He asked Nagarjuna, “Can you help me? Can I get rid of my stealing? Can I also become as silent and blissful as you are?” It happened in a certain context.

Nagarjuna was the greatest alchemist that the East has given birth to. He used to live naked, with just a begging bowl, a wooden begging bowl, but kings worshiped him, queens worshiped him.

He came to the capital and the queen touched his feet and said, “I feel very much offended by your wooden bowl. You are a master of masters; hundreds of kings and queens are your followers. I have prepared a golden bowl for you, studded with beautiful diamonds, emeralds. Please don’t reject it — it will wound me very much, it will hurt me very much. For three years great artists have been working on it, now it is ready.”

She was afraid that Nagarjuna might say, “I cannot touch gold, I have renounced the world.” But Nagarjuna did not say anything like that; he said, “Okay! You can keep my begging bowl, give me the golden one.”

Even the queen was a little shocked. She was thinking that Nagarjuna would say, “I cannot accept it.” She wanted him to accept it, but still, deep in her unconscious somewhere was the old

Indian tradition that the awakened one has to live in poverty, in discomfort, as if discomfort and poverty have something spiritual in them. There is nothing spiritual in them.

Nagarjuna said okay. He didn’t even look at the golden bowl. He went away. The thief saw Nagarjuna moving outside the capital, because he was staying in a ruined temple on the other bank of the river. The thief said, “Such a precious thing I have never seen — so many diamonds, so many emeralds, so much gold. I have seen many beautiful things in my life but never such a thing, and how did this naked man get hold of it, and how is he going to protect it? Anybody will be able to take it away from him, so why not me?”

The thief followed Nagarjuna. Nagarjuna heard his footsteps, he knew somebody was coming behind him.

Nagarjuna reached the temple. The temple was an absolute ruin, no roof, no doors; just a few walls were left. He went inside a room without a roof, without a door, without windows.

The thief said, “How is he going to protect such a precious thing? It is only a question of hours.” He sat outside the window, hiding behind a wall.

Nagarjuna threw the bowl outside the window. The thief was very much puzzled. The bowl fell just near his feet. He was puzzled: “What has this man done?” He could not believe his eyes, he was also shocked. He stood up — even though he was a thief, he was a master thief and he had some dignity. He thanked Nagarjuna. He said, “Sir, I have to show my gratitude. But you are a rare man — throwing out such a precious thing as if it is nothing. Can I come inside and touch your feet?”

Nagarjuna said, “Come in! In fact I have thrown the bowl out so that you could come in.”

The thief could not understand what he was saying; he came in, he looked at Nagarjuna — his silence, his peace, his bliss — he was overwhelmed. He said, “I feel jealous of you. I have never come across a man like you. Compared to you, all others are subhuman beings. How integrated you are! How gone beyond the world! Is there any possibility for me too one day to attain such integration, such individuality, such compassion and such nonattachment to things?”

Nagarjuna said, “It is possible. It is everybody’s potential.”

But the thief said, “Wait! Let me tell you one thing. I have been many times to many saints and they all know me and they say, ‘First you stop stealing, then anything else is possible. Without stopping stealing you cannot grow spiritually.’ So please don’t make that condition because that I cannot do. It is impossible. I have tried and I have failed many times. It seems that is my nature — I have to go on stealing, so don’t mention that. Let me tell you first so you don’t make it a condition.”

Nagarjuna said, “That simply shows you have never seen a saint before. Those must have all been ex-thieves; otherwise why should they be worried about your stealing? Go on stealing and do everything as skillfully as possible. It is good to be a master of any art.”

The thief was shocked even more: “What kind of man is this?” And he said, “Then what do you suggest? What is right, what is wrong?”

He said, “I don’t say anything is right or anything is wrong. Do one thing: if you want to steal, steal — but steal consciously. Go tonight, enter into the house very alert, open the doors, the locks, but very consciously. And then if you can steal, steal, but remain conscious. And report to me after seven days.”

