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> Osho’s interaction with the Rich and the Royal

All over the world there are socialist parties, and their only function is to prevent people from becoming communist. They are being paid by the capitalists—as far as India is concerned I am absolutely certain. I know, because the same man offered me money also….
The head of India's biggest super-rich family was Jugal Kishore Birla*. He was giving monthly salaries to Jaiprakash Narayan, who was the head of the Socialist Party of India. Seeing my meetings, where fifty thousand or one hundred thousand people would attend, he was immensely interested.
And I used to stay in Delhi with one of the members of parliament from my constituency, Dr. Seth Govindadas. Both Seth Govindadas and Jugal Kishore Birla belong to the same caste, of Marwaris—they are the Jews of India—so he had found a medium to reach me. He asked Govinddas, "A meeting is absolutely necessary. You arrange it."
Govinddas said to me, when I was staying with him in Delhi for a few days, "It will be immensely helpful for your work."
I said, "In what way can Jugal Kishore Birla help my work? My work is to destroy Birlas, and Tatas, and Sahus"—the three great super-rich families of India—"how can he help me?"
He said, "But there is nothing wrong in meeting the man." I said, "Okay."
So I met the man, and he immediately made an offer to me: "I will give you a blank check, as I have given to Mahatma Gandhi." And he had been supporting the freedom movement, and had a very clear vision of the future, that sooner or later these people would be the presidents, the prime ministers, so whatever he was giving them was an investment. Then he would take the advantage—and he was taking advantage, after the freedom of India. People who had been on a monthly salary from him…he had purchased their souls.
He told me, "Jaiprakash Narayan is on my payroll."
I said, "If you can give me a blank check without any conditions, I will be grateful to you. But I don't accept any conditions. I cannot sell myself."
He said, "Conditions are bound to be there; otherwise why should I give you a blank check? I am a businessman."
I said, "You may be a businessman, I am not."
He said, "But my conditions are very simple: preach Hinduism to the world. And the second condition is, create a great movement in India to protect the cows from being slaughtered."
I simply got up and I said, "Throw your blank check to the dogs! I am going." Govindadas was very much embarrassed, because they all felt great respect for his money and his support.
And I told him, "You have asked me to come, and you have insulted me! Nothing can be more insulting than offering money as a bribe, trying to purchase a man. You cannot purchase me—nobody can purchase me. I am going to speak against Hinduism my whole life! You have strengthened my idea; you have reminded me that I have to take care of Hinduism. And I am going to fight with all those people who are trying to stop cow slaughter."
That's how I came to be the arch-enemy of the Shankaracharya of Puri, because he is the head of the movement to stop cow slaughter.
So I know from the very man himself, Jugal Kishore Birla, that the head of the Socialist Party and perhaps other leaders were on his payroll.
Why was he paying the socialists? What is the function of the socialist? The function is to divide the proletariat, to create barriers so the proletariat, the poor people, the labor unions, don't go to the communists. fire06
*Note: there are 4 big industrial houses/families in India: Birla, Sahu, Tata, Bajaj  

I have told you that the richest man in India, Jugal Kisore Birla, had offered to give me a blank checkbook if I was ready to spread Hinduism to the world at large, and create a movement in India to force the government to ban cow slaughter. When I refused him he said, "Young man, you think twice because Jawaharlal gets money from me, Jaiprakash Narayan gets money from me, Ram Manohar Lohia gets money from me, Ashok Mehta gets money from me." All these were the topmost leaders.
He said, "And every month I am giving them money, as much as they need. Even to Ashok Mehta who is the president of the socialist party of India, which is against the rich people—even he is my man." He said, "I give to all party presidents, important people; whoever comes to power he will be my man. Let them talk what they talk; talking does not matter—I have purchased them."
I told Indira about Jaiprakash, just in that conversation in which I talked about Morarji—to throw him out. She was shocked! She could not believe it because she called him uncle; he was almost like a brother to Jawaharlal. He had been Jawaharlal's secretary for many years and their relationship was very close. And Indira was brought up in front of his eyes. When she was just a small child she used to call him "Kaka"—uncle.
And when I said, "Jugal Kisore himself has told me, and I don't think that old man was telling a lie. In fact, how does Jaiprakash maintain himself?—because he does not belong to any party. He does not have any group of supporters; he has renounced politics. He does not earn a single pai. How does he manage to have two secretaries, one typist? How does he manage to travel in airplanes continually? Money must be coming from somewhere, and he has no visible source. My feeling is that Jugal Kisore was not lying."
Indira mentioned this to Jaiprakash: "Do you get a salary every month from the Birla house?" And that was the thing that hit him hard; that was when he decided that Indira could no longer be tolerated. He willingly became a partner of Morarji Desai's and all the people—it always happens whenever you are in power that you manage to create enemies—all the enemies were together. But Jaiprakash was the key. Morarji is not capable of gathering anybody—he is simply retarded—but Jaiprakash was an intelligent man.
He managed to overturn the government and to show his last renunciation: that although he had overturned the government, he was not going to be the prime minister. He wanted to prove that he was higher than Jawaharlal. That was his only, his deepest longing—to be higher than Jawaharlal. So he placed Morarji Desai in the prime ministership just to show to history: "Somebody was trying to place me as premier, but I don't care about these premierships—l can create my own premiers." But it was all ego.
I used to speak in Patna—Maitreya will be aware of the fact—and because Jaiprakash also belonged to Patna, his wife used to come to attend my meetings. I was puzzled. I enquired of my host, "The wife comes, but I never see Jaiprakash."
He laughed, he said, "I asked the same question of Prakashwati, Jaiprakash's wife. She said, 'He comes but he sits in the car outside and listens from there. He cannot gather courage to come in and let it be seen by people that he has come to listen to somebody."'
The ego is so subtle and so slippery. And the politician is sick because of his ego. ignor15

