The interest is intellectual, just like a child who becomes interested in everything and each thing and then, after a time, drifts away because more and more curiosities are always opening their doors.

Such a man will never attain. Out of curiosity you cannot attain the truth, because truth needs a persistent effort, a continuity, a perseverance which a man of curiosity cannot do. A man of curiosity can do a certain thing for a certain period of time according to his mood, but then there is a gap and in that gap all that is made disappears, is unmade. Again he will start from the very beginning, and the same will happen.

He cannot crop the result. He can sow the seeds; but he cannot wait, because millions of new interests are always calling him. He goes to the south, then he moves to the east, then he goes to the west, then to the north. He is like a drifting wood in the sea. He is not going anywhere; his energy is not moving to a certain goal. Whatsoever circumstance pushes him... Accidental he is and the accidental man cannot attain to the divine. And he may do much activity, but it is all futile because in the day he will make and in the night he will unmake it. A perseverance is needed; a continuous hammering is needed.

       

 

Jalaludin Rumi had a small school - a school of wisdom. He used to take his disciples to the fields, to the farms around. Particularly one farm he used to take all his new disciples to show what has happened there. Whenever a new disciple will come, he will take him to that farm. There was something worth. The farmer was an example of a certain state of mind. The farmer was digging a well, but he will dig ten feet, fifteen feet, and then he will change the mind. "This place doesn't look good" - so he will start another hole and then another.

Since many years, he has been doing that. Now there were eight incomplete holes. The whole farm was destroyed, and he was working on the ninth. Jalaludin will say to his new disciples, "Look Don't be like this farmer. If he had put all his effort into one hole, by this time the hole would have been one hundred feet at least. He has made much effort; much activity he has done, but he cannot wait. Ten, twelve, fifteen feet, then he gets bored. Then he starts another hole. This way the whole farm will be covered with holes, and there will never be a well."

This is the man of curiosity, the accidental man who does things, and when he starts, he has much zeal - in fact, too much. And this too much zeal cannot become a continuity. He starts with such vigor and zest that you know that soon he will stop.

The second type of man who comes to the inner search is the man of jigyasa - inquiry. He has not come out of curiosity. He has come with an intense inquiry. He means it, but he is also not enough because his meaning is basically intellectual. He may become a philosopher, but he cannot become a religious man. He will inquire deeply, but his inquiry is intellectual. It remains head-oriented; it is a problem to be solved.

       

 

Truth needs you totally. Even ninety-nine percent won't do: exactly hundred percent of you is needed, and head is only one percent. You can live without the head. Animals are living without the head, trees are living without the head. Head is not such an essential thing in existence. You can easily live - in fact, you can more easily live without the head than you are living with the head. It creates millions of complexities. Head is not just an absolute necessity and nature knows that. It is a superfluous luxury. If you have not enough food, the body knows where the food should go: it stops giving it to the head.

That's why, in poor countries, intellect cannot develop, because intellect is a luxury. When everything is finished, when the body is completely getting everything, only then the energy moves towards the head. Even in your life it happens every day, but you are not aware. Eat too much food - immediately you feel sleepy. What is happening? The body needs energy to digest. The head can be forgotten; the energy moves towards the stomach. Head feels dizzy, sleepy. Energy is not moving, blood is not moving, towards head. The body has its own economy.

There are basic things, there are non-basic things. Basic things have to be fulfilled first, because the non-basic can wait, your philosophy can wait. There is not much necessity for it. But your stomach cannot wait. Your stomach has to be fulfilled first; that hunger is more basic. Because of this basic realization many religions have tried fasting, because if you fast the head cannot think, because the energy is not so much; it cannot be given to the head. But this is a deception. When the energy will be there, the head will start thinking again. This type of so-called 'meditation' is a lie.

If you fast long, for few days continuously, the head cannot think. Not that you have attained to no-mind; simply superfluous energy doesn't exist in you now. The body needs are first; bodily needs are basic, essential; head needs are secondary, superfluous. It is just as you have an economy in your home. If your child is dying, you will sell the TV set. There is nothing much involved in it. You can sell the furniture when the child is dying; when you are hungry, you can sell even the house. First things first - that is the meaning of economy - second things second. And head is the last; it is only one percent of you, and that too superfluous. You can exist without it.

       

 

Can you exist without the stomach? Can you exist without the heart? But you can exist without the head. And when you pay too much attention to the head, you are completely upside down. You are doing shirshasana: standing on the head. You have completely forgotten that head is not essential.

And when you give only head to an inquiry, it is jigyasa. Then it is a luxury. You can become a philosopher and sit on an armchair; rest and think. Philosophers are like luxurious furniture. If you can afford good, but it is not a life-and-death problem. So Patanjali says the man of kutuhal - the man of curiosity - cannot achieve; the man of jigyasa - inquiry - will become a philosopher.

Then there is the third man whom Patanjali calls the man of mumuksha. This word mumuksha is difficult to translate, so I will explain it. Mumuksha means the desire to be desireless, the desire to be completely liberated, the desire to get out of the wheel of existence, the desire not to be born again, not to die again, the feeling - that it is enough - born millions of times, dying again and again and moving in the same vicious circle. Mumuksha means to become the ultimate drop-out from the very wheel of existence. Bored, suffering, and one wants to get out of it. The inquiry becomes now a life-and-death problem. Your whole being is at stake. Patanjali says only a man of mumuksha, to whom the desire for moksha - liberation - has arisen, can become a religious man, and then too, because he is a very, very logical thinker.