After seven days the thief came, bowed down, touched Nagarjuna’s feet and said, “Now initiate me into sannyas.”

Nagarjuna said, “Why? What about your stealing?”

He said, “You are a cunning fellow! I tried my best: if I am conscious, I cannot steal; if I steal I am unconscious. I can steal only when I am unconscious. When I am conscious the whole thing seems so stupid, so meaningless. What am I doing? For what? Tomorrow I may die. And why do I go on accumulating wealth? I have more than I need; even for generations it is enough. It looks so meaningless that I stop immediately. For seven days I have entered into houses and come out empty-handed. And to be conscious is so beautiful. I have tasted it for the first time, and it is just a small taste — now I can conceive how much you must be enjoying, how much you must be celebrating. Now I know that you are the real king — naked, but you are the real king. Now I know that you have real gold and we are playing with false gold.”

The thief became a disciple of Nagarjuna and attained to buddhahood.

Osho: The Dhammapada – The Way of the Buddha

If you liked this story, you'll love this! We've compiled a list of the top spiritual stories that our readers love. You can read them here.

What Is the Spiritual Moral / Meaning of the “Nagarjuna and the Thief” Story?

At its core, this story isn't about the dichotomy of right and wrong, nor is it about the triumph of righteousness over wrongdoing. It delves deeper into the realms of human consciousness, inviting us to explore the intricate layers of awareness and the subtleties of perception.

In the journey of the thief seeking guidance from Nagarjuna, we witness a reflection of our own internal struggles. It's a portrayal of the human condition, where the dichotomy between our actions and our consciousness creates a profound inner conflict.

The master, Nagarjuna, embodies a profound wisdom—an understanding that surpasses conventional morality. He doesn't impose judgments or conditions but offers a path illuminated by consciousness. He doesn't condemn the thief's actions but encourages a conscious approach, inviting the thief to explore the depths of his own consciousness.

This story carries within it the essence of spiritual growth—a journey from unconsciousness to consciousness. It reveals that the true transformation lies not in the external acts but in the awakening of consciousness itself. The thief, driven by habitual unconsciousness, finds himself caught in a dilemma where his actions conflict with his newfound consciousness.

In the thief's journey, we witness the revelation of consciousness. As he attempts to steal consciously, he experiences a profound shift. Consciousness brings forth an awareness that renders his actions meaningless and absurd. In that moment of awakened awareness, he transcends the allure of material possessions, recognizing the futility of his pursuits.

The thief's realization is not merely an awakening but a transformation—a shedding of layers that shroud true understanding. He experiences a glimpse of the profound joy and freedom that consciousness brings—a joy far surpassing the lure of material wealth.

Ultimately, this story encapsulates the spiritual journey—a passage from darkness to light, from unconsciousness to consciousness. It doesn't merely advocate for the cessation of actions but emphasizes the transformative power of consciousness itself. It teaches us that true spiritual growth isn't about adhering to external norms but about delving into the depths of our own consciousness.

Nagarjuna doesn't condemn or judge the thief's actions but offers a doorway to self-realization—a realization that transcends the superficial constructs of right and wrong, leading to an awakening that liberates the soul.

The thief's transformation into a disciple and his attainment of buddhahood symbolize the ultimate triumph of consciousness over unconsciousness. It illustrates that the true treasure lies not in the accumulation of external wealth but in the richness of an awakened consciousness—an awareness that illuminates the path towards spiritual fulfillment and inner peace.

The post Nagarjuna and the Thief – A Zen Buddhist Spiritual Story by Osho appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

One night he was about to lie down to sleep among the ruins of an ancient monastery when he noticed a thief lurking behind one of the columns. “Here, take this,” said Nagarjuna, holding the begging bowl. “That way you won't disturb me once I have fallen asleep.”

The thief eagerly grabbed the bowl and made off — only to return the next morning with the bowl and a request:

“When you gave away this bowl so freely last night, you made me feel very poor. Teach me how to acquire the riches that make this kind of lighthearted detachment possible.”

