OSHO AND HIGH STAKES GAMBLING

‘Put everything at stake.
Be a gambler.
Risk everything, because the next moment is not certain.
So, why bother?
Why be concerned?
Live dangerously.
Live joyously.
Live without fear.
Live without guilt.
Live without any fear of hell, or any greed of heaven.
Just live.’
OSHO

With the changing of the seasons and autumn’s arrival the time for long-distance swimming in Ibiza’s crystal clear waters is slowly and sadly drawing to a close. I’d like to share with SN readers a description of events that took place during the summer and in so doing perhaps deliver something that will provoke some interesting responses.

Every summer on Ibiza the sea warms up and it is once again time for myself and a few friends to head out into the big blue. After three months of daily swims we are ready to tackle the mother of all swims, The Chuppa-Choop. In Spain the supermarkets sell cheap sugar balls on the end of a plastic stick, in other words…a lolly, known locally as a Chuppa-Choop. We call this particular swim Chuppa-Choop because on a two and a half hour swim you need a sugar hit to boost the body’s glucose levels on the return leg of the trip.
The Med does not have a tide as such but is nonetheless, like all bodies of water, including ours, affected by the moon, which just so happens to be full. On this particular morning five of us headed down to the coast to find that there was a big swell on. We stood on the beach, looking out over a windswept bay at our destination, Isla Murada, a wedge shaped island, so named because the ancient stone walls there once harboured a penal colony.

Introductions are due. Preeti, my partner, intrepid adventurer and sea-lover, who has cut her way through central American jungles in search of God only knows what (with a grumpy me trailing behind) and swam by my side in all of the world’s oceans. Joe, a beautiful lithe-limbed, blue-eyed goddess, whose biggest passion is cliff climbing. Tom, world class master musician and composer of symphonies, who has got to be the most understated man I know. From the word go Tom was reluctant to embark on the trip as he becomes nervous in rough water. Ali, his wife , a soprano, whose remarkable singing voice has been described by some as the cry of the earth. Ali returns to Madrid on the coming weekend and she was pushing for the big swim before her reluctant return to urban life.

304716_3992688134251_845541513_n

‘Let’s do it!’ I cry, pulling on my fins and mask. The five of us entered the water. I took the lead at first and was soon some distance ahead of the group. I sensed this was to be not much of sight-seeing trip, more high advenure. The sea was turbulent. Visibility underwater was good, 30 metres. The suns rays strafed down into the navy blue depths creating a visual effect somewhat akin to that produced by the Aurora Borealis. There were two species of jelly fish in the vicinity. Fried Eggs, so named because they look like fried egg intergalactic spaceships with long violet-tipped tentacles. They are harmless and host tiny silver fish within their pale yellow tentacles. Purples, the equivalent of sea hornets, which can inflict a nasty sting that can leave a scar for up to two years on sensitive skin. As I drew near to a small outcrop of rock, that has a relatively easy access point even in choppy seas, I treadled water and waited for the others to catch up. Tom, who was swimming dangerously close to the breaking waves on the coast, was first to arrive. He pulled the snorkel out of his mouth and spluttered, ‘I’m not going any further. I’ll wait and join up when you guys return.’ He headed for the rocks and I waited till I could see he was safely out of harms way. The three female swimmers arrived and I pointed to the island 450 metres away. ‘You up for this?’ I called. All three gave the thumbs up.

Preeti and Joe were soon 100 metres ahead. I paused and told Ali her husband had decided to take it easy. The swell was building. We could see our two companions bodies ploughing up three metre high swells, the colour of their tanned bodies contrasting sharply with the dark blue water. We set out after them. As we approached we kept 70 metres distant from the island. Waves were crashing against its limestone cliffs and the water was reverberating with the thuds. 15 minutes later we regrouped out in the open sea. By now all of us were running on an adrenaline buzz. We shared a few words, laughed at a short joke, and my heart went out to my three courageous female companions. The sea was awesome. For a few minutes we treadled water and allowed ourselves to be lifted on the waves, windswept foam blowing from their caps. I thought the toughest part was over as we swam by the island’s most seaward point and the mainland’s somewhat reassuring towering cliffs once more drew into view. The sea was calmer here. I turned on my back and admired a gull, looking out to sea from a pinnacle of rock. Johnathon Living Seagull, I mused. I flash on something asked by the incomparable Sri Yukteswar. ‘What original commentary can you supply, from the uniqueness of your particular life?’ ‘This,’ I answer silently.

Wham! A purple jellyfish deposited its painful sting across my belly and right thigh, returning me immediately to the present. I turned in the water and got stung big time on my hamstrings. I’m accustomed to jellyfish stings but these were relatively strong ones. In deep water self-discipline is required in such a situation. The body’s reaction is to undergo both a mild physiological and psychological shock, strong enough to cause leg cramps. Cramps is the last thing you need in rough water, a kilometre from land. I began swimming again and kept my total concentration on my breathing; the best way to remain calm. My first lesson of the day had been burnt into my skin by the Zen jellyfish master. Pay attention to where you are right now!