The first time I spoke in Bombay was on Mahavira's birthday. At least twenty to thirty thousand Jainas were present….
I had come for the first time to this city. The man who invited me was a very rare man, rare in the sense that there was not a single important person in India who was not respectful towards that old man. And the reason was that that old man…his name was Chiranjilal Badjate and he was the manager for Jamnalal Bajaj. Jamnalal Bajaj had invited Mahatma Gandhi from Sabarmati, Gujarat to his own place in Wardha, and had made a beautiful ashram for him there.
He gave Gandhi a blank check; whatever he wanted to spend, whatever he wanted to do with the money, he could do. He never asked, "Where does the money go? What happens to it?" And because Mahatma Gandhi was in Wardha, all the great freedom fighters in India, writers, poets, were going to see Gandhi, to meet Gandhi. And for them Jamnalal Bajaj had made a special guest house for five hundred people to stay together at one time. Chiranjilal was his manager, so he was the link between Mahatma Gandhi and Jamnalal Bajaj, Jawaharlal Nehru, Motilal Nehru, Madan Mohan Malaviya. All these people were respectful towards the old man.
He was the man who invited me to Bombay.
I had spoken at a Jaina conference, and as I came down from the stage—it was a cold night, he was covering himself with a blanket—he threw the blanket on the ground, took hold of me and asked me to sit down, just to sit down for five minutes with him.
But I said, "Your blanket will become dirty."
He said, "Forget about the blanket—you just sit down—because I don't have anything else." And I had no idea who this man was. He introduced himself; then too I had no idea, just his name.
He said, "I am inviting you to Bombay for a conference, and you cannot say no." Tears were in his eyes; he said, "In my whole I have heard life all the great orators of this country, but I have never felt such deep harmony as I have felt with you, although what you were saying was against my conditioning. I am Mahatma Gandhi's follower. I am the manager for Jamnalal, and I have lived my whole life according to Mahatma Gandhi's principles—and you were speaking against them. But still somehow I felt you are right and I have been wrong."
And he must have been seventy years old, but with great courage to say, "My seventy years were wrong"; and he had listened to me only for ten minutes. "And you cannot say no. This conference is absolutely important because I want you to be introduced to my friends in Bombay and then to my friends all over India."
So I said, "I will come."
I knew nobody in Bombay, and somehow…. Because he was an old man with thick glasses, in the night perhaps he could not see me perfectly well. He described me to the organizers of the conference here, but somehow he told them that I used a Gandhi cap. Just seventy years continuously seeing Gandhi caps, Gandhi caps—he had not seen anybody else without a Gandhi cap—so it must have been somehow completely fixed in his mind.
I was standing at the door; all the passengers had left. At least twenty-five people were running from this side to that side. They would look at me from up and down, from down and up, and just as they saw my head they would rush on. I said, "What is wrong with my head? Up to the head they look as if things are going right, and the moment they see my head they are simply gone!" But finally, I was the only passenger left, and those were the only people left who had come to receive anybody.
One of them came to me and asked, "Have you not put on your Gandhi cap today?"
I said, "Now I understand what the problem is. But who told you that I have ever used a Gandhi cap?"
And Chiranjilal had got caught somewhere in the traffic. He was coming running!—a seventy year-old man. He said, "Yes! This is the man, but where is the cap?"
I said, "You created this whole trouble. I am standing here for half an hour these people are running all over the platform looking for the Gandhi cap. If you had told me I would have put on a Gandhi cap! You never mentioned it."
He said, "My God, just old age, and I must be getting senile—just seeing these Gandhi caps day and night…even in dreams I see people with Gandhi caps! Even in my dreams I don't see people without Gandhi caps, so just forgive me."
This man, a simple man, a loving man who had known all the great thinkers of this century in India, leaders in different professions, but he could feel immediately some synchronicity, as if the parts of a jigsaw-puzzle had all fallen together in one piece and the puzzle had disappeared. He had lived with Mahatma Gandhi for twenty, thirty years and it had not happened.
There are people who can speak beautifully about the unknown, but if you are a little alert you can see that their words are empty and they don't touch your heart, they don't stir your being.
And there are mystics who are complete, whose journey has come to an end. upan13

