Notes From A Flute

Ohso to Osho

Ancient Vedic Vision
Tough to follow on television
So sit, near below and envision
Self and nature on holy mission.

If we’re all sinners the Bible should be thinner,
Get the offending crawly and hand it to a skinner;
Since tree of knowledge isn’t rooted in the heart
Feast on forbidden fruit mindfully from the start.

"I’m truth,” cried Mansur in dismay
Before being led away
Allah’s will he did not betray
Seekers are led astray.

Mirror Mirror on the wall asked fairest Devotee of them all
Amid Disciples, Rolls & Sufis what prevented Osho’s fall?
Cracking with chutzpah reflected a looking glass in the mall
Celebrating life chock-full He remained a bystander at every stall.

Masters leave their message somewhat unfinished
Blanks get institutionalized, most are diminished
Osho left an imprint on my spirit unblemished
Stamped in invisible ink, it read replenished.

Heat is the nature of fire, as cold is Dharma of ice
Religion is not Dharma and God is not a device
Dharma is your self-nature, which nothing may entice
That is Truth pure and simple, yours at no price.

To turn a seeker, is to inform the maker
Body is the temple and God caretaker
Journey continues without speed breaker
Look in hand-mirror for driver & navigator.

Is there a hell and is there a heaven
Got to the bottom at my local tavern
It’s sold like stuff at the seven-eleven
What a relief, oh thank heaven.

Is life the destination or is travel the goal?
Can a branch nipped from tree, grow on hyperbole?
On face of existence, nature doesn’t appear like a mole
In consciousness alone, man traces links with the soul.

Between spiritual & spirited there is a difference
One is at the center, the other at circumference
Further you move from the point of reference
You stray from bliss to banal existence.

Fishing for God cast your net wide
He’s the very water not the fish, beside
Logic will serve you little, put it aside
Use salt as tackle to dissolve inside.

Birth you had no say, in death you will neither
So why worry, what you can’t control either
Like a leaf blow, in gratitude of His wind
Enjoy in fading, onion like, rind by rind.

Prem Sawhney

A New Adventure Begins

I have been here in the Commune at Pune, for two weeks now. I am filled with a sense of wonder, deeply moved by my inner experience, as I participate in groups that take me on a journey to the centre of my being. It has taken me 25 years to reach to this place. When I first heard about Bhagwan Rajneesh, in the early 70’s, I was in a state of rebellion. God, God men or women, Sadhu, Swami, Guru, Religion, Saffron robes... all had been rejected outright. My search for identity took me towards the West... A thirst for knowledge, for rational and scientific thought, and a desire to understand the human psyche had led me to study clinical psychology, and I trained as a psychotherapist. Armed with the theories of Freud, Jung and Laing and the techniques of Carl Rogers and Abraham Maslow, I set out to heal the suffering of my fellow human beings.
It did not take me long to discover that my tools and techniques were effective in a very limited way. Looking for more humane methods, I added on great quantities of love and compassion, moving out of the ‘technical’ framework of my clinical training. As I moved among mentally and emotionally disturbed people, being present, listening... I knew something more was needed. Whatever I did, helped, but not enough.
In 1980, I read ‘The Tao Of Physics’, which talked of the emerging parallels between Western scientific thought, and Eastern mysticism. I began to be more open to everything that I had shut out of my life, when I had labeled myself an atheist! Around the same time, I met a lady called Ma Yoga Lakshmi (I am not sure of the name... I think this was it). She talked to me, at length, about ‘Bhagwan’ and his teachings, and the commune. I was interested, but could not get past my block towards someone who called himself Bhagwan.
Ma Yoga Lakshmi left a book with me, called ‘The Zero Experience’. The book was beautiful. It echoed most of the thoughts that were beginning to surface within me. I began to understand that this man had radical ideas and was in some magical way, doing and teaching exactly what I was looking for!!
Still, I could not get past my resistance. I clung to my ‘Scientific’ and ‘Rational’ beliefs, but began to throw in some meditations for relaxation, read some more books, listened to a few Rajneesh tapes... Accepted the teachings without accepting the teacher! Those were the days when Rajneesh was a controversial figure. The stories and rumours that were circulating were strange and unsavoury. A Raj Yoga meditation centre opened, just a few houses away from where I lived, in Delhi. Each morning, when I went for a walk, I heard the unnerving shouting and screaming of the dynamic meditation. Men and women in saffron robes, naked people... I was fascinated... attracted and repelled at the same time. Stuck.
Over the years, I continued to appreciate the techniques that were being developed. I saw that whatever was lacking in psychotherapy, and the modern psycho-technologies, was being completed by adding the spiritual aspect to the search. That the search was free of religious rituals and creeds. That this was a path of great freedom, of inner freedom... of being yourself... of actualizing your own potential... As I began to grow into freedom myself, the desire to meet this man, increased. He no longer called himself ‘Bhagwan’, (which helped, although I had finally worked myself out of that judgemental mode!) But the circumstances of my life were such, that I could not get away. I was deep into my work, my domestic life... my nose to the grindstone. So I never met him.
In the past ten years, after him, more and more of his work has been available in books, videos, tapes. This was wonderful, as it gave me an opportunity to understand what he was all about, rather than relying on blind faith or the experiences of other people. I have been using many of his techniques.
They are powerful and effective.
Earlier this year, I came to the Commune for a ‘meditation intensive’ weekend. It was like coming home. That’s it. Simple. Finally, after 25 years, here I was! Home.
I’m back here now. It is the turn of the century. On the eve of the year 2000, I am here, by myself, learning intricate dance movements in the Osho Gurdjeff intensive. I am digging deep into myself. At the moment I feel peaceful, centred and relaxed. I am grateful to Osho for the legacy he has left behind. His conception of the ‘new man’ is exhilerating. I am grateful too, to all those engaged in keeping his teachings alive, and this wonderful space, which nourishes and welcomes.
Life has happened to me again.
A new adventure begins...

Ms. Akash Dharmaraj
New Delhi

Moments from an inexplicable life

Not long before I met him personally I had longed urgently for such a man as Osho in my life. This what had happened.I was staring out across a snow-bound road, immobilised, imprisoned in a phone booth as a tanker-truck came sliding sideways at me through the English fog. I could see the guilt and horror on the driver’s face as he gave up with the steering wheel. I understood he saw my crimson death across his looming yellow bulk. Deep within myself, I felt an arrow tipped with unfulfilled desire pierce through the armour of my heart. In less time than it takes to blink the movie of my life unscrolled. From a childhood of trust and innocence I saw my personality stiffen into knowing indifference. From enchanted joyfulness I had travelled via religious education and reactive left wing politics to a hardened cynicism. "I haven’t lived!” I mutely screamed. The tanker swung and jumped the curb and juddered to a halt, its giant wheel-hub splintering the glass and rocking the old cast iron phone booth on its solid base.
"Are you OK?”
I’m absolutely fine. I have everything a man could possibly desire. A loving wife and kids, a modest reputation as an artist/painter, supportive friends, congenial work, a house and little farm, and yet... and yet... I have not lived. I have not met the reason for my being on this planet.
"I’m fine.”
"A scratch.”
"A scratch?”
Internal. Invisible. A mortal wound. From that day forth I went about my life as usual, yet complacency was leaking from the perforation in my heart. What is the point of life if death can come so quickly and make a mockery of everything?
Some few weeks following that incident, I was milking in the cow-tie in the early morning. My wife stood framed in sunlight in the doorway. She was pulling wrappings from a parcel that had just arrived from India.
"It’s a book from Roger. He’s calling himself Swami Anuragi now.”
I sat with my head pressed into the warm softness of the old cow’s flank while my wife seated herself on a spare milking stool and opened at random the book she introduced as ‘The Way of the White Cloud’ by Osho, then known as Bhagawan Shree Rajneesh. She read aloud, her voice a mellow thread above the rhythmic squirts of milk into the pail. As she read, something like a dormant flower arose and pushed itself into our sphere of consciousness. Both of us were crying. We went into the kitchen. The words were ringing in my heart. " is a rare flowering, it can only happen when there is no fear... if you can allow love to happen, there is no need for prayer, there is no need for meditation, there is no need for any church...”
"Who is this man?”
"...and what have you got to lose? Nothing! The body will be taken by death...”
"We have to go and see him,” I said and my knees began shaking so badly that I had to sit down at the kitchen table.
Within days a cheque for a thousand pounds for some paintings had arrived, our first holiday for three years had been re-routed from Spain to India and a young friend had volunteered to take care of the farm. My wife and the kids and I walked through the gateless gate in winter time just twenty two years ago. Buddham Sharanam Gachchhami. We, along with thousands of others, were being drawn like metal filings to a magnet, to bow down at the feet of an awakened one. Now as I write these words, tears again come to my eyes and small fragments of the inexplicable unfolding of events become explicate.
It wasn’t easy in those early years. Old attachments, fears, desires and expectations don’t drop off painlessly. They are abraded by interactions with the other members of the commune, by the master’s hits that crash out of a cloudless sky and by the sudden realisation that I’m the one just about to shoot myself in the foot. The one who had cried out silently in the telephone booth, "I haven’t lived,” now saw he had a solid load of concepts and conditionings that stopped him flying through the silent universe of truth.
I went through all the stuff of jealousy and sexual attachment, I went through issues surrounding power and competition and I had to face more vividly the actuality of death. And I learned the antidote for every poison. Meditation.
The commune was a hotbed for the flourishing of the total range of feelings and emotions to which the human mind is heir. Surrender was a word much in use in those days. Surrender is easy when asked for by a man of wisdom and difficult when it is one of those power-hungry minions of the kitchen empire in the ashram who were an important part of our button pushing wake-up, ego-dropping process. I remember that the answers to the question that I asked the master at that time were nearly always, ‘Follow your feelings’ and ‘Accept’, putting fairly and squarely back on me the responsabilities and decisions of my life. So we disparate sannyasins from every class and culture on the earth become bonded, united, not so much directly with each other, but indirectly in our love and surrender to our master. This phenomenon was the creation of a Sangam or commune. Sangam Sharanam Gachchhami. I bow down to the commune of the awakened one. And all the while the master’s love, his climate of compassion healed, nourished and supported us. And his humour and his profound insights led us on, we knew not where.
In Poona, Oregon and back in Pune we put our love and creativity and sweat and laughter into building up the commune and the foundations for our beloved master to disseminate the truth and bring us to the point of personal elimination.
Before any of us felt ready for it, when most of us were still heedless of his warnings, the poison of the American Government did their work and Osho had dissolved into his ineffable home. It is extraordinary to remember how, for weeks and months following his departure, we were in such a profound state of both pain and joy, shock and celebration.
I returned to the West, not particularly by choice, more feeling compelled by the inexplicable force over which I had no control. After the first flush of freedom and excitement I began to feel very lost. I could not find my destiny, my niche, my place. For years I was wandering in the world looking for a commune that would replicate the experiences of living life with Osho. I travelled in both hemispheres like a journeyman craftsman of old, building places of meditation and renewing my connection with painting. Nowhere could I settle. "My people are not trees,” I remember the master saying, "they don’t have roots to put down.”
Some three years ago I returned to England to have an operation on my knee. That incapacitated me for about a year. My lover is a teacher at the Osho Ko’Hsuan School in Devon. I have begun to understand something very deeply. I am in the world to learn from the world. Now that the master is no longer in the body, the Dharma of life becomes my teacher. Throughout life I have been pretty much estranged from my parents, my sister and my brother. I was educated from an early age in boarding schools and I left home at the earliest opportunity, feeling unable and unwilling to subscribe to the family expectations. My father, when I became a sannyasin, disinherited me. On his death, my mother and I had very little to say to each other and it was only recently that I came to know she was suffering from various health problems associated with old age. In spite of old prejudices I felt drawn to be with her, to ease her through the pain and discomfort of sickness and the institutionalised medical profession. Towards the end she lapsed from the world of words and rationality and I could see her wrestling with the devils of her unconscious. I sat with her remembering Osho’s teachings of the importance of the time of death. I used the Reverse Golden Light meditation that he taught us, breathing in my mother’s pain and fear and darkness into my heart and breathing out a golden light of joy, acceptance and celebration. It worked miraculously. My mother’s face became relaxed. When I stopped or was distracted she reverted into tension and anguish. At one point I was singing quietly to her, let-go songs from music group. A look of sweet serenity spread across her wrinkled face. I said, "Mum you look wonderful,” a remark the like of which I had never previously uttered to her. And then I surprised myself still further by saying to this woman whom I had always felt had rejected me and failed to love and respect me, "Mum I love you,” words that welled up from some deep, authentic, innocent space at my core. She died that night.
In those days surrounding her death, I met again my brother and my sister. We shared the heart-opening experience of death and can never be estranged again. So the dharma of life in its inexplicable way teaches what the master in the body taught. Dhammam Sharanam Gachchhami. I bow down to the ultimate truth of the awakened one. The inexplicable rest is not my business.
Love and His Blessings

