1951 Osho leaves school, and decides to study philosophy

When I passed my matriculation exams, my whole family was in a great turmoil, because they all wanted…somebody wanted me to be a doctor, somebody wanted me to be a scientist, somebody wanted me to be an engineer-because in India these are respectable jobs, paying jobs. You become rich, you become well-known, you are honored. But I said, "I am going to study philosophy."

They all said, "This is nonsense! No man of sense will go and study philosophy. What will you do after that? Six years wasted in the university studying things which are of no use. They don't have any value, you will not even get a small service, a small job."
And they were right. In India, if you apply for the smallest job, like a clerk in the post office which needs only matriculation as qualification, and you have a master's degree in philosophy, you top the university, you have a gold medal-you will be refused. Only because of these things! These are disqualifications, you are a difficult person! A clerk should not be a philosopher; otherwise there are bound to be difficulties.
So they said, "You will suffer your whole life. Think it over."

I said, "I never think, you know that. I simply see. And there is no question of choice, I know what I am going to study. It is not a question of weighing which job will be more profitable. Even if I become a beggar, I am going to study philosophy."
They were at a loss. They all asked me, "But what is the reason that you want to study philosophy?"

I said, "The reason is that my whole life I am going to fight against philosophers. I have to know everything about them."

They said, "My God! This is your idea? We have never imagined that a man should study philosophy because he is going to fight philosophers his whole life." But they knew that I am crazy. They said, "Something like this was expected." Still they persisted: "There is time, you can still think about it. The universities will be opening in one month; you can still think."

I said, "One month, one year, one life makes no difference, because I don't have any choice. It is my choiceless responsibility."

One of my uncles, who was a graduate from the university, said, "It is absolutely impossible to talk with him-he uses words which don't seem to carry any meaning. Choicelessness…responsibility…awareness-what do these things have to do with life? You will need money, you will need a house, you will need to support a family…. "
I said, "I am not going to have a family. I am not going to have a house and I am not going to support anybody!" And I have not supported anybody and I have not made any house. I am the poorest man in the world!

They could not manage to force me to become a doctor, engineer, scientist, but they all were angry. misery05

One of my uncles is a poet, but the whole family was against him; they destroyed him. They did not allow him…they withdrew him from the university because they saw that if he passed from the university then all he was going to do was write poetry. But if he had no certificates, then he had no way to escape anywhere; he had to sit in the shop.
And I have seen him-when I was small, I saw him sitting in the shop. And if there was nobody else, only I was there…he knew that I never disturb anybody's business. You just have to be aware not to be disturb my business; then it is a contract. And it was a contract between me and him that he should never interrupt anything, whatsoever it was.

He said, "Okay, but don't you report anything about me."

I said, "I am not concerned."

What he used to do-a customer would come and he would simply wave his hand as if the customer where a beggar: "Just go!" He would not speak because somebody might hear, so he would just make a gesture with his hands: "Move on!" My father, my grandfather, they were all puzzled: "Whenever you sit here, no customer comes in."
He said, "What can I do? I can sit here but if nobody comes it is not my fault."
He was not interested in business at all; while sitting in the shop he was writing poetry. But soon they arranged his marriage. And I went on telling him, "You are getting trapped. First, why did you come back from the university? Don't you have any guts? You could have done anything-pulled a rickshaw, been a coolie at the railway station. You could have done anything."

I told him, "Your poetry is just lousy. They stopped sending money to you so you are back; now they are arranging your marriage and you don't know that that is the end of your poetry. At least right now you can shoo away the customers and go on writing a little bit. You will not be able to do that when your wife is here."

He said, "But my wife will be in the house, and I will be in the shop."

I said, "You just wait…because I see what happens to my father. My mother only sees him when he is there for his lunch or his supper. He simply goes on eating, his eyes down, and she goes on hammering him about all kinds of things….

So I told my uncle, "You don't know your father but he is my friend and I know the whole trap, what is going on-the whole conspiracy. But I have also a pact with my grandfather that I will not reveal any rumors in the house. But this is something serious; they are going to trap you. They have just found a really beautiful woman for you, there is no doubt about it"…because my grandfather had taken me to choose her. He said, "I have become too old, and you are so sharp. Find out whether this girl will do or not." And he had found really a beautiful girl.

