---
section: Library
booktitle: "The Great Secret"
booktype: "Hindi"
bookcode: "GREATS"
dategiven: "20 January 1975 am"
place: " in Buddha Hall"
chapternum: "Chapter #10"
chaptertitle: "Come what may, allow"
acode: "7501200"
shorttitle: "GREATS10"
audio: "No"
video: "No"
esttime: "0mins"
displaytitle: "The Great Secret: Chapter #10"
---

```style
.sutra {
  font-style: italic;
  white-space: pre-wrap !important;
}
```
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<p class="sutra">STOP WAVERING, MAD MIND!
 COME WHAT MAY, ALLOW IT!
 THE SATI IS READY FOR THE FIRE OF DEATH.</p>
<p class="sutra">DANCE IN ECSTASY, BEYOND ALL DOUBTS.
 DROP GREED, ATTACHMENT, FANCIES.
 DO THE BRAVE FEAR DEATH?
 DOES THE SATI CLING TO HER BODY?</p>
<p class="sutra">SOCIETY, SCRIPTURE, FAMILY PRESTIGE --
 THE HANGMAN'S NOOSE AT THE NECK.
 MOVE ON THE PATH AND RETURN MIDWAY --
 HA! HA! EVERYONE LAUGHS.</p>
<p class="sutra">THIS WHOLE WORLD'S SO NASTY.
 ONLY HE WHO PRAYS IS TRUE.
 SAYS KABIR: NEVER ABANDON THE NAME.
 FALL DOWN! STAND UP! FLY HIGH!</p>


Certain things must be understood before we try to grasp what Kabir is saying. First, the mind is never sick nor is it ever healthy: the mind itself IS sickness. It is never quiet and so it is meaningless to say that it is restless: restlessness is the mind. The mind can never become mad because only one who is not mad can become a lunatic: the mind itself is madness.


The mind will always remain unsteady, because unsteadiness is its nature. If a wave does not move, it will cease to be a wave. It is called a wave because it is moving, because it remains in motion. What would a silent wave be? The existence of the wave is in its motion, in its restlessness.


Never hope for your mind to be quiet; it does not know how to be at peace. As long as the mind is there, there is certain to be restlessness. When the mind is no more, what remains is peace. The absence of mind is peace -- to be in no-mind is peace.


The mind will always be shaky, will always remain indecisive. If you wait for a decision by the mind -- if you think, "I shall do this when the mind decides" -- you will never be able to do anything. To remain in indecision is the way of the mind. It will always remain divided, broken into parts. Some parts will be for something and other parts will be against it. Within the mind there is always a civil war, there is always an internal conflict, there is always a duel going on.


What is this duality? It is important to understand its roots.


In you there are three things, three factors. One is your body. Your body is a fact; it has a material existence. And then there is the flow of consciousness within you. That is your atma, your soul. That is also a fact. Between these two is the mind. The mind is not a fact; it is a false thing.


It is a little bit body and a little bit soul -- it is a situation created between the two. It cannot be total, it is always divided, always with one side or the other. And so it remains partly with the body and partly with the soul. It is created by the union of these two, and so it can never be totally with the body.


The desire to be a saint, to be a holy person, is hidden in everyone; it is even hidden in the mind of the greatest sinner. Whenever you are going to do something terrible -- even though you may have been doing it for lives -- the mind will caution you not to. It will say, "Don't do this. It is bad." If the mind were only body, then nothing would be bad. At the body's level nothing is good or bad; neither holy act nor sin can exist. In the case of the enlightened man both disappear, and for the ignorant man neither exists. For the ignorant man, there is no possibility of the existence of good or bad, and the enlightened man has reached a place where both of these are left far behind.


When you are at prayer or at worship the mind will ask, "Why are you wasting your time?" When you are going to steal something, when you are going to commit a theft, the mind will ask, "Why are you committing a sin?" When you are preparing to give something away in charity the mind will ask, "Why are you throwing your money away unnecessarily?" Then you are in a great fix trying to figure out what the mind wants.


The mind is like a bridge joining the two banks -- the bank of the body and the bank of the soul. Half of the mind is on either side, and so there will always be a problem. If you follow the mind you will always be unsteady. Whatsoever you do, bad or good, the mind will repent it. Then you will fall into great difficulty and confusion; then you will be at a loss to know what to do.


When you are in good spirits you lean to one side, and when those good spirits have left you, you lean to the other. In between the two you are torn to pieces, just as a rock is reduced to dust between the stones of a gristmill.


Kabir has said:
<p class="sutra">BETWEEN TWO MILLSTONES
 NONE REMAIN UNBROKEN.</p>


These two stones are within you, and you are that gristmill.


Kabir says:
<p class="sutra">SEEING THE WHEEL TURNING,
 KABIR BROKE INTO TEARS.</p>


If you become a little alert you will be able to see this gristmill working within you; you will be able to see yourself going round and round. The mind joins the two millstones.