Swami Deva Rashid,
United Kingdom

Osho The Artist

The most controversial spiritual master of the 20th century, Osho, formerly known as Rajneesh, was famous for his oratory, that sounded like ‘music’ to the ears of the audience. But not many know, that creativity also flowed through his fingers, in the form of colourful sketches, that bear semblance of paintings. In fact, his signature, which almost resembles a mini-painting, reflects his artistic adroitness. It was only last week — ten years after his death, that about 20 to 25 of his 800 odd paintings, were put up on display, at the Osho Commune International, as part of the 40 day millennium celebrations, culminating on January 19, Osho’s death anniversary.
Interestingly, these sketches, were not painted on sprawling canvas, but were artistically born inside the books "that he took to read.” One of his early and ardent disciple, Ma Shunyo, a Britisher, and noted for her bestselling autobiography, ‘Diamond Days With Osho’, reveals that "he used to read about 100 books a week, on various subjects. He would call for the book that he liked most in that particular week, and then paint the philosophy of that particular book, on one of the blank pages, either at the beginning or end of the book.”
Most of his sketches have been created during the late 1970s and mid-1980s and it took him not more than half an hour to dabble in the vibrant colours of his sketch pens, to come out with colourful paintings. "Generally, it used to be in the afternoons, when he used to pursue his passion. We used to send in the trolley of books that he had read for that week, into his bedroom, after lunch hour,” says Ma Shunyo.
The panel of original sketches were recently displayed in Osho’s personal library, against the backdrop of huge bookshelves lined with books, in a format of waves. The library, contains around 80,000 books. His disciples say that Osho used to hate books being lined up, subjectwise, since it portrayed a structural and rigid arrangement. Therefore, he advised them to keep them in a Mexican wave fashion. "Earlier, it used to be so difficult to locate a book, but now thanks to a meticulous computerised compilation, any book can be located within minutes,” says Ma Shunyo. The numerous sketches are in abstract form, although geometrical in nature, but made of bright and vibrant colours, that are indeed eye-appealing. In fact, one of his painting, in grey and white, exuberates so much vivacious energy, that you admire his skill to make even pastel shades, look bright and alive.
Compared to the stupendous 800 odd sketches done by Osho, very few of them were displayed at the commune, recently. Although Swami Chaitanya Keerti, Osho Commune spokesman reveals that around 80 sketches were available for display, this writer could see only 20 to 25 paintings. What about the remaining ones? Swami Chaitanya Keerti, explains that "All the sketches were taken to the Osho Commune International centre in London, for scientifically preserving this rare art of work, for posterity. Presently, they have been kept in the godown where the Jurassic Park reels have been preserved. A particular temperature is required so that these sketches do not get spoilt. At the moment, 80 of them were sent to Pune for display, and soon the remaining ones too will arrive.”
Osho’s lectures, that have now been compiled into books and audio cassettes, comprise practically every subject under the sun and one of them is art. What does he have to say about art? Read this one. "Every art can be described as objective art, or as subjective art. The subjective art you will find everywhere. It comes from your feeling, from your heart, from your mind, in paintings, in poetry, in music. But the objective art comes from the emptiness of your heart. You just become a flute, a hollow bamboo and the universe sings through you.”
Osho’s work of art is printed in the form of greeting cards and posters, but it is the original sketches that could well form invaluable pieces of art, in times to come.

