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> Osho’s experiences with Mad people

I used to go to madhouses….
One of my friends was the governor of one of the states, so he allowed me—I could visit any madhouse in the state, or any jail, wherever I wanted to go. Otherwise, it is very difficult to see mad people. empti06

It sometimes happens that a person is brought to me and they say he is mad. He meditates and he is perfectly okay; nothing is wrong. Then he goes back home and the family again expects the madness from him. Then he starts falling into the old trap again. He has to play the role.
This is one of the most significant things to understand: almost ninety percent of the people who are in madhouses are not mad. They are just playing a role because people have forced that role on them, and they accepted it. They find it comfortable and convenient, and once they accepted it, it doesn't look good to destroy people's expectations. This is my understanding: if you say to a hundred mad people that they are not mad, ninety can come out immediately—if they are allowed to come out, and if they are made to understand that they are just playing a game. And it is a foolish game, because they are the losers. hammer02

In my town one of my friends' uncles was mad. They were rich people. I used to go in their house often, but even I became aware only after years that one of his uncles was kept in an underground basement, chained.
I said, "Why?"
They said, "He is mad. There were only two ways: either we keep him in our own house, chained…. And of course we cannot keep him chained in the house; otherwise people will be coming and everybody will feel worried and concerned. And his children, his wife, watching their father, their husband…. And it is against our family's reputation to send him to prison, so we found this way: we have imprisoned him underground. His food is being taken to him by a servant; otherwise nobody goes to see him, nobody goes to meet him."
I persuaded my friend, "I would like to meet your uncle."
He said, "But I cannot come with you—he is a dangerous man, he is mad! Although he is chained he can do anything."
I said, "He can at the most kill me. You just remain behind me so if I am killed you escape, but I would like to go."
Because I insisted, he managed to get the key from the servant who used to take the food. In thirty years I was the first person from the outside world, other than the servant, who had met him; and that man may have been mad—I cannot say—but now he was not mad. But nobody was ready to listen to him because all mad people say, "We are not mad."
So when he said this to the servant, "Tell my family that I am not mad," the servant simply laughed. He even told the family but nobody took any note of it.
When I saw the man, I sat with him, I talked with him. He was as sane as anybody else in the world—perhaps a little more, because he said one thing to me: "Being here for thirty years has been a tremendous experience. In fact I feel fortunate that I am out of your mad world. They think I am mad—let them think that, there is no harm—but in fact I am fortunate that I am out of your mad world. What do you think?" he said to me.
I said, "You are absolutely right. The world outside is far madder than when you left it thirty years before. In thirty years there has been great evolution in everything—in madness too. You stop saying to people that you are not mad; otherwise they will take you out. You are living a perfectly beautiful life. You have enough space to walk…."
He said, "That's the only exercise I can do here—walking."
And I started to teach him vipassana. I said, "You are in such perfect conditions to become a buddha: no worries, no botherations, no disturbances. You are really blessed."
And he started practicing vipassana. I told him, "You can practice it sitting, you can practice it walking"—and he was my first disciple as far as vipassana is concerned. And you will be surprised that he died a sannyasin—died in the basement.
But the last time I had gone to my village, I went to see him. He said, "I'm ready; now you initiate me. My days are numbered, and I would like to die as your sannyasin. I'm your disciple; for twenty years you have been my master and whatever you had promised is fulfilled."
And you could see from his face, from his eyes, that he was not the same person—a total transformation, a mutation….
Mad people need methods of meditation so that they can come out of their madness.
The criminals need psychological help, spiritual support.
They are really deep-down sick, and you are punishing sick people. It is not their fault. If somebody murders, that means he has carried a tendency to murder in him for a long time. It is not that somewhere, out of nowhere, suddenly you murder somebody. dark04