Because of the mind you think, "I am the body," and because of the mind you also think, "I am the soul." When the mind disappears, these mistaken notions that you are the body and that you are the soul disappear. They evaporate because the person who made these claims is no more. Only you, the soul, remains. Only your original nature remains; the claimant is gone. What will there be to say then? To whom will the soul speak when the body is not? That which is opposite to the body we call the soul. That is where the highest delight arises.


So the first thing to be understood is that the mind can never be whole, can never be total. The mind will always remain divided. And if you decide you need the mind's approval before doing something you will never be able to do anything. You will never commit a sinful act or a holy deed, a religious act or an irreligious one, an act of sansara or an act of sannyas. You will not be able to do anything at all. The mind will always remain indecisive, perplexed.


During the second world war a very famous philosopher was recruited for military service because there was a shortage of soldiers. Enlistment was compulsory, and so he was recruited against his will. He was a great philosopher. He had spent his life thinking and thinking, he had never put anything into practice, he had simply thought and thought.


This world of thoughts is quite a different world, it is quite distinct. Philosophy is a kind of exercise that pleases the mind greatly, because you never do anything so there is never any question of repentance. If you simply think of sin, no harm is done because no one is hurt, and if you think about some act of merit there is no problem either, because no one is benefited. You simply sit and think. Something only happens when there is action involved; nothing happens just by thinking. Philosophers think a lot. They waste their lives thinking, and do absolutely nothing. You will not find them among the sinners, or among good people either. They just stand on the side of the road. They do not walk, they think. And they make no decisions.


This particular recruit was a very famous philosopher. The general under whose command he had been put also knew of him -- he had read the philosopher's books. The general thought, "What can this man do? Before he has to shoot he will think about it a thousand times. And the enemy won't wait for him."


His training began. The first time the order "Left turn" was given everyone turned accordingly, but the philosopher stood where he was. He was asked, "What are you doing?" He answered, "I can't do anything without thinking it over first. When I hear 'Left turn' I ask myself, 'Why? What is the reason? What harm is there if I don't turn left? What is the advantage if I do?'"


If all soldiers were to ask such questions you can imagine what would happen, but because he was a very famous philosopher and because he could see no other way out, the general decided to give him a very small and unimportant job. He sent him to work in the kitchen.


On the very first day the philosopher was given a dish of peas and told to separate them, to put the big peas on one side and the small peas on the other. After an hour the general went to check on his work. He found the philosopher sitting in front of the dish with his eyes closed. The peas were untouched. He was thinking. The general asked, "What are you doing?"     "A great problem has arisen," he said. "If I put the big peas on one side and the small ones on the other, then where shall I put the medium-sized ones? It is not right to start anything until the whole thing has been settled."


The mind is a great philosopher -- it is unable to decide anything. Philosophers have never been able to decide anything.


Look at it in this way -- knowledge that is associated with the body is science, knowledge that is associated with the mind is philosophy, and knowledge that is associated with consciousness is religion. Science has certainly accomplished some very substantial things; it has been able to do much in fact. Religion has also done a lot. Philosophy has not been able to do anything because philosophy is associated with the mind. Philosophers simply go on thinking, they simply go on finding arguments for and against. And there is no end to it. The chain is endless. That is why, even after thousands of years of thinking, philosophy has not yet reached a decision. Not one single decision has been made. There have been questions, thousands and thousands of questions, but not one single solution.


Do not bother about pleasing the mind -- you will be wasting your life. Just set the mind aside. If you can do that, then your life will be meaningful. If you understand the mind correctly you will see that it is only a process, only a series of thoughts. No action is born out of the mind, it just thinks a lot. At times you mistakenly believe the mind has arrived at a particular decision. You go to a temple, for example, and you vow never to tell a lie from that moment on. And hiding in its dark corner the mind laughs at your vow, at your decision, because it is a decision made by half a mind, by a partial mind, and you have not consulted the other half. Then you go to the market or sit in your shop and begin your business. You enter the world of business and then that hidden part of your mind will induce you to lie.


Your vow is a challenge to the mind. You did not consult it before you made your resolution and your mind will not be still until it breaks it. You have taken many vows, and many times you have broken them. The only reason you keep doing this is that you take your vow after listening to the mind. The real vow is born when you give up the mind.


There are two kinds of vows. One is the kind you take following the dictates of the mind. You hear a sadhu or a saint and you like what he has to say. But who likes it? It is liked by the mind. The half of the mind near the soul is delighted to hear such talk, is enchanted by these words; it will become enraptured by them and will take a vow. This vow is taken, but you have not yet consulted the other half of the mind. Now the other half will take revenge. It will never pardon you, it will immediately start some game to make you break your vow.


Even in small matters, challenges play a great part in life. When a person decides not to smoke, for example, this becomes a challenge to the mind. If today you decide to fast, then the half portion of the mind that belongs to the body will decide to break your vow. For the whole day it will make you think of food, it will make you dream about food. It will try to entice you in a thousand and one ways. And the opposite of this is also true. If you follow the dictates of the body, then the other half of the mind will create trouble for you.