Vinita Deshmukh
Indian Express, Pune

A Greater Dream Of A New Humanity

A tranquil morning, wisps of mist hang still amongst green pockets created by tall shrubs and a wide canopy of majestic trees. A hint of the emerging day depicted by tiny circles of gold on the fresh green, grass floor. In a gentle rippling stream, a patient heron stands still in its flowing, waters. Time seems to stand still....
A human form responds to the silent rhythm of this stillness. Then, in a sudden flash of turquoise blue, a few concentric ripples are created in the water and the still space, and a triumphant kingfisher perches on a florally bedecked branch of a powder puff shrub with its prize — a squiggly morsel of fish in its long beak...
This is not a verbose paragraph fished out of a fertile mind, but an experience at the Osho Teerth Park. From garbage dump to an aesthetic and ecological triumph, the ‘Nulla’ Park, as it is commonly known, is the story of the success of an international community devoted to a revolution of a new mankind.
Koregaon Park is a prime locality in Pune, dotted by sprawling mansions with verdant gardens, and three bridges at various junctions, each of which earlier spanned an eyesore of a nulla. This ‘Nulla’ was an oil-slicked, dark grey-green, foul-smelling stream, surrounded by land laid barren by overgrazing, a ground made up of colorful plastic bags strewn all over, and pigs, wallowing in the filth and sewage spills. Armies of mosquitoes formed a floating population, thus completing a picture of the decrepit face of urbanization.
What we see today is a complete transformation — from an open sewage to a verdant, undulating landscape, complete with a gurgling stream and myriad shades and textures of green as far as the eye can see— where the subtly changing aspects of landscape are a treat to the senses. The spaces and colors flow harmoniously into each other, leaving you with a sustained feeling of all-pervading quietude. This unique quality is one which can barely if ever translate into words. It is one that fills your being as you move deeper into the nurtured spaces, nooks and corners and experience the subtle unravelling of nature at its best.
First the nulla was systematically guided through a steel gate at the south end of the park and the gate was provided with a mesh to separate the floating garbage. It was then guided through a series of four ponds, created on natural bedrock which alternates between functions such as settling tanks for sludging and filtration tanks. This filter system is a unique one — it is a natural root zone filtration system which is applied by means of plants such as waterhyacinth, bulrushes and alocasias. Fish called gambusia have been specially incorporated in this system to further clear the water of mosquito larvae.
The ponds cascade into each other by maintaining a level difference of 300 mm, thereby encouraging natural aeration and oxygenation of the flowing water, as it is designed to course in a winding stream bed created for maximum aeration surface. This winding design is to accommodate a larger area of flow within the constraint of the width of the land. It also has a back up of wetland zones to catch the extra gallons of water inevitable during heavy showers, thereby helping the cultivated ponds retain their unique eco-culture, to function as cleansing agents. A number of large water cascades over massive boulders have been added at intervals to further facilitate aeration, as well as add aesthetic focal points and sound quality to the landscape. The water at the source of entry which was an unclean stream with oil waste dumped by a neighboring railway yard, continues to be cleaned by the natural filter processes and is now 80 percent purified after having passed through this course. The proof of success lies in the fact that it is now naturally inhabited by fish, kingfishers, herons and lapwings who have made the Park their permanent abode. Sunbirds with their brilliant colors and chattering bulbuls dot the landscape. In fact, one sees nearly 20 species of migratory birds and Nature seems to have established a completely balanced and interactive habitat here.
The Osho Teerth Park was conceived by Osho and his vision was translated into reality by the Shunyo Foundation with the active participation of Swami Prem Siddhena, an architect from the US, who planned the garden along with its technical details such as plot drainage, cleansing of the ‘nulla’, irrigation, etc., with the assistance of Swami Vedant Bharti and a Japanese landscapist. Besides this core group, plenty of sannyasins contributed their efforts voluntarily to convert Osho’s vision of creating an area for meditation, into a beautiful reality. It will remain a unique example of community effort to create and ably manage a park, 850 meters long and 75 meters wide, running south to north. The design also included a network of meandering pathways both along the stream and also ensconced amidst luxuriantly planted, interconnecting spaces that are discrete, canopied by large bamboos or trees which play a dominant role. Spaces are designed to be conducive to meditation or to just absorb the artistic focal points and vistas created by palm fronds or frames and by bamboos and tree trunks.
The play of light and shadow is a major design element here as are the large boulders outlining the stream or seating corners. One can cross the stream or seating corners. One can cross the stream using the flat boulders as stepping stones or the strategically laid out Japanese style, stone bridge, framed by golden bamboos at both ends.
The ambience of the garden is essentially Japanese and it has been allowed to grow in a subtly controlled but visibly wild form, thereby adding a quality of timelessness to the landscape. A thoughtful planting of indigenous trees along the periphery negates the presence of the existing residential buildings on the sides and the sculptural forms inherent in the plant species are cleverly used to create a symphony of visuals.
Swami Siddhena has been quoted to have said, "Once you are tuned to the universal design inside, it doesn’t matter what you are designing as long as you respond to your inner voice.” It is this very philosophy that seems to pervade the park as even the noisiest of visitors have been touched enough to quieten down and ‘feel’ the garden instead of just ‘seeing’ it. The Park will remain a lesson that with nurturing care and respect for Nature, we can once again green the barren stretches of earth ravaged by mankind. With the creation of such parks, we can give the earth a chance to revitalize itself. A universal truth has been reiterated to us through this unique project — that the earth has a tremendous potential to rejuvenate itself and play host to various flora, fauna and humans alike as an intrinsic part in the design of the universe to conjoin all living beings in a joyful union.
The same philosophy of reverence to nature is evident in the precincts of the Osho Commune. The boundary wall and buildings are all dressed in black natural stone or painted black. Interesting in their architectural definitions, yet unobtrusive as a background for all the profusion of mixed plants predominantly of green colors. The plants are the revered features in the large sprawling complex. Curvilinear, free form, pathways lead you to your destination framed on both sides by tall dracenas, palms and other ground covers. Dominating the buildings and landscape are the strong vertical forms of the green bamboo with intertwined delicate branches, most hosting the numerous bulbuls that flit in and out of spaces between. The creak-creak sounds of bamboos moving in the wind intersperse all conversations and meditations and are now nearly an entity within the commune. Often orchids surprise you by their blooms during the monsoon, for otherwise they are silent spectators clinging to barks of some trees. Close to certain interactive open spaces are ponds that seem to be there as an eternity, one of them hosting a swan and the other a colony of lotus or nymphea. Along with the swans a pair of white peacocks are also at home with the sannyasins around them. A few cascading streams with heliconias and giant monsteras create a mood of a quiet interplay between man and nature which is a predominant factor at the commune. All spaces here, whether it is meant for meditation, playful activity, cafeteria or administrative spaces are completely cozy and flowing into each other gently just by the role of nature as a harmonizing and unifying element. One of the scenes could be like this: an open air cafeteria/coffeebar with granite tables, black chairs, black floor flowing towards a freeform cutout filled with white marble chips/gravel, a rock outcrop back filled by vertical forms of a green bamboo. Through those vertical spaces you see the multiversity plaza filled with maroon human forms, sannyasins at a worktable punching in programmes or bookings on computers and the wall behind them is large serrated fanlike leaves of washingtonia palm about 8-9 feet tall and translucent due to the sunlight beyond. Very magical, very relaxed, and never have I seen a play of technology, nature and humans in such harmony with each other. Divisions of all spaces here are so innovative in its use of nature, yet not methodically planned — just put in by the heart energy of sannyasins in a relaxed way. A unique atmosphere has been created here seldom seen anywhere else in any other landscape.
An all encompassing tranquility in the hubs of movement of nearly ten thousand people. The plants here play the role of an entity, bathed in the light of the sun and in the love of the inhabitants, exuding a special energy and atmosphere.
Osho’s last words were "I leave you my dream” and surely this landscaped dream world within the commune and the Osho Teerth Park are an intrinsic part of this greater ‘dream’ for a transformation of mankind towards a new humanity.

Sumitra Naren

Two Tales - One Story
A Review of Strategic Alliances and Spirituality.

His Holiness. John Paul II and the Hidden History of Our Time. By Carl Bernstein & Marco Politi. New York, Doubleday, 1996. 582 pages.
A Passage to America. By Max Brecher. Bombay,
Book Quest Publ., 1993. 407 pages.

