Those close to Osho say this was his favourite Rolls Royce… …
now who wants to buy it for the SN office!
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Having fast-forwarded this stupid video to check who is the seller, the name was Mr. Lal. It is an Indian name!
Indians are famous to sell their spiritual heritage for the sake of Dollars!
What would you do with the car, Parmartha?. Ask for a dame of that era who is still in immaculate condition. I am sure it’s much more worthy than the luxury town car and costs a fraction of it.
Actually, we simply like the car – just like our Master!
Newman is not auto-erotic, but by the sound of it, he prefers ‘cheap dames’.
Whatever floats your boat, man.
“Freedom is a higher value than love” (Osho)
his ‘offer’ comes from Los Angeles, does it?
I went to my bookshelf, found one of the (‘old’) books with His ZEN stories -
picked up in it the following story about the Zen Master Nansen and the moment where in the monastery his monks were fighting about possessing a cat:
Nansen went into the kitchen and came back with a big knife,
he came back to the monks and said to them:
“Whosoever of you can say a good word, can save the cat.”
No word was spoken – utter silence.
Nansen then and there killed the cat and gave to each group of the monks pieces of the corpse.
When Joshua came back late in the evening, Nansen told him what had happened.
Joshua didn´t say anything;
he just put his shoes on his head and went out.
“If you had been present, the cat would still be alive and be saved.”
That´s a story not only for Los Angeles, Bolly – and Hollywood tribes, but also for everybody – including me.
I had a longing to find it this evening, it’s a very beautifully made old book with lots of Japanese drawings in it.
A gold nugget, one of many.
Have a good night, friends.
I had to translate the story (sorry), as I bought ages ago the German translation.
Sometimes a strong HIT is needed to get awareness to an issue…
I remember lots of shocks I have been through…and yet – some of these are ever fresh again, like this one.
Ok, Madhu, a typical ‘zen’-type story, which we can all sort of ‘enjoy’ and think, “how very profound”…
But what benefit is it for your life? Is clinging to such stuff just clutching at esoteric straws? (For me, it would be – how about you?).
Looks like a lemon to me.
I have this one up for sale just now at 75,000 Euros….last price!
Is that a ‘Bullet’ Mustang?
I’d say it is a bit more of a ‘rocket’ Mustang.
Fab machine. About ’68 I meant, Steve McQueen film, ‘Bullet’.
I tried Google with the search words:
How to buy Osho´s cars,
How to buy Osho´s Rolls Royces,
and the results were from disciples´ magazines, trying to explain the logic behind.
Like it or not, Pope´s used car will have higher Ebay price.
And someone will buy Osho´s used car for energy purpose; people who could not even preserve Buddha Hall where master was sitting won´t give a damn more than the price for an old model.
The youtube video is a desperate effort for Mr. Lal.
Maybe he should say car was driven by Michael Jackson!
That’s a good idea.
Both big in the 80′s,
both had their own ranch,
own doc to supply them with gear,
a load of brothers who looked like them…
the gen pub would never know the difference.
But these cars,
they remind me how ‘Spinal Tap’ the whole thing got.
Proposed 80′s world-domination by 60′s and 70′s throwback stars brought low
chicks trying to take over the band,
trouble with distributors due to political incorrectness,
world domination tour fades into obscurity as ticket sales wane.
All the while the main man is lying low in his room, puffin’ away and turning the zen bull dial up to eleven “for that extra push over the cliff”, and composing classic numbers:
‘Gimme Some Money’,
‘Working on a Sex Farm’.
as you both have got your feet on the gas-pedal, Frank and Lokesh too -
that´s gonna be a ride unforgettable.
some laughter too?
you have asked me something.
I can answer that the ZEN story came up SPONTANEOUSLY in my mind – just seeing the ‘issue’,
and then the second thing has been to look into the bookshelf and look for it.
Otherwise, I am not at all into esoteric habitual stuff.
Sometimes I trust my intuition about myself regarding ‘happening(s).
I am glad you are quite careful in comparing you and me.
you also asked about “benefit”?
I tell you: N O N E.
‘De nada’ is happening on this side….
So we go from right-wing housewife journalism to the viewers of Top Gear, all in a week… I reckon SN will be calling itself ‘Hello Osho’ magazine or ‘Auto-Vaita Trader’ by tomorrow.
