This was part of a much longer post at OshoNews, but no-one can comment there, and it seemed a few old-stagers wanted to comment. Whatever which way, this part of the extract is so important to spirtual life. The moment of a non verbal contact between people, the contact high, so-called, of the seventies, the transmission of the Hindu and Buddhist scriptures, and yet such moments are derided by so-called plain thinkers the world over, east or west. Nonetheless, the patience in waiting for such a moment is beyond all wealth. SN Ed.)
I was talking to you about my strange friendship with Shambhu Babu. It was strange on many counts. First, he was older than my father, or perhaps the same age; but as far as I remember, he looked older, and I was only nine years old. Now what kind of friendship is possible? He was a successful legal expert, not only in that small place, but he practised in the high court and in the supreme court. He was one of the topmost legal authorities. And he was a friend of a wild, unruly, undisciplined, illiterate child. When he said, on that first meeting, “Please be seated,” I was amazed.
I had not hoped that the vice-president would stand to receive me and would say, “Please be seated.” I said to him, “First, you be seated. I feel a little embarrassed to sit before you do. You are old, perhaps even older than my father.”
He said, “Don’t be worried. I am a friend of your father. But relax and tell me what you have come for.”
I said, “I will tell you later on why I have come here. First….” He looked at me, I looked at him; and what transpired in that small fragment of a moment became my first question. I asked him, “First tell me what happened just now, between your eyes and mine.”
He closed his eyes. I think perhaps ten minutes must have passed before he opened them again. He said, “Forgive me. I cannot figure it out, but something happened.”
We became friends; that was sometime in 1940. Only later on, years afterwards, just one year before he died – he died in 1960, after twenty years of friendship, strange friendship – only then was I able to tell him that the word he had been searching for had been invented by Carl Gustav Jung.
That word is “synchronicity”;
that is what is happening between us.
He knew it; I knew it;
but the word was missing.”
Osho, Glimpses of a Golden Childhood, Ch 22 (excerpt)
Photo of Shambhu Babu – with thanks to Osho World’s archives
Today I was listening to Osho on radio. He talked about how white marble look so beautiful on a full moon night. He says may be there is some kind of synchronicity between moon and white marble.
I am not sure if it is something similar. But when I hug few of my long time sannyasin friends, I feel so much nourished, so much happier. Just a hug and a look into the eyes, no words. Many friends here might be able to relate to this.
Synchronicity is the secret and key!
Synchronicity between lovers, between master and disciples, between friends!
As a disciple grows inwards, he falls into deeper synchronicity with master!
All our efforts at meditation, our surrender in love, we are simply falling in synchronicity with master, with beauty, with existence!
A drunk that smelled like a brewery got on a bus one day. He sat down next to a priest. The drunk’s shirt was stained, his face was full of bright red lipstick and he had a half-empty bottle of wine sticking out of his pocket. He opened his newspaper and started reading. A couple minutes later, he asked the priest, “Father, what causes arthritis?”
“Mister, it’s caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, and contempt for your fellow man,” the priest replied.
“Imagine that,” the drunk muttered. He returned to reading his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, turned to the man and apologized: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?”
“I don’t have arthritis, Father,” the drunk said, “but I just read in the paper that the Pope does.”
I think perhaps this type of synchronicity is felt because of past life intimacies as I have read a lot amazing experiences of people who were given past life regression sessions by the famous author Brian Miesse. Most of us feel this irrational synchronicity with our past life loves. Osho has also indirectly indicated it somewhere that He loves this song very much, which is ‘ wo jo hum me tum me karar that tumhe yaad ho ki na yad ho’( old hindi bollywood song) it means that ‘the past bond of love between you and me, whether you are aware of it or not I don’t know, but I certainly know it for sure’.
I used to believe in reincarnation,
but that was in a previous life.
Yeah…like I can dig it. Ever get that feeling you’ve been here before? Yes, I know that you know that I know. Sinkronicity.
Avin, how can you tell if a past life is yours or someone elses?
And who indeed is the person/being who’s supposed to be perceiving someone/another being from a ‘past life’?
99.9+% New Agey imagination working overtime.
Very True! Swami Prem Avinashi!
jungs` idea of sychronicity was primarily that it was “a-causal”
that is to say,it is not caused by any thing.
that’s the beauty of it.
to say that it is a result of someone being known in a past life is to put a cause on the a-causal and to interject ones own prejudice and conditioning.
stop it!