When Reagan took office in January 1981 and soon established intimate relationship with the Vatican, the foundation was made to what was to become the end of ‘the evil empire’ and a new geopolitical structure in less than ten years. This story is revealed with documentary accuracy by Carl Bernstein — the renowned Watergate reporter who still seems in touch with the ability to hear the grass grow in the political environment — and his Italian co-writer Marco Politi.
Having an Irish-Catholic father, Reagan soon found himself surrounded in The White House with chosen men from working-class Catholic backgrounds in keypositions of the new administration: William Casey as head of CIA, Zbigniew Brzezinski as national security adviser, Secretary of State Alexander Haig, Vernon Walters, deputy director of CIA, and quite a few others. Previous presidents, including Kennedy, had gone to considerable length to put a distance between the government and the church, but not so anymore. In the Reagan office they now all saw their Church as the crucible of anti-communist conviction, and where Soviet was the political evil empire, Communism as ideolology was definitely considered the spiritual evil.
The alliance between Washington and the Vatican was initiated by Brzezinski, himself being of Polish origin and in tune with ‘The Polish Pope’. Already in the Spring of 1981 the Reagan administration began an intelligence shuttle at the highest level with the Pope, and Casey or Walters would have their secret briefings in the Vatican with John Paul-II, fifteen meetings over six years. Reporting directly to Reagan the chief of CIA was now on a undercover mission of global impact. American support to family planning programs in developing countries were cut down to harmonize the agenda of the Catholic Church, in particular the anti-conception policy and the anti-feminism liberation. The spreading of AIDS and continued population growth being direct results of this alliance.
But most of all, the emerging Solidarity movement in Poland and the position of Lech Walesa were key topics in the briefings. U.S. aid worth $50 mill. supported Solidarity, and when Soviet troops lined up along the borders of Poland during the martial law in November 1981, the Pope was presented by Walters with dewy satellite photos of movements and deployment of Warsaw Pact forces. This alliance and ‘geostrategic dialogue’ between Reagan and the Vatican, with CIA as go-between, showed so powerful in its scope and impact that the political events in Poland during the early 1980’es were to alter the map of Europe and the geostrategic global balance:
"On June 7, 1982, Reagan arrived in the Vatican for a summit meeting between these two very different superpowers that would personalize the remarkable secret alliance between them. Meeting alone without interpreters in the papal study for fifty minutes, two of the most powerful men on earth discussed in philosophical and practical terms a proposition so radical that no other leaders in the West had seriously considered it: that the collapse of the Soviet empire was inevitable, more for spiritual than for strategic reasons, and that the world built at Yalta not only should not but could not stand” (p.355-6).
An amazing story told with the nerve as a thriller and drawing on the full political insight of the authors. The primary sources of the book are Bernstein’s and Politi’s interviews with more than three hundred keypersons in the U.S. and in the Vatican — conducted mainly between 1993 and 1996.
What is revealed in these pages is by all means one of the most profound and consequential tales of our time.
A tale of a well-knitted alliance not only having its impact on international level, but also influencing the Reagan administration’s handling of other matters on the domestic scene as we shall see. For lovers of conspiracy theories You’ll find quite a few hints for further research, but in broad daylight it’s hard to miss evident facts of a White House initiative to get rid of a ‘persona non grata’ visitor to the U.S. And maybe the operation was going even further.
When Osho — before 1989 known as Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh— entered U.S. in the summer of 1981 it was by all means not the beginning of his work as an enlightened master, but rather an extension of his work from the Eastern to the Western hemisphere. Born in India in 1931, Osho soon demonstrated an independent spirit, and following his experience of enlightenment in the age of twenty-one he started to address audiences and speak on hot topics within spirituality and sexuality. His ashram in Poona was soon to become a beehive of talented seekers and therapists from the West, pouring their energies into the work of their master and turning Poona into a spiritual growth center of unique quality on a global level in the 1970’s.
Prior to the departure for U.S., one early Monday morning on June 1st with Pan Am’s New York bound flight 001, the American Bombay Consulate was approached with a visa application. Three days earlier during the handling of the application, a cable was sent May 2, 9 a.m. Bombay time to the Consulate from Alexander Haig, first secretary of state. It said in plain words that ‘THERE IS HIGH LEVEL INTEREST IN THIS CASE’.
And so it seemed, still more evident in the following years, that the harassment by the Reagan administration against Osho’s land estate in the mountains of Oregon were actions that fitted overwhelmingly smooth into the overall framework of the strategic alliance with the Vatican. To celebrate ‘The Year of the Bible’ relations with the Vatican were formalized as from January 10th 1994, and soon CIA also found themself engaged in the outphasing of anti-papal ‘liberation theology’ in Latin America.
Being a long time entry on the Vatican’s list of forbidden authors— former known as Index Librorum Prohibitorum — Osho and his criticism of the papal institution was causing constant anxiety in the leading circles of the Roman-Catholic church. Among the sixty interviewpersons approached by Brecher during his 1989 fact-finding-research, cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, Head of the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and the second most powerful man in the Vatican, revealed that he would only consider the matter if all questions were submitted to him in writing months in advance. According to information from someone ‘very close’ to Ratzinger, he ‘is known to have operated behind the scenes in the expulsion of Rajneesh from America’. It is beyond doubt that Ratzinger got the creeps when ‘oriental godmen’ were threatening the church and seducing the followers away from Christ.
The cabinet chosen by Ronald Reagan after his inauguration in January 1981 had Edwin Meese III as his general counsellor. And for the first time in American history the general counsellor assumed cabinet member status, when from February 1985 Edwin Meese was also appointed U.S. Attorney General. Meese’s responsibility included authority over government staff for domestic policy and national security.
It was by no means unexpected that Meese would hold a strong position in the Reagan administration. Way back in 1966 when Reagan was elected governor of California on a promise ‘to clean up the mess at Berkeley’, he had chosen as chief of the campaign Deputy District Attorney Edwin Meese. On May 20th 1969 Meese had proven his skills and his loyalty to the governor having the tactical command when 200 persons were injured and one killed by police in The People’s Park demonstrations in Berkeley. What may now be almost forgotten is the fact that over one hundred high ranking officials in the Reagan administration were later indicted on charge of ethical misconduct, among them also Edwin Meese III who was forced to resign from his post as U.S. Attorney General.
The whereabouts of Osho kept quite a few officials occupied in U.S. Government, and applying for a ‘green card’ for residency it was once again confirmed by U.S.State Department in a confidential telegram to the American Consulate in Bombay on November 24th 1981, that ‘THERE IS BOTH CONGRESSIONAL AND WHITE HOUSE INTEREST IN THE ACTIVITIES OF THE GURU AND HIS ASHRAM’.
Was Osho a religious teacher and as such entitled to permanent resident status? And was Rajneeshpuram unconstitutional as it was violating constitutional standards on separation of church and state? To coordinate the legal approach to these questions communication lines were glowing between agencies like Immigration and Naturalization Services (INS), FBI, CIA and DEA. Considering the 1985-prosecution of Osho for violating immigration laws and marriage fraud, it is admitted in an interview by U.S. Attorney in Portland, Oregon, Charles Turner, that "we were trying to use the criminal process to solve what was really a political problem.” During 1985 when the pressure for expulsion of Osho from U.S. was rapidly growing, there were telephone conference calls of up to an hour or more participated in by the attorney General Frohmeyer, the govenor of Oregon, the head of the state police, the head of the FBI and Charles Turner. Twice a day. According to Frohmeyer, it was ‘the longest single criminal investigation ever mounted in the state of Oregon’. To solve a political and religious matter between the U.S. administration and the interests of the Vatican.
Tensions grew in Oregon during the summer festival of 1985, as Osho kept hammering on the nail. During press conferences he succeeded to challenge any fixed belief of the western mind, to an extent that the commune suddenly found themself surrounded by operational plans involving the National Guard and special SWAT-teams to clean the area and take Osho in custody. For everyone who visited Rajneeshpuram and experienced USAF fighters dive down out of the blue and break the sound barrier over their heads, it was obvious that the system was building up towards a final phase. Concerning the topic how to make the arrest of Osho, again we find Edwin Meese and the Attorney General’s office involved in the discussions. Definitely it was a delicate and touchy political question, and the more clandestine and covert the final operation, the better. By no means the FBI wanted to get involved in some bloody mess on the ranch, and the horn blew the signal from Meese: "Don’t get involved in storming the compound.”
Instead the opportunity turned up when Osho left the Ranch onboard a Lear jet on Sunday at 5.30 p.m. October 27th 1985. In the airport of Charlotte, North Carolina, Osho and his fellow travellers were met by armed guards and arrested without any arrest warrant. An official arrest warrant were only presented three days later in the federal court in Charlotte. It was not signed, it was not completely filled out, and it was later not to be found in the federal court records, either in Charlotte or in Portland, Oregon.
The process was definitely not to take place in Oregon at once. The signals from the federal government were loud and clear: "Hell, no! We move to detain him. We’re not interested in talking about shipping him anywhere. Period!” Still it was and became an Oregon state matter and many, including media, were surprised that the federal government as an entity was involved to a great extent.
After a few nights in the Charlotte prison the U.S. Attorney ordered Osho to be taken to Oklahoma County Jail, and for ‘security reasons’ not to the normal overnight housing space for prisoners at the El Reno Federal Penitentiary outside town. The Deputy wanted Osho to sign in under a false name, and afterwards we find direct and circumstantial evidence that Osho was poisoned while in Oklahoma County Jail on November 4th.
A medium-strength radioactive source is suspected to have been hidden inside the mattress, to destroy his mental abilities, faculties of speech and his immune system. On the morning of the 5th the filthy mattress was changed and for breakfast he was served two slices of bread soaked in a tasteless odourless sauce. Immediately after eating Osho felt nauseous, and later his doctors expected him to have taken in also thalium, a heavy metal used in rat poison. They also believe he was heavily sedated, in fact he didn’t remember much of what had happened on November 5th. The same afternoon — mass media were following the trail — Osho was secretly taken to El Reno, a 30-minute drive away. The trip took two hours.
Summing up Osho stayed four days in Oklahoma, with the authorities ignoring all documents and testimonies regarding his frail medical condition. On the contrary, it is evident that his health has deteriorated ever since he spend the nights in this place.
In Oklahoma the name of Kerr-McGee meant a former governor and a business man, the company owner of a nuclear plant in the state. In the early seventies Karen Silkwood was working as a lab analyst in the plutonium plant located just outside Oklahoma city. She discovered that eighty-seven employees, including herself, had been contaminated by plutonium. and her findings clearly suggested company negligence. On November 7th, 1974 she discovered that her whole flat was contaminated with plutonium, indicating that someone was on to her activities and wanted her silenced. One week later her car was rammed from behind, went out of control, and she was killed outright. She was on her way to meet David Burnham of The New York Times to disclose her findings to him. She never made it.
During the case all tracks were covered up to put a lid on what was finally in 1979 ruled by the Oklahoma City judge, that Kerr-McGee was fully responsible for radiation damage, "whether or not government safety standards were met or negligence occurred.” The plutonium provided for Osho’s mattress was from this company, continuing an old close connection of misconducted operations between government officials and the powerful Kerr-McGee. The day after Osho had left Oklahoma City, Deputy Marshall Paul Mayfield, Oklahoma County Jail, left the Marshal Service to work for INS somewhere down the Texas-Mexican border. His trail was covered up.
Osho was released on bail from Multonomah County Justice Center in Portland on November 8th. But not without a bomb threat was announced through TV to go off at 5.55 p.m. The search exposed a bag containing electronics at the same floor where Osho was waiting. Finally an Alford plea was agreed upon in Portland Federal District Court releasing Osho from a charge of minor criminal offences like arranging sham marriages and violating immigration law. By all means this was not a criminal case, but a political pursuit being run from the White House.
According to the plea agreement Osho corporations would agree to drop participation in all class action conspiracy suits against the INS, the U.S. State Department, and all Oregon and federal officials. Yes. The successful conclusion of the Osho case was vaguely commented by Edwin Meese III at the following morning meeting for department heads at Justice Department headquarters in Washington. The meeting was accidentially filmed for a PBS documentary ‘Justice For All’.
Despite everyone’s greatest fears and lowest hopes Jonestown II at Rajneeshpuram was cancelled because of lack of interest. Seventeen state and federal agencies had been coordinating their efforts investigating Osho and Rajneeshpuram. Whether this may be called a conspiracy or not will require an exceptionally keen magnifying glass to sort out the details and slight differences. Strong sentiments were later to be expressed by Meese about the success of dismantling Rajneeshpuram.
Being back in India Osho spent a few months in Kulu-Manali in Himachal Pradesh continuing to give discourses to his listeners. On his subsequent World Tour to followers in four continents the message from U.S. was heard loud and clear all the way. Whenever his jet had landed, it was soon followed by another jet carrying two U.S. officials with a handcuffed black hardcase. It contained official dossiers and press clippings exposing Osho as a hardlined criminal any country had best getting rid of. The sooner the better. In Europe Italy, Germany, England, Holland, Switzerland and Greece were officially closed for him; also in Arlanda Airport in Stockholm armed police rejected his entry to Sweden.
While Osho was settling for a while in Punta del Este outside of Montevideo, Uruguay, a motion was introduced into the political committee of the European Parliament in Strasbourg, France. The motion, which was introduced by twelve leading members of the Parliament’s secondmost influential party, the right-wing Christian Democrats, called on ministers "meeting in the framework of European political cooperation to do their utmost to ensure that the Bhagwan Leader is no longer allowed to settle in any Community Member State,” and it further expected all member states "to take measures provided for in their legal systems to prevent his [Osho] residence on their territory.” Anyway the resolution died in committee, but at that time the above mentioned countries had already on their own, or so it might appear to an outstander, taken steps never to allow Osho within their borders. For entering these countries his speeches, his manners and — not the least — the U.S. influence together gave the rationale for the exclusion.
At the very time in April 1986 when the Uruguayan government was getting ready to announce the granting of permanent residency for Osho, President Sanguinetti was called by the American Ambassador Malcolm Wilkey. Conditions for an Uruguayan state loan on $ 6 billion was to be tightened up if the residency permit was forwarded. Answering his "But, why?” the President was read from a CIA report by the ambassador: "Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh is a highly intelligent man. He is very dangerous. He is an anarchist. He has the power to change men’s minds.” By June 19th Osho was invited to leave Uruguay, and after stopovers on Jamaica and in Portugal Osho finally reached New Delhi on July 30th 1986. After being expelled from 21 countries.
Back in Poona from January 1987 Osho commented on his experiences being in custody, and medical specialists from England and Japan suggested that he had taken thalium and had been exposed to radioactivity. Over the next two years his health steadily deteriorated and at least on three occasions he nearly died. Having his teeth removed in the summer of 1989, from that time on he only took food in liquid form. All disabilities turned out to be in the right side of the body. In his favorite sleeping position this side would turn against the mattress. Also in Oklahoma County Jail.
On January 19th 1990 some said Osho left his body. Others said his body left him. Earlier in the day he had one last time repeated the story of his poisoning in the hands of the U.S. Marshals in Oklahoma City and said that ever since his arrest and incarceration living in his body had been hell.
The amount of governmental energy invested in this case is definitely not a surprise to those who are acquainted with the words and ideas of Osho. Acknowledging his spiritual approach and its potential the government could hardly act otherwise. Maybe act smarter in the cover up, but not otherwise. Not if the alliance with the Vatican was to be taken seriously.
Brecher’s breathtaking documentary is based on a research method familiar with Bernstein’s story on the ties between the pope and the Reagan administration. During the year 1989 primary research material was procured by interviewing sixty informants, among them most officials involved in the case. Needless to say some keypersons — nine — refused to participate. But that did not impede the unveiling of a high level conspiracy, orchestrated in tuned harmony with the most sincere interests of the Roman-Catholic Church.
The book was finished already in 1989 but for certain reasons 20-30 publishing companies mainly in the West were approached without result. In India Motilal Banarsidass Publishers accepted the manuscript for publishing in 1991 but later happened to cancel the agreement. Somehow corresponding with the Indian government’s actual efforts to rebuild goodwill with the U.S. at that time. The launching of the book by Book Quest Publishers in Bombay 1993 for certain reasons did not trigger off any reviews in Western press. In an interview in Poona, India, on August 30th 1996, Max Brecher was summing up the stunning result of his fact-finding research: "With a certainty on 98% Edwin Meese — and with him Reagan — was involved as promotor of the operation. But all clues were blocked at the level right below him in the administration”.