I hear people talking about living here and now but as I watch the thoughts flit across their brow and their unfocused eyes I know that they are anywhere but here and now. In the situation described you really don’t have much choice in the matter, because the here and now is so all-encompassing it is almost impossible to escape from it, even if you wished to. I ploughed through the water, breathing deep, each breath clearly audible due to my snorkel. I watched my cupped hands move down through the water, sparkling, sunlit air bubbles rising from their motion, each one a world unto itself. There was not a thought on the screen.

I’ve been pushing the envelope in one way or another for most of my adult life. Right now, deep sea swimming does the trick. For me it is the supreme yoga. It keeps you super fit, out of your head and living the moment without the need for an external teacher instructing you how to do it. You can listen to wise men’s words for all eternity, but ultimately, in my opinion, it is existential experience that counts. You want shaktiput, kundalini rising, energy? Out in the big blue you get it in spades.

Once more we regroup. The women look so beautiful. Their white teeth and eyes gleam in the sunlight. ‘Good trip?’ I enquire. ‘Incredible!’ ‘Fantastic!’ ‘The best!’ Their enthusiastic responses.We laugh uproariously. I’m struck by the power of the group. Without each other I know none of us would be where we are in that moment. I feel a deep gratitude and union with these three adventurous people. I understand intuitively that we are all undergoing a bonding experience we will never forget. Nothing is said but in my heart I know in that moment we are one in spirit and that everyone else feels the same way. That’s what I call a good vibe.

Our lollies are produced from an airtight bag and as we suck on them. It is decided that the women will head to the distant beach that was our entry point and that I will go and hook up with Tom.
I’m on my own now, blowing my mind at how tiny and insignificant my body is in relation to the sea. I do breast stroke and watch by hands join prayer-like at the furthest extension of the movement, which I am accustomed to doing as it adds an air of the sacred to the physical mudra. I reach the coast and signal to Tom that we are heading back and not stopping for a rest. He waves and disappears behind a boulder. Ten minutes pass and he does not appear in the sea. I feel slight fatigue in my legs. I close my eyes, outstretch my arms and am reminded of sessions I did in sensory deprivation tanks in Poona One. I hear a call. The women have returned. My wife shouts, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I tell her. ‘Go and find him!’ my wife orders. I can see that Ali is, quite naturally, worried about her husband’s whereabouts. It is decided that Joe will accompany me, she being the youngest and having the most stamina. A sensation washes over me. I’ve felt it before. It is the one where an exciting adventure turns into a matter of life and death. Over the years I’ve saved three people, who were in danger of drowning in Ibiza’s coastal waters. ‘Shit!’ I curse out loud. Joe and I reach the back of the outcrop where it is normally possible to enter and exit the water easily. Not today. The water is a seething mass of white. I am concerned that Tom may have slipped, fallen in the water and hit his head on a rock. Nightmare scenarios flood my troubled mind. I return to deep breathing in order to still the disturbing thoughts. I tell Joe to wait at a safe distance as I swim toward the white water in search of our friend. I’m cursing Tom as I’m thrown around in the water, searching for his body. No sign of him. I am really having to concentrate on not being smashed against rocks by breaking waves. Spontaneous, irregular balancing movements bring on a vicious cramp in my right calf. The hardened muscles are standing out like iron bars. Very painful. I forget about Tom for a few minutes and concentrate on my own survival. I employ various muscle stretches until I find one that does the trick. I rejoin Joe. ‘We have to get out of here’, says the cliff climber. She is right. The sea is beginning to turn positively nasty. Waves are crashing against the foot of the cliffs and throwing spray 30 feet into the air.

It is almost 2 kilometres back to the beach. We have to swim through a veritable minefield of purple jelly fish. There is little space for thought but the few ones that get through concern Tom and what I will say to his wife when I get back. We reach a relatively calm stretch of water, blown flat by a howling wind. Joe and I remove our masks and have a deep talk, floating 150 metres above the seabed. We both reach the same conclusion. Tom loves his life too much to lose it quite yet and his strong sense of self preservation will have prevailed. It occurs to me on a truly existential level that our species deepest programme is the survival instinct.
Exhausted, we reach the beach. Ali and Preeti are waiting to greet us. My legs feel like they are made from rubber. Tom is sitting on a rock with his tail between his legs, after being subjected to a furious blast of the expletative from his wife’s verbal gattling gun. Turns out we’d all missed him swimming dangerously close to the coast, as is his pattern. He was so afraid he kept his head underwater all the way to avoid seeing what he was swimming through. Tensions soon evaporated with joyous relief. ‘I think I’m due everyone a drink on the house,’ declared Tom, as we headed to the beach bar. ‘I’m feel sorry for behaving in such an irresponsible manner,’ he confesses.
As we stood by the bar, drinking coffee fortified by cognac, I felt grateful to be alive and in the company of such fine people.