So I said, "He has found a beautiful girl but the reason why he is trying to find a beautiful girl is so that you forget all your poetry." And that's what happened. Once he got married then most of his time he was with his wife or he was in the shop-and slowly slowly his poetry started disappearing. And his wife started dominating him for the simple reason that she felt guilty because everybody in the house, children included, knew that "your husband is just a do-nothing, useless, just a wastage."

So she was nagging my uncle, "You forget about all poetry." She burned the copies of his poetry, his years' work, and she told him, "No more poetry for you-because I feel ashamed, everybody laughs at me." They destroyed his poetry.

I asked my father, "Why are all you people against my poor uncle? He is not doing any harm. Poetry is not harmful, it is not violent. He is not writing war songs or anything like that; he writes beautiful love poetry. Why are you against him?"

They said, "We are not against him; all that we want is that he should stand on his feet. Now he is married, tomorrow he will have children; who is going to feed them continually?" And that's what happened. Now he has a shop and now he no more moves people on. His children are married; they have children. The last time I went, in 1970, I asked him, "What about the customers?"

He said, "There is nothing about the customers-all my poetry is gone. And you were right that my wife would be real trouble. Neither my grandfather, nor your father, nor my other brother-nobody was such a trouble. But my wife continually nagging…finally I had to decide. Either I have to become a monk renounce the world-but that too is difficult: a Jaina monk cannot write poetry because poetry belongs to ordinary people. And poetry is something basically connected with the affair of love, so what can a monk write?"
I said, "You can write sutras, religious bhajans devoted to some god-songs, devotional songs."
He said, "But I am not interested in any god, in any devotion. I want to write what I feel in my heart."
I said, "That is finished-your heart is married!" And in India at that time divorce was not legal either. And even though now it is legal it rarely happens, and only in Bombay, Calcutta, Madras, New Delhi-nowhere else. They destroyed his poetry to keep him tethered to the lowest part of his being.

All the painters, all the poets, all the musicians have faced a world which is against them. Why?-because what they are doing is something which has no relationship with the whole world and its life. The love they are talking about is not the love that people are living. misery05

My parents wanted me to become an engineer or a doctor. I simply refused. I said, "I am going to study philosophy because I have to fight philosophers all my life."
They said, "What nonsense. If you want to fight philosophers why should you waste six years in studying philosophy?"

I said, "Without studying philosophy I cannot fight rightly. I have to study philosophy. I enjoy the way philosophy argues, and I want to go into the very deepest arguments all the philosophies have produced. But I am going to fight against it, because my experience is that not a single philosopher has ever become enlightened. They were just playing with words, gymnastics of logic; they never reached above their minds. They did a great job with their minds, but they remained minds."

My parents threatened me, "If you choose philosophy then remember we are not going to support you financially."

I said, "That you need not say. I was not going to accept it anyway, because when I choose my subject then I will find my way. I am not choosing your subject; naturally you are out of the question. Why should I ask your financial support? Even if you give it, I will reject it."

They were shocked. They could not believe how I would manage-but I managed. In the night I was editing a newspaper, and in the morning I was going to the college. And in between, whenever I could find time, I would go to sleep.

Finally they started feeling guilty. My father went on writing to me, "Forgive us and accept."

I went on returning their money orders, and one day he himself came and he said, "Can't you forget, can't you forgive?"

I said, "I can forgive but I cannot forget, because you were forcing me into something just because of finances, just because of money"-money was more important to them. "You thought more of money than you thought of me, and you threatened me. I had not asked for money. You can keep your money. I am managing perfectly well." socrat12
And when I became a wandering teacher around the country, doing the job for which I had studied logic and philosophy because I wanted to be perfectly acquainted with the enemy, soon there was not a single man who was ready to accept my challenge. Then my family started feeling guilty, feeling that it was good that they were not able to make me a doctor, engineer, scientist. I had proved that they were wrong.
They started asking me, "Forgive us."

I said, "There is no problem, because I never took all your advice seriously. I never bothered! Whatever I was going to do, I was going to do in spite of everything going against me! So don't feel guilty. I have never taken your advice seriously; I was hearing you, but not listening. I had a decision in me, a decisiveness."
The process is very simple.

Meditate, become more aware and then you will see: choices disappear, a choicelessness arises.

And it is such a tremendous joy to have a choiceless spontaneity. It is such a freedom. Choice is such a burden. dless27