Pierre Evald
Pierre Evald, Senior Lecturer, Research in LIS, Library Consultant.
The Royal School of Library and Information Science.
4, Langagervej, Aalborg +st.
Phone: +45 98 15 79 22.
Fax: +45 98 15 10 42.
Home Address: Museumsstien 8, 9990 Skagen.
Phone: +45 98 44 33 34. Fax: +45 98 44 33 34
E-mail: [email protected] /

The Blue Boy Sannyasin

Fali Heerjee (FH) born : 1944 , hails from a small community, the Parsis or Zoroastrians, fire-worshippers whose well-conceived triad of principles : good thoughts, good words, good deeds is something that finds its application in daily life, certainly among the good-hearted in the flock.

A little over 1300 years ago, these believers of the Prophet Zarathustra in Persia facing persecution in a predominantly Islamic land fled in sailing boats to land on the Western Coast of India. An interesting anecdote surrounds their first appearance on the Indian west coast. When the King of the West Coastal province in India asked to know who these handsome boat people were, as there was no language in common to further communication — sign language came into play. And this is exactly what happened, the head of the Zoroastrian delegation tried in whatever way he could, ask the King’s representative permission to live in the land. The King’s representative naturally said he needed to consult with the King on this and returned bearing a glass of milk (full to the brim); one more drop, and it would surely overflow. The Zoroastrian head priest in the group being sugar-tongued had by no accident, a sachet of sugar on his person which he proceeded to sprinkle on the glass of milk and in doing so, demonstrated that while the milk hadn’t overflowed it only turned sweeter. That in sum was the contribution of these Zoroastrian people to the King’s land. As it was mainly Zoroastrian men who had survived the arduous sea-journey, they intermarried with Indian women and hence a new community was born : the Parsis.
It is to the credit of the Parsi community, that while they number under a 100,000 in the world today, they have the largest charities and are public-spirited philanthropists. Demographically too, the Parsis have contributed to the finer fabric of society, in a manner of speaking. The country’s best known professionals: doctors, lawyers, architects, musicians, scientists, business tycoons are all drawn from this small community.
Fali Heerjee’s (FH) own father’s forbears were Parsis settled in the southern-most state of India on the West Coast : Kerala. This was a most unlikely choice of location for Parsis of that day to make. FH’s grandfather was a big businessman who bestrode the commercial centers of Alleppey and Calicut. He ran several businesses successfully and also ran the only soda factory and department store in Calicut in those times. FH’s grandmother’s family the Narielwallas* ran a hotel, as also a coconut and coir business. Typically, Parsis surnames are derived either from the town or province they hail from, or, their family businessess or professions. In keeping with this surnames as Lawyer, Engineer, Reporter, Poonawalla or Khandalawalla are recognizably Parsis ! FH’s father had a sizeable family estate a little outside Calicut in a place called Chevayur. They bore the title of Rajas of Chevayur — this was probably the only instance in post-independence history where Parsis were titled in the manner of Hindu royalty. Pesi Heerjee, FH’s father moved to Bombay in the early 40s. An energetic and enterprising man, he was given the honour of being the control stockist for Tata Iron & Steel Co. (a mammoth Company in the present day). He published his own magazine TRADES INDIA, promoted the first of two Indian owned airlines, the Mistry Airlines. Not just this, he also owned a football team, rated among the best in country; and even owned a shipyard in Sewri (Bombay) to build the first mechanised Indian ship, calling it ZARATHUSTRA. The duly pampered young Fali remembers having his birthday parties hosted on the ‘family tub’ where other tots were taken out on cruises. Coupled with this privileged lifestyle was a flurry of public exposure. At age three, the pudgy Fali kicked off the Rover’s Cup Football’s Derby at the Cooperage Stadium, Bombay. ‘Snowball’ was FH’s first pony given to him on his third birthday.
FH’s mother belonged to the Heeramaneck family in Bombay, owners of a string of textile mills. The textile business or mill made cotton cloth collapsed in the wake of national fervour prompted by Mahatma Gandhi who advocated the spinning and wearing of hand-made ‘khadi’. A historical montage of all mill-made cloth being bonfired on the sands of Chowpatty (Bombay) was something that was imprinted on the inward eye on anyone that saw that sight in the early half of the century. The textile plants defunct, all that the Heeramanecks were left with was their ancestral art collection.
FH’s maternal grandmother Mancherji Heeramaneck who had three sons, reviewing the family situation sent his oldest to Europe, the second to America and the third stayed back in India. Nasli, the second one who was propelled by his family to America, had an important role — the family art treasurers had given him a fortuitous purpose in life and he spent his years there disseminating his experience and expertise in the field of art trading far and wide. Nasli, in many ways symbolised the classic example of being at the right place at the right time. Those were years in America when all the oil, automobile and industrial fortunes were being made. Nasli who had shaped into a very astute art collector had a policy. For instance, if he was buying five pieces of art, he’d sell three and keep for himself two of the best and by the time this man, the true aesthete died in 1970, it is said he had arguably one of the finest art collections in private hands. FH was sent to America to train under the expert eye of his illustrious uncle, Nasli. It fell on the young Fali’s shoulders to help find homes for the various collections in appropriate museums in the U.S. It was his uncle’s wish that America being the country that gave him his break in life, these collections remain undistributed and housed under one roof in the various museums, whose collections he spent years nuturing. And accordingly, today the collections are to be seen in the Los Angeles County Museum, the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, the Cleveland and Seattle Museums of the U.S. The collections are grouped in categories. Byzantine, Ancient Near Eastern, Pre-Columbian, Primitive African, American Indian, South East Asian, etc. The Pre-Columbian Collection has been gifted to the National Museum in New Delhi to commemorate the name of FH’s grandfather Muncherji, Heeramaneck.
FH in his early 20s, fired as any youngman to do his bit for his country moved into what can loosely be called a quasi-political sphere. A turning point was the Chinese aggression in India (1962) when he came in contact with Shri. Ashok Mehta, the renowned sociolist-economist who cast a kindly eye on the young Heerjee. Politicians were no strangers to the Heerjee family and the young FH threw himself into youth politics, was soon elected treasurer of the Youth Congress and caught the eye of the then President of the Indian National Congress, Mrs. Indira Gandhi.