By now some of you might well be asking what is the point of narrating this. I’ll tell you. Over the past few months I’ve read a lot of comments on SN. I’ve had people call me this and that, which I can assure you is water on a very oily duck’s back. I’ve read about people continuing Osho’s legacy, who haven’t a clue what they are talking about. Descriptions about how blissed out they are being with some guru or another. Humorous and intelligent comments from regulars here, whom I am certain I would enjoy to meet in the flesh. Stories about legal wrangles with the OIF that I find utterly boring and uninspiring. Talk of love, meditation and consciousness, while coming across like some demented hate-driven fanatic. Prophets of doom and gloom. Arm chair revolutionaries. Descriptions of energy experiences that sound like spiritual kindergarten playtime from people who actually believe they are living close to the exalted state we know collectively as Enlightenment. And just about everything else that can be spoken about in Sannyas speak. At times I am left wondering what any of this has to do with Osho, because above all else he was an energetic phenomena. Bearing all this in mind, let’s return to the Osho quote that this thread begins with, because I really do have a point to make.

‘Put everything at stake.
Be a gambler.
Risk everything, because the next moment is not certain.
So, why bother?
Why be concerned?
Live dangerously.
Live joyously.
Live without fear.
Live without guilt.
Live without any fear of hell, or any greed of heaven.
Just live.’

Now, I can relate deeply to everything Osho says in the above quote. I am living what he describes to the max. That was the Osho I loved talking there and I find his words truly inspirational. I feel truly blessed that I had the good fortune to spend quality time with him and learn what I did from him, because at his best he was brilliant, and in retrospect I will be honest and say it was not always so. What I described in my narrative describes three hours in my life. By the time you read this I will have doubtless been up to a wee bit more gambling for the highest stakes on the roulette wheel of life and death. What I ask of you, dear reader, is,  can you say the same?

Lokesh

This entry was posted in Discussion, Osho. Bookmark the permalink.

72 Responses to OSHO AND HIGH STAKES GAMBLING

  1. Parmartha says:

    My uncle who is now dead told me about how it “really” was on the first day on the beach at Dunkirk in WW2. I have never checked his story, but have no reason to imagine he might be lying.
    There were some large allied ships about two miles off shore, and there was a choice. You could “swim” for it, but there was a risk. The distance was a fair way, how good a swimmer were you? Or you could stay on the beach and be a sitting target for German bombers, and wait for the small boats which might never come.
    His father had thrown him into the Gloucester Canal when he was six, to make sure he could swim, and where poor kids learned to swim. He liked it, and in summer used to go there every day.
    He swam those miles. Around him as he swam in choppy cold water were some of his squadron, calling out for help. They had taken to the water and couldn’t make it. He had to ignore them to survive himself. He considered that experience to be the end of morality as he knew it.
    To me high risk gambling is for such moments. Recreational gambling to force oneself into the here and now sometimes seems a little off beam – though I respect the writer of this piece.

  2. Arpana says:

    I got me a certificate for swimming about three miles, across open sea, to a mooring buoy and back, at the age of twelve, along with twenty five other kids, one only seven, and the oldest about fifteen.
    We were accompanied by boats full of grown ups pooping themselves the entire time, so I’m told.
    Was in Malta. Father in Navy.

  3. Kavita says:

    I consider myself fortunate that my father taught me to swim when I was barely two years , he put me in the sea , I peed with fright then but learnt to swim in a weeks time , later when I was five years , I learnt cycling with my friends , he told me cycling & swimming are the very essential skills in life & once you learn these , one can’t unlearn them , later I saw for myself what he said is true .

    I guess , sanyas continues to be the biggest gamble of my life .

  4. Kavita says:


    The video cannot be shown at the moment. Please try again later.

  5. dominic says:

    Preeti… Preeti…good…piece of prose from Lokesh. Bringing the drama to life for us.
    The cruel sea….My own close shave not so long ago was in the bay of bengal swimming out a little. When trying to return a rip current kept pulling me out preventing me making any headway. Eventually somehow I got back and after the shock had worn off I was euphoric to have been granted a second life. I can also remember jelly stings that lasted months.
    I tend to err towards caution more than the gauntlet of xtreme sports.
    Perhaps more Adrian Mole or Hobbit than Hemingway or Braveheart and my only sea these days tends to be the one of traffic in an urban cocoon. Yet ‘appropriate’ risks are very enlivening it’s true, if you know your limits.
    The point of lokesh’s piece for me is also his writing of it, the creativity expressed, mirroring leela, the play of life.