The man who follows the mind is like a traveler who is trying to sail in two boats, and each boat is going in a different direction. Such a person will always be in a quandary -- he will always remain suspended in the middle. He will have no place to stand; he will be neither of the earth nor of the sky.


There is another type of vow which I call MAHAVRATA, the great vow. This is not taken by the mind. This vow is taken after the full realization that the mind is afflicted by duality, that the mind is duality, that the mind is conflict. In taking such a vow the mind is set aside. It is not that the mind makes a vow it will not speak the truth. When you have realized what the mind is, the feeling that arises in your consciousness is not this sort of vow. The feeling comes because you have realized what falsehood is and what the mind is, and now your understanding, your realization itself becomes the greatest vow.


The man who has understood what smoking is does not have to throw his cigarette away; the cigarette falls from his hand by itself. And the man who has realized what wine is watches the bottle slipping from his hand. When you quit something it is the mind that is giving it up; if it goes away by itself it is mahavrata, the great vow. But if it is you that is putting something aside, you will surely pick it up again.


Mulla Nasruddin once went to address a meeting. It generally happens that speakers say one thing but act differently. You may be surprised at this, but it is what usually happens. It is not their fault, and you are mistaken if you think they are deceiving you on purpose. On such an occasion it is that part of the mind nearer the soul that begins to function.


Addressing a gathering, who will speak out in favor of sin? It is only talk, no doing is involved, so one can speak of high ideals and of great deeds. It is only discussion. Nothing is at stake, there is nothing to lose. So at the time he is speaking, a speaker will talk about nonavarice and not about greed, about nonviolence and not about violence, about truth and not about falsehood. When he is speaking, the speaker becomes a pious man, a sadhu -- when he is speaking.


The Mulla also spoke about great and wise things -- about truth, nonviolence, about honesty. The audience was surprised. And the Mulla's son, who was also there, was surprised as well. The Mulla explained that anyone could achieve liberation by climbing the steps of truth -- by being honest, by practicing nonviolence, celibacy and nonpossessiveness. "This ladder is right in front of you," he said. "You just have to begin to climb." I was present the next morning when the Mulla's son said to him, "I had a dream last night, and I saw the ladder you spoke about yesterday."


Seeing that his talk had greatly impressed his son, the Mulla was eager to hear more. "Go on," he said. "What happened next?"


His son replied, "The ladder rose high towards heaven -- its top was lost, far away in the sky. At the base of the ladder there was a noticeboard with sticks of chalk, one foot long, kept near it. The instructions on the board said that whoever climbed the ladder was to take a stick of chalk with him and make a mark on each step for each one of his sins."


The Mulla was becoming more and more excited. He said, "Go on. What next?"


The son continued, "I took a stick of chalk, made my first mark, and began to climb. After climbing a little I heard the sounds of someone climbing down."


The Mulla asked, "Who was it?"


The son said, "I wondered that too, so I raised my eyes and saw that it was you climbing down."


The Mulla said, "Me? Climbing down? What are you talking about? Why should I climb down?"


The boy said, "I asked you the same question and you replied, 'I am going back down to get more chalk.'"


Actions are full of sins, while talk is only about great deeds. You keep on sinning and at the same time go on taking vows that you will perform acts of great merit. And so both parts of the mind are satisfied. The part of the mind near the body is satisfied with sin and the other is satisfied with the scriptures. You sail in both boats and seem very pleased with yourself. But you never reach anywhere, you cannot. No one has ever reached anywhere this way. Even if you choose one boat the difficulty remains the same -- both boats belong to the mind.


Kabir says that those who sit in a boat, in either boat, drown. The voyage across the ocean of life is such that those who accept the help of a boat are the ones who sink. One has to swim oneself -- there is no need for any boat at all. Both the boats are of the mind; their names are sin and holiness.


And so you remain divided, in duality. I see that the man sitting in the shop is divided; I see that the man sitting in the ashram is divided as well. The man in the shop thinks about holy acts because he is committing sins, and the man in the ashram performs holy acts and thinks of sinful things. There is no difference in their perplexity; both are in difficulty. So you have to give up the mind completely. The mind is madness. And to give it up means to understand it. When you understand the nature of the mind it will be easy to let it go.


Now let us try to understand these words of Kabir:
<p class="sutra">STOP WAVERING, MAD MIND!</p>


The mind is mad. This is not poetry; what Kabir has to say are direct truths of life. Madness is another name for the mind. There is no need for anybody to explain this to you; you are very well acquainted with your mind. If you have even the slightest ability to see through it, to see through the workings of your mind, you will realize that it is mad.


The mind is always asking you to do something over again, something you have already done so many times before. And every time you see that by doing it nothing is achieved. What else can madness be?


Many times you have tried to extract oil from sand, but it does not work. You know that sand is sand, that oil cannot be extracted from it, and yet you do the same thing over and over again. If this is not madness, what is?


