One
of the great Sufi Masters, Junaid, was asked when he was dying. His
chief disciple came close to him and asked, "Master, beloved Master, you
are leaving us. One question has always been in our minds, but we could
never gather courage enough to ask you. And now that you are leaving
there will be no more opportunity to ask, so all the disciples have
forced me to come to you and ask. Who was your Master? This has been always a great curiosity amongst your disciples because we have never heard you talk about your Master."
Junaid opened his eyes and said, "It will be very difficult for me to
answer because I have learned from almost everybody. The whole existence
has been my Master. I have learned from every event that has happened
in my life and I am grateful to all that has happened, because out of
all that learning I have arrived. But I had not any single Master. I was
not so fortunate as you are," Junaid said to them. "You have a Master."
I can understand Junaid because this has been the case with me too. I
never had any Master; you are far more fortunate. I had to learn the
hard way: from every experience, from every event, from every person I
came across. But it has been an immensely rich journey.
Junaid
said, "Just to satisfy your curiosity I will give you three instances.
One: I was very thirsty and I was going towards the river carrying my
begging bowl, the only possession I had. When I reached the river a dog
rushed, jumped into the river, and started drinking.
"I watched
for a moment and threw away my begging bowl, because it is useless - a
dog can do without it. I also jumped into the river, drank as much water
as I wanted. My whole body was cool because I had jumped into the
river, sat in the river for a few moments, thanked the dog, and touched
his feet with deep reverence, because he has taught me a lesson. I had
dropped everything, all possessions, but there was a certain clinging to
my begging bowl. It was a beautiful bowl, very beautifully carved,
inlaid with gold. It was presented to me by a king and I was always
aware that somebody may steal it. Even in the night I used to put it
under my head as a pillow so nobody can snatch it away. That was my last
clinging - the dog helped. It was so clear: if a dog can manage without
a begging bowl, I am a man, why can't I manage? That dog was one of my
Masters.
"Secondly," he said, "I lost my way in a forest and by
the time I reached the village, the nearest village that I could find,
it was midnight. Everybody was fast asleep. I wandered all over the town
to see if I could find somebody awake to give me shelter for the night.
I could only find a thief who was searching to find some house to
enter.
"I asked the thief, 'It seems only two persons are awake in the town, you and I. Can you give me shelter for the night?'
"The thief said, 'I can see from your gown that you are a Sufi monk....' "
The word "Sufi" comes from suf; suf means wool, a woolen garment. The
Sufis have used the woolen garment for centuries; hence they are called
Sufis because of their garment. Just as you are called in the world "the
orange people," they are called the Sufis.
The thief said, "I
can see you are a Sufi and I feel a little embarrassed to take you to my
home. I am perfectly willing, but I must tell you who I am. I am a
thief. Would you like to be a guest of a thief?"
For a moment
Junaid hesitated. The thief said, "Look, it is better I told you. You
seem hesitant. The thief is willing, but the mystic seems to be hesitant
to enter into the house of a thief, as if the mystic is weaker than the
thief. I am not afraid of you. In fact, I should be afraid of you - you
may change me, you may transform my whole life! Inviting you means
danger, but I am not afraid. You are welcome. Come to my home. Eat,
drink, go to sleep, and stay as long as you want, because I live alone
and my earning is enough. I can manage for two persons. And it will be
really beautiful to chit-chat with you of great things. But you seem to
be hesitant."
And Junaid became aware that that was true. He
asked to be excused. He touched the feet of the thief and he said, "Yes,
my rootedness in my own being is yet very weak. You are really a strong
man and I would like to come to your home. And I would like to stay a
little longer, not only for this night. I want to be stronger myself!"
The thief said, "Come on!" He fed the Sufi, gave him something to
drink, helped him to go to sleep, and he said, "Now I will go. I have to
do my own thing. I will come early in the morning." Early in the
morning the thief came back.
Junaid asked, "Have you been successful?"
The thief said, "No, not today, but I will see tomorrow."
And this happened continuously for thirty days; every night the thief
went and every morning he came back, but he was never sad, never
frustrated, no sign of failure on his face, always happy, and he would
say, "It doesn't matter.
I tried my best. I could not find
anything today again, but tomorrow I will try. And, God willing, it can
happen tomorrow if it has not happened today."
After one month
Junaid left, and for years he tried to realize the ultimate, but it was
always failure. But each time he decided to drop the whole project he
was reminded of the thief, his smiling face and his saying "God willing,
what has not happened today may happen tomorrow."
And finally
when he achieved the ultimate, Junaid said, "I remembered the thief as
one of my greatest Masters. Without him I would not be what I am.
"And third," he said, "I entered into a small village. A little boy was
carrying a candle, a lit candle, obviously going to the small temple of
the town to put the candle there for the night.
And Junaid
asked, "Can you tell me from where the light comes? You have lighted the
candle yourself so you must have seen. From where does the light come?
What is the source of light?"
The boy laughed and he said,
"Wait!" And he blew out the candle in front of Junaid. And he said, "You
have seen light gone. Can you ten me where it has gone? If you can tell
me where it has gone I will tell you from where it has come, because it
has gone to the same place. It has returned to the source."
And Junaid said, "I had met great philosophers, but nobody had made such
a beautiful statement: 'It has gone to its very source.' Everything
returns to its source finally.
"And secondly, the child made me
aware of my own ignorance. I was trying to joke with the child, but the
joke was on me. He showed to me that asking foolish questions: 'From
where has the light come?' is not intelligent. It comes from nowhere,
from nothingness, and goes back to nowhere, to nothingness."
Junaid said, "I touched the feet of the child. The child was puzzled. He
said, 'Why you are touching my feet?' And I told him, 'You are my
Master - you have shown me something. You have given me a great lesson, a
great insight.
"Since that time," Junaid said, "I have been
meditating on nothingness, and slowly I have entered into nothingness.
And now the final moment has come when the candle will go out, the light
will go out. And I know where I am going - to the same source.
"I remember that child with gratefulness. I can still see him standing before me blowing out the candle."
And Junaid asked, "Can you tell me from where the light comes? You have
lighted the candle yourself so you must have seen. From where does the
light come? What is the source of light?"
The boy laughed and
he said, "Wait!" And he blew out the candle in front of Junaid. And he
said, "You have seen light gone. Can you ten me where it has gone? If
you can tell me where it has gone I will tell you from where it has
come, because it has gone to the same place. It has returned to the
source."
And Junaid said, "I had met great philosophers, but
nobody had made such a beautiful statement: 'It has gone to its very
source.' Everything returns to its source finally. - Story by OSHO
