I AM BORN BRITISH AND SO IS MY FRIEND! ANY HOPE?
Vivek,
NOBODY IS BORN BRITISH. It is a disease that happens later on. We learn it; it is not
innate. Just like nobody is born German or Indian. These are structures that are imposed
on us later on, after the birth. These are social ways of enslaving your psyche, your being.
Every society imposes certain forms, rules, regulations. Every society gives you a shape,
a form, a face, a facade.
Nobody is British and nobody is German and nobody is Indian. Hence these structures
can be dropped, one can slip out of them.
The only thing needed is awareness. We are so unaware that we become one with the
structure, identified with it. We start thinking that we ARE it. And that's where the
disease becomes a permanent phenomenon; it becomes chronic. Otherwise, one can slip
out of being British or Hindu or Mohammedan or communist as easily as the snake gets
out of its old skin and never looks back.
Secondly: not all Britishers are British, not all Germans are Germans, not all Indians are
Indians. You can find a few Indians here -- my sannyasins or my would-be sannyasins;
they are not Indians. They have slipped out of the Indian prison. Now, there are so many
Germans here, and when I go on telling jokes against Germans they laugh as relaxedly as
you laugh. They don't feel hurt.
When I said something against the British, the Britishers were those who were most
happy. They were happy because they must be feeling jealous of the Germans! I go on
hitting the Germans so much! I have a certain soft corner for Haridas, Govinddas,
etcetera -- I go on hitting them! And the Britishers must be feeling a little lost, lagging
behind!
My sannyasins belong to no race, to no country, to no religion. That's what my sannyas is
all about: getting out of all kinds of prisons, becoming simply human; declaring one's
universality, declaring that "The whole earth belongs to us."
As sannyasins grow slowly slowly into millions, we are going to create trouble. When I
have got enough sannyasins I will tell you, "Now you can burn your passports and move
freely from one country to another -- because freedom of movement is a birthright."
This is so ugly, that you cannot move from one country to another country easily; they
create so many barriers. When you pass the boundary of one country to another you
immediately become aware that you have been in a prison and you are entering into
another prison. The prison is big, so when you are inside you don't know about it.
The person who has never left India will not be aware that he is living in a big prison, but
when you leave the country then you know how difficult it is: how you are tortured for
hours, how many papers you have to fill in, how many things you have to do before you
can get over the border. Then you know that this is a prison. And you have to do the same
thing in the other country. These countries are big prisons.
The hope is that when there are millions of sannyasins, and we have created enough
orange energy in the world, we will break all these barriers.
But remember always: not all Germans are Germans, not all Britishers are British, not all
Indians are Indian. That is the only hope. There are a few who ARE in the prison but not
part of it -- it is just an accident that they are born in India, an accident that they are born
in England; otherwise they are free souls. They are the real hope for humanity, the real
hope for the future.
This English sportsman had been abroad and returned to his home without notice. While
walking through the corridor with his butler, he looked into his bedroom and discovered
his wife making love to a strange man.
"Fetch my rifle at once!" he instructed his butler.
In a matter of minutes his rifle was brought to him. Raising it and taking aim, he was
tapped on the shoulder by the butler who whispered, "If I may say so, sir, remember you
are a true sportsman. Get him on the rise!"
Now the butler is not British, not at all! -- has more sense of humor.
Two Englishmen were coming home late at night from a poker party. One said, "I am
always afraid when I return home late from a party like this. I shut off the engine of my
car a half a block from home and coast into the garage. I take off my shoes and sneak into
the house. I am as quiet as possible, but invariably, about the time I settle down into bed,
my wife sits up and starts to berate me."
The other man said, "You just have the wrong technique. I never have any trouble. I
barge into the garage, slam the door, stomp into the house and make a hell of a racket.
Then I go upstairs to the bedroom, pat my wife and say, 'How about it, kid?' She always
pretends she is asleep."
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