The Rolls Royce and the Spirit of Ecstasy (the name of the silver angel figure on the bonnet or hood of the car )
I miss the good old days when Osho would start talking and you’d get hit with waves of stupefying somniferousness, that felt so very sweet and subtle…that ‘in the air thing’ that Parmartha mentioned…it was like ambrosia…it almost felt like something inside was being re-arranged…often I’d have to collapse into some light trance on the stone hard floor at the back of Buddha Hall, being utterly, totally new to this stuff…and waking, just as his voice used to reach those bombastic crescendos…going boom into the half-asleep eardrums and neurons…and that other place…where love lives…
I just looked the other day for one of his lovely Sufi books ( can’t say which one as I’m hoping to buy a copy )…and those long drawn-out discourses were so, so beautiful…he’d leave you aching with sweet love…and the way we’d all sit bolt upright to Namaste and thank the Buddha within, without…
Then, with bursting cupid innocence, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the Roller as he left…
The last time I left him was a few months before he died, and I’d had a truly magical relating time with one of the ashram’s beauties (she knows who she is ) truly wonderful and full of the best of sannyasin love…I had attended his very last spoken lecture, ‘Remember you are the Buddha’. Those last few months attending discourse were truly oceanic…the head would be…well, words cannot explain…my legs would buckle for a good while after and talking was nigh on impossible, in fact sticking two thoughts together just seemed such a waste of…that rareness…that we’d just shake our hands if a friend approached to start talking, to say ‘no, no…please don’t talk to me just yet, sorry, thanks’….
The final flight out of Bombay that last night was early in the morning, so off a couple of us together went to spend the night in the restaurant of a flash hotel in Mumbai…I ordered my food at the exorbitant prices…and before it arrived I was overcome with waves of trickling tears that just wouldn’t stop, the tap seemed stuck on ‘on’.
I was in a daze all right, wandering around the huge marbled foyers, like an airplane hangar…and in and out of the hotel, dripping great sobbing tears of…well, who knows what? But it was Osho all right….and I had this uncertain, unnerving feeling that I would never see him again…I’m tear-ing up as I write this now…
Now usually, I don’t write this way, do I? But this is my second go. The other night my android keyboard wiped what I’d written on something else in a similar vein. Tonight, I had no idea this would start coming out like this…but somewhere it’s all there still…and I’m so glad for it, for him, for me and for the gifts shared amongst all those who have visited this of which I speak, even if only fleetingly.
I’d just thought someone might like to know…you know, in amongst all the fun, what turned the world into a song…for those moments shared… that maybe, just maybe will go on…despite anything and everything…and for everything…
Thank you, sweet, mad Osho..we love your love, we love your song…Haaaaappy Birrrrrthday to you…(anyone remember that tune from Anubhava?)
And yes, I am nuts…absolutely frigging off the scale…thank you for that, Osho…you lovely, sweet bastard man….
Martyn, such a beautiful collection of words.
You put it so well and bring back sweet memories. Yes, like ambrosia in the air. Tingling and drowsy at the same time. Alert and deeply relaxed. Touched and yet not sentimental.
I’ll never forget what it was like being in Osho’s presence. It stays with you forever. Of course, I still miss him, even though I ‘shouldn’t’.
Nice post, Mr Martyn. I remember the song. Very fine memories of it in my case.
One of the long acoustic Pune1 versions above.
The other versions (also 1983 ) and tunes are here…
Here’s one for you from 1979!
And here’s one that might appeal, although not a ‘Sannyas song’…
Over the years I got fed up with the criticisms of Osho around the Rolls Royces.
And sort of apologias around it, as if his love of them was some kind of error.
Or those who say, well, yes, it was a device, but not a very good one, and a very expensive one.
To me, it was just as it was, and as it always will be. Something quite aesthetic, and something quite mad, and something just Osho. I don’t consider it was a device.
No, that was in de boot, under de jack.
Sounds good. But why so many? This damn goody black kimono and few others would do, right? If you get bored you can change, that I can understand. But why so many sitting in the garage?
Anyway, I am not into cars. I recently found one Ma who lived in the Ranch. 10 years older than me, but who cares? Its so f…g jucy just to be on side of her.
“Thank you, sweet Osho…we love your love, we love your song…Haaaaappy Birrrrrthday to you.”