You have indulged in the pleasures of the flesh countless times, innumerable times, and yet you have achieved nothing. You still do not know what real joy is, you still do not know what ecstasy is. You simply remain thirsty and miserable, weeping and repenting what you have done. And in spite of this experience, the mind induces you to repeat things over and over again. If this is not madness, then what else is it?


To be mad is to keep repeating something that has already been seen as useless, as worthless. To be mad is not to do something even though there may be a little substance in it, not to go near something that has a glimpse of some substance in it.


People come to me and they say, "We practiced meditation for a few days and then gave it up." I ask them how they found those few days. They say, "We experienced great joy and peace." This seems very surprising, giving up meditation in spite of the fact they experienced peace while doing it. They say, "It was the mind that made us stop."


Do you give up those things that make you unhappy and miserable? You have been angry many times. Have you ever experienced any joy from your anger? Has it brought you joy even once? Whenever you have been angry you have experienced unhappiness -- but the mind does not give anger up. Whenever you meditate or pray, or go to a temple and sit in silence, you feel happy -- yet your mind asks you to give it up. And you take its advice!


You do things from which nothing but misery results because the mind says, "Make another attempt. This time you might succeed. It may have borne no fruit up to now but you might get some in the future, so keep on. Who can definitely say you won't get it just because you haven't obtained it up to now? So keep on seeking. Keep on making an effort."


And so your mind pushes you on a fruitless journey. What else can madness be?


Some time just sit quietly and examine your mind. See what is going on there. Will you be able to differentiate between your mind and that of a madman? The mind is a mad thing. There are simply differences of degree. Some minds may be eighty percent mad, some may be ninety percent mad and others may be ninety-nine -- just ready to boil. Some people are one hundred percent mad and others have gone beyond one hundred. These people are kept in lunatic asylums.


A priest once went to an asylum to give a talk. He spoke on his subject in great detail, but he used simple terms because he was speaking to madmen. He explained things from all points of view.


One of the inmates kept staring at the priest and was obviously listening to him with rapt attention. The priest was very impressed; no one had ever listened to him so intently. The man was so engrossed it appeared as if he were not even taking a breath. When the meeting was over the priest noticed the man going to the superintendent and whispering something in his ear. He thought the man must have said something about his talk, so as soon as he had a chance he asked the superintendent what the man had said to him. "Was he speaking about my talk?" the priest inquired.


After a little hesitation the superintendent replied, "Yes, it was about your talk."


The priest became quite uneasy. "What did he say?" he asked. At first the superintendent was unwilling to answer, but the priest pressed him and so he said, "He came to me and began to whisper in my ear, 'See what the world is like! This man is outside, while we are shut up in here. A great injustice is being done!'"


There is not much difference between those who are out and those who are in. There is only a wall between them. You can be sent in at any time; you are standing very near the wall and the door is always open. For the people on the inside the door is closed, but for those who go in from the outside it is open. The guard at the door is not there to stop people coming in from outside, he is there to stop those who are inside from going out. A welcome awaits you there, and sooner or later you will go inside. It is a wonder you have not already done so. You know this very well too, and so you exercise great control, hiding yourself, not exposing yourself. Sometimes in a weak and unconscious moment you are exposed, and then you know that you too have been acting like a madman.


Sometimes your anger exposes you, and after a while you beg forgiveness. You say, "I was mad then. How could I have done such a thing?" But it happened! You say you are incapable of doing such a thing, so how did it happen? You did it. The anger was yours. No other spirit entered you; no ghost or spirit compelled you to do it.


What is the difference between you when you are angry and you when you are not? There is only this much difference -- in an unconscious moment of anger whatsoever is going on within you comes out. Ordinarily you are careful about your behavior; ordinarily you keep yourself in control. When you are thinking about whether to do something or not, hundreds of thoughts are going on within you -- and you only bring one of those hundreds of thoughts to the surface. No one is ever free from madness until he becomes free from the clutches of the mind.


The beauty of it all is that the mind disappears as soon as your hesitation, your doubts and your restlessness go. As long as the mind is still there hesitation will not go, but when hesitation goes, the mind also goes. The wave goes to sleep; it is lost in the ocean.


Kabir says you are linked to the world as long as the mind is still there, but that when the mind becomes quiet it ceases to exist. Then only the abode of the everlasting exists. This is the key to being linked to God.
<p class="sutra">STOP WAVERING, MAD MIND!
 COME WHAT MAY, ALLOW IT!
 THE SATI IS READY FOR THE FIRE OF DEATH.</p>


The symbol used here is worth understanding. Before the British came to India there was a custom whereby the widow, the SATI, would willingly burn herself on the funeral pyre along with her dead husband. Later, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, there was compulsion involved and so it was finally banned by the government. But there was a time when there was no compulsion. Such women were called satis.


When the custom of sati started it was born out of great love, out of very deep relationships. Such a thing has not happened anywhere else in the world. It happened only in India, because only India has known the highest peaks of love. India has known the feeling of oneness, the feeling of unity between lovers. Based on the heights of this unity, the custom of sati was born.