  6. dominic says:

    As I remember some of my greatest high stakes gambles were swimming (or not waving but drowning) in the ocean of love.
    Continuing where I left off from my “sex on the roof” memoirs and perhaps telling the reader more than he wants to know is another extract from
    “Puneography Vol. 2 – Fifty shades Of Orange”
    “The marble floor was cold in Buddha Hall and Osho was going on about some zen patriarch or other.
    I must have fallen asleep sitting up and snoring because I felt someone tap me on the shoulder from behind and whisper insistently “swami swami!”.
    To be honest my mind was on other things. I had a date later and I was mentally rehearsing my tantra moves. I was taking more risks now after my “taking risks” group, and had asked a german ma out that I’d met in heart dance.
    What was it with germans? I always seem to be drawn to them, well they pretty much ran the ashram I suppose…the ‘master’ race eh?
    I liked their directness, and they seemed to like the british sense of humour, though often the irony and satire went straight over their heads .
    Changing into civvies I met her outside the gateless gate, relieved she hadn’t stood me up and sending me into a primal ‘abandonment’ spin and yet another therapy group, nor I was I disappointed with how sexy she looked in her evening wear… definitely a 7 maybe an 8 could even be a 9…..
    As we walked down towards the german bakery, I told her I had some Ritter Sport Chocolate at home if she’d like some.
    “Ach Ja, lekke” she said, like a mouse to the bait. I had a small room in popular heights up three flights of stairs with a coconut mattress and a square mosquito net.
    Once in, I lit the candles and incense and put some kenny G music on.
    We got to it straightaway. I moved in close and gave it to her.
    It was hard and firm. She sighed and moaned.
    “How do you like it ?”, I said.
    “Oh Ja gib mir”, she said still moaning.
    “You want more?”
    “Oh Ja bitte!” she groaned, riding on another wave of pleasure.
    “Another piece?”
    “Oh ja ….diese Schokolade ist so gut !!”………….”

    • Lokesh says:

      Does anyone know where one can purchase a copy of “Puneography Vol. 2 – Fifty shades Of Orange” by Swami Dom?

      • frank says:

        ritter chocolate,that brings it back.
        when I was in Germany,i used to eat it.
        I remember the slogan on the packet…
        it cracked me up.
        describing the substance that purportedly contains the same chemical composition as love as
        “quaddratisch,practische,gut”
        so german!

  7. shantam prem says:

    Put everything at stake, just like Formula One drivers, just like International football players.
    Live dangerously, just like the hugh stake investors or those young people in India who fall in love without the social approval of their village elders, and therefore become the statistics in “honour Killing”.

  8. shantam prem says:

    As i see, sense of adventure is very much part of the western DNA. I don’t know whether such people are born with more than average Testosterone in their blood, but how they risk their life, their youth for making the impossible into a possible expedition is just mind blowing. There are hundreds of such stories which have made me cry from very school days, these people have a corner in my heart.
    I really say truthfully, these adventurers would not have taken such glorious space in my heart, if their inner calling was getting cover from some guru’s words, even Osho..
    I understand too that religious beliefs many times inspire individuals and societies both to concentrate energy and channel this into a creative endeavours. For example, Christianity has done it on the top layer of human segment, where as Islam on the bottom rug.

    As a reader, Lokesh’s seven year odyssy in Pune and his confrontation with death in dirty hospital wards is more in the line of facing the fear, facing the moment and, throwing the mala out of the window….I find it brave, human and act of innocence.

  9. phoenix says:

    Just after my 60th birthday, I (born 1951, London, a famous metropolis) gambled at big stakes.

    I got wife Rebecca (born 1977 in Zambelili, a tiny village deep in the African bush, even now without electricity and school) pregnant.

    Multiple risks there already. I had agreed to marry Rebecca the very first day I met her, a very big gamble, we are so different, as the biographical data in parentheses shows… But it was the challenge I wanted.

    And then, getting our latest child when I was over sixty… Big gamble, and one that deeply affects another too, one who made no audible verbal comment of assent at the time of his conception… Though I can easily imagine that he also gambled at that moment, that he did consent metaphysically to taking human form.

    That gamble cast me into certain quandaries. I have often worked sixty hour weeks the last years to look after my many children, often wondering though: is it the right thing to do as a father, or is it foolish, risking my health too much, thus increasing the chance of nor being able to care for them later? In other words, is there wisdom and love in living modestly and cautiously?

    That, Lokesh, is what comes to mind after reading your piece, beautifully and evocatively written, thus a joy to read… Thankyou.

    I feel some resonance for what you say, along the lines of what I already wrote at the end of my last thread.

    There I suggested that any sannyasin who took the book title ‘I am the Gate’ may one day need to leave master, sangha, dharma, sannyas behind… Because a gate is meant for passing through, to getting riskily to some other place entirely, not for hanging safely around in.

    I have moved on from being Swami Satgit, moved on to walk forward alone (even swim alone, long distances too, though I prefer aloneness, and quieter waters, two terrifying encounters with oceanic undercurrents are enough for me).