Gwalior's palace is a very big palace, and has acres and acres of greenery around it, and small bungalows, and it is all in a walled garden. Almost half of the city belongs to the palace. And just behind the palace is a huge mountain where they run a school for all the princes of the country and even outside the country. That school belongs to the palace. It was created just for Gwalior's sons and daughters in the beginning. Then it became a royal school for all the royal states of India. celebr06

I was staying in the palace of the Maharani of Gwalior, who had invited me. It is one of the most beautiful palaces in India and perhaps in the world, with miles and miles of beautiful gardens around it. It has everything: lakes, gardens, fountains, and many small cottages for guests. The main palace is all marble. She had chosen a very beautiful cottage for me to stay in, just half on the lake, half on the ground.
Every day, for seven days, they were having religious discourses. There was a big congregation because it was a palatial function; nearabout twenty thousand people were there. Her son heard me and was immensely impressed. She was also impressed, and the next morning she came to see me and she would not sit on the chair. I told her, "You are old." She said, "No, I cannot do that. Please don't stop me sitting at your feet. And first I have to confess one thing: that I have prevented my son from coming to you. Forgive me. I was afraid because he seemed too much excited by last night, and he is continuously talking about you and what you said.
"I became afraid he may get too impressed by you. And we are a traditional family, royal family, and he is my successor. I cannot allow him to be impressed by you, although I myself am impressed, but I am mature enough that I can intellectually be convinced by you, yet I will go on doing whatever I was doing. That has been our tradition, and I cannot betray that tradition."
I said, "You can betray your intelligence, and you cannot betray some dead ancestor thousands of years old who has made rules and regulations for you? But you are ready to betray your intelligence…. And you say you are impressed, and still you prevent your son from meeting me?"
She said, "I am sorry, but I will not allow him. And he cannot go against my wishes because he knows I can deprive him of the inheritance and the inheritance can go to his younger brother."
With this threat he had been prevented. Later on, after five, six years, he met me in Delhi—he had become a member of parliament—and he said, "I have been trying hard since you stayed in my house, but my mother—if she comes to know that I met you in Delhi, she has threatened that she will deprive me, and it is too much a risk. She is one of the richest queens in India, and I will have to wait till I succeed her, and then my first thing is to come to you and be with you. All sorts of nonsense has been told to me; all kinds of religious teachers and saints go on coming to the house, but you were the first man I became interested in. They are all boring, but I have to listen to them because of the inheritance."
I said, "You are also a coward. If you had really the mind of a seeker, you would have said to your mother, 'Keep your inheritance yourself. I renounce it.'"
He said, "Yes, I don't have that much guts, but it has left a wound in me that my mother is threatening me. And she is also impressed by you. She does not say that you are wrong, she says that a young person should not come in contact with such a person: 'He can be dangerous. You are immature. You first become mature.'"
I said, "So that you can become a hypocrite, in other words; so you can intellectually say it is right, but I am going to do what I am expected to do." last214