Spot on, frank.
(Remember that Cathar geezer who wandered around the villages, down in the Languedoc? I remember it as if it was yesterday. That time you wouldn’t stop interrupting him during his ‘we’ve all met before’ sermon! What a hoot, eh! 1324 wasn’t it? Those were the days! They don’t make ‘em like they used to…).
wow,thats a synchronicity. my girlfriend was joan of arc in her last life…
freddie N`s “eternal recurrence” was another one.
that’s where you get to live the life you`re living now over and over again for ever.
you cant change it.
the only thing you can do is learn to love it.
people over-estimate how much they remember about this life.
really ,your memory is about the equivalent of a handful of Kodak instamatic snapshots of a very long movie, if you`re lucky.
with that material you invent whatever story depending on your mood.
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are altogether ..
***
Special offer this week….
Enjoy one moment , get another one …free ! Hurry while stocks last…
“life is a free lunch
i never even ordered.
one moment served up after another
and nobody knows knows what the sauce is..
i tuck in….”
baba freefrank freelunchananda
“life is a free lunch
i never even ordered.
one moment served up after another
and nobody knows what the sauce (pun) is..
i tuck in…”
—baba freefrank freelunchananda
I can imagine, there are million plus men who have the feeling, Kate Winslet was their wife in the past life!
can someone forward this to pune pls? this is where some legal action might be helpful (not actually against sannayisins). http://www.clairebrownrealty.com/osho-bophut.htm
I was looking for an Osho place in Thailand and found Osho itself…
how about the osho Japanese restaurant in Poughkeepsie NY ?
and the osho restaurant in san fransisco airport ?
just to name a couple.theres loads.
as for myself I don’t fancy investing in Thailand,too much weather risk….
I`m putting my savings into the osho brothel in Mumbai
that’s a good earner,more satisfied customers than the resort
and no hassle with bearded mountebanks and mental cases all arguing about who owns it.
I visited Osho Brothel in Sookalaji Street and found the place to be a somewhat shoddy establishment. The madame, Ma Shakti of Rajneesh hair brush spanking fame, refused to give me the hair brush treatment, saying, ‘We don’t do that anymore, because of complaints from Rajneesh disciples.’ Most of the women who worked there were sannyasins and wanted outrageous prices for quite normal requests. For instance, when I asked for a handcuff job I was told this would cost in excess of $500. Gone are the days of having a bit of fun in the Taj Mahal hotel with sannyasin Mas out to make a bit of money in exchange for sexual favours at reasonable prices. These days its all about the money with not a hint of playfullness. If in Mumbai and looking for a bit of sexual distraction I highly recommend Hasan’s Rumpus Room in the Colaba district. Affordable prices and if you need a bite there is a great vegetarian restaurant across the street that makes the best onion badjies on the planet. I heard that Swami Arun is a regular customer at Hasan’s although I must be honest and report that on the several occasions that I’ve visited this particular establishment I never say him in the lounge. I heard rumours that he has a thing for an elderly sannyasin hooker who works at Hasan’s called Ma Mahamudra. I actually chatted to her one evening over cocktails. Now in her eighties she looks remarkably well preserved for a woman of her years and profession. When I enquired about Arun she came away with something about customer confidentiality. According to Ma Mahamudra Swami Rajneesh was banned from Hasan’s some months ago for causing too much of a rumpus when one of the young hookers refused to use his rubber duck in some sordid sexual scenario. So one can only conclude that the enlightened one is a bit of a quack.
i hope you didn’t try to pull the old:
“I`m enlightened,so there is nobody here to pay..” number in there.
they cottoned on to that one a while back owing to their large clientele of enlightened customers…
mini mangos,a mellow-thighed beauty who has been working there since it opened, confided to me:
” some of the enlightened ones are quite sweet, but they do go on a bit,seems like they just want a pretty young face or few to listen to them drone on about how great they are and how important what they are doing is…I just nod along ,laugh at their bad jokes,say how wise they are,massage their egos and reassure them that they are special….
they lap it up….just like your average john,really…”
Frank, it would be great to meet up in the lounge of Hasans. We could share a hubbly bubbly and watch the dancing boys. Who knows, we might even run in to some of the enlightened ones. Swami Rajneesh, being so generous and all that, would probably lend us his rubber duck. What bouncy fun!