    What is see then is that there are many risks in life… and that we choose just some of them, balance one against another. Not all are ‘energetic’.

    I tend to argue that a true sannyasin must drop sannyas, cast off all such outward form, all associated paraphernalia. Yet others take the chance of staying within that form, that organisation, risking for instance criticism, even ridicule. They keep putting all their eggs in the same one old basket, that is also surely a gamble.

  10. frank says:

    according to hindu myth,the world started with a gamble.
    that game of dice didnt go so well for shiva….
    that’s how he went blue– sitting in a freezing cave with no heating, with only his chuddies on…
    his wife beat him and took him for everything he had!
    no wonder he turned to dope.

    the gambling metaphor might need a bit more imagination to give it a positive spin in todays world of online casinos and the insane speculations of the banks and the money markets.

    personally,I don’t like gambling.
    I could never see the point,unless you`re a bookie.
    I do like sea swimming.i even manage it here in blighty in the summer months but I don’t risk my life.(altho you never know)i prefer just messing about,flopping around,floating and short distances.
    you cant beat the buzz,for sure.

    and it is sad that `falling in love with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with` is possibly the most widespread exteme sport in the world.

  11. dominic says:

    Lovely storytelling from Lokesh triggering our own memories and reflections.
    Living dangerously? I’m your man, as i again recall my younger self in…..
    “Puneography Vol. 3 – Fifty Even More Shady Shades of Orange (with extra naughty bits).”
    “Having been at the ashram a while and done some groups it seemed time to give back to the community. So I selflessly enrolled in guard duty for the busy lunch times. This involved sitting on a high chair and checking devotees’ passes as they entered through the ashram gates.
    They say power corrupts, i didn’t realise how easily though!
    What an opportunity to meet many of the Milfs (Mas id like to f***) and do Osho’s work at the same time.
    With a little chutzpah and playfulness i could check their details on the way in and on the way out (what a scam!) getting their names… making a joke… maybe even a date for later. Power and humour always a double whammy for a woman and hard to resist. It gave me a leg over, so to speak, in the dating game. After all compared to your hunky german, dutch, scandinavian, american swami I was your average weedy brit and had to rely on my wits more than my brawn. Just to give you an idea, I’d tried and failed at manoeuvring one of those heavy enfield motorbikes which gave you that cool macho look.
    I was living in the white house now one of several big estates in koregaon park, and felt like a british colonialist. There was a swimming pool, gardens and servants to cook, clean and tend to our needs.
    The only problem was with all the shenanigans late at night and the open acoustics, you’d be trying to sleep and get woken up by the sounds of groaning and grunting.
    I looked forward to some payback.
    One night after one of the many poona parties, i came back with an italian ma. We skinny dipped in the pool outside under the stars then went up to my room. We gazed into each others eyes for a while connecting our energies, then it was time to take things to the next level….
    I was about to make tea when she said….
    “I want-a to be your slave-a … I want-a you to hurt-a me like-a roman pig”
    “Erm…ok” i said, “you have some palak paneer in your teeth.”
    “No-a harder” she pleaded.
    “Well… you’re english isn’t that good.”
    “No please-a”she begged “i love a man who gambles and takes-a big risks”
    Needing to impress her i pulled out all the stops …
    “I know, lets use indian condoms tonight.”………..”

  12. shantam prem says:

    Frank and dominic,
    One man two alter egos.
    Once it was Frank and Anand.

  13. Atmo says:

    That’s a great story.I love it…….but before i read it all, i had already copied and pasted the quote on my FB page. I love this sense of Osho……this life,this gamble, this living totally. Of course always some comparison rears its head….lol…..perfect..but hey, we only get one moment at a time…and this is it!

  14. shantam prem says:

    We are the high stake gamblers,
    head belongs to us, tail also
    This is advaita..

    If we win, we win; If we lose, we also win..

    We are the new man and woman; high stake gamblers
    Old was creating the world
    we add Osho before it, and make it ours; OSHO WORLD

  15. dominic says:

    Nice picture of Lokesh and co (Lokesh and mrs on the left I’m guessing?)…..right before a gi-normous sea monster gobbles them all up..

  16. dominic says:

    Living dangerously indeed…
    Swimming between the Scylla of Shantam’s facebook patrol and the Charybdis of dedicated moderators is not for the faint hearted!
    Four times have I sunk to a watery grave in two days (perhaps 5 including this one).
    No criticism of course, the moderators are the quiet unsung heroes curbing our excesses and saving us from ourselves, (well I had to say that, didn’t I?).
    By the time you read this I will have doubtless been up to a wee bit more gambling for the highest stakes on the roulette wheel of the life and death of SN postings.
    So yes I’m with you Lokesh… high stakes gambling… as osho says, living without fear and guilt… here at the keyboard…
    What I ask of you, dear reader, is, can you say the same?