One man was asking me—I was in Calcutta, and he was one of the richest men of India, Sahu Shanti Prasad; he had the greatest palace in Calcutta. We were walking in his big garden…because he has, in the middle of Calcutta, at least a hundred acre green garden. The palace once used to belong to the viceroy of India, when Calcutta was the capital. When the capital shifted to New Delhi, the palace was sold. Now the president of India lives in the same kind of palace in New Delhi, with a one hundred acre garden.
So we both were walking and he asked me, "I always wanted to ask you what happens after death."
I said, "Are you alive or not?"
He said, "What kind of question is this? I am alive."
I said, "You are alive. Do you know what life is?"
He said, "That I cannot answer. Honestly, I don't know."
I said, "When you are alive, even then you don't know what life is. How can you know death when you are not dead yet? So wait. While you are alive, try to know life; and soon you will be dead, then in your grave contemplate about death. Nobody will be bothering you. But why are you concerned what happens after death? Why are you not concerned what happens before death? That should be the real concern. When death comes we will face it, we will see it, we will see what it is. I am not dead so how can I say? You will have to ask somebody who is dead what happens. I am alive. I can tell you what life is, and I can tell you how to know what life is."
"But," he said, "all the religious teachers I go to listen to talk about death; nobody talks about life."
They are not interested in life, in fact; they want you all not to be interested in life. Their business depends on your interest in death. And about death, the most beautiful thing is that you can create any kind of fiction and nobody can argue against it. Neither you can prove it, nor can anybody disprove it. And if you are a believer, then of course all your scriptures are in support of the priest, the monk, the rabbi, and he can quote those scriptures.
I would like you to remember: Live, and try to know what life is. unconc29

The Nizam of Hyderabad in India had five hundred wives—just in this century. This is so stupid and ugly. Women are treated like cattle.
And that Nizam of Hyderabad was an old man, but he went on marrying young girls. Perhaps he was the richest man in the world, because in his state is the biggest mine of diamonds. All great diamonds have come from Hyderabad—the Kohinoor and others. He himself had so many diamonds that once a year they had to be put into sunlight and given air. They were not counted because counting was impossible, he had so many.
His whole palace had basements which were filled with diamonds, and they would be taken out and spread on all the terraces of his temple. I have seen the terraces; the palace is one of the biggest palaces in India. He had all the money, he had all the power. He was old, but he could purchase any woman. He could give enough money to any man and purchase his daughter. I don't think he even remembered the names of his five hundred wives, and I don't think that all the wives had seen him. Perhaps the early ones may have seen him.
And he was not worth seeing anyway, an ugly man, and so superstitious that you will not believe it—in the night he used to put one of his feet in a bucket full of salt, the whole night. The reason was that he was very much afraid of ghosts. And Mohammedans believe that if one of your feet is in salt, ghosts don't come close to you.
When I went there he was dead, but I asked his son, "Have you put the bucket in his grave?—because ghosts in the palace are not many, but in the graveyard there are ghosts and ghosts and nobody else, and in the dark night that old man…. "
The son said, "You are right! We forgot completely about the bucket of salt."
I said, "It is not too late." Mohammedans don't make marble graves or anything, just mud graves—to show humbleness. So I said, "Just arrange with the gravedigger to put one of his feet into a bucket of salt."
He said, "I will do it. I myself sleep with a bucket because ghosts are very dangerous; and certainly in the graveyard there are only ghosts and nobody else." transm32

I know many famous hunters in India. The king of Bhavanagar in his palace has hundreds of lions' heads hanging all around the walls. I have been with him when he went hunting. He said, "But why are you interested? You are not for violence, you are against hunting."
I said, "I simply want to see how, with your powerful automatic rifle, you face a lion who has no weapons." And it was significant that I went because there I saw that even with guns man is so powerless.
First a stage was made up high in the trees—and you have the gun! A stage is made for the king and for the friends who had come with him, far away. The lion cannot climb up the tree that far. Then all the branches of the tree below the platform were cut, so even if some crazy lion tries, he has no support anywhere. Then a cow was tied underneath the tree.
I was seeing the whole scene; silently I watched the whole scene. Of course when the lion smells that a cow is nearby, he comes; that cow is an invitation card. And the poor lion cannot see that far above in the darkness there is platform, and his death.
But they don't shoot the lion before he jumps on the cow and starts eating her. They wait, because when a lion is eating he does not want to be disturbed by anything, he is total in his act. The cow could have been saved. I said to the king, "The cow could have been saved. When the lion was coming closer, you could have used your rifle."
He said, "You don't know hunting. Even sitting on this platform I am shivering with fear, although I have killed hundreds of lions. Just to see the lion is enough to freeze you!"
And lions are very agile people. If you hit the lion—and you can miss, then you lose the game—the lion will jump into a bush, into a trench. He has to start eating the cow, because that is the habit of lions: while they are eating they don't want to be disturbed. And they become so absorbed in eating that it is easier for you to kill them.
I asked the king on the way, "If this is how you have collected those hundreds of heads of lions, please remove them—they are all proofs of your cowardliness. Have you ever thought," I asked him, "that you call hunting a game, when the other party has no weapons and is not even aware of you, that you are hiding above in the trees? You call it a game? Is it fair?
"You should be on the ground; you should be without a gun, because the lions cannot use guns. Then even a single head would have been enough to prove that you are a brave man. These hundreds of heads, they don't prove anything except cowardice. If this is the way you have collected them—that's why I wanted to come with you to see…. " dless23