If love has become so deep that it becomes another word for life, then there is no other choice but for the beloved to join her lover in death. When the husband dies, the wife's life also ends -- if there is deep love between them. Then there is no meaning in continuing to live. Mornings will come but now there will be no beauty in them. Nights will continue to come and the stars will go on shining, but from now on there will be no stars for that poor widow. Now everything is dark for her; now her light has gone. When the lamp of love is extinguished there is no more meaning in life. The wife would climb the pyre willingly, carrying a pot of vermilion in her hand.
<p class="sutra">THE SATI IS READY FOR THE FIRE OF DEATH.</p>


The pyre would be lit and the flames would be rising, and the wife would go to become a sati. Vermilion is a symbol of good luck. It was used because the pyre ceased to be a pyre for the wife whose husband had passed away; the pyre became her good fortune.


Now the sati is not going to meet death, she is going to meet her husband. Her lover is standing on the other side of the flames, the pyre is the door to heaven. This is not death, for her this is the door to life. And so the sati, with the vermilion, with the symbol of good luck in her hand, climbs the pyre.
<p class="sutra">COME WHAT MAY, ALLOW IT!
 THE SATI IS READY FOR THE FIRE OF DEATH.</p>


Kabir says that whatever happens he is ready, because now there is no question of going back. He is standing there like a sati with a pot of vermilion in his hand -- if he has to pass through the flames he is ready. If God is standing on the other side, Kabir is willing to pass through death; Kabir is prepared to meet death.
<p class="sutra">COME WHAT MAY, ALLOW IT!</p>


He asks his mind to drop all hesitation, all indecision. He says he is going away now; he says this is the last moment. He is willing to pass through death because he is determined to know what life is. And so he tells his mind to set aside all its mad talk, "Now it is more than enough," he says. "I have listened to you long enough."


Kabir does not try to quieten the mind, he simply tells the mind it is worrying unnecessarily. He has already begun his walk; he has the pot of vermilion in his hand and his next step will be onto the pyre itself. He is ready to die; his beloved is calling from the other side, "What are you hesitating for, you fool?" But no reply comes from the mind. "Now I am absolutely ready," he says. "Now I am not going to listen to you anymore." When this moment comes, the mind gives up. Not before that.


As long as there is the slightest hope the mind will try to seduce you, to trap you. It will try various tricks; it will try to persuade you in a hundred and one ways. It will put forth many arguments trying to dissuade you from your course; it will create all sorts of enticements, all sorts of attractions and dreams to ensnare you. It is only possible to be free from the mind when your resolve is total, when your determination is absolute and you can say to it, "Whatsoever you say will make no difference."
<p class="sutra">STOP WAVERING, MAD MIND!</p>


Now the listener has gone. His journey has already begun; there is no question now of turning back. And when the mind is convinced you are not going to return to it, it will become quiet.


People come to me and they say that they want to take sannyas, but their minds are unsteady. In various ways their minds persuade them against sannyas. The mind tells them they have children, wives, social obligations; it says if they walk about in orange clothes people will laugh. As yet there is no question of dying, as yet there is no question of embracing the flames of the funeral pyre, but you are so timid you are even afraid to wear clothes that are the color of flames.


The Hindus have chosen orange clothes, ochre clothes, from the color of flame. Orange is the color of fire. If you want to enter the fire, the color is useful as a first step. But if your mind will not even allow you to wear clothes the color of fire, how will it ever allow you to enter fire itself? These clothes are also the color of vermilion, the color of luck; they will help you to achieve the highest and greatest good fortune. This is the beginning, the preparation for your death, but if you listen to the mind it will never allow you this opportunity. The mind will not help you in any way.


There are two kinds of situations -- following the mind or opposing it. If you listen to the mind you are following it, but if you oppose it you are still related to it. Then the other half is opposing. But Kabir is not obstinate, he does not say to the mind, "I will fight against you." His words are worth understanding. He speaks to the mind as an elderly person would talk to a weeping child. He says, "Now be quiet. There is no reason whatsoever to complain. It is up to you if you continue to cry. If weeping and crying brings you pleasure, then go ahead. It does not concern me at all."


Kabir is neither for the mind nor against it. Just as a snake casts off its skin, Kabir steps out of the mind and leaves it aside. The mind will simply lie there, just like the snake skin.


When we call the mind mad it means we are neither in favor of it nor in opposition to it. Suppose a madman standing by the side of the road was abusing you. You would not become angry with him or displeased with him, you would simply go on your way -- the whole affair would be finished. Would you quarrel with him? He is not abusing you consciously. There is no intent in his abuse; there is no purpose behind it.


It once happened that Akbar was taking part in a procession on a particular celebration day. A man standing by the side of the road began to insult him. Akbar had him arrested and kept him in jail for the night.


In the morning the man was brought before him. Akbar asked, "Why did you insult me?"


The man seemed surprised. He said, "I insulted you? That's not true. I was drunk. I am not responsible for the one who insulted you. You can punish me for drinking liquor if you want, but you cannot punish me for using abusive language. Liquor spoke those insults." Akbar thought this over for a while and then pardoned the man.


