With what love and compassion you fold your hands and do namaste to us – thank you, thank you, Osho. I have never asked – yet, all my questions have been answered. Could you guide us as to what kind of question a disciple should ask?
The disciple is not to ask but to drink. He has no questions but only a quest. He is not inquiring. He has felt the truth, he has seen a glimpse of it, he wants to become it. The distance hurts.
The disciple is not a student full of curiosities, full of thousands of kinds of questions. The disciple is silent. There are no questions at all.
And you know it. You yourself have written that you have never asked a question and all your questions have been answered.
To ask a question does not mean that you will get the answer, because the very mind that asks the question is not the receiver of the answer, and cannot be the receiver of the answer. This is something very fundamental to understand: questions come from the mind, and the answer happens in the heart.
The heart never asks, and the mind is never satisfied with any answer. Give an answer to the mind and it will create a hundred questions out of that answer. And only the mind can ask.
The heart knows no language – it knows how to love, it knows how to be grateful, it knows how to be open, it knows how to come so close to the master that you are consumed in the very silence of the master.
His silence becomes your silence. His truth becomes your truth. This is the mystery that happens between the master and the disciple, but never between the teacher and the student.
The disciple has learned one thing, perhaps in hundreds of lives: that the head is a factory where questions are manufactured – put anything into it, and out comes a question. The head never receives any answer, that is not its function. And we should not ask something from a certain faculty that is beyond its capacities and limitations.
You never ask to see music, because you know your eyes cannot see music. You never ask to hear the light, because you know that your ears are not meant for that; they are specialized parts of your body for a special function.
The function of the head is to create questions, doubts, suspicions, skepticism. It is helpful as far as scientific research is concerned, as far as the objective world is concerned. A man with a heart cannot be expected to become an Albert Einstein. To be an Albert Einstein you need a trained head, which can go on asking questions infinitely.
The poet, the mystic – they know the answer. The poet knows it once in a while. The mystic knows it every moment – waking or asleep, living or dying – because it is not something separate from him; he is the answer.