Osho on Ekido (Zen Master) – Only a Zen master beats his disciples

One thing is said about Ekido — that when this disciple died he never said anything about it, he never said: The disciple is dead. He continued as if nothing had happened, and whenever somebody would ask: What about the disciple? he would laugh. He never said anything about it: he never said the disciple was dead, he never said something had gone wrong, he never said it was just an accident. Whenever someone would ask he would laugh. Why was he laughing? — because of the inside story. People can know only from the outside. If I hit you hard and you die, people can only know that you are dead; no one will be able to know what has happened inwardly.

This disciple achieved something, something which buddhas make efforts for many lives to attain — and Ekido did it in a single moment. He was a great artist, a great master. He used the moment of death so beautifully and the disciple attained. The disciple disappeared not only from the body, the disciple also disappeared from the mind. The disciple was never born again; this was total death with no rebirth.

But in Japan people had become accustomed to such things. You would go to a master, he would hit you; he might throw you out of the window; he would jump on you and start beating you. You were asking a philosophical question — whether God exists or not — and he would start beating you. Ekido helped many persons to become enlightened. Only such a man with such deep compassion can help, but a very great surrender is needed.

It is said that the disciple’s parents came when the disciple was dead. They came to see Ekido and they were very angry, obviously — they had only one child and he was dead. They were old and they were depending on him. And they were waiting — sooner or later he was to come back from the monastery and help in their old age.

In Japan, monastery life is a periodical thing. You can go to a monastery, become a sannyasin, remain there for a time, study, meditate, attain a certain quantity of alertness, a certain quality of being, and then come back to live the life of an ordinary householder. Sometimes, if you feel that you are missing and the mind has become dim and confused, you go again. It is not a permanent style of life to become a sannyasin in Japan. Only few people follow it their whole life; that is their decision; you can come back and this is not thought of with guilt.

In India there is guilt. If once you become a sannyasin and then come back, get married and become a householder, then everyone looks at you as if you have fallen. This is nonsense, this is foolish because the whole country cannot become sannyasins Only a few people can be sannyasins, not doing anything, and they will have to depend on others who are doing, who are active in life.

Sannyas should be available to everybody. The whole country must be able to become sannyasins, but that is possible only if you can be a sannyasin in ordinary life — if you can go to the office, if you can work in a shop, if you can be a laborer, or a teacher, or a doctor, or an engineer and still be a sannyasin.

So in Japan people move to the monastery — that is just a training period so the whole time is devoted to meditation — then they come back. They carry the quality with them and come back to ordinary life, become ordinary citizens again and work in life — as far as the outward life is concerned. Inside they go on trying deeply for the inner flame. Whenever they feel something is becoming dim, whenever they feel they are missing consciousness, they go again to the monastery, stay there for a period and come back again.

This old couple was waiting for the boy to come back — and he was dead. They must have been angry; they must have thought many things against this master Ekido. So they came, they looked at Ekido and they were waiting for him to say something kind to them. What did Ekido say? He said, “Why are you waiting? Follow the boy. You have wasted enough life, don’t waste any more.”
And when they looked at Ekido’s eyes they forgot their anger. This man could not be cruel; the compassion was flowing. They had come to complain but they simply thanked Ekido and went back.

When you come to a master, be ready to die. Beating any gong, falling in desire, following a girl — the master can hit you any moment. If you have not surrendered the hit will be useless; the master will not hit you because you will miss, it will not be of much use. This disciple must have been one of the closest, most intimate, and so surrendered that he would die but would not complain. He fell down without a complaint, as if the body dropped like an old dress. And inside there was light, more light; he entered that light.