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Book Name: The Buddha DiseasePrevious     Next
 

people to be silent, and they will be... unmoving like buddha statues. But they are not silent! Deep down they are boiling... they are sitting on volcanoes. They are simply following an order.

You can do the same thing to yourself. You can become the commander and the commanded. You can force yourself, you can torture yourself, and if you do it long enough you will come to attain a certain quality of silence. But it will be dead and it will not have any bliss in it. In fact it will be very, very miserable. It will be empty, negative. It will be more sad than joyful. It will be a sort of death shadow.

The real silence always carries a bubbling joy. The real silence is a dancing silence. The real silence is true bliss, and the real silence cannot be forced. You cannot regiment yourself for it -- you have to understand life. The more you understand, the more silent you become.

The real silence comes through understanding; the false silence comes through practice. The false silence is very cheap and easy; the real silence is difficult. Hence people choose the false because it is very easily available. Any stupid person can have it -- just a little torturing of the body and the mind.

I am completely against any falsity. It is better to be tense but to be true. It is better to be angry but to be true, rather than to be silent and false, because from the true the way goes towards truth, but from the false there is no go.

The false is a dead-end. It doesn't connect anywhere -- it brings you to a cul-de-sac. You cannot go back because you have put so much in it, invested so much in it. And you cannot go ahead because there is no way to go -- just a precipice.

The false can never lead to the real because the false one day or other comes to end suddenly, and the road is no more ahead. You cannot go back, because thirty years, forty years practising... mm? that going back means you have accepted your defeat.

So I see many people -- so called saints, religious people -- sitting there at the end of the road, not courageous enough to come back and to say to the world that they failed, that the path was wrong, that their efforts

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