    (ED: NO, Dom, JUST 2 REJECTED IN LAST 2 DAYS, PLUS ANOTHER ONE THAT WAS MORE A PRIVATE NOTE TO EDS.)

    • Kavita says:

      Oh come on dom , nobody is spared here on SN , high stakes gambling at its best !

      • dominic says:

        Indeed Kavs. I just wanted the latest bragging rights on the Gambleometer. Is it too much to ask?
        It’s an eerie feeling when the collective Gods known as “Ed”, who keep things running smoothly talk to you, like hearing voices from a higher dimension.
        “Ed” is right certainly, I was either “exaggerating” or having a senior moment. The immortals know me better than I know myself and save me from embarrassment and clicker’s remorse.
        Sometimes a post spins in a limbo-like whirlpool for a while and seems to be headed to the underworld.
        Will Poseidon raise his trident and consign it to a watery grave? Or will merciful Apollo ferry it to the light and the other shore?
        Have I gone too far, too crazy or irrelevant again?
        It’s a nailbiting cliffhanger…
        Perhaps we could have a special SN pullout Xmas edition of “X-files, things we never should have said – The Best Of The Worst.”
        Let’s remember that with great power comes great responsibility. Conversely with great lack of power comes even greater irresponsibility…

        • Kavita says:

          No at all , dom you can have it , its all yours .
          thankyou for the reminder , guess there’s no way out , X-files have become Y-files & inevitably they shall be Z-files !

  17. shantam prem says:

    I don’t know which one is Mrs. And Mr. Lokesh in the photo, as all the three couples are looking equally nice and good human beings.
    I am trying to imagine the impressions of those who have not read Osho books, what they will call this adventure, how they will see it.
    One of the advantage of reading all kind of inspiring books is that reader can offer potato chips with all kind of Sauces and dips..

  18. honeysucklerose says:

    try living on the streets, as a homeless person, with no one to rely on except yourself.. never mind all this rubbish regarding being thrown in the sea to swim as a kid, or what have you… that says a lot regarding adults having children- we bit of psychosis involved, no? even just one week out on the streets with no money or shelter will ” put steel in one’s toes”- something osho used to say.. one quickly becomes fearless regarding life after that… So lokesh- hope you enjoyed your swim for whatever it was worth… a bit of bragging never hurt one’s overblown ego anyway.. cheers laddie.

    • Lokesh says:

      HSC, you are missing the point entirely. Most people who find themselves living in the street are unfortunate in the sense that they had not consciously chosen to end up there. As for the rest of what you say it betrays the shallowness of your understanding. Still waters run deep as they say and you come across more like a babbling brook.

      • honeysucklerose says:

        I disagree- we have consciously chosen this incarnation according to Tibetan Buddhist teachings. So we may think its all a happenstance or bad luck, but we have chosen to be homeless, or rich or searching for bliss, etc. Being stripped of income, food, shelter, is in fact one of the biggest gambles a person can ever make, shakes you to your very core- and i can attest to that– didn’t Buddha do the same? Lao Tsu? Bodhidharma? I rest my case.

      • honeysucklerose says:

        i may be a babbling brook, better that than a raging river of ego. i find most of your posts, self centered, self righteous, and a bit of pompousness. you’re at retirement age, please follow the setting sun and retire with grace.

    • swami anand anubodh says:

      HSR Says:

      “try living on the streets, as a homeless person, with no one to rely on except yourself”

      You mean like this:
      http://i.imgur.com/wpwMptS.jpg

      • swami anand anubodh says:

        Yes Dom, my missus did take the photo. And this is her taking it.

        http://i.imgur.com/lEgiSKd.jpg

        I can only imagine that our Islamic friends in S Korea are looking very bemused at each other and saying…

        “Hold on… I didn’t know we needed a fatwa???”

        • dominic says:

          Anubodh, I complimented you on your missus and her beautiful camera, saying what a lovely flash and exposure and how it was inspiring me to get my own compact ‘point and shoot’ out.
          And it was deleted! Is this SN-ist moderation gone mad, when a fellow aspirant cannot express appreciation to another?
          I ask them to consider… for a moment… what would Osho do?
          yours outraged.

          ED: OK, YOUR PLEAS ARE HEARD, DOMINIC. BUT WE’D IDEALLY LIKE TO KEEP POSTS AS ON-TOPIC AS POSSIBLE.

  19. shantam prem says:

    Man with the eyes closed; it means the gentleman adjacent to the lady with black Bikini top?
    If that is you Lokesh; i must say, you look more senstive and soft than your words.

  20. shantam prem says:

    appearances can be deceptive, so can words…

    Lokesh has written the soul mantra of Sannyas movement..

    I wish All Osho disciples, a happy Osho signing the last testament day!

