I was reading a beautiful anecdote:
An elderly Irishman checked out of a hotel room and was half way to the bus depot when he realized he had left his umbrella behind. By the time he got back to the room, a newlywed couple had already checked in. Hating to interrupt anything, the Irishman got down on his knees and listened in at the keyhole.
“Whose lovely eyes are those, my darling?” he heard the man’s voice ask.
“Yours, my love,” the woman answered.
“And whose precious nose is this?” the man went on inside the room.
“Only yours,” the woman replied.
“And whose beautiful lips are these?” the man continued.
“Yours!” panted the woman.
“And whose…?” but the Irishman could not stand it anymore.
Putting his mouth to the keyhole, he shouted, “When you get to a yellow plaid umbrella, folks, it is mine!”
This game of ‘my’ and ‘mine’ is the most absurd game — but this is the whole game of life. This earth was there before you ever came here, and this will be here when you are gone.
The diamonds that you possess were there before you ever came here, and when you are gone those diamonds will remain here — and they will not even remember you. They are completely oblivious that you possess them.
This game of possessiveness is the most foolish game there is — but this is the whole game.
Gurdjieff used to say that if you start getting dis-identified from things, sooner or later you will fall upon your essential being. That is the basic meaning of RENUNCIATION.
Renunciation does not mean — sannyas does not mean — renouncing the world and escaping to the Himalayas or to a monastery — because if you escape from the world and go to a monastery, nothing is going to change. You carry the same mind. here in the world, the house was yours, and the wife was yours; there the monastery will be yours, the religion will be yours. It will not make much difference. The ‘mine’ will persist. It is a mind attitude — it has nothing to do with any outside space. It is an inner illusion, an inner dream, an inner sleep.
Renunciation means: wherever you are, there is no need to renounce the things because in the first place you never possessed them. It is foolish to talk about renunciation. It means as if you were the possessor and now you are renouncing. How can you renounce something which you never possessed? Renunciation means coming to know that you cannot possess anything. You can use, at the most, but you cannot possess. You are not going to be here forever — how can you possess? It is impossible to possess anything.
You can use and you can be grateful to things that they allow themselves to be used. They become means, but you cannot possess them.
Dropping the idea of ownership is renunciation. Renunciation is not dropping the possessions but possessiveness. And this is what Gurdjieff calls ‘getting un-identified’. This is what Bauls call realizing ‘Adhar Manush’ — the essential man. This is what Zen people call the original face.
THERE IS a very famous Taoist story — I love it tremendously. The story is about an old Taoist farmer whose horse ran away:
That evening the neighbors gathered to commiserate with him since this was such bad luck. He said, “Maybe.”
The next day the horse returned, but brought with it six wild horses, and the neighbors came exclaiming at the good fortune. He said, “Maybe.”
And then the following day, his son tried to saddle and ride one of the wild horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. Again the neighbors came to offer their sympathy for the misfortune. He said, “Maybe.”
The day after that, conscription officers came to the village to seize young men for the army, but because of the broken leg the farmer’s son was rejected. When the neighbors came in to say how fortunate everything had turned out, he said, “Maybe.”
This is the attitude of a man who understands what is accidental and what is essential.
The accidental is always ‘maybe’; it is a ‘perhaps’. You cannot be certain about it, you need not be certain about it. People who become certain about the accidental are going to be frustrated sooner or later; their certainty is going to create much frustration for them.
Their certainty will create expectations, and they cannot be fulfilled — because the universe is not there to fulfill your expectations. It has its own destiny. It is moving towards its own goal. It does not care about your private goals.
All private goals are against the goal of the universe itself. All private goals are against the goal of the Whole. All private goals are neurotic. The essential man comes to know, to feel, that ‘I am not separate from the Whole and there is no need to seek and search for any destiny on my own. Things are happening, the world is moving — call it God — He is doing things. They are happening of their own accord. There is no need for me to make any struggle, any effort; there is no need for me to fight for anything. I can RELAX and BE.’
{I was reminded of Mr. Amitabh Bachchan when he spoke about his illustrious father Shri. Harivansh Rai Bachchan in an interview at the NASSCOM event. (182) Mann ka ho to acha h..Na ho to aur acha h – YouTube}
The essential man is not a doer. The accidental man is a doer. The accidental man is, of course, then in anxiety, tension, stress, anguish, continuously sitting on a volcano — it can erupt any moment, because he lives in a world of uncertainty and believes as if it is certain. This creates tension in his being: he knows deep down that nothing is certain. A rich man has everything that he can have, and yet he knows deep down that he has nothing. That’s what makes a rich man even poorer than a poor man.
In the older ages, people were truer, more authentic. Buddha was a prince, he was going to be the emperor, but he realized that there is nothing in it. He could have pretended. Mahavir was a prince; he was going to be the emperor. He realized that there is nothing in it. They simply declared their realization to the world. They simply said that riches have failed, that kingdoms are not kingdoms; that if you are really seeking the kingdom, you will have to seek somewhere else, in some other direction.
In this world there is no way to arrive.
This world is accidental. It is illusory — just ripples on the surface, waves. And whatsoever you are doing is nothing but making card houses, or trying to sail paper boats: they are doomed to drown. This realization makes a man for the first time a little alert about his sleepiness, and then he starts moving more and more towards consciousness.
When things are no longer important, only consciousness becomes important. When things are no longer significant, a new search, a new door opens. Then you are not rushing towards the without: you start slipping into the within. The kingdom of God is within. And once you drop identifying with things, suddenly you are no longer fighting — there is no point. You start moving with the river of existence. Arrival at home is effortless.
Osho: A Sudden Clash of Thunder Chapter #3 Chapter title: Why Should I Grieve Over Him? (Excerpts)
क्या दूँ? क्या दिलाऊं? क्या है मेरा?
सिर काट कर दे दूँ, पर वो भी है तेरा।
Kya dun, kya dilaun, kya hai mera?
sar kaat kar dedun, par wo bhi hai tera.
What can I give? what can I get? what is mine?
If I give you my entire self, even that is yours.
Enjoy this hilarious song from the film “Manchali” (1973) written by Anand Bakshi, composed by Laxmikant Pyarelal and sung by the veteran singer Mukesh. Brilliantly acted with amazing comedy timing by the evergreen actor Sanjeev Kumar and charming Leena Chandavarkar, almost conveying similar message….hahaha.
(143) Tan Man Dhan Sab Hai Tera – Mukesh – Leena Chandavarkar, Sanjeev Kumar – YouTube
Excellent
Dis-identifed… Renunciation…and consciousness…and linking these along with Sanjeev Kumar….🙂