Smile

Beloved Osho, before you start talking, you smile. When you start talking, your smile disappears and you don't smile again until you've finished. Can you tell us about that?

It is relevant, because to speak is such a torture and such a useless activity. It has to be done because there is no other way to bring you towards the silence that exists in me. You won't listen to it; you can listen only to words. So I am smiling when I start talking, but while I am talking it is difficult to smile. It is such a torture and such a futile effort to say something which cannot be said, to talk about something which cannot be talked about, to go on continuously pointing with the fingers to the moon which cannot be fingered. But there is no other way, so I have to continue it. By and by, you will become able to listen to the nonverbal, to the wordless. By and by, you will become able to listen when I am not talking -- then there…

Osho, Krishnamurti keeps telling his listeners, “Listen seriously; it is a serious matter!” But you do not say this to your sannyasins: “Listen seriously; it is a serious matter!”

What does “listen” mean? It means: don’t keep inserting your opinion in between; put yourself aside a little. Listen straight. Listening does not mean “agree with me.” Listening only means: keep deciding for or against for later; for now, just listen—listen exactly to what is being said. You hear only what you want to hear. You hear only what suits you. You hear only up to the point that serves your purpose. You cut and prune as you listen. You allow in only as much as will not be capable of changing you. You allow in only as much as will strengthen your oldness—make you more entrenched, harden and empower your ego. You will go away a little more knowledgeable. I don’t say this to you. I don’t say it precisely because, after forty years of saying it, whom has Krishnamurti managed to make listen! I simply say what I…

Once in a while, my mind looks at your close disciples, like the tall english guy with the sad face. One hears his sad voice as he reads the sutra. The guy never smiles, never lets go. Do people become very serious if they are so near you?

I am not serious, and a certain balance is needed. Teertha balances me. He has to be serious on purpose. When the Master is not serious, disciples have to be serious. You can ask Narendra, one of our sannyasins. His father is a beautiful man -- a little crazy. For thirty, forty years he has been crazy. Small children will watch him -- his own children will watch him -- because he can steal. He can take things from the money box and disappear. Hmm? the father. So small kids, they will just sit there in the shop and watch. When the father can steal, then the children have to watch. Otherwise ordinarily it happens the other way: the father watches, and the kids steal. This is how it is happening here. The Master is nonserious: the kids have to be serious. It certainly balances. Teertha is not serious; he…

Osho, what question could I ask, and what answer could you give! You are the question and the answer too. In love, should there be a question, or an answer, or silence?

Life’s ultimate peaks are peaks of paradox. Words are noise, a spectacle; in the ocean of feeling they are sugar-candy that melts. Do not speak the heart’s secret with your lips; silence alone is the language of feeling. Weep—your tears will speak. Dance—your gestures will tell. Hum. Yesterday evening it so happened. Vani, a sannyasin, has come from Germany. I asked her, “Is there something you want to say?” And I felt she had so much to say; her heart was full. She had come from so far, and could stay only for a day or two. She cannot remain long. Every two or three months she rushes here. Even if time allows only two or three days, sometimes only a single day—she comes from Germany to Poona even for a single day! Once she stayed only five hours. So she comes to say something, to make some offering. I…