AMI JHARAT BIGSAT KANWAL Osho Hindi Discourse Podcast Part-9
DATES AND PLACES : JAN 21-30 1979
Ninth Discourse from the series of 14 discourses – AMI JHARAT BIGSAT KANWAL by Osho. These discourses were given during MAR 11 -24 1979.
AMI JHARAT BIGSAT KANWAL
Only he who bears the pain in his heart can understand the suffering of others. What does one know of another’s pain if it has not sprung in their own heart? The barren woman knows not the pangs of childbirth; how can she discern the flaws? A faithful wife knows the vow to her husband; what can an adulteress proclaim in meeting? Only a jeweler can appreciate the value of a diamond; what can a fool discern by looking? He who suffers the wound feels the pain; others cannot comprehend that agony. The name of Ram is the support of my life; he alone savors the nectar of that name. Only a true lover knows the depth of love; it pierces the heart like a spear. If you are the weaver, then I am also yours, O Ram. I am lowly, vile, of low caste and witless, but you are the crown of my head. The body is the loom, the mind holds the spool, and the subtle thread is strung. Seated in the celestial realms, the weaver works, taught by my true Guru. Sins are the water, and evil thoughts the thorns, falling away naturally. No knots or tangles can remain; one becomes dyed in a single color. Dyed in the color of Hari, filled with His robe, Hari asks, ‘What can I give you?’ I am not greedy for the labor; forgive me, and grant me your devotional service. By grace, Hari speaks His words, ‘You are my servant.’ The river says, ‘Within my soul, blend the faith and devotion of Ram.’ You are the embodiment of beauty, and I am the connoisseur of that beauty, Lift the veil, grant me a vision! Come dwell in my mind, Make my humble abode shine brightly!
For ages, I’ve wandered with thirst in my heart, Through this world and that, finding no respite, Cursed in every life! Transient beauty glimpsed here and there, In every world, in every life, The flames of desire kept burning, In every life, every moment in the heart. Now I’ve come to your door, O beautiful one, open the portal, grant me a vision! You are the embodiment of beauty, and I am the connoisseur of that beauty, Lift the veil, grant me a vision! Come dwell in my mind, Make my humble abode shine brightly!
May our union be like that of the bee and the flower, A tumult of nectar-filled pain, Let our marriage be the fulfillment of desire, A sweet union of life with life! My heart has heard your call, Drenched in nectar, intoxicating, tender awakening, Like the call of the flute, Stirring the maidens of Vrindavan! Joyful yet fearful, my anxious heart, O beautiful one, open the portal, grant me a vision! You are the embodiment of beauty, and I am the connoisseur of that beauty, Lift the veil, grant me a vision! Come dwell in my mind, Make my humble abode shine brightly!
Centuries of accumulated hopes, Beloved, sacred desires, Beautiful hopes of eternal happiness, Desires for eternal peace and liberation! Taking the treasures of body, mind, and life, Soft memories from the beginning of time, Take all that can be given, Take all that is mine, I’ve come to your door with offerings, O beautiful one, open the portal, grant me a vision! You are the embodiment of beauty, and I am the connoisseur of that beauty, Lift the veil, grant me a vision! Come dwell in my mind, Make my humble abode shine brightly!
The heart of a devotee is a prayer, a longing—a knock on the door of the Supreme. The devotee’s life breath has but one desire—that the hidden be revealed, that the veil be lifted, that the supreme lover or beloved be found! Nothing less will satisfy. Nothing else is desired. All desires have been tried and found wanting. Desires have led nowhere.
Only after lifetimes of chasing mirages does one become a devotee. Devotion is the blooming flower after endless journeys of life. Devotion is the ultimate expression of consciousness. Devotion is available only to the fortunate. Otherwise, we fall into the same cycles again and again, like an ox at the mill. The most unbelievable thing in human life is that we learn nothing from experience. We repeat the same mistakes—old, old mistakes, day after day, life after life. Devotion arises when we take some essence from life, some extract. What is the essence of life?—that no matter what you achieve, you have attained nothing. No matter how much you accumulate, you remain as impoverished within as ever. Wealth does not make you wealthy—until you meet that supreme wealthy one, that master. Wealth only makes you feel more impoverished within. The contrast with inner poverty becomes even more glaring. Honor, respect, position, prestige, they are all deceptions, self-delusions. No matter how much you cover your wounds, no matter if you place roses upon them, the wounds do not disappear. They may be forgotten for a moment, but they do not heal. Others may be deceived, but how can you deceive yourself? You know, you always know, that there is a wound within, covered by a rose. It is possible to deceive the whole world, but not oneself. The day this realization deepens and manifests, a devotee is born. And the devotee’s journey begins with separation. Because within the devotee rises a constant thirst—how to meet the Supreme? Where to search for Him? There is no address, no location. Whom to ask? There are thousands ready to answer, but their eyes hold no answers. And there are thousands who write scriptures, but their souls lack fragrance. Thousands pray in temples, mosques, gurdwaras, but their prayers lack the wetness of tears. Their prayers lack the color of the heart—they are dry, desolate, like a desert. And can prayer ever be a desert? Prayer is a garden; it blooms with many flowers, emits much fragrance. Yes, people have arranged the outer rituals, but the inner lamp is extinguished. And while the arrangements for incense and lamps are made outside, inside everything is void, empty. This pain troubles the devotee. The devotee cannot distract his mind with this false devotion. These toys are no longer of any use. Now the real is needed. No fake thing can appeal or delude anymore, so the intense fire of separation begins to burn. Thirst arises, and all around are false fountains of water. And the more one recognizes these false fountains, the deeper the thirst becomes. A time comes when the devotee remains only a burning thirst. In relation to this thirst, these beloved words were spoken by Dariya. ‘Only he who bears the pain in his heart can understand the suffering of others. Such is the pain of separation. It is a unique pain! It is not ordinary suffering
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