IF YOU MEET THE BUDDHA ON THE ROAD
P. Raja
Books are
living things. Unlike man, they know their destinations. Either they find their way or wait for the
opportunity. They know where they would
be liked, loved, treasured and above all read.
Yet some lose their way and find themselves in trucks along with
newspaper waste ignorant of their destination.
They would scream in pain and shed tears if it is brought to their
notice that the truck is bound for a fireworks factory, where they would go
into the making of crackers only be blown to pieces during the festival of
lights.
During one
of my recent visits to the godown of a wastepaper merchant, I came across
hundreds of monthly pocket novels in regional languages printed in cowdung
paper (cheap newsprint) all bundled up.
As I watched sympathetically the plight of such books when they were
hauled up the truck, an odd little book attracted my attention. With much persuasion from my side, and with
much difficulty from the merchant’s side, the book reached my hands, and gasped
for air. Too stuffy in the bundle? Or
was it because the coir had dug deep welts into the book?
Even now I
do not know what actually pushed me to rescue the book from its impending
disaster. Was it because the book was
naked? Yes, it had no jacket cover, the
stitches at the spine were showing up and the paper was quite brittle. Well! In spite of all its disqualifications
to enter my treasure house of knowledge, it managed its way into my study for
it had an attractive title: If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him.
Rarely
have I come across such an enticing title before, either in public libraries or
in private collections. And I am sure I
don’t have one such title in all the twenty four bookcases of different sizes
neatly arranged in my study. I can’t
quite say whether the author Sheldon B.Kopp himself had given such an alluring
title to his book, or was it the suggestion of his editor, or was it the
brainchild of his publisher. But
whoever had done it, my hats off to him.
The title of the book gave me pre-conceived ideas about the book, as it
would to any reader. But as I went
through, or rather pilgrimaged through its pages, I was in for a revelation.
The book
seems to me an explicated version of the words of the sage, Sri Aurobindo:
“Nothing can be taught.” Swami
Vivekananda had said the same in one of his addresses to students, but in
different words. “Do you think the teachers are teaching? No! They are simply
kindling the slumbering knowledge in you.”
And this book is bent on telling its readers: “A grown-up can be no
man’s disciple”. This book unravels to
us a deep hidden secret. And the secret
is that there is no secret. “Everything
is,” writes the author, ‘just what is seems to be. This is it! There are no
hidden meanings.”
Well! What
then is enlightenment? It is simply this: “There is nothing to read between the
lines. And the best way to see the
truth is the Zen way i.e., through our everyday eyes. When the Zen master warns: “If you meet the Buddha on the road,
kill him!” he only points out that no meaning that comes from outside of
ourselves is real. “The Buddhahood of
each of us has already been obtained.
We need only recognize it.
Philosophy, religion, patriotism, all are empty idols. The only meaning
in our lives is what we each bring to them.
Killing the Buddha on the road means destroying the hope that anything
outside of us can be our master. No one
is any bigger than anyone else is.
There are no mothers or fathers for grown-ups, only sisters and
brothers.”
While we admit that there is nothing to
be taught, we don’t agree that there is nothing to be learned. If no one is really any bigger than anyone
else is, to whom then can one turn? The
answer is, to put it in the words of the author Sheldon B. Kopp,
psychotherapist and teacher of psychotherapy: “Once a patient realizes that he
has no disease, and so can never be cured, he might as well terminate his
treatment. He may have been put in touch with good things in himself, and may
even still be benefiting from the relationship with the therapist, but once he
realizes that he can continue as a disciple in psychotherapy forever, only then
can he see the absurdity of remaining a patient, only then does he feel free to
leave.” And the solution he offers is
“We must each give up the master, without giving up the search.”
A monk once asked his guru:
“What is the meaning of the First Patriarch’s coming from the West? The guru
replied: “Ask the post over there.”
Taken aback the monk said: “I do not understand you,” to which the guru
replied: “I do not either, anymore than you.”
Each man shares the plight of the monk who realizes “Each of us is
ultimately alone”. Once this realisation comes to the seeker, he will have no
further difficulty. He will start on
his pilgrimage – the voyage within, for his self-discovery. Yes! “The only
victory lies is surrender to oneself….All of the significant battles are waged
within the self.”
Courtesy:
‘Sri Aurobindo’s Action’