Darshan: Osho Sannidhya
The memory of the Dwaraka camp thirty-six years ago is still vividly remembered. Morning-evening discourses and meditations on the beach and the silent satsangs in the presence of Acharyashree that I enjoyed the most. Acharyashree says, ‘Words are not such a beautiful medium of expression. People interpret the meaning of words in different ways, that’s why the same word has so many meanings. The most powerful means of truth is silence. Heart-to-heart communication is possible in silence.’
Acharyashree’s silent discourse was held every afternoon from 3 to 4 pm. Acharyashree’s instruction was that everyone should take a bath and sit quietly in their place before the silent discourse begins. Acharyashree used to come to the hall at exactly 3 o’clock. All of us were immersed in silent meditation after seeing his radiant body wrapped in a white lungi and chadar on a chair placed in the middle of the hall. In a white lungi and chadar, it seemed like the swan of Mansarovar was sitting gracefully with its white wings folded. Sitting in his presence, the mind would automatically become introverted and meditative, and a kind of sleepiness would take over as if taking drugs. This state of consciousness between sleep and wakefulness is called yoganidra in Yoga. Osho’s critics would call this “does hypnosis”. But hypnosis cannot happen without saying anything and without moving. It was his samadhi and the magic of his personality that used to bring everyone into deep trance.
I was probably the youngest in the camp. I did not feel like asking Acharyashree for personal time. Once I went out and asked the senior seekers, ‘How can I meet Acharyashree?’ After getting his address, I reached Acharyashree’s room in the beautiful guest house on the shores of the Arabian Sea at 6 o’clock in the morning. There was nothing in the room except a bed and an easy chair. Beautiful gardens and the expanse of the ocean could be seen from the large windows. Acharyashree was in the bathroom. I kept standing there. Just then, the bright morning sun appeared on the ocean horizon. On the other side, Acharyashree, wrapped in a white lungi, entered the room from the bathroom. A well-built blood-colored body, a long black beard, a shining forehead, a mysterious look that pierces the heart. Acharyashree did not get angry seeing this stranger who suddenly arrived in his room without taking any time that morning, instead he sweetly and lovingly asked, ‘Tum kahan se aaye ho (where have you come from)?’ I was completely nervous. Touching his feet, I said in one breath, ‘I am from Kathmandu, studying engineering. I am the person who is writing to you from Patna.’ He looked at me deeply and said with a smile, ‘Well, I remember.’ Acharyashree sat on the chair, wiping his body with a towel. I sat there on the marble floor. Acharyashree stopped me and asked me to sit on the bed. I hesitated as to how to sit on his sleeping bed. Acharyashree insisted that I sit on the bed, I sat on it feeling scared. I started talking about all my problems and questions. At times the throat was blocked. Archayshree listened to me with great patience and compassion. Just then the camp managers entered the room. They were not happy that I had come in the morning without taking time, but Acharyashree reassured them and said, ‘Look, now my news has reached far to Nepal.” He defended me by introducing me to them with complimentary words. After listening to the story of my past abstinence, celibacy and other religious pilgrimages, Acharyashree said, ‘Gitapress ki religious books tumne zarurat se yada padhli hai.(You have read too many books from Gita Press)’ He instructed me to read and meditate on his recently released explosive book ‘Sambhog Se Samadhi Ki Or’ (From Sex to Superconsciousness).
He said, ‘There are calls from abroad too, maybe I will go to Nairobi this March.’
I said simply, ‘Acharyashree, you should not go abroad.
Acharyashree said, ‘What?’
“Foreigners will soon recognize you and a crowd of big people will be around you and ordinary people like us will find it difficult to meet you.”
Acharyashree pointed to those who were sitting there and said, “Look what this young man is saying. This is what is going to happen.”
Hearing Acharyashree’s praise gave me confidence and courage.
I said, ‘Acharyashree, you should not go abroad in March, but come to Kathmandu instead.’
He looked at me and said, ‘Can you make arrangements?’
I committed to more than my ability, ‘My parents are from a political background. They know many people. They can make arrangements.’
“It’s ok, I don’t like to stay in a hotel, I’ll stay at your house,” he said.
At that time, we lived on rent in Putli Sadak. Remembering the discomfort of my home, I felt sorry. ‘My house is not suitable for you. I will put you up at the Paras Hotel in New Road.’
He said, “I don’t like staying in hotels at all. I don’t want convenience, I want love. Your eyes are filled with tears of love. It is enough that I will not have any inconvenience in your house.’
‘There cannot be a camp, but there can be lectures and personal meeting programs.’ After I said this, Acharyashree reassured me and said, ‘You don’t know, Nepal has more spiritual possibilities. If you support me, one day the whole of Nepal will be colored by me.’