oh show since being with you i have noticed that when a person becomes closely related to you they sometimes get a fixed idea about who you are it seems like they forget who you really are and even why they have come to you this situation puzzles me even scares me a little would you please comment the mind has a natural tendency to get quickly fixed ideas it is very much afraid of change because change means rearrangement each time you change something you have to rearrange your whole inner being mind wants to live with fixed ideas when a person comes to me and it has been happening for 35 years continuously he starts loving me he comes closer becomes intimate and then gets a fixed idea and that’s where he misses me because now his fixed idea is going to create trouble i am not an idea and i am not fixed i am changing i am in absolute agreement with heraclitus that you cannot step twice in the same river translated it means you cannot meet the same person again i not only agree with him i go a little further
I say, you cannot step in the same river even once. Again, translated to the human world, it means you cannot meet the same person even once, because even while you are meeting him, he is changing, you are changing, the whole world is changing. But once you get a fixed idea, you cling to it, and I’m constantly going to change. Tomorrow, you will find yourself in a conflict.
The Spiritual Depth of the Sanskrit Word Dhan
So many have come, so many have gone, and this has been one of the basic reasons — they became too much fascinated with their own idea of me, that I became secondary, their idea of me became primary. That, too, was old and dated. Fresh and young I am, but with them, I became secondary. And if there was any conflict between their idea and my reality, they went with their idea, even to the point of becoming enemies of me, telling people that I am no more the same, I am no more the person I used to be.
They have worshipped a great saint, but I am no more the same person. They will keep my memory of the past deep in their heart, but it is simply a photograph. Photographs don’t change. Once, it happened, one of my friends was collecting my photographs from my very childhood, from wherever he could get them, and he had made a big album. He was showing me — he had done great work — he had gone to many places, to many people, wherever he heard somebody had a picture of me, he went there either to get the original or a copy of it.
But while he was showing them to me, he felt I was not interested. He stopped and said to me, “You don’t seem to be interested.” I said, “I don’t seem to be interested because none of these photographs represent me. They only represent that which is dead. And a photograph can only represent that which is dead. A photograph is always of the dead. You cannot find a photograph which is of the living.”
In Picasso’s home, there used to be a painted self-portrait of Picasso. He never sold it at any price. That was the only picture he insisted not to sell. And the more he insisted not to sell, more and more people were coming with bigger and bigger offers for the picture. It became a challenge for art collectors.
One beautiful woman had come with the same idea — to purchase the picture, whatever the price. She was rich enough. She said to Picasso, “I am willing to pay you as much as you want for your portrait.”
Picasso said, “People are mad for a dead thing. They go on harassing me. You can have it without any price, but remember, it is not me.”
The woman looked puzzled. She said, “It is not you? What do you mean?”
He said, “If it was me, I would have kissed you by now. It does not speak, it does not love, it does not sing, it doesn’t dance. Even such a beautiful woman is standing before it, and the idiot is not even kissing you! Just take it away. It is dead. Remove it from here. It is not me.”
People get fixed ideas. And very soon, ordinarily, it goes perfectly well because you meet only dead people — who are not changing, who go on saying the same thing their whole life, just like a parrot. They are consistent people. They have all your respect.
I seem to you self-contradictory, inconsistent, for the simple reason that I have decided not to die before I die. I am going to live to the very last breath, so you cannot be certain about me till my last breath. After that, you can make any image of me and be satisfied with it. But remember, it will not be me.
To be with me needs courage, and the greatest courage is to be capable of seeing the change and moving with it. It may be difficult. It is easy to have one idea once, and then be finished.
A Sufi story: A fakir was appointed as the prime minister, because he was known to be very wise. Somewhat weird was his wisdom, but still, wisdom is wisdom. And the first day, when they went to have their dinner together, a certain vegetable called bhindi was made by the cook, stuffed with Eastern spices. It is a delicacy, and the king appreciated the cook.
After that, Mulla said in appreciation of the bhindi, “This is the most precious vegetable in the world. It gives you long life, it keeps you healthy, it gives you resistance against diseases,” and so on and so forth.
The king said, “I never knew that you know so much about vegetables.”
And the cook heard about it, so he thought that if bhindi is such a thing that our king can live long, healthy, and young, the next day again bhindi was made. And again, Mulla praised it, even going higher than the first day.
Third day, the bhindi was made, and Mulla went even still higher. Fourth day, bhindi was made, and Mulla was going higher and higher. Fifth day, Mulla even said that bhindi is a divine food — God eats only bhindi.
But the king was bored. He threw the plate of bhindi and told Mulla Nasruddin, “You are an idiot. Bhindi and God eats bhindi every day? You will drive me mad!”
Mulla said, “Lord, you are getting unnecessarily hot. I am your servant. You said bhindi is good, I simply followed you. And when I do something, I do it perfectly. And I am not a servant to bhindi, I am your servant. The truth is, bhindi is the worst thing in the world — even devils don’t eat it. You did well that you threw it.”
He threw his plate farther away than the king, and he said, “You always should remember that I am your servant, and you are always right. And I am a consistent man. I will remain consistently your servant, whatever happens.”
There are people, almost the whole world, who live in a certain consistency. It is easier. But when you come closer to a man like me, you are going to be in difficulty. Either you will have to drop your idea of consistency, or you will have to drop me. And people are so infatuated with their own ideas that they can drop me, but they cannot drop their ideas.