Who has not cried while listening this song and dancing on the tune? Maybe we found out our Moses, our Jesus in the industrial hubs of life…
“Home is where the heart is, my heart is with you…”
Maybe someone will add some more chapters to the history of life around Osho. For example, during one late evening, Osho called his two, three faithful disciples. Disciples used full bottles of mouthwash to take the odour of whiskey and Camel away.
When they all gathered around Osho, He said, ” Today was a great celebration. I am the only Buddha in the history of mankind who has seen his birthday celebration. Mostly it happens years after master´s death.”
Years later, these faithful disciples stumble upon the idea, “We were supposed to do something after years.”
They simply scrapped the birthday and other celebrations their patriarch was part of.
Leaves me wondering when El Chudo will publish a photo of the fabulous Black Chuddie Mobile Rolds of Cannalee, rolls down hills and cannalee get up them. According to rumour it is fueled by mouldy frankfurters and chuddie gas and can reach speeds of almost 5kmph, due to a turbo that recycles chuddie gas to give it an extra bit of torque.
It often backfires, due to the engine being lubricated by nostalgia oil, a sticky substance that victimises the unskilled driver by instilling in them a desire for the simplicity and innocence of days long past that they can never return to.
Shri Lokesh Scooty, with your kind of awareness, it is important to know, am I scratching the mirror or the face?
No mind and dementia are twins separated at birth, as in Hindi movies.
I liked your zen approach, Madhu. Also, thanks to my most favourite ‘tickling target’, SD, for some down-to-earth comments. Even Shantam has a point with comparing Osho’s Roll-Royce car to the Pope’s car. And really, it’s a good point, PM, that everything does not have to be a ‘device’, but it can be just what it is. I do not now mention others, but I like very much this turning point in discussion here, wonderful indeed.
Jayesh is a real estate developer, who did his job with the Resort: some buildings and landscape, even a swimming pool. Great, but the Resort is not any Taj Mahal, far from it. Do we want a Taj Mahal for only tourists anyway?
Also, in spite of all support, money, facebook etc. he (Jayesh) would never attract people to HIS Osho place (not even with ‘Osho’s will’), somewhere else, like in Hong Kong. Until now it has been in Osho’s name. However, if he did so, I would totally support him creating his own place, and if I could afford, I would love to have a gin and tonic there with Anthony.
I could write about branding here, for example that I suspect Osho’s millions of facebook ‘likes’ seem to be fake. If you look at some people’s profiles who comment on Osho facebook, they seem fake profiles. Music industry does it a lot with facebook and youtube to create ‘overnight success’ that everybody wants to be part of, then more people join in etc. This is only one thing.
But I am not interested writing about branding, because Osho is not a brand, but a spiritual master. It makes me so happy that that’s the way you see him too here, my SN friends on the path.
It could be argued that Osho was very much into branding. The word ‘brand’ has its root in an identifying mark made by a hot iron. Osho definitely left an identity mark on his people. ‘Your new name will be….he slips a mala with a locket containing his picture over the neck…start wearing orange.’
You could see sannyasins from miles away. Orange has always been a prefered marking colour for highland shepherds to colour their sheep with for identification and location purposes. In other word…a brand. Baaaaaah!
As this is the string originated from SannyasNews, someone from there must ask Mr. Lal how much he wants to expect from this second-hand car?
The early history of Osho and expensive cars is not so well known.
If Laxmi is to be believed, he asked her during the Poona 1 time to get him “The most expensive car available in India”. As my memory serves me, this was a Mercedes, not a Rolls Royce. She reported Osho as saying at the time that by so doing many, many Indians would come to the Poona ashram – just to see the car! And that way he might trap a few of those into the authentic search…
Might have got the exact details of this wrong after so many years, happy to be corrected by Lokesh, Arps, or anyone else who was there at that time.
Yes, PM, he once had a big, yellowish-gold Merc SL…fuel economy was never an issue. The beedie wallah just smoked ciggies and managed to trap a few of those into the authentic search…must have been holy smoke.
Par for the course.
Guru Maharaj ji had a Maserati.
Georgie G couldn`t wait to get a ride in some state-of-the-art French movers…
he had a 1923 Citroen too.
Dalai Lama has moved from Mercedes to Range