It happened that a great king became very angry with his prime minister — so angry that in a rage he sent the message to the prime minister 'This is the last day of your life; tomorrow morning you will be killed.' The house of the prime minister was surrounded by the army so he could not escape. But the king was puzzled, because he didn't even try. He was a powerful man, he could have managed some way — but rather than escaping, he invited in all his friends.
When the king heard that they were having a party — dancing and singing and eating and drinking — he himself went to see what was happening. Had he gone mad? — because tomorrow was to be the last day. And he had never seen the prime minister so happy in his life; he was just vibrating with joy, pulsating, radiating.
He was so happy to see the king. He invited the king in and he said 'Come and participate, because this is my last day. I decided: Why waste this day? Why not enjoy it? so I have called all my friends. And you have also come — this is great grace. Let us dance and sing, because I will never be again. Tomorrow I disappear… let me disappear with dance. We are going to celebrate the whole night!'
The king was so impressed that he hugged the prime minister and forgave him and said 'You have taught me one of the greatest lessons of my life.'
This is the way one should live, because each moment is the last as far as we know, because the next is not certain. So be blissful herenow, be blissful all the way. And once the decision is there, it starts changing your life. Values become diff~rent: things that were important up to this moment lose their importance, and things about which you have always thought 'Some day I am going to do them' become important. Anger becomes unimportant; love becomes important. Enmity starts looking meaningless; friendship becomes meaningful.
If one can live in constant remembrance of death, one is bound to become a buddha. Buddha used to send his disciples to the cemetery. The beginners had to go there and to live there for three months so that they could see death continuously happening, people being burned. And just the day before the monk would have seen this man walking so happily on the road, and then he was no more.
Day in, day out, people would be brought and would be burned because in India they are burned — and he would see the people disappearing into flames. He had to wait, to sit there for three months continuously watching, watching, seeing how fragile life is, how uncertain the future is, how death is an absolute certainty. And when he would come back after three months he would be a totally different man — his values different, his priorities different.
OSHO