Once a young boy was brought to me. His parents were very much disturbed; they had taken him to psychoanalysts, to other doctors, but nothing had worked. And his problem was not very great, but it was disturbing his whole life and his whole future. He had got this idea that while he was sleeping—he used to sleep with his mouth open—two flies had entered his mouth, and they were going around inside his body. Now they are here, now they are there, now they have moved towards the head. The whole day the boy could not do anything else, there was no way to get rid of those two flies.
He was examined, there were no flies. And even if you swallowed two flies, they could not go on moving this way. There are no superhighways like this, that the flies are going to the head, and to the feet, and to the heart, and to the stomach, and they are continuously going around and buzzing…he could hear their buzz. And how could he remain at ease? Even in the night he could not sleep well.
When the parents brought him to me they must have taken him to many people already. Somebody suggested that perhaps I might be of some help. I listened to the story and I said to the parents, "You are absolutely wrong, and the boy is absolutely right."
The boy looked at me. I was the first man to whom his parents had taken him who had given him self-respect, dignity. Others were all telling him, "You are crazy. There are no flies."
I said, "You are all crazy. I can see his flies."
The father and the mother both became disturbed…where had they come? Now I was going to strengthen the idea of the boy even more. But it was too late. I said, "You sit down. You have been torturing him unnecessarily. First, he's being tortured by these two flies, and you are taking him all around. You have been humiliating him."
First, I talked to the boy's parents, and convinced the boy that I was absolutely with him. He said, "You are the first man who knows something about these deeper problems."
I said, "I absolutely agree with you. You have been tortured by these two flies, so we will take them out."
He said, "It will be very difficult because they go on changing their place."
I said, "You don't be worried."
I took him inside the room, left the parents outside and told him to lie down. Because I was absolutely favorable to him, he listened to me. He lay down, and I told him to close his eyes and watch those flies—where they were going—so that he would have an exact idea where they were. "When they are very close to your mouth, I will pull them out."
He said, "That seems to be logical. They have entered from the mouth."
So I put him on the bed with his eyes closed, and I rushed all over the house to find two flies. It was a difficult job and it was just by chance…Hindu women use coconut oil for their hair—which is a dirty habit. You can smell from far away that a Hindu woman is coming close. And I had seen dead flies many times in their bottles of coconut oil, so I rushed around looking for a coconut oil bottle. And by chance, I found not only two, but three flies.
Strangely, it seems almost every coconut oil bottle catches these flies—they go in and they get caught, they cannot fly. When they are in the bottle, taking a holy dip in the coconut oil, then they cannot fly—their wings get sticky. And particularly if it is winter time, then the coconut oil becomes solid. It was winter time, so it was very easy for me to take those three flies.
I cleaned them, washed them, brought them in, and I told the boy, "Keep your eyes on the flies—where are they?"
And he said, "They are very close. They are just near my throat."
I said, "This is the moment. Open your mouth." And as he opened his mouth, I took the flies out of his mouth which I already had in my hands. I told him, "You were wrong, there were not two, there were three."
He said, "My God! You are the right person." I showed him three flies. He said, "It feels so peaceful inside—no buzzing, no flies."
He rushed out with the flies to show his parents, and the parents were shocked. They said, "We have been to the doctors, you have been x-rayed. We have been to the psychoanalyst, you have been psychoanalyzed, and nobody has detected any flies. But now we cannot say anything. This man has even caught them."
The boy said, "Can I take these flies with me to show to all those doctors? They are idiots because they were condemning me that I'm crazy. Now I want to show all of them that they are crazy. My only fault was that I was counting two, and there were three."
I said, "You can take these without fear, and if at any time any fly enters again, I'm available. You can come to me. You need not go anywhere else."
He said, "Now it won't happen because now I sleep with a bandage on my mouth. I have suffered enough—it has been almost two years I have been suffering."
And he went to the doctors, he went to the psychoanalyst; and one of the doctors was very friendly with me. He was a Rotarian, and I had gone the next day to speak in the Rotary Club. We met there…he said, "You are something. Where did you get those three flies from? Now that boy is making a fool of us. And he was saying, `All your X-rays, and all your education is just nonsense. You don't know anything about flies when they enter into somebody's body. And these are the flies, as a proof.'
"I inquired of him, `Who has caught them?'
"He mentioned your name, very respectfully, and he said, `He is the only man in the whole city who treated me as a human being, not as a madman—who realized my difficulty. And once he accepted my difficulty, it was not much trouble because they were roaming all over my body. He simply said, `When they come close to your mouth, just tell me. Keep your eyes closed, so I can catch hold.' And I was thinking there were only two…there were three!'"
Imagination can create a kind of insanity if it starts believing in its own daydreams—it can create hallucinations. As far as I'm concerned, your so-called saints, great religious leaders who have seen God, who have met God, who have talked with God, are in the same category with this crazy boy who had two flies moving inside him. Their God is just their imagination. rebel35