His courtiers asked why he had given the matter so much thought.


He replied, "It was worth thinking about. When he did not insult me consciously, how can he be responsible?"


There had been no intention of insulting Akbar, and so there was really no complaint at all. The matter was over. Had it been done consciously, there would have been a crime. The abuse is the same. If it is done consciously it is meaningful; if it is done in unconsciousness there is no meaning in it whatsoever.


Kabir tells his mad mind it can go on chattering if it enjoys it, but he is going to go his own way. "The wedding procession is ready, the bridegroom's horse is ready, and I am going," Kabir says. "Whatever may happen now," he tells the mind, "let it happen. Don't try to dissuade me, don't talk nonsense. There is no time now for discussing the pros and cons. Now whatsoever may happen and howsoever it may happen, let it happen."


Kabir is not concerned. Now the sati has taken the pot of vermilion in her hand; now there is no question of turning back.
<p class="sutra">DANCE IN ECSTASY, BEYOND ALL DOUBTS.
 DROP GREED, ATTACHMENT, FANCIES.
 DO THE BRAVE FEAR DEATH?
 DOES THE SATI CLING TO HER BODY?</p>


Drop all doubts and dance. Be elated and dance. Set greed, infatuation and illusions aside.
<p class="sutra">DO THE BRAVE FEAR DEATH?</p>


The mind tries to persuade you that you are on the way to meet your death, that you will encounter nothing but death. The mind says there is no God; the mind says there is no liberation. It says this is all hot air, nothing but empty words spoken by cunning people.


Charvaka said the Vedas were the creations of crafty men, and that all talk of God and liberation was simply a trick perpetuated by clever and satanic people. Charvaka said that if you want to drink the best ghee then do so, even if you have to borrow money from others. No one returns after death, he said. He said there is no need to repay anyone, that there should be no concern about repaying, that there is no such thing as a holy act or a sinful one. He said these are all devices, all cunning tricks to ensnare one.


In modern times Marx advocates the same thing. He said religion was an opiate, a device to exploit the poor. This is the same thing Charvaka said three thousand years ago. But the minds of all such men echo the words of Charvaka within. The mind is always communist, always nonbelieving.


Kabir says now is the time for him to dance. He tells himself not to hesitate, not to lose purpose; he says this moment is not to be wasted in sadness, not to be lost in thinking and more thinking. He sees the moment of his dissolution coming nearer and nearer and he is so filled with delight that he dances. Why? The meeting with the beloved will only take place when Kabir is no more: Kabir knows he will only achieve Him if he loses himself. "Then I shall know my soul," Kabir says. "My soul will be born out of the ashes of my ego when it is reduced to dust on the funeral pyre."


The mind has three tricks to ensnare you. One trick is to create greed in you for something. The mind will say, "It was within your reach, it was almost in your hands, so where are you going now? Because you are going away your whole effort will be wasted. You should have worked just one more day, you should just have waited a little bit more and then you would have been successful."


Or the mind may snare you in the net of infatuation. "Whom are you leaving? Are you leaving your own people? Are you going away all alone?" it will ask. "You have your dear ones, your friends, your relatives, society; do you intend to take the opposite path, do you intend to leave all these people behind? Taking an unknown path is definitely a mistake."


Kabir says:
<p class="sutra">REACH THE TOWN BY SOME BACK WAY;
 GET LOOTED ON THE HIGHWAY.</p>


The mind will tell you to walk on the main road. It will say there will be thieves and highwaymen on the other road and that you will be robbed. It will tell you there is always a crowd on the main road, and that being with the crowd is a way of protecting yourself. It will tell you that people will stare at you if you are alone.


Who are you listening to? The mind will create either greed or infatuations or attachments or new illusions to ensnare you. The mind is the creator of dreams; there is no craftsman more clever or cunning than the mind.


The mind will always ask you to try once more. A gambler is in the same predicament as you are. If he wins or loses, he is in difficulty. When he is winning, the mind will say, "Play one more hand. You have been lucky so far; you have a lakh of rupees in your pocket. Stake it all now and double it!" The winning man becomes intoxicated. And to the loser the mind says, "This time you lost -- but don't worry, try again. It is a shame to go home like this. Who knows, your defeat may turn into success." So in either condition, in success or in defeat, the gambler is trapped. The mind is the creator of illusions.
<p class="sutra">DO THE BRAVE FEAR DEATH?</p>


When you do not listen to the mind it has one last trick up its sleeve. It will threaten you with death. All the saints say the path to God is only for the man who is prepared to cut off his head and put it aside; they say the path to God is like the naked edge of a sword. Jesus says you will be saved if you sacrifice yourself, and he says if you try to save yourself you will be lost.


No one has ever tasted divine nectar without dying. Yet the mind will say, "Why do you listen to such useless talk? These men are agents of death; they are trying to persuade you to die. I am your friend. I am in favor of life. Your gurus are your enemies."