1970 : Osho, who was then still known as Bhagwan Shri Rajneesh (BSR) had made Bombay his base in the early 70s and lived a few doors down from FH. At the time, Brij Mohan Thapar, an industrialist friend of FH’s from New Delhi said that they’d heard a lot about BSR’s startling knowledge on the Hindu Scriptures and his oratory skills, and suggested they both meet BSR together. As it happened, FH had an old friend in the Raj Kumar, or Prince, Harpal Dev of Limbdi who was a regular at BSR’s residence, Woodlands, Peddar Road, Bombay. This was organised and FH was introduced to BSR’s then Secretary, Ma Yog Laxmi. Now, she was a small woman with the most expressive face, big, bright, eager eyes; clad in ochre with the same colour of cloth serving as a scarf around the head. An appointment was fixed for the next day, at forenoon. At the time — the three men were the only occupants for an unbroken and magical 45 mins in the room. A simple, yet extraordinary meeting was thus conducted, the intimacy of which becomes hard to conceive, given that just a few years later, BSR’s followers swelled, grew in multitudes infact, where such a meeting for a first timer was well-neigh impossible.
Around 1974, as word about BSR spread, people from the world over started flocking at the gates. The Bombay apartment outgrew the numbers waiting to see him. Ma Yog Laxmi (MYL) then made a trip to Poona to find suitable and of course larger premises. While she was being shown around the grounds of No. 17 Koregaon Park, (now christened Krishna House) an unripe almond fell on her toe. It was a sign from existence. She knew at once this was the spot existence had ordained the first brick be laid. Equally miraculous was the way how all adjoining plots, one by one, fell vacant for the Osho Foundation to acquire. It is to be borne in mind, that Koregaon Park, Poona comprises just 4 lanes designed by the British in far gentle times as a ‘park residence’; the bye-laws framed in 1922, which, amazingly apply to this day. The land laws stipulate that each property must be a minimum of an acre, a one storey residence with garage and an outhouse. It has to be mentioned that this is an area where a few elite, former princes and other honorary princes, i.e. the Parsis have summer residences sprinkling the area with an aura like no other area for a full square mile in India. And most importantly, their treasured properties are certainly not up for sale. Despite these factors, the Osho Foundation had all the luck providentially, in finding 40 hectares, pieces of land closely hugging one another to facilitate the growth of a lush sprawling headquarters — as seen today. After BSR moved to Koregaon Park in 1974, FH set about renewing contact with a few friends he had in the Commune or Ashram, as it was then called. On one such evening, waiting to meet Ma Prem Divya (an American sannyasin friend) he caught a glimpse of Ma Yog Laxmi sitting in her office behind a wide glass panelling. With her, at the time was another sannyasin, Fali Chinoy — a relative of the young Fali Heerjee. Fali (Sr,) on espying Fali (Jr.) outside the office, mentioned to MYL to ask him in largely because the Fali (Jr.) was well connected with officialdom in Bombay and would be helpful in coordinating all the odds and ends that had to be met in solidifying a now prodigiously growing establishment in Poona.
Pursuing the odd job was for FH the start of a full time engagement with the Ashram, which is popularly referred to now as : Poona-I.
Returning to the earlier seance in this account, FH was called in by MYL, who exclaimed : "Ah ! so you’re the blue boy !” ‘Blue boy’, or FH looked quizzical. MYL went on "When you’d come to meet BSR, in Bombay, you were wearing a blue safari suit,” and continued, saying, "when you get enlightened, your aura turns blue.” So the sobriquet stuck. FH remembers : "My responsibilities grew.” There were problems with foreigners’ visas, building permissions with the municipality; the local police force and collector’s officers had also to be visited fairly regularly to smooth things over. A certain kind gentleman by the name Khadilkar, minister in the Central Cabinet, and Guardian Minister from Poona spoke to the concerned authorities in Poona to ensure a relative smooth rolling on of the Ashram’s growth at both the state and local level.
By now, it became obvious that a certain amount of intervention at the Central level would also help and it was decided with BSR’s blessings that FH take MYL to New Delhi and introduce her and the ashram’s work to the powers that were, formidable figures, including Mrs. Indira Gandhi, the Prime Minister.
An appointment was sought in New Delhi. As was customary with MYL, whenever she went to meet anybody she took along BSR’s books and tapes as presents. At the meeting with Mrs. Gandhi — the Prime Minister, a keen reader, picked out one of the books from the pile that was placed there — and the volume fell open to a page : Neither This Nor That, her own favourite Zen story. It was no small comfort then to the representatives of the ashram to find Mrs. Gandhi not just very communicable but also rather well-disposed towards BSR and his work.
In the year 1977 after the all-powerful Mrs. Gandhi had lifted the state of Emergency (imposed on the Indian Union) and had announced elections, she fared very badly at the polls. The peoples wrath was reflected in the action of voting her out of power. A couple of days after the election results were declared — FH and MYL happened to be in New Delhi. FH phoned Mrs.Gandhi’s residence in the morning to make an appointment to see her. Immediately granted, this one happened on the way to the airport. Shattered, despondent and noticeably swollen eyed, as if sleepless, this is what she expressed: for those two traumatic days and nights it was only Osho’s books and tapes that had kept her and her family gang. FH wasted no time in phoning MYL from the airport requesting her to leave a few other Osho books at Mrs. Gandhi’s residence. These acts of kindness were never forgotten by Mrs. Gandhi and only helped in cementing the bond between New Delhi and the Ashram at the time. The man who became Prime Minister following the Congress debacle was Morarji Desai (MD), a rather severe man with a marked antagonism towards Osho and his followers.
Now MD was an old and close friend of the Heerjee family especially FH’s mother, Piloo Heerjee and was rather fond of FH — and always had a place for him in his affections.
In June 1977, it was detected that FH’s mother had cancer and owing to the fact that she had done a therapy group with a visting Filippino healer, Leelananda at the ashram, she had her mind made up not to submit herself to conventional surgery. Her succour was to come from the psychic faith — healing process. FH accompanied his mother on this trip to the Philippines. The day before they had their flight out from Delhi to Manila the mother and son duo called on Morarji Desai speaking about the ashram and their own involvement there. Both MD and his life long associate and secretary, Tompe were quite surprised at the Heerjee family’s connection with the commune. Still, MD had agreed to meeting MYL. MYL however, chose not to pursue this and thought MD was to be tackled differently. Six months lapsed and as a consequence, relations between MD and BSR deteriorated. In any event, the MD govt. didn’t last too long (77-79). Fortunately for the ashram, Mrs. Gandhi was back at the helm of affairs and things were on an even keel. Around this time, MYL sensed that with the rate of growth of the ashram a lot more land was needed in the city of Poona. To facilitate this, FH went to meet the then Chief Minister of Maharashtra, Vasantdada Patil (VDP) to request for a piece of land suitable for the Commune’s work and its expansion. At the aforesaid meeting with VDP, FH persuaded VDP to visit the ashram on his next visit to Poona. Shortly after VDP kept his promise, visited the ashram accompanied by a whole entourage of the Poona district collector, police commissioner, muncipal commissioner. Once again, a better understanding and rapport was effected. For the officials, seeing was believing ....... dispelling almost immediately the erroneously held vox populi view that the ashram was an anti-national den of vice and worse. Anti-ashram feelings among the populace subsided as the official stand on the ashram was conveyed.
In MYL’s quest for more space interest was shown in two properties outside of Poona. These were : the Maharaja of Patiala’s summer residence in Chail in picturesque Himachal Pradesh in the North, as also the Maharana of Kutch’s beach palace in Mandvi Gujarat (MYL’s ancestors belonged to this region).It was on one such occasion when MYL was out of Poona visiting Chail that her own secretary, Ma Ananda Sheela, who became BSR’s acting secretary in MYL’s absence convinced BSR to leave Poona for reasons of his frail health. So it was westward ho ! BSR acting on the advice, one fine morning, upped and left for America. The rest is history.
One evening at darshan in the days when darshan and sannyas was conducted at Lao Tsu House Terrace to a few by appointment and even questions were allowed, the question of sannyas for FH came up. Those were days when initiated sannyasins were required to wear an orange robe and beaded mala (necklace).
FH had discussed this earlier with MYL saying that since his work entailed interacting with officialdom constantly, his wearing orange may not go down well with them — they were bound to be prejudiced. Anyway, Osho did say reassuringly : "Fali, you are a sannyasin and for my work, I feel it is better that you are not in orange.” A bit later the urge in FH arose to take sannyas, and MYL on consulting with Osho had decided upon a celebration day for this. FH himself is fuzzy about which one of the celebration days this was to have happened , whether Osho’s Birthday, enlightenment Day or Guru Poornima. It was decided before Osho came out for darshan that FH be taken to his bedroom and given sannyas. As it happened, due to a severe traffic jam on the Bombay-Poona Highway he didn’t get to the ashram on time. The next day, MYL queried FH as to what had happened. After she was told about the hold-up in FH’s getting there on time, she simply said "Do you know what your sannyas name was going to be. It was Swami Zarathustra.”