One of my friends was a colonel in the army, and his wife was my student in the university. She introduced me to the colonel, and after Jabalpur, where I was a teacher, they were transferred to Poona, so I used to come here and always used to have at least one meal in their house.
The colonel was very much influenced by me, and he had a big regiment in Jabalpur, so he invited me one day.
His wife said, "Do you understand what you are doing?"
He said, "He is a nice fellow."
The wife said, "That's true, he is a nice fellow, but he will teach disobedience to your regiment."
He said, "Are you going to teach my regiment disobedience?"
I said, "Certainly!"
He said, "Then the program is canceled. My God! If my wife had not told me…"
I said, "I want to teach all the armies of the world disobedience. If they disobey, then let the presidents and prime ministers have wrestling matches, boxing matches. They can enjoy, and we will enjoy on television—but there is no need for millions of people to be killed continuously." christ04

I used to stay in the house of a very unique man, Sohanlal Dugar. He was unique in many ways. I loved the man—he was very colorful. He was old—he died seven years ago. When he met me first, at that time he was seventy years old, but he lived to ninety.
He met me in Jaipur, that was his home town, and he invited me to Calcutta because that was his business place; from there he controlled the whole silver market, not only of India but of the whole of Asia. He was called the Silver King. I had heard about him, but I had no idea who the person was. When he came to me for the first time in Jaipur, he touched my feet—an old man dressed in the Rajasthani way with a yellow turban, very ancient-looking in every way—and took out bundles of notes from the pockets of his coat and wanted to give them to me.
I said, "But right now I don't need them. You just give me your address; whenever I need I will enquire and if you are still in possession of wealth and in the mood to give, you can give. But right now I don't have any need, so why unnecessarily give me trouble? I am going now to travel for thirty-six hours, and I will have to take care of these notes. I cannot even sleep, anybody may take them. So please keep them." He just started crying, tears pouring from his eyes. I said, "But I have not said anything that hurts you so much."
He said, "Nothing else hurts me more. I am a poor man because I have only money and nothing else. I want to do something for you—l feel so much for you—but I am a poor man; except money, I have nothing. And if you refuse my money, then you refuse me because I don't have anything else. So you take this money. If you want to burn it, burn it here right now. If you want to throw it away, throw it away right now—that is your business. But remember: never again refuse money from me, because that means you are refusing me. And I have nothing else to offer." His tears were so sincere and authentic, and what he said was so meaningful, that I said, "Okay. You give me this money, and take out…you have more in your pockets."
He said, "That's right. That's the man I have been in search of." And he took it all out. He showed me his pockets, inside out, and said, "Now, right now, I don't have anything else, but this is the man I have been in search of!" And he invited me to Calcutta. ignor02

I used to stay with a very rich man in Calcutta, Sohanlal Dugar. He was an all-India fame, rich man, and he was always sad. His wife told me, "He listens to you, he reads to you, you stay with us but he is always sad. And sad for strange reasons that I cannot understand."
Sohanlal said, "You will never understand. I have lost five crore rupees and you want me to laugh?"
I said, "If that is the situation, then let him be sad."
But the wife said, "You don't understand the full situation. In a deal in which he has not invested a single rupee, he was hoping to get ten crores and he has got only five crores. So he is sulking for those five crores that he has lost."
I said, "This is idiotic." But this is how human mind functions. Just in his imagination he has ten crores, now he has got only five crores, five crores are missing.
But it is really amazing to watch people's minds: how they work and how they make themselves miserable and they go on weaving their misery deeper and deeper and more complex and more complex, to a point from where they cannot get out. And it is all their imagination. last509

One of the richest men in India told me that he feels very guilty. The country is dying in poverty and his riches go on growing. And he is not courageous enough to stop this growing of riches; deep down he still wants more. On the one hand he can see the country is suffering from poverty, on the other hand is his desire to have more and more; between these two he is crushed. nansen08

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