Written by Prem Shunyo

USA – Prison

October 28th, 1985.

The Lear jet was just coming in to land at Charlotte, North Carolina, and I looked out into the darkness and saw that the airport was deserted. A few thin tall bushes were blowing in the wind gusts created by the jet as we touched down, and as the engines were switched off Nirupa saw Hanya. Hanya, with whom we were going to stay in Charlotte, was Nirupa’s extremely young mother-in-law. She was standing on the tarmac with her friend Prasad.Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Crucifixion American Style

It was getting dark as we drove through the rain-soaked streets of Portland on that afternoon in mid- November. A police escort the size of a president’s motor cavalcade flanked the Rolls Royce. There were at least fifty policemen, looking like giants in shiny black clothes, their faces covered with helmets and goggles, riding powerful Harley Davidson bikes. All the roads were cordoned off at each junction, and the bikers did an impressively choreographed maneuver as two on each side of the car would be smoothly replaced by another pair – they drove in and around the traffic like stunt men. Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Kulumanali

The flight to Kulu Manali took off from Delhi at 10.00 a.m. It had already been a full morning as Osho had given a press conference at 7.00 a.m. in the Hyatt Regency Hotel, in which he spared no bones while expressing what he thought of America.

I had snatched a couple of hours sleep, before a hair-raising and chaotic race through Delhi on a lorry, with the trunks that the Indian press had described as “silver and encrusted with jewels.” These were the very same trunks that I had packed two nights before that had been bought at a hardware store in the middle of redneck country. Osho’s mother, Mataji, had joined us with some of her family, and close behind was Haridas who had been living with us in Rajneeshpuram. Ashu, young, red-haired and with porcelain skin and a wicked laugh, was Osho’s dental nurse, and she travelled with Haridas and Mukta. Mukta was one of Osho’s first Western disciples and hails from a Greek shipping family. She has a mane of silver hair and has been Osho’s gardener for many years. I was happy to see that Rafia was travelling with us. He had been Vivek’s closest friend throughout the last two years. He emanates a strength that is centered deep inside and yet he is light and playful and always ready to laugh. We filled the plane, but the trunks would not fit and so they were to follow – we hoped! Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Nepal

I could feel the magic of Nepal before the plane landed, and I whispered, “I’m coming home!” The airport officials were gentle, smiling people, the people in the street had the most beautiful faces I had seen anywhere in the world, and although Nepal is poorer than India, they have a dignity and bearing that denies this.

The road to Pokhara wound through lush green jungle and when I got out to take a pee I walked entranced into a grove where a small waterfall cascaded down to a pool surrounded by rocks, orchids wrapped themselves around trees like huge spiders, and a small stream curved out of sight into a mysterious looking dell. “Chetana! Chetana!” My name was being called and I was torn away from the magic spell. The van we were in, driven by two Nepali sannyasins who had met us at the airport, climbed up and down mountains that overlooked neatly layered rice fields, bamboo groves and gorges with fierce rushing rivers.Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Crete

It was mid-February and the water of the Aegean was cold, but it felt wonderful as I swam naked in the deep, clear pool formed by the rocks with the sea gently breaking over them. The sun was shining and I looked up at the house built into the cliff, and the winding stone staircase cut into it.

The top rooms of the house were where Osho was staying, and the circular window of his sitting room overlooked the sea and cliffs. His bedroom was tucked away in the back of the house, so was dark and cave-like. This was the time he took his afternoon nap. The bathroom was between the two and Ma Amrito had done much work to modernize it for him. Ma Amrito had rented the house for one month from a film director friend of hers, Nikos Koundouros.Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Silently waiting

March 6th, 1986, 1.20 a.m. Aboard the small jet with Osho were Vivek, Devaraj, Anando, Mukti and John.

The plane took off from Athens, destination unknown – even to the pilots. In the air they asked John, “Where to?” John didn’t know.

Hasya and Jayesh were in Spain working for a visa for Osho, and John was in touch by telephone. “Spain is not ready yet,” said Hasya. Spain was never ready! It took two months of negotiating for them to say no.

The plane gained altitude and was moving fast – nowhere!

At the villa in Crete I stood poised, ready to follow, with the thirty pieces of luggage. Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Uruguay

Enlightenment Day, March 21st. I left London airport for Uruguay with four bodyguards. Hasya and Jayesh hired the security men who were specialists in counter-insurgency, counter-terrorist work, and trained in communication, demolition and firearms; each one with his own particular skill. They were to guard Osho while he was in Uruguay, as we had no idea what we were walking into. They stood around me like soldiers and looked threatening, and I felt well taken care of.Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

You can’t hide me

Rafia and I arrived in Montego Bay, Jamaica after Osho’s plane, because we had stopped in Miami. I was feeling faint from the heat and the root canal I had had done at the dentist’s the day before was throbbing to such an extent I could have screamed.

We were met at the airport and taken to a house that Arup had found for Osho. Arup, steadfast and loyal, had survived working with both of Osho’s female tyrants – Laxmi and Sheela – and had come through smiling. And now, having remained in contact with Hasya and Jayesh, who were in Portugal, she heard how dangerous it had become in Uruguay for Osho and so flew immediately to Jamaica and found a place of refuge. The house belonged to a tennis celebrity and was a sprawling bungalow in its own grounds, with a swimming pool, and a beautiful view of the island.Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Relationships

I waited for one month in London after Osho’s departure to India. It then seemed safe to try and enter the country again. Vivek had left two weeks before and she told me that when the date came for my arrival in India, she told Osho that nothing had been heard from me, so she was worried whether I had arrived or not. Osho just chuckled. I had arrived alright. Osho was living in the house of Suraj Prakash, a sannyasin of many years who had also been in Rajneeshpuram. Osho’s Indian disciples who had been through Rajneeshpuram with him, had matured in a way that set them apart from other Indians. They seemed to be the perfect blend of East and West, the new man that Osho had been talking about. Continue reading →

Written by Prem Shunyo

Poona Two – Diagnosis: Thallium Poisoning

Heraclitus says, “You can’t step in the same river twice,” and Osho says, “You can’t step in the same river even once.”

So there is no such thing as Poona II.

When I arrived in Poona in the beginning of January, 1987, I felt I had aged a hundred years, if not more. I had lived many lifetimes, many deaths; I had been in gardens overflowing with flowers and I had seen them destroyed.

And yet Osho was still going for it…He was still trying to lead us along the path towards what he calls every human being’s birthright – enlightenment.Continue reading →