In Poona, some twenty years ago, a young man who was a professor in the university came to see me. He wanted a private interview; he did not want to say anything about his problem before others. And later on, naturally I understood that it must have been embarrassing for him to say it before others. He had from his very childhood learned the habit—which is very strange, because a man's physiology does not allow it—of walking like a woman.
A man cannot walk like a woman for the simple reason that he does not have a womb. It is the womb in the woman's body that makes her walk differently; without the womb, nobody can manage it. But something must have happened in his childhood of which he was not aware. Perhaps he was born in a house where there were only girls—his sisters—and he was the only boy. And naturally, children learn from imitation: if he was surrounded only by girls, he may have started moving the way they were moving and become almost fixated on it.
Everybody was laughing at him, and particularly that he is a professor in the university, and walking like a woman, and all the students laughing…. He had been to doctors, but they said, "What can we do?—there is no disease, no medicine can help. There is nothing wrong in your body. No operation can help."
He had been to psychoanalysts in Bombay and New Delhi and they were also unbelieving, because such a case had never come to them. So none of the advice they could give was the advice of psychoanalysis—because psychoanalysis has no precedent for such a case. In all the discoveries of psychoanalysis, I have never come across a single case like this that has been treated by psychoanalysts.
So naturally…the man was a psychoanalyst, but the advice he was giving was just commonplace advice. He said, "You have to try hard to walk like a man. Be alert." This is commonsense advice. "What can be done? You have to change your habit and create a new habit. So particularly when you go for a morning walk, or an evening walk, try hard to walk like a man."
And that created the trouble: the more he tried to walk like a man, the more his mind was getting hypnotized to walk like a woman. That was why he was trying…otherwise nobody tries. Have you ever tried not to walk like a woman?
But if you are so consciously trying hard to walk like a man, you don't understand the mechanism of hypnosis: you are hypnotizing yourself more to walk like a woman. You are trying hard and you are failing, and every failure is making your autohypnotic situation deeper. So all the advice of great psychoanalysts turned him into even more of a mess. He started walking more like a woman than he had before.
When he came to see me, a few friends were there and he said, "I cannot tell you my problem. I want absolute privacy."
So I said, "Okay, you can come into my room." I took him into my room, and he locked the door. I said, "What kind of problem do you have that you are so much afraid?"
He said "It is so embarrassing…I walk like a woman."
I said, "You should not be embarrassed about it. In fact, you have done a miracle. Physiologists cannot believe that it is possible: walking like a woman needs a womb, otherwise you cannot. And you don't have a womb…"
He said, "Whatever may be the case…"
I said, "You are somebody to be appreciated. Who says that this is embarrassing? You would win a competition, you would come first in the whole world—a man walking like a woman…no man can compete with you!"
He said, "What are you saying? You are trying to console me."
I said, "No. I am simply trying to make it clear to you…you have listened to psychoanalysts and other advisers who have told you to make hard and conscious efforts to walk like a man—and what has been the result?"
He said, "The result has been this, that I am walking more like a woman than before."
I said, "Now, listen to my advice. You try hard to walk like a woman…"
He said, "You will make me look absolutely stupid."
I said, "You try it just here in this room, before me. Make a conscious effort to walk like a woman. I want to see how you can walk…because it is physiologically impossible. It is just a psychological conditioning, and it can be broken—but not by the opposite extreme." He was afraid, but I said, "You try, just around the room—but be conscious and make it as woman-like as possible."
And he failed, he could not manage it. He said "My God, this is strange!"
I said, "Now go out, go to the university, and walk consciously as a woman. Watch women, how they are walking…find the best woman and just walk like her."
And after seven days, when I was leaving, he came back and he said, "You have done a miracle. The harder I tried to walk like a woman…I could not do it. People have even started looking at me strangely, because they expect me to walk like a woman and I am walking like a man. I am trying my hardest, my best, to walk like a woman, and nothing succeeds!"
I said to him, "This is the way to break through your autohypnosis. Autohypnosis is unconscious. If you consciously do the same thing, then the autohypnosis will be broken. It cannot stand the light of consciousness." tahui17

Traveling all over the country, while I was preparing for my people, I was studying all kinds of people—neurotic, psychotic, all kinds of people spiritual, material. secret10

I have been telling my people for almost thirty years, on and off, that psychoanalysis is dead, as dead as Sigmund Freud. But no psychoanalyst ever answered. The reality is that psychoanalysis has never been alive, but it was a great method of exploitation of the sick people….
From my university days I have been fighting, first, with my professors of psychology and psychoanalysis. Then, when I became a teacher in the university, I was fighting with my colleagues who were in the same department. But man's blindness, deafness, dumbness, seems to be infinite….
The materialist believes only in the body. The psychoanalyst believes in the mind as a by-product of the body: when the body dies the mind disappears also. So what are you doing?—torturing people unnecessarily. Neither the mind is going to be your eternal friend, nor the body. Just use them, but don't forget there is a witness within you.
Hence, I have been fighting for meditation. I have been telling people that unless psychoanalysis is based in meditation, unless it helps people to discover the no-mind, the beyond, it is an absolutely futile exercise of exploiting people. But no psychoanalyst agreed with me. poetry01

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