Osho was an almost meaningless word when I arrived in Pune. Although I had come specifically to spend time in his commune, I scarcely knew who he was — something vague about a lot of Rolls Royces and some scandal in the 1980s, a guru who had defended the right to enjoy sex, perhaps? The friend whose evocation of life in the commune had inspired me to come had, rather wisely, steered almost entirely clear of references to its founder.
As far as I was concerned, I was headed for a sort of spiritual holiday camp with potentially interesting therapies — which seemed a good idea for one as stuck in her personal life as I, and as sorely in need of reconnecting with her heart. I knew there would be plenty of opportunities for meditation, but it was the fact that this could apparently be practised while dancing, singing or painting that particularly caught my fancy, as, for years I had longed to spend my days doing all three, but never seemed to find time in the West.
The commune’s greatest selling point however, was undoubtedly its location in India, a land which has exerted a profound attraction over me since early childhood. On top of everything else, here was a place in India where I could, I was told, indulge in fresh fruits and salads and, joy of joys, a coriander/cumin/coconut paste-free diet (my great love of Indian culture has, sadly, never extended to several key elements of its cuisine).
Where more ‘spiritual’ matters were concerned, I was primed about the maroon robes, but I readily warmed to the idea of them on aesthetic grounds, never worrying, as some of my more cautious friends did when I casually mentioned my maroon future, about any significance they might have. I don’t now recall whether I had any prior inkling of the extent of Osho’s continuing video and audio presence, but I do know that one of my strongest earliest impressions was of his — at first practically incomprehensible — voice booming out around the commune.
Almost more impressive, in these early days, were the extraordinary pregnant pauses which constituted such a large proportion of his speech. An early distraction was to count the seconds between his words during White-Robe.
Once I had triumphantly got up to 10 in one particularly momentous pause, I grew tired of this game, and, when the vaguely fetishistic echoes in the nightly chair ritual had also ceased to make much impact on me, I settled down to engage more openly with the discourse.
I was increasingly fascinated by the man, mesmerised by his beautiful hands, which somehow struck me as unexpected — I don’t know what preconceptions I was carrying to make this so, but they surprised me. I was often forcefully hit too by the implacable, inescapable nature of almost all his pronouncements on the human condition. Like some other ‘spiritual’ things I had come across in my vague but persistent seeking, his words resonated with that part of me that has always recognised certain deeper truths, the kind which brook no argument, however much you might long to push them away.
Despite this inner echo, I was amusedly bemused to find myself — I, who had been brought up an ardent atheist by my radical rationalist father, and taught to bow down before no-one and nothing — surrounded by this white-robed reverence for a video-virtual human being with such idiosyncratic pronunciation of my mother tongue and such bizarre taste in raiment. All the more bewildering that this reverence was experienced by such manifestly intelligent individuals.
The conversations of these individuals also alarmed me at first — their pidgin English so peppered with such keywords as ‘mindfuck’, ‘energies’, ‘no mind’ and ‘in the moment’. They all seemed to be aware of aspects of reality and of themselves I simply wasn’t able to perceive, and so relentlessly positive about everything. I longed for a ‘normal’ conversation, a light grumble or two, a bit of good old rational analysis and meaningless chatter. Could all these people really be so evolved because of this man’s influence and their love for him and his for them?
As I was seduced again and again every day by the indescribable beauty of the commune and its well-groomed jungle setting, as I took part in its groups and meditations, I lost whatever mistrust I may once have felt, sloughing it off as I effortlessly shed any sense of inevitability about my returning to my old life in the West. I longed to be smitten by the strange quiet bliss I sometimes sensed in the soft atmosphere of the commune — even the swan, spending hours of every day gazing at its reflection in a conveniently placed mirror, seemed light years ahead of me in its ability to pick up these vibes. I yearned to become one with this beautiful alternative way of living which had suddenly opened up in my life. It was as though I had always dreamed of living this way but never dared hope a place might exist in the real world which could help me to do so.
And yet, here it is, because Osho willed it so, and I am infinitely grateful for the fact. And spending far longer than I originally intended in the commune, because I love it here, even though I still usually feel as much an exile from my inner self as all those hundreds of shoes abandoned outside Buddha Hall must feel in relation to their owners meditating away on the inside. Or perhaps that image should be the other way around. Then I can say also that my inner self seems to me to be about as lost as those shoes paranoiacally concealed by their over-cautious owners in the jungle undergrowth around the hall... and as hard to find.
Of all the more esoteric events those abandoned shoes were missing inside Buddha Hall, sannyas celebrations were certainly, for me, the most alienating for the first six weeks or so. I would go along most weeks, at first purely out of curiosity, like taking a dip in alien waters, in order to experience full-on the gulf between my own nature and the alien climate.
At the same time, my cold indifference disappointed me hugely — I was always hoping for the miracle that might plug me into the joy I sensed around me.
It was Milarepa and his music which finally provided the magic, I believe, as I had become familiar with his songs and enjoyed singing them. When he performed live at the celebration I at last felt something of that joy and suddenly found myself, to my surprise, able to imagine myself going up to the front to receive sannyas — an unthinkable thought up until that moment.
That night, I dreamed that someone was taking sannyas and I felt extreme envy towards that person and the sense that it should have been myself. The next week I checked to see if I still felt the same at the celebration and, when I did, I felt I could go ahead in reasonably good faith.
Although, after three months, I cannot claim to have had any major ‘breakthroughs’, the space I am now in is a world away from the one I was stuck in when I arrived here — far freer and more open. Sadly, my particular demons have so far proved cunningly resistant to any kind of direct approach to them — either through groups or through meditation. And yet, even I feel, at times, that Osho is watching me, pushing me gently in the right direction, strewing the odd sign along my way. Occasionally I have even felt what a more confident person might call his love — certainly I have found it easier to forgive myself and move on here than I have ever done anywhere else, feeling the presence of a greater understanding and forgiveness than my own around me. It is things like this that make me hope my life with Osho is only just beginning.

Shashi, UK

For the past two and a half years I have been freelancing as a journalist specialised in travel and fine arts. Prior to that I was travel and fine arts editor for ‘The European’ (a now defunct newspaper). This followed six years in Paris acquiring a not-so-useful doctorate on 20th century art and its reference to occult philosophy and magic — though the latter aspects of it probably did help push me a little along my way towards Pune — as well as translating books, teaching English and working as a fine arts journalist. (My future is wide open...)

World Teacher
An interview with the Tibetan Lama, His Holiness Lama Karmapa

In 1972, Swami Govind Siddharth visited the Monastery of the Tibetan Lama, His Holiness Lama Karmapa in Darjeeling. When he arrived, accompanied by his wife and two young daughters, the monastery was completely closed. He told, in an interview, of his disappointment at not meeting the Karmapa. Then all of a sudden, one lama came out to tell him that he was immediately wanted inside by His Holiness. He went in and was greeted by him as if he was expected there. His Holiness never even knew anything about him beforehand, as he had never made any appointment... he never knew anything about him except that he was in sannyasin’s dress. About His Holiness, he is said to be a ‘Divine Incarnation’. In Tibet, they believe that whosoever attains to buddhahood, to enlightenment, if by their own wishes they are born again to help people in the world, then they are divine incarnations — bodhisatvas. His Holiness is said to be the sixteenth incarnation of Dsum Khyenpa, the first Karmapa, who was born about 1110 AD. He is descended from the chain of master going back to Marpa, one of Tibet’s great yogis.
When Swami Siddharth first entered, the Karmapa immediately told him that he knew where he was coming from. He said, "I am seeing that you have somewhere some photograph or something which is printed on two sides, of your master.” Swami Siddharth answered that he had nothing like that which is printed on two sides. He had completely forgotten about the locket hanging from his mala of Osho’s photograph on both sides! There was an English woman who was acting as an interpreter since the Lama Karmapa does not know English. She immediately saw his mala and said, "What is this?” He then remembered that the locket was printed on two sides and he said, "This is the photograph of my master.” She was curious to see it, so Siddharth took it off and showed it to her. Immediately, His Holiness said, "That is it.”
He took the locket of Osho in his hand and he touched it to his forehead and then said: He is the greatest incarnation since Buddha in India — he is a living Buddha!” His Holiness went on to say, "You may be feeling that he is speaking for you, but it is not only for you that he speaks. Osho speaks for the Akashic records also, the records of events and words recorded on the astral planes. Whatever is spoken is not forgotten. That is why you will find that he goes on repeating things and you will feel that he is doing this for you, but as a matter of fact, he speaks only for a few people. Only a few people realize who Osho is. His words will remain there in Akashic records, so that they will also be helpful to people of the future.”
His Holiness went on to say that Osho was with them in past lives. "If you want to see one of Osho’s previous incarnations — who he was in Tibet — you can go to Tibet and see his golden statue there which is preserved in the Hall of Incarnations.”
He went on to say that about Osho and his work, "My blessings are always there, and I know that whatever we are not going to be able to do to help others, Osho will do.” The main aim of the lamas in coming to India was to preserve their occult sciences. Osho also confirmed this in his Kashmir lectures given in 1969. The Dalai Lama has not escaped only to save himself, but to save the Tibetan religion, the meditation secrets and the occult sciences. "We have gotten these things from India in the past, and now we want to return them back. Now we have come to know that here is an incarnation, Osho, who is doing our job in India and the world and we are very happy about it. The world will know him, but only a few people will realize what he actually is. He will be the only person who can guide properly, who can be a World Teacher in this age, and he had taken birth only for this purpose.”

Ma Prem Jeevan

Welcoming the 17th Lama Karmapa
Letter to the Media, which was published in The Asian Age
and some other newspapers on 14th of January, 2000

India should welcome the arrival of the 17th Lama Karmapa, the 14-year old boy monk. There’s no question of any political asylum. For the boy monk it’s just a home-coming. India is the origin and the birth-place of the Buddha. All the spirituality that pervades Tibet or China has roots in India. Roots always nourish the whole tree. China should stop preaching Panchsheel to India as they have been suppressing everything that has something to do with meditation and spirituality. Otherwise what was the need of the Dalai Lama to escape Tibet and come to India 41 years ago? India should not behave cowardly and tell China what it really stands for: Vasudhaiv Kutumbakam. Indian spirituality, nourished by all the sages of India down the centuries recognizes this whole earth, this vasudha, as one. India has given shelter to all the seekers of truth and will continue to do so. It is not in the hands of seasonal politicians — across both sides of the borders — to decide such eternal values that sustain the spiritual climate of this eastern region. Osho reminds us that India is not merely a piece of land or part of geography. India is much more — a unique birthplace of enlightened souls who gave the One World vision to whole humanity — the vision of a world without borders. Politicians may not understand this vision but the milieu and climate of this country knows this. It is the very breath of this country.
It is insulting to use the term "asylum” for the monk. The world takes refuge in Buddha and Dhamma and not the vice-versa. Have you forgotten "Buddham Sharanam Gachchhamai, Dhammam Sharanam Gachchhami”? So take refuge in Dhamma and not give "asylum” to Dhamma.
There’s no need to register the Karmapa as a refugee. The Buddhas need no registration. Drop that so-called "mandatory process” and a registration certificate. Such things should be used for criminals and not for Buddhas. It is being said that "India seems obviously embarrassed.” There’s no need to feel embarrassed. India should remember and become aware of its spirit — it’s not an embarrassment. It’s something glorious and to feel proud of. In such rare moments, India can provide the leadership of the INNER DIMENSION to the whole world. And remember, it’s not something political, it’s spiritual — as spirituality is universal and knows no borders.