This is from The Heart of the Enlightened, a book of spiritual stories by Anthony de Mello.

The post Nagarjuna and the Thief – A Zen Buddhist Spiritual Story by Anthony de Mello appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

Making a list is not easy , because the Indian sky is filled with so many stars! Who to cut, who to include?… Sumitranandan was a lovely man — extremely soft, extremely sweet — feminine. Even in old age a freshness remained on his face — just as it should remain — he had become more and more beautiful.

I began to read the expressions appearing and disappearing on his face: it was difficult for him too. Some names, which should naturally be included, were not there. Rama’s name was missing! He opened his eyes and said to me: “You have excluded Rama!”

I said: “If I am allowed to choose only twelve; many names will have to be cut. So I have chosen those twelve people who have made some original contribution. Rama has made no original contribution, Krishna has. This is why Hindus call Krishna a complete incarnation, but not Rama.”

He asked me further, “Next, could you give me seven names?” Now the question had become more difficult!

I gave him seven names: Krishna, Patanjali, Buddha, Mahavira, Shankara, Gorakh and Kabir.

He said: “The five you have deleted, on what basis did you drop them?”

I said: “Nagarjuna is contained in Buddha. That which was a seed in Buddha, manifested itself in Nagarjuna. Nagarjuna can be dropped when it is a question of saving, trees can be dropped, but not seeds, because seeds will again become trees. They will become new trees. When Buddha is born, hundreds of Nagarjunas will soon be born, but no Nagarjuna can give birth to Buddha. Buddha is the headwater of the Ganges. Nagarjuna is just a place of pilgrimage that appears along the course of the Ganges. Lovely, but if cutting is needed, then the place of pilgrimage can be dropped, not the source of the Ganges.

“Similarly Krishnamurti is included in Buddha. Krishnamurti is Buddha’s newest edition — the freshest; in today’s language. But the difference is only of language. Krishnamurti is just an elaboration of Buddha’s final sutra ‘appa dipo bhau’ — be a light unto yourself.’ A commentary on one sutra — deep, profound, tremendously vast, immensely significant! But he’s just a commentary on ‘Be a light unto yourself: appa dipo bhau’. These were Buddha’s last words on this earth. Before leaving his body, he had given this essential sutra… As if the treasure of his whole life, his whole life’s experience was concentrated into this small sutra.

“Ramakrishna can easily be included in Krishna.

“Meera and Nanak can be dissolved into Kabir. They are like branches of Kabir. As if half of what came together in Kabir has manifested in Nanak and half has manifested in Meera. In Nanak the male aspect of Kabir has manifested, so it is not surprising that Sikhism became a warrior’s religion, a religion of the soldier. In Meera, Kabir’s feminine aspect is manifested — hence his entire sweetness, his entire fragrance, his entire music resound from the bells on Meera’s ankles. The woman in Kabir has sung on the one string of Meera’s ektara. In Nanak the man in Kabir has spoken. Both are contained in Kabir.

“This is how” I said, “I made the list seven.”

Now his curiosity had become tremendously aroused. He said, “And if you had to make a list of five?”

I said, “Then it will be even more difficult for me.”

I gave him this list: Krishna, Patanjali, Buddha, Mahavira, Gorakh. … because Kabir is merged into Gorakh. Gorakh is the root. Gorakh cannot be left out. And Shankara easily merges into Krishna. He is the exposition of one part of Krishna, the philosophic interpretation of just one aspect of Krishna.

Then he said: “One more time… if only four are to be kept?”

Then I listed for him: Krishna, Patanjali, Buddha, Gorakh… because Mahavira is not very different from Buddha. Just a tiny difference and that too only a difference in expression. Mahavira’s greatness can be encompassed in the greatness of Buddha.

He started, saying: “Just one more time… please choose three persons.”

