I have heard about an old Zen monk:
He was on his deathbed. The last day had come, and he declared that on that evening he would be no more. He had many lovers, they all started coming; from far and wide people gathered.
One of his old disciples, when he heard that the Master was going to die, ran to the market. Somebody asked, "The Master is dying in his hut, why are you going to the market?" The old disciple said, "I know that my Master loves a particular type of cake, so I am going to purchase the cake."
It was difficult to find the cake, but by the evening somehow he managed. He came running with the cake.
And everybody was worried -- it was as if the Master was waiting for someone. He would open his eyes and look, and close his eyes again. When this disciple came, he said "Okay, so you have come. Where is the cake?" The disciple produced the cake -- and he was very happy that the Master asked about it.
Dying, the Master took the cake in his hand . . . but his hand was not trembling. He was very old, but his hand was not trembling. So somebody asked, "You are so old and just on the verge of dying. The last breath is soon to leave you, but your hand is not trembling."
The Master said, "I never tremble, because there is no fear. My body has become old, but I am still young, and I will remain young even when the body is gone."
The he took a bite, started munching the cake. And then somebody asked, "What is your last message, Master? You will be leaving us soon. What do you want us to remember?"
The Master smiled and said, "Ah, this cake is delicious."
Quoted in Courage: The Joy of Living Dangerously by Osho.
This cake is delicious.
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