  21. Lokesh says:

    HSR, nothing you say comes across as inspirational, mediocricty seems to be your parlance. So to cut to the chase, I ask you directly. ‘What original commentary can you supply, from the uniqueness of your particular life?’
    I’ve read enough of your posts by now to realise you like to get your tuppence worth in, even though it is mostly not worth that. So why not take a gamble and share a little about yourself instead of sitting on your safe perch? Otherwise I will simply continue to take you with the cusstomary pinch of salt.

  22. shantam prem says:

    One of the common symptom displayed by a neurotic on the net is that such people will fierecly protect their facial identity as well as names, yet will fight for the underdog issues.
    There is a lurking fear behind that police or social service people are reading the sites they participate or readers can find out that behind great words there is a basket case of distraught and manic state of mind.

    Is there a need to tell, how many such people have tried to use sannyasnews platform.

  23. dominic says:

    Inspiring quote from osho, fosho (for sure)…
    Great for the old skool generation but what about the ‘yoof’ of today?
    To pass on the flame and reach out to them, you gotta speak the language of the streets an’ shit, innit?
    At least in my part of the world it goes like this…..

    Wagwan from Bhagwan (Namaste from Osho)…
    Yo sup me crew, me bros n hoes ( greetings everyone, swamis and mas)…

    You gotta play full out, hundo p {hundred percent} (put everything at stake)
    Be a badass, foreal (be a gambler)
    YOLO, you get me? {you only live once} (risk everything)
    Am I bovvered? (So why bother?)
    Fuck dat shit! (why be concerned?)
    Pay no mind to da po-po {police} (live dangerously)
    Party hard, rock da house (live joyously)
    Don’t be a wanksta (live without fear)
    Be hardcore, blud (Live without guilt)
    Yes yes y’all, big it up, go off da meter, no half steppin (Live without any fear of hell, or any greed of heaven)
    Get rich or die tryin (just live)…

    One love. (Bye for now)
    Chill and spliff up (optional).
    Da Bossman (Osho)

  24. Atmo says:

    Ping pong…ping pong!

  25. Preetam says:

    Your stakes are small, little swimming for sure its nice and good for the heart.
    Little more input, please… for example, Black Belt exam in the Texan way… jump in a hole with rattlesnakes and receive a blowjob.

    • frank says:

      that’s impressive….
      but have you ever tried beating off 5 amphibious texan blackbelt psychotic hitmen in a crocodile pool,tripping on 5000mgs of acid whilst getting a blowjob,sinking a bottle of jack daniels,blowing a joint and listening to johnny cash`s last album on headphones with an arm and a leg tied behind your back…..?
      then,my son,you`ll be a man………

      • dominic says:

        Awesome frank…
        but have you tried extreme black belt Pong Fu…
        swimming in open ocean wearing a pair of shantam’s incontinental unwashed chuddies with piranhas nibbling your nuts, while “sea wasp” box jellyfish give you a blow job. You pass out from the pain… but you carry on screaming anyway… until there’s not much left of you… to be a man.

      • Preetam says:

        Uii, for sure those things can happen in the area of the almost immortal “seven”.

        In truth, all too dangerous for me, I’m more the fear type.

  26. frank says:

    dont diss the wrinklies,underpantsman,
    i bet you`ve never hoiked up your incontinence pants and gone out looking for trouble cranked up on a cocktail of jack,azepams,water pills,codeine, prostate medication and anti-psychotics…. beating off a couple of ukranian nurses with one hand and pinching the bum of a philipino nurse as she gives you a blowjob with the other,whilst simultaneously flying down the corridor of the memory clinic at 8 mph in your mobility scooter,listening to “born to be wild”on your earphones and being chased by angry geriatric psychiatrists,whilst maintaining a state of completely uninterupted no-mind…
    i do it every day…
    never too old to rock n roll,bro`
    keep the faith,dude…
    tonite i`m gonna party like i`m 99……
    yahoo…..

  27. Lokesh says:

    What a boring bunch you lot turned out to be. Not a gambler amongst you. Perhaps a few lottery ticke buyers and that’s about the extent of it. Mind you, I’ll be being accused of being boring tonight myself. You see, tonight is full moon closing trance party at Sunset Ashram and all the gang are going. I can’t be bothered and would rather stay at home and work on a painting. Boring! My ears are already hot.

    I’m surprised that not one of you has anyhing to really share about living on the razor’s edge and going by your comments I can only surmise that you aren’t. I was hoping to hear reports of sking backwards down the Antimatterhorn, unprotected sex with multiple partners in North London’s gay bars, competing in Freiburg’s annual wurst eating contest, intimate details of a Texan motorcycle gang’s sex slave who is hooked on crank, reports from the other side from the ayahusca community, revealations about your life as an armed bank robber, how you flew into LAX with five keys of coke hidden in your brown suitcase, tales of initiation by cannabalistic sadhus on the banks of the Ganga, driving down the Autobhan in your 12 cylinder Ferrari blindfold at 330 kph, participating inVipassana marathons over the last thirty years, how you were part of a slurp orgy in Lahore, abducted by aliens, whilst on holiday in North Korea etc etc. But nothing like that, just the same old same old.