I said: “Now it is impossible. I can not drop any of these four.” Then I told him: “These four individualities are like the four directions. These four dimensions are like the four dimensions of time and space. These four arms are like the four armed conception of god. In fact there is only one, but that one has four arms. To leave out any one would be like cutting off an arm. I cannot do that. Until now I’ve been going along with you. I was continuing to decrease the number, because until now the one’s that had to be put aside were clothes. Now limbs would have to be broken, I cannot fracture limbs. Please don’t insist on such violence.”

He said: “Some questions have arisen, one is: you can drop Mahavira, but not Gorakh?”

Gorakh cannot be dropped, because Gorakh became a new beginning for this country. No new beginning came from Mahavira. He was a rare man; but for centuries the first twenty three Jaina tirthankaras had already said what he was saying. He was just their repetition. He is not the beginning of a new journey. He is not the first link in a new chain, rather the last link.

Gorakh is the first link of a chain. Through him a new type of religion was born. Without Gorakh, there could be no Kabir, no Nanak, no Dadu, no Vajid, no Farid, no Meera — without Gorakh none of these are possible. The basic root of all of them is in Gorakh. Since then the temple has been built high. On this temple many golden spires have been raised… but the foundation stone is the foundation stone. Though the golden spires may be seen from afar, they cannot be more important than the foundation stone. And the foundation is not visible to anyone, but on this very stone stands the whole structure, all the walls, all the high peaks… The peaks are worshipped. People simply forget about the foundation. Gorakh has been similarly forgotten.

But India’s whole ‘sant’ tradition — those innumerable devotees of love — is indebted to Gorakh. Just as without Patanjali there would be no possibility of yoga in India; as without Buddha the foundation stone of meditation would be uprooted; just as without Krishna the path of love would not find expression — similarly, without Gorakh the search that began for methods and techniques of sadhana, of spiritual practice to attain the ultimate truth would not have been possible. Gorakh made many discoveries within man for the inner search, more perhaps than anyone else has made. He has given so many methods, that in terms of methods Gorakh is the greatest inventor. He pushed open so many doors for going into man’s inner being, he created so many doors that people got caught in them. Hence we have one word that remains with us — people have forgotten Gorakh — but not the word Gorakh-dhandha, this word for maze remains. He gave so many methods, that people were confused, which method is right, which is wrong, which to do, which to drop? He gave so many methods that people became absolutely dumbfounded, hence the word Gorakh-dhandha, maze. Now if somebody is entangled in something, we say, “What Gorakhdhandha have you gotten into?”

Gorakh had a rare individuality, similar to Einstein. Einstein gave such penetrating methods for investigating the truth of the universe, as no one before him had given. Yes, now they can be further developed, now a finer edge can be put on them. But Einstein has done the primary work. Those who follow will be secondary. Now they cannot be first. The road was first broken by Einstein. Many will come who improve this road: ones who build it up, ones who place the milestones, ones who beautify it and make it comfortable. Many people will come, but no one can take Einstein’s place. In the inner world the same situation exists with Gorakh.

But why have people forgotten Gorakh? The milestones are remembered, the path breaker is forgotten. The ones who have decorated the path are remembered, the one who has first broken the path is forgotten. Forgotten because, those who come after have the leisure to dress it up. One who comes first, will be unpolished, unfinished. Gorakh is like a diamond just out of the mine. If Gorakh and Kabir are sitting together, you will be impressed by Kabir, not by Gorakh. Because Gorakh is a freshly mined diamond, but on Kabir the jewellers have worked hard, on him the chisel has worked hard, much polishing has been done.

Do you know that when the Kohinoor diamond was first discovered, the man who found it didn’t know it was a Kohinoor? He had given it to his children to play with, thinking it was a pretty colored stone. He was a poor man. He had found the Kohinoor in the waters of a small river flowing through his fields. For months it remained in his house, the children kept on playing with it, they kept throwing it from one corner to another, it remained in the courtyard… You wouldn’t have been able to recognize the Kohinoor. The Kohinoor’s original weight was three times as much as it is today. The edges were set, it was polished, cut, its facets were brought out. Today only one third of the weight remains, but the value has become millions of times greater. The weight became less, the value increased, because it kept being refined — more and more polished.