And you like the advice the mind gives. You agree with what it has to say. It says to live fully while there is life; it asks why you are in a hurry to die. It says that death is sure to come at its appointed time; it asks what need is there to die before that time comes. Kabir says that only he who dies while alive attains the divine nectar.
<p class="sutra">DO THE BRAVE FEAR DEATH?
 DOES THE SATI CLING TO HER BODY?</p>


Kabir asks his foolish mind, "Is a brave man ever afraid of death?" He asks it, "Are you trying to threaten me with the fear of death?"


Death is a challenge; it is not something to be afraid of. If you accept this challenge as a play, you will experience the greatest joy of life.
<p class="sutra">DOES THE SATI CLING TO HER BODY?</p>


The sati does not decorate her body. She knows the body is just an earthen vessel, but the mind tries to persuade her to look after the vessel, to save it. Kabir asks, "Should I risk everything for this trivial thing when my lover is there, beyond the flames?"


When a sati determines to follow her husband into death, her mind will certainly try to persuade her not to. "What are you doing?" it will ask. "You are still young," it will say. "One lover has died, but have all the others died too? Let this fresh wound heal, and then find another lover, find another husband. Why are you in such a hurry to die? Wait for a while; you will enjoy life again. You have such a beautiful body and now you are going to burn it? That body you adorned so often, that body you looked at in the mirror so often, that body men were mad after -- you are going to throw that body into the fire?"
<p class="sutra">DOES THE SATI CLING TO HER BODY?</p>


The real sati does not fall into the traps of the mind; she turns a deaf ear to its persuasions. You beware too. Kabir's mind has said all of this to him and your mind will tell the same thing to you. Before they become enlightened, before they become SIDDHAS, the minds of all seekers say the same thing. All seekers pass through this stage. This is the nature of the mind.
<p class="sutra">SOCIETY, SCRIPTURE, FAMILY PRESTIGE --
 THE HANGMAN'S NOOSE AT THE NECK.
 MOVE ON THE PATH AND RETURN MIDWAY --
 HA! HA! EVERYONE LAUGHS.</p>


People, society, the Vedas, the scriptures, tradition, family prestige -- all these are like nooses around one's throat. The mind will use them to keep reminding you that what you are doing is against the social structure. People come to me and they say they would like to be initiated into sannyas, but that they are afraid of society. What is this society? Where is this so-called society? It is nothing but a crowd of timid people just like you; it is nothing but people standing on each other's shoulders because of their fear. People who are full of fear themselves create fear in others.


The crowd is never happy when a man attains to his self, because such a man abandons the traditional path of the crowd. Such a man seeks out a small footpath, finds his own way. He has confidence in his own two legs, and slowly, slowly, his dependence on others becomes less and less. If he depends on anyone at all it is on God, and not on other people. The crowd is just a collection of ignorant people. Of what use are such people to him?


Kabir says the crowd is a noose. Kabir, Buddha, Mahavira -- they all saw society as a kind of noose. As long as you consider society as your life, as the all in all, then it is a noose. You are a slave because of society. The people around you, the Vedas, the scriptures, tradition -- these are the impediments that stand in your way. People will say what you are doing is against the scriptures. They will tell you it is written in the scriptures that one should only enter into sannyas in old age, when death is approaching, and they will be shocked that you are becoming a sannyasi in your youth. This is against the scriptures, they will say.


One very old man came to see me. He must have been eighty years old. His son had taken sannyas. The son was not young; he must have been nearly fifty, but the old man was very sad. He said to me, "You give sannyas to such young children?"


Was the son a small child? He had brought his son with him. The son was at least fifty years old. The old man said, "This is against the Vedas. There it is clearly written that sannyas is the last stage. The first stage is BRAHMACHARYA, the second is GRIHASTHA and the third is VANPRASTHA. Sannyas is the last."


I said to him, "Let us not speak about your son.... What is your intention? Has your last stage come yet? If you take sannyas, I will persuade your son not to."


He said, "I shall think about it. I will come again. Let me think it over." Even at eighty he finds an excuse to think about it. And when the son takes sannyas he says, "Not now. Do it at the last stage." He himself is in the final stage. What he is saying to his son is simply this -- "Don't take sannyas at all." The business of the "final stage" is just an excuse.


