Fatalism

Osho, if life is a storyline in which each person’s role is fixed and one only has to enact it as ordained, isn’t that fatalism?

The word has been spoiled; with too much use it’s become debased. Otherwise “destiny” is a very lovely word. Destiny means things happen; they are not “done.” Destiny means the plot is decided—don’t worry needlessly. Destiny means what has to happen will happen; what had to happen has happened; what has to be will go on happening. Don’t carry the burden on your head. You are not responsible. Think of it like this: a Ramleela is being performed; the leela, the play, is on. Rama knows perfectly well that Sita will be abducted. There’s no need to stay awake nights, worrying. It’s all fixed. It’s a script. Sita will be abducted, Rama will wander from forest to forest, asking every tree, “Where is my Sita?” And he will ask with great feeling. Then the curtain will fall, and backstage they’ll laugh and chat. Ravana will be sitting there too. They’ll…

Osho, is life really just a play? The idea both clicks and does not. Why?

You will be surprised—at first there will be trouble, certainly. Because all your relationships till now have been with your roles. When you drop the roles, relationships will get disturbed. Your near and dear ones will be upset, because the bonds were made with your masks. You told a woman, “Apart from you, no one is beautiful to me—you alone are my Noor Jahan, my Mumtaz, my everything.” If you drop the play, that too will go—and with it, trouble will begin. Because she built the relationship on that basis. When truth comes, all the houses of cards you built upon falsity will fall in a single gust. You will no longer be able to say such things, because you know you also see beauty in other women. You didn’t say it; you hid it. It’s not that you didn’t see. Anyone who sees beauty in one woman will see…

Osho, who am I, where have I come from, and what is my destiny?

He went with Farid. They undressed and entered the river. As soon as the man ducked under, Farid climbed atop him and held him down, pressing his neck so he couldn’t come up. The man began to thrash, like a fish flung onto burning sand—hands and feet flailing. But Farid was strong; still, when it’s life and death, hidden strength surges. The man, though thin and scholarly as inquirers often are, gathered all his might and with one wrench threw Farid aside and burst to the surface. Farid asked, “Did you understand something?” The man said, “Understand? You were about to kill me! Is this how one realizes God? Are you a man or a murderer? I had heard you were an accomplished fakir—but you seem mad. You were choking me!” Farid said, “We’ll talk about that later. First, before you forget—human memory is very weak—tell me: while I held…

If we are all actors in a play that is already written, how can meditation transform us without the play itself containing a chapter for our transformation at a specific time? And if such a chapter is there already waiting to unfold at its due time, why meditate? Why make any effort at all?

Mohammed, Jesus and Moses, they were talking to one type of mind, and Buddha, Mahavir, Krishna, they were talking to a very different type of mind. There are really two source religions -- the Hindu and the Jewish. So all the religions born out of India, all the religions born out of Hinduism believe in rebirth, in many births; and all the religions born out of Jewish thinking -- Mohammedanism, Christianity -- they believe in one life. These are two devices. Try to understand it. Because our minds are fixed, we take things as theories, not as devices. So many times people come to me and say, "One day you said this is right, and another day you said that is right, and both cannot be right." Of course both cannot be right, but no one is saying that both are right. I am not concerned at all with which…