If Kabir and Gorakh are sitting together, perhaps you won’t even recognize Gorakh; because Gorakh is a diamond just removed from the Golconda mines. On Kabir much cutting has been done, the jewellers have worked hard… you will be able to recognize Kabir. Hence Gorakh has been forgotten. The foundation stones are forgotten.

You will be very surprised when you hear Gorakh’s words. A little finishing is needed; they are uncut. This sharpening of the edges is what I am doing here. You will be amazed as you begin to know him a little. Gorakh has said the most essential. He has said the most valuable.

So I told Sumitranandan Pant, “I cannot drop Gorakh — therefore the number cannot go below four.” Naturally he must have thought that I will leave out Gorakh and keep Mahavira. Mahavira is a Kohinoor, he’s no rough diamond just out of the mines. There is the whole tradition of twenty three tirthankaras, thousands of years, in which the finishing has been done, has been sharpened — has become shiny. Do you see? Mahavira is the twenty fourth tirthankara. People have forgotten the names of the remaining twenty three! Those who are not Jainas do not even know those twenty three names. And those who are Jainas cannot count out the twenty three in correct order, they will forget or omit someone. Mahavira is the last, the pinnacle of the temple. The spire of the temple is remembered. We still discuss him. Who discusses the foundation stone?

Today we begin the discussion of one such foundation stone. The whole palace of India’s sant literature stands on him. All is based on this one individual. He has said all that slowly slowly becomes very beautiful, a many colored splendor. Upon this base people will do sadhana and meditate for centuries. Who knows how many enlightened beings shall be born through him!

DIE, O YOGI, DIE!

What a wonderful statement! He says die, disappear, be completely obliterated.

DIE, O YOGI, DIE! DIE, SWEET IS DYING.

Because in this universe there is nothing sweeter than death. DIE THAT DEATH and die such a death GORAKH DIED AND SAW, die that way in which Gorakh attained enlightenment. In the same way you die and see.

One death we are already familiar with: in which the body dies, but our ego and mind go on living. This same ego finds a new womb. This same ego, troubled by new desires, again starts off on the journey. Even before leaving behind one body, it is already eager for another. This death is not the real death.

I have heard, one man told Gorakh he was thinking of committing suicide. Gorakh said: “Go and commit it, but I tell you, afterwards you will be very surprised.”

That man said: “What do you mean? I came to you so that you would tell me ‘Don’t do it!’ I went to other sadhus. They all cautioned me: ‘Brother, don’t do it, suicide is a great sin.'”

Gorakh said: “Are you mad? No one can commit suicide. No one can even die. Dying is not possible. I warn you, do it and you will be very surprised. After committing suicide you will discover, ‘What! The body is left behind, but I am exactly as I was!’… And if you want to commit real suicide, then stay with me. If you want to play nonsense games, then it’s up to you — jump from some mountain, put your neck in a noose. But if you want the real death, then stay by my side. I will give you the art which brings on the great death, then there will be no possibility of returning again.” But that great death seems to us to be nothing but great death, this is why he is calling it sweet.

DIE, O YOGI, DIE! DIE, SWEET IS DYING.

DIE THAT DEATH GORAKH DIED AND SAW.

Gorakh says I teach death, the death I passed through and became awakened. It was the death of sleep, not of me. The ego died, not me. Duality died, not me. Duality died, and non-duality was born. Time died, and I met the eternal. The small constricted life broke, and the drop became the ocean. Yes, certainly when the drop falls into the ocean in one sense it is dying. As a drop it is dying. And in another sense for the first time it attains to the great life — it lives on as the ocean.

OSHO
Book: “Death is Divine”

The post The Brightest Spiritual Star From Indian Myth – A Spiritual Story By Osho appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.