    Osho as a youth dived into whirlpools in the local river, Poonjaji hefted full grown buffaloes on his broad shoulders as a young chap, Ramana sat silently in a cave, Buddha once held diamonds in the palm of his hand and threw them away, Jesus was nailed to a cross, Paramahansa ran away from home in search of his guru, the Beedie Wallah lived in the red light district and sold beedies, Krishnamurti turned down a job as avatar, Crowley did it all, Tim Leary turned on, tuned in and dropped out and Alpert became Mister Be Here Now, and Sannyasnews Commenters contnued to do what they always do and who am I to interfere?
    I wrote the begnning article in an attempt to steer the subject matter away from OIF and power struggles concerning Osho’s legacy. I’d judge it to have ben mildly successful. Not one of you used the opportunity to surprise us all by telling something interesting about your life that might in some way inspire, other than having a laugh, a la Adrian Mole etc. Not one of you rose to Sri Yukteswar’s challenge framed in the following question, ‘What original commentary can you supply, from the uniqueness of your particular life?’. Nothing much it would seem.

    Since the afternoon described in my story I’ve probably put in another 200kms in the sea. Water is getting cold now but I’m hooked and therefore rub oil on my skin and wear a neoprene top for insulation. The summer friends have disappeared over the horizon, so its down to the hard core element, namely my wife and I. We were discussing this morning how being out in the big blue keeps one in touch with the great unknown element that lies at the core of our lives, how being out in such an infinite body of water keeps us in touch with our true size and keeps us clear of the ego for at least an hour each day, call it meditation if you like. I find it fascinating how the ego manages to create the mirage of importance and size in our daily lives, when really we are tiny conscious cells on the face of a massive heavenly body.

    With the season’s change, firewood cutting has become part of my daily routine. There really is something about chopping wood that gets one into the moment. I wonder when is the last time any of you actually chopped wood, or is it just a simple case of flipping a switch to heat your home?

    Full moon tonight so Ibiza is buzzing with activity. As is my norm, except when DJ-ing, I tend to stay far from the maddening crowd. Maybe I am getting older in that respect because I am enjoying peace and quiet more than ever.
    As a footnote I might add that I was invited to ask questions at an Advaita satsang tommorow afternoon. The satsang giver is a young woman named Lisa Cairns. I’ll add a link and if you care to follow it perhaps you will understand why I’ll probably give that one a miss.

    The video cannot be shown at the moment. Please try again later.


    I’m curious to hear any comments. I watched for a few minutes before switching it off. It is a crazy world and as the song goes, ‘If you want to survive in this world you have to get a little crazy.’

    Now, about the OIF and Osho’s legacy….

    • frank says:

      chopping wood?
      can`t be arsed with that.
      I`m a neo-zennist myself.
      as the saying goes
      “before enlightenment: flick switch,press remote,put tv dinner in microwave
      after enlightenment: flick switch.press remote,put tv dinner in microwave.”
      re.living on the edge…
      did you watch the antiques roadshow last night?
      nearly slipped off my chair.
      almost finished the daily mail crossword,too.
      crazy!

  28. shantam prem says:

    There were spiritual masters; indian gurus, Buddist Lamas before Osho too. They are now too with more numbers and more strengh. But they are offering the same old products as it was thousand years ago.
    If world has become sharp, intelligent and brave it is not because of them but inspite of them. Osho’s phase somewhere was exceptional.
    He is the only one in my memory, who wanted to revolutionise the whole branch, and created so many ripple effects which trigered effects in far away areas.

    After His death, His therapists, ambassadors and the people who were getting showered by His energy have lost that legacy, that candle in the wind!
    One can check the facebook pages of those hot shots, who have lived their decades in Osho’s presence, how much they talk about it and how much they talk about their retail work of herballife kind of placibo therapies.

    Sitting in Switzerland(not because i have earned it, but got it as grace of Osho’s mystery school) watching the country which is in forfront of a cutting edge industrial evolution and have earned million times more money does not make me feel like poor, for the simple reason, i have tasted that Life around Osho, which is the missing link of a inner and outer fulfillment.
    Osho’s complete life style which he was experimenting and sharpening and which these inner and outer members have lived it, If they don’t share that, i think it is the biggest thanklessness, a crime of a kind.

    Keeping That energyfield alive is the highest stake of a gamble of collective sannyas movement, Individually, people were playing these risks all the time in all the ages. After all, Osho is not the first Buddha of human civlisation and thanks heaven, not the last.

  29. Lokesh says:

    Just in case anyone is interested. Here is a link to shots of the island described above. The short film shows freediving done by my son and Jo who took part in the above story.
    http://vimeo.com/78985611

Leave a Reply