The first question:
There is something that even you cannot do. You can’t put an Italian in an Irish joke. It is against the dharma.
It is true, I goofed again! Go on reminding me. These goddamned jokes are dangerous! And I love the Italians so much that wherever I can find a place for them I try to manage. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail, but you caught me.
To put the record right, the joke is:
Two gentlemen are sitting in a garden, one British, one Irish.
The British gentleman asked the Irish, “If you were not Irish, what would you be?”
The Irish says, “Of course I would be British.”
And then he asks the British, “If you were not British, what would you be?”
And the British said, “I would be ashamed.”
But I got mixed up. That’s why I have all my jokes typed with me. That one was not typed with me. About God and about truth and about religion there is no trouble – I know them from my personal experience. But these jokes!
Yes, Chetana, it is against the dharma. And I hope it is not going to happen again.
The second question:
Why can’t I see my own faults while I am immensely capable of seeing others’, even their smallest ones?
It is very normal. It is not something exceptional. Our eyes are focused on others; we are other-oriented. We only see the others – it is not only a question of faults – we never see ourselves. Even if we want to see ourselves we have to look in a mirror, we have to create the image. When the image is there the other has appeared. The mirror helps us to see ourselves because it creates the other. Otherwise we are absolutely extroverts; we have forgotten the language of how to look in. Hence, as a consequence, you cannot see your own faults; nobody can.