The Holy
There was not long ago in India a famous teacher and sage. A very smart man, by the way. He was raised to the rank of a saint, which is characteristic of intelligent people of that time in India. The most fortunate thing about this teacher was that he was a well-educated man, and his students were people with a good British education. Desiring to convey to the descendants all the greatness of his thoughts in primordial purity, the students carefully recorded them, practically stenographed them, took several photographs of him and even recorded one of his speeches on Edison's phonograph. In general, this teaching was possible to study not in the mode of vague oral translation, as the teaching of most ancient (and modern) saints, but almost from the first mouth.
In his young years, this teaching seemed to me very interesting, and communication with fans of his talent in the USSR was also very curious. I counted on his works and discussed them to such an extent that I began to consider him almost a native teacher and studied his views deeply.
The teacher’s views were extraordinary. In particular, about the saints he wrote that people should not devote themselves to them at all, but should follow their teachings. As a ridicule to religious fanatics, he cited an example when an ancient prophet taught people good, and instead of doing good deeds, they put his statue on the statue, every day on their knees slipped around this statue and beat their heads at its pedestal.
- It is impossible to do so, - wrote the teacher directly in his books, - the lobbying of statues does not give enlightenment!
Generally a good lesson. Right and vital. Do not create a cushion.
So, by chance, I found myself in India, in Delhi. There is a metro station named after the teacher. Next to it is the Temple of the Teacher. Well, how not to visit almost a native person, suddenly what new and interesting I will learn, I will meet with good people.
Having declared myself (and not shaken with my soul) a Russian fan of the Master, I will enter the temple, and there... There is a statue of the Master in the middle of the hall on a stone piedestal. Around the statue on the carpet people crawl on their knees, considering themselves his disciples and followers, sing him praise, and in ecstasy beat their heads at the foot of the stucco.
A man resembling an investigator, in a state similar to being drunk, in a car similar to a BMW, committed an act similar to hitting objects similar to people. Human-like objects ceased to exist like life.