Does sannyas have anything to do with age? How can age be a condition for awakening? How can age be an obstruction to awakening? If you cannot be awakened while you are young it will be very difficult when you are old. To awaken requires energy. When you are old you will be weak, you will have no energy left, but that is when you go to surrender yourself to God. The flower should be offered when it is fresh, when it is full of energy, when it is overflowing with fragrance. You want to surrender when there is nothing worth surrendering. But that will be a false surrender. And who are you going to deceive?
<p class="sutra">MOVE ON THE PATH AND RETURN MIDWAY --
 HA! HA! EVERYONE LAUGHS.</p>


By "everyone" Kabir does not mean society, he means existence. If someone turns back when he is about to attain to samadhi, Kabir says, the whole of existence will laugh at him, but if someone jumps into samadhi, the whole of existence will be delighted. Then existence will be filled with ecstasy; then it will dance.
<p class="sutra">THIS WHOLE WORLD'S SO NASTY.
 ONLY HE WHO PRAYS IS TRUE.</p>


This whole sansara, this whole world, is unholy because it is born out of the mind. The mind is conflict and unholiness. Only those men are holy, Kabir says, in whose hearts the word Ram is heard, on whose tongues the name of God lives. They are the only holy people, Kabir says.
<p class="sutra">SAYS KABIR: NEVER ABANDON THE NAME.
 FALL DOWN! STAND UP! FLY HIGH!</p>


Kabir says never to forsake the name of God. You may fall, he says, but don't be downcast, just stand up again and again. Don't let His name go for a moment; just hold fast to His name and don't worry at all. You may fall down, you may make mistakes, but if you hold fast to His name the attainment will surely come; you will reach certainly. Don't be afraid to fall.
<p class="sutra">FALL DOWN! STAND UP! FLY HIGH!</p>


The man who is afraid to fall stops walking; he stays seated because of his fear. Do not be afraid to make mistakes. Bear only one thing in mind -- do not make the same mistakes again. Do not fall into the same old traps again and again; this is a sign of an unconscious person. You may fall, but do it in a new way. And then get up again. Whenever you fall and get up again, just let one thing be there constantly -- the remembering of His name. The sound of His name should reverberate within you night and day, in darkness and in light. The thread should never slip from your hand.


Don't miss the boat that carries His name, and don't worry if it rises or falls in the waves. Through this process of falling and getting up again, you will reach to that peak where God is. Remember only one thing -- God's name should never be forgotten.
<p class="sutra">NOTHINGNESS DIES, THE SOUNDLESS DIES;
 EVEN THE INFINITE DIES.
 A TRUE LOVER NEVER DIES.
 SAYS KABIR: KNOW THIS.</p>


The experience of the highest happiness, of SHUNYA, nothingness, will die. The inexpressible sound of Aum also will die. And the experience of the boundless, of the infinite, will die as well. Only one thing -- the love for God -- does not die.
<p class="sutra">THIS WHOLE WORLD'S SO NASTY.
 ONLY HE WHO PRAYS IS TRUE.
 SAYS KABIR: NEVER ABANDON THE NAME.
 FALL DOWN! STAND UP! FLY HIGH!</p>


Hold fast to one thing only, to the remembering of God's name. That is the only refuge, the only support. Be conscious of Him every moment and then even if you fall often don't worry. Just don't let that thread slip out of your hand. With the help of that tiny thread you will be able to stand up again.


It once happened that a certain emperor became displeased with his chief minister and sentenced him to life imprisonment. He was shut up in a high tower, in a minaret on the outskirts of the city. Escape from it was an impossibility. If he were to try to escape he would fall and die -- the minaret was about five hundred feet high, and there was a strict watch around it.


His wife was anxious. What to do? How to free him? The sentence was for life, and the chief minister was a young man, he had a long time yet to live. So his wife went to a fakir and asked to be shown a way out. The fakir said, "We know only one way, and you can use it too. All you have to do is hold a thread to him. We know one thread, the thread of remembering God, and you can see that we are out of the prison of the world. This is such a small prison, just hold a thread to him, just extend him a thread."


The minister's wife was puzzled, "I do not follow you," she said. "Please don't speak in riddles."


The fakir said to her, "Catch hold of a worm that is sensitive to smell and put some honey on its nose. Following the smell of honey, the worm will begin to climb. As it goes higher and higher the smell will also go higher and higher; the smell will always be in front of the worm's nose. Just tie a thin thread to the worm's tail." The woman did as she had been told, and the worm began to climb upwards, trailing the thin thread along behind it.


All this time the minister had been thinking about escape, he was very anxious to get away. He kept hoping that someone, his wife or his friends, would find a way out, would find a way for him to escape. He was alert to any opportunity.


That morning he noticed a worm climbing the tower wall and also saw that a thread was following it. At once he knew a means of rescue had been found. He grabbed the thread and began to pull. A thin rope was tied to the end of the thread, and he caught hold of the rope and continued pulling. A thick strong rope was tied to the end of the thin one and so, with the help of the thick rope, he climbed down and ran away.


Later he asked his wife who had shown her the trick. The wife explained that a fakir had shown it to her. Her husband said, "With the help of that thread I am now out of prison. But that was just a tiny prison; now I am out of a greater prison too." He said to his wife, "I am not coming home! Take me to that fakir who freed me from prison. What point is there in going home now? Now I must escape from this prison of the world completely. And that fakir knows the secret."


This is the great secret:
<p class="sutra">THIS WHOLE WORLD'S SO NASTY.
 ONLY HE WHO PRAYS IS TRUE.
 SAYS KABIR: NEVER ABANDON THE NAME.
 FALL DOWN! STAND UP! FLY HIGH!</p>
		

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