Then too, there are three types of men who belong to the category of mumuksha. The first type of man who belongs to mumuksha puts his one-third being into the effort. Putting one-third of your being into the effort you will attain something. What you will attain will be a negative achievement: you will not be tense - this has to be understood very deeply - but, you will not be calm. You will not be tense; the tensions will drop. But you will not be tranquil, calm, cool. The attainment will be negative. You will not be ill, but you will not be healthy also. Illness will disappear. You will not feel irritated, you will not feel frustrated. But you will not feel fulfilled also. The negative will drop, the thorns will drop, but the flower has not come.

This is the first degree of mumuksha. You can find many people who are stuck there. You will feel a certain quality in them: they don't react, they don't get irritated, you cannot make them angry, you cannot put them in anxiety. They have attained something, but still you feel something is lacking. They are not at ease. Even non-angry, they don't have compassion. They may not be angry at you, but they cannot forgive. Subtle is the difference. They are not angry, that is right. But even in their being non-angry there is no forgiveness. They are stuck.

They don't bother about you, your insult, but they are, in a way, cut off from relationship. They can't share. Trying to be not angry, they have moved out of all relationships. They have become like islands - closed. And when you are an island, closed, you are uprooted. You cannot flower, you cannot be happy, you cannot have a well-being. It is a negative achievement. Something has been thrown, but nothing has been attained. The path is clear, of course. Even to throw something is very good because now the possibility comes into existence: you can attain something.

       

 

Patanjali calls them mridu: soft. The first degree of attainment, negative. You will find many sannyasins in India, many monks in Catholic monasteries, who are stuck at the first degree. They are good people, but you will find them dull. It is very good not to be angry, but it is not enough. Something is missing; nothing positive has happened. They are empty vessels. They have emptied themselves, but somehow they have not been refilled. The higher has not descended, but the lower has been thrown.

Then there is a second degree of mumuksha - the second degree of the right seeker - who puts himself two-thirds into the effort. Not yet total, just in the middle. Because of the middle, Patanjali calls him madhya - the middle man. He attains something. The first-degree man is in him, but something more is added. He is at peace - silent, cool, collected. Whatsoever happens in the world does not affect him. He remains unaffected, detached. He becomes like a peak: very peaceful.

If you come near him you will feel his peace surrounding you; just as you go in a garden and the cool air and the fragrance of the flowers and the singing of the birds all surround you, they touch you, you can feel. With the first-degree man, the mridu, you will not feel anything. You will feel only an emptiness - a desert-like being. And the first type of man will suck you. If you go near him you will feel that you have been emptied - somebody has been sucking you because he is a desert. With him you will feel being dried, and you will be afraid.

You will feel this with many sannyasins. If you go near them, you will feel they are sucking you, not knowingly. They have attained the first degree. They have become empty, and that very emptiness becomes like a hole and you are sucked by it automatically.

It is said in Tibet that this first-degree man, if he is anywhere, should not be allowed to move in the town. When lamas in Tibet attain to the first degree, they are prohibited to go out of the monasteries - because if this man comes near anybody, he sucks. That sucking is beyond his control; he cannot do anything about it. He is like a desert. Anything that comes near becomes sucked, exploited.

It is not allowed for the first-degree lamas to touch a tree because it has been observed that the tree dies. Even in the Himalayas, a Hindu sannyasin is not allowed to touch trees - they will die. He is a sucking phenomenon. This first-degree lama is not allowed to attend anybody's marriage because he will become a destructive force. He is not allowed to bless anybody because he cannot bless. Even when he is blessing, he is sucking. You may not have known it, for these first-degree lamas, sannyasins, sadhus, monasteries were created, so they can live in an enclosed world of their own, not allowed to move out. Unless they attain to the second degree, they are not allowed to bless anybody.

The second-degree seeker who has put his two-third being becomes peaceful, calm. If you go near him, he flows in you, he shares. Now he is no more a desert; now he is a green forest. Many things are coming up in him - silent, calm, tranquil. You will feel it. But this is also not the goal; many are stuck there. Just to be silent is not enough. What type of achievement is this? Just to be silent? It is like death, no movement, no activity. You are at peace of course, at home of course, but no celebration, no bliss. When the source of life is somewhere near, you become peaceful, but you have not attained yet - just on the way. Patanjali calls this man the madhya: the middle man.

Bliss is a positive phenomenon; peace is just on the way. When bliss comes nearer, you become peaceful. It is a distant influence of the bliss that is reaching near you. It is just like coming near a river: from a long distance you start feeling that the air is cooling, the quality of the greenery is changing. Trees are greener with more foliage. The air is cool. The river you have not seen yet, but the river is somewhere near, the source of water is somewhere near. He is also not the goal. Unless you can dance with ecstasy... This man cannot dance, this man cannot sing, because singing will look like disturbing the peace, dancing will look foolish - what are you doing? This man can only sit like a dead statue - silent, of course, but not flowering; green, but the flowers have not happened yet: the final has not descended.

       

 

Then there is the third-degree man who can dance, who will look mad because he has so much. He cannot contain and because he cannot contain he will sing and he will dance and he will move and he will share, and he will throw wherever he can the seeds that are showering on him endlessly. This is the third-degree man. The third-degree woman. Third-degree seeker who puts his/her totality into it & attains to bliss.