This is my observation: that true sannyas happens only when you have come to the verge of suicide. When you see that the outside world is finished, then there are only two alternatives left: either commit suicide and be finished because there is nothing to live for any more, or turn in. “The outer world has failed, now let us try the inner”: that is sannyas. Sannyas and suicide are two aspects of the same coin. If you are focused and obsessed with the outside, then suicide; if you are a little loose, flexible, then sannyas.
But a master cannot be diplomatic. He has to create this crisis in which suicide is possible – and also sannyas, also transformation, also a new birth. But a new birth is possible only when you die to the old, when you die to the past.
Cynthia’s fine figure had been poured into a beautiful form-fitting gown and she made a point of calling her date’s attention to it over and over again through-out the evening.
Finally, over a nightcap in his apartment, he said, “You have been talking about that dress all evening long. You called my attention to it first when we met for cocktails, mentioned it again at dinner, and still again at the theater. Now that we are here alone in my penthouse, what do you say if we drop the subject?”
This is diplomacy! But masters simply call a spade a spade. Their truth is utterly nude; whether you like it or not is not the point. They cannot compromise with your likings. If they start compromising with your likings they can’t be of any help to you. To compromise with you means to compromise with your sleep, your unconsciousness, your mechanicalness. To compromise with you means to stop waking you up. That is not possible.
Hence, I cannot be diplomatic. Moreover, I am not British.
Just the other day I was talking about poor Anurag’s mother – a perfect British lady! – but she was not here, just as expected. She had been here only once in many weeks. She simply goes on sitting in the hotel, utterly bored – as every British person is bored! Poor Anurag – I call her “poor” because she is going through something really horrible. Now I have to call it horrible, I can’t be diplomatic! She arranged so that her mother could listen to the tape, and after she listened to the tape Anurag asked her, “What do you think of it?” She said, “Dear, I fell asleep.”
This is diplomacy!
People listen only to that which they want to listen to; otherwise they fall asleep. At least they can think of a thousand other things, and that too is a kind of sleep because they are no longer listening.
I have to be hard! I have to be as hard as possible because your sleep is deep and it has to be shattered. I have to hit your head with a hammer, otherwise you are not going to wake up. For centuries you have been asleep; sleep has become your nature. You have forgotten what awareness is, what to be awake means.