Swami Chaitanya Keerti

Meeting With The Master

I arrived in Bombay on the morning of 4th September, 1971. I had 5 rupees in my pocket. A taxi is too expensive so I took a bus and went to Jeevan Jagruti Kendra to find out Osho’s residential address. The office boy, Balkrishna directed us to ‘A-1 Woodlands Apartments, Peddar Road’ and told me how to get there by bus. At the entrance to the apartment there is a notice board saying that Meeting Times with Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh were from 9.30 to 11.00am and 2.30 to 4.00pm. I arrived too late for the morning meeting, so I waited around and returned at 2.30 p.m. for my first meeting with the Master. I entered the apartment and introduced myself to his secretary, Ma Yoga Laxmi, who was sitting at the reception desk. There were a few cheerful sannyasins sitting nearby laughing and having fun.
I asked Laxmi if she could arrange a time for me to meet Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh.
"Have you heard his discourses?” she asked.
"I have been reading his books.” I replied.
"Then it would be better,” she said if you first attended his discourses in the Patkar Hall, before coming for Darshan.”
"No,” I replied, I have read his books and feel ready to see him right away. There is no need for me to wait for some days.”
"No,” she retorted, "you can’t see him right away.”
But I was determined that I should see him there and then, so I just sat there and waited. "Who is this secretary who is preventing me from seeing him?” I kept asking myself. "When he comes out of his room I will catch him.”
I waited until 4 o’ clock. The afternoon meeting was over. Then suddenly I had an idea.
"Please give me a note-pad,” I said to Laxmi. "I will write him a note to read.”
Laxmi gave me a note-pad and I wrote this to him in Hindi:
"Bhagwan Shree I have come from so far away and there was no problem. Now I am sitting here and you are sitting there — a few yards away. What are these walls between us? What is this distance? Why I have come, I can’t express — I won’t be able to express. I have come — this is my expression.”
I am unable to remember the exact words.
Laxmi took the message in without reading it, and very quickly returned saying, "He is calling you. Just go into that room.”
Now! The full stop to all the struggle! I was so used to the mind struggling and keep saying, "No.” I was used to it. But the mind doesn’t know how to react to a positive invitation that comes like a lightning. The mind simply stops. To me it seemed the right thing for the mind to stop before one going in to see the Master.
In that state — something the mind and no-mind I took a few steps nearer the room where the Master was sitting. Laxmi had not accompanied me. Very softly I opened the door.
The Master sitting there in his revolving chair. There is a glass wall behind him, the sun is shining and He is aglow. The chair is simple and small. He is sitting in it, but he is really all over the room. The empty room is filled, vibrating with His glowing presence. GRACE is all there is — nothing else.
Looking at me He says softly, in a flower-like voice, "Chale Aao, Chale Aao! Main tumhara intezar kar raha tha.”("Come in! come in! Come, I was waiting for you.”)
It feels as if there is something within me has already reached him and surrendered at his feet. Very softly I take a few steps, go close to him and sit there with my head bending down looking at his feet.
"Kaise Aana Hua?” I hear him say softly. "What brought you here?”
I was looking down, unable to speak.
He asked the question again : "Kaise Aana Hua?”
I felt as if I should be saying something. In the train I had been thinking of all the things I would be asking him. But now, what happened to all those things? Where were all my questions?
Mustering all my courage, I answered: "I have come to be with you”
"Here! With Me!”
There is a long pause. Then the Master laughs — I hear this laugh so loud as if filling the whole cosmos.
Then he says, "Oh you want to take Sannyas?”
"Yes,” I replied, "whatever the way to be with you......”
"Have you any responsibilities at home?” he asked.
"No, none,” I said, ‘Forget about my home.’
After asking me questions about my education and listening to my reply he called Madhu through the intercom:
"Madhu, mala lao.” ("Madhu, bring a mala.”)
He turned and took up his paper. I looked up at him, but immediately looked down as he turned back, and looking towards me. Suddenly Madhu was there with a mala. He takes it, and garlands my neck saying:
"I give you a new name, Swami Chaitanya Keerti.”
He introduces me to Ma Anand Madhu. She was coordinating the Kirtan Mandali that was due to leave the next day, travelling around Gujarat, and arriving the following month at Mount Abu for the next meditation camp.
"You join this group, sing and dance with this group and we will meet in Mount Abu next month,” he said.
I go to Ma Madhu to touch her feet.
"You touch only his feet.” She says.
Then after Osho has told Madhu to fetch me orange clothes I leave with her and was given instructions on how to find the Kirtan Mandali. Ma Laxmi welcomes me with a cup of chai (tea). I knew that now that I had been accepted and blessed by the Master that I was looking a different person. With the mala around my neck, my eyes had an otherworldly glow.
I remember a poem to describe something of the experience:
Amazing grace!
How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see.
Utterly thrilled and blessed I came out of the Woodland Apartment and found the whole of Bombay celebrating... dum dum dum loud drum-beats. People were carrying Lord Ganesha idols and there were processions after processions — very crazy and very colourful.
I found myself dancing with them — I had met the ultimate in human form and my happiness knew no bounds. I was not a dancer. I was a very serious person. Osho had filled me a new consciousness that made me dance — an unknown dance. And the journey of dance had begun.
Chaitanya means consciousness and Keerti means glory. Keerti also has something to do with Kirtan which is essentially singing and dancing. In Kirtan we sing and dance the glory of your favourite gods, as Meera did, or as Chaitanya Mahaprabhu did. My name means singing and dancing the glory of consciousness — in simple terms, meditate and celebrate!
I heard that by this time about 500 people had been initiated into Osho’s Neo-Sannyas. However half of them were still called Sadhus and Sadhavis, because they had not shown courage to wear orange at that time. They were not ready to change their social structure of family life. Once they had taken the jump they were ready to wear orange clothes. After that their name would be prefixed by Swami and Ma. This was their first step towards Sannyas — a very calculated step.
One graceful Sindhi Ma Bhagwati took me to the Kirtan group, where about one dozen sannyasins were staying. On the way she bought me samosas (an Indian snack) and gave me her best wishes for my new journey.
A few months later I came to know that she was dead. Though we had a very fleeting meeting, I remember her sweetness to this day. Sweet moments have a way of staying with us always. Ma Bhagwati took me to Swami Chaitanya Bharti, the leader of Kirtan Mandali. I touched his feet we got acquainted with each other and also the rest of the sannyasins of the group. Next morning we are supposed to begin our tour in the chosen cities of Gujarat, the state which is full of Osho lovers and friends.
Osho had travelled in this state widely and people were influenced by Osho both positively and negatively: negatively because Osho had criticised Gandhiji. His criticism was really disturbing because to the Gujaratis and to some extent the rest of India, Gandhiji was not only the father of the nation but worshipped as God also. Every politician exploited the name of Gandhi and everything happened in the name of Gandhi.
Osho wanted people not to become the blind followers of Gandhi or any other great man, as it is against the dignity of an individual. Osho says that common people commit small mistakes and great men commit great mistakes. Gandhiji also commited great mistakes, and it would be disastrous for the nation to follow him blindly. We can see people have been doing so and India has remained poor and suffered tremendously.
Osho provokes people to think afresh, he shocks them with his statements — sometimes really outrageous statements. The purpose is to provoke people out of their sleep and make them think — think about all their values, moral, religious, social and political belief — systems and all the hypocrisies that surround them — think about themselves, think about the world we live in... Meditate! And wake up!

(A chapter from: Dancing With The Master)

Swami Chaitanya Keerti

some coments about osho

In our world there are so many philosophers who hold on to different philosophies in their hands. And those hands for centuries have been striking each other and the philosophies negating each other’s logic. And I have seen that it’s only Osho who, detached from all these philosophies, has been propounding that inner experience which is one, whatever and wherever it might be, it is one. And that is the greatest flowering of human conciousness.
I consider Osho the greatest achievement of our age.
Amrita Pritam
The Tribune, October 8, 1988

Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (Osho) is an enlightened master, who is working with all possibilities to help humanity overcome a difficult phase in developing consciousness.
Dalai Lama
At Bodhgaya February 3, 1983

There has never been anyone like him before. It is doubtful whether there will be anyone like him again. Anyone who can turn over two dozen governments against him must have something in him. One suspects it is intellectual honesty of a rare kind. There have been others like him at different times. A Walt Whitman, a Bernard Shaw, a Bertrend Russell, iconoclasts in their own way and with an abundance of talent. But they, even while they paid a certain price, knew where to stop.
Osho pulls all stops. He is freedom without end.
M V Kamath
The Book Review, March 1988

Osho is unquestionably one of the greatest performers of our time— whose true impact, I believe, will be dicovered decades later, when the history of this era will be written.
Pritish Nandy
January 17, 1988

In his latest book, "The New Man: The Only Hope For The Future”, Osho has not only justified his command over worldly matters, but proved that he is the intellectual giant of the 20th century.
The Daily
September 13, 1987

...Osho was a uniquely charismatic phenomenon and a courageous one. He forged an off-beat path to the superconsciousness... He was a refreshing change from the sanctimonious stance adopted often hypocritically by those who chose the life of saffron. He stripped philosophy of cant, Hindusim of holier-than-thouness, threw conventional vehicles of worship out of what was termed the ‘gateless gate’ of his ashram, and enjoined his followers to ‘laugh their way to god’. Not an entirely unacceptable proposition, and we must remember Osho for reminding us of it.
Editorial, The Times Of India
January 22, 1990

Osho felt the pulse of a sick humanity, propagated revolutionary views and naked truths as antidotes. The tragedy lies in the fact that he was more misunderstood. However, in the times to come, whatever he has taught will become more relevant and every word of his achieve greater meaning. Let us bow our heads in respect to the most illustrious "Punekar” of our times — Osho.
Maharashtra Herald
January 26, 1990

Osho was the most original thinker that India has produced: the most erudite, the most clear-headed and the most innovative. And in addition he had in-born gift of words, spoken and written. The like of him we will not see for decades to come... He has to be judged as a thinker, and as a thinker he will rank among the giants.
Khushwant Singh
January 28, 1990

He (Osho) understood us better than we understand ourselves.
Tom Robbins, Seattle Post Intelligencer
January 25, 1990

Osho’s vision is familiar, yet it is as fresh as this moment. In him, we recognise something we knew all along but had forgotten. He is not only the flavour of the new millennium, but a man for all centuries to come.
Subhash Ghai

Our gratitude to the many who have helped in the creation of this book. Among them are:

Ms. Ashvina Vakil
Ma Prem Jeevan
Ma Jivan Mary
Swami Jagdish
Swami Kulbhushan
Swami Neeten
Swami Satya Vedant
Ma Prem Fatima
Ma Shashi
Ma Deva Priya
Mr. Arun Bhabani
Ma Chintamani
Ms. Amruta Shah
Ma Anasha
Ms Vani Dayal
Ma Sivam Suvarna
Swami Veet Kamran
Swami Deva Rashid
Ma Rajeeta
Ma Vistara
Ms Akash Dhramaraj
Ms Vinita Deshmukh
Shri S P Bansal
Shri Narendra ji
back to top