{"id":40847,"date":"2024-07-19T21:02:37","date_gmt":"2024-07-19T17:02:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/?p=40847"},"modified":"2024-07-19T21:02:37","modified_gmt":"2024-07-19T17:02:37","slug":"from-the-motor-safari-in-kenya-to-a-spiritual-safari-in-pune0","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/from-the-motor-safari-in-kenya-to-a-spiritual-safari-in-pune0\/","title":{"rendered":"From the Motor Safari in Kenya to a Spiritual Safari in Pune0"},"content":{"rendered":"

Letter from New Delhi<\/u><\/span><\/p>\n

Kul Bhushan recounts his rugged journey with Osho that began fifty years ago<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

Everything grinds to a halt during the Safari Rally in Kenya. This World Motor Rally Championship event spans four days and showcases top rally drivers from around the world. They navigate 3,000 km of rugged, dirt tracks through the African bush, encountering wild animals along the way. During the 1970s, local newspapers focused almost exclusively on the Safari Rally. For us, the news team of The Nation based in Nairobi, the Safari was both exhilarating and exhausting; we worked well past midnight day after day.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"One night after returning home, I switched on my stereo and played a taped discourse by Osho (then known as Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh). I lay down on the carpet in the pitch dark, listening to his voice and relaxing. To my surprise, in plain Hindi, he remarked that only foolish drivers leave highways to traverse rough tracks solely to boost their egos. What? Was he referring to the Safari Rally in Kenya? Unbelievable! I turned off the stereo, my mind made up: “I have to meet this man, no matter what!”<\/span><\/p>\n

After the Safari concluded, I persuaded my boss to grant me a two-week leave to visit Pune. The first hurdle cleared, but a bigger challenge loomed: lack of funds. I sold my Mercedes. Then came the ordeal of obtaining permission from the Central Bank to buy dollars (no small feat), followed by clearance from the Income Tax department for foreign travel.<\/span><\/p>\n

While tackling this paperwork, I attended a gathering of the local meditation group. Another striking comment hit me when Ma Yog Manju, the group’s organizer, asked, “The boat is ready at the shore, the sails are unfurled, are you coming on board?” “Yes, I am coming,” I resolved.<\/span><\/p>\n

A few days later, accompanied by Ma Manju, I boarded a flight to Bombay en route to Pune. Upon arrival, I discovered that the ashram was simply another bungalow in Koregaon Park. Through a rusted metal gate, a path led to a building where Osho’s secretary, Ma Yog Laxmi, welcomed us with her ever-present smile. It was evident that little had changed in the building since Osho’s arrival on March 21, 1974, three months prior.<\/span><\/p>\n

We were informed of an evening lecture at 7:00 in his residence, Lao Tzu House, a bungalow behind the first one. Upon arrival, we ascended to the first floor, entered a spacious balcony, and silently awaited his arrival. The only furniture on the balcony was a tall yellow executive chair illuminated from above by a spotlight. Around 60 disciples were already seated on the floor; I positioned myself directly in front of the chair, brimming with excitement and anticipation. Soon, darkness enveloped us, the monsoon season prevailing*.<\/span><\/p>\n

Moments later, Osho entered, and a hush fell over the gathering. He greeted each person with a namaste — a folded hands gesture\u2014and an enigmatic smile. “Finally, I am seeing him in person!” I thought to myself. As he settled into his chair, he gazed deeply into my eyes and said, “You have come to me.” I felt elated. “See,” I assured myself, “he knows I’m an editor. He can garner good publicity overseas, which is why he greeted me.” My ego swelled infinitely.<\/span><\/p>\n

But this euphoria lasted only briefly as Osho continued, “You have taken a perilous step. It’s a risk because near me, you can be lost forever. Drawing nearer to me means facing death and nothing else.” “Oh God, where have I landed?” I wondered. The teachings of the Chinese Zen Master Chuang Tzu, in the form of a new series titled ‘The Empty Boat’ in English, had just begun. It was July 10, 1974.<\/span><\/p>\n

Osho elaborated, “I am like an abyss. Coming closer to me, you will fall into me. The invitation has been extended to you. Understand that through me, you won’t gain anything. Through me, you’ll lose everything\u2014because until you are lost, the divine cannot happen; until you vanish completely, the real cannot emerge. You are the barrier.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Oh no, where have I landed?” My mind went blank for much of the discourse. Yet, he continued, “And you are so much, so stubbornly much, so filled with yourself that nothing can penetrate you. Your doors are closed. When you disappear, when you cease to exist, the doors open. Then, you become like the vast, infinite sky. That is your nature. That is Tao.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Tao? What\u2019s that? I had no idea. And who was this Chinese master Chuang Tzu anyway? And an \u2018empty boat\u2019? What did that mean? As his discourses progressed, I began to learn more about this Chinese master, a completely new world unfolding before me\u2014a profound discovery.<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course, I also desired a personal interview. So, the next morning, I returned to Laxmi’s office and requested an appointment. She asked me to wait and suggested I engage in meditation in the meantime. I vividly recall participating in the Whirling Meditation held in a large courtyard under a temporary tent to shield us from the rains. At the back, a huge banner with a painted slogan adorned the space, while local musicians played light Indian classical music for the whirling.<\/span><\/p>\n

Every day, I visited Laxmi, and each time, she smilingly asked me to wait. Finally, one day she said, “Now you can have a ‘darshan’ tomorrow.” I was going to meet Osho in his garden the next morning — on the final day of my stay in India!<\/span><\/p>\n

It was a pleasant sunny morning as we entered the garden, accompanied by Manju and her three teenage children. When we entered the garden, Osho was already there, in a reclining chairWhen it was my turn to speak, he greeted me warmly. I asked for an interview, suggesting it could be distributed to various overseas media outlets for which I wrote. To my surprise, he replied, “No need for an interview. Write what you wish and attribute it to me as if it were from an interview. If it’s questioned, I will handle it.” I was astonished; every person I had interviewed previously insisted on accuracy. Yet here was Osho, granting me unprecedented trust.<\/span><\/p>\n

Osho then proceeded with our personal interview, stating, “You must take sannyas.” He placed a mala around my neck, wrote my sannyas name on a sheet of paper bearing his letterhead, and dated and signed it. My sannyas certificate! The date was July 10, 1974.<\/span><\/p>\n

Upon seeing the blank letterhead, I remarked, “Osho, would you sign a blank letterhead? Could I now write anything on it and implicate you?” He smiled and replied, “Go ahead.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Again, what trust!<\/span><\/p>\n

And thus began my journey\u2014from the Safari Rally in Kenya to a spiritual safari with Osho — an odyssey over sharp bends and rough terrain that commenced fifty years ago and continues to this day.<\/span><\/p>\n

* According to records, the discourses were later moved to the mornings, as seen in photographs.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Anand Kul Bhushan is a writer, journalist, UN media consultant, and workshop\/meditation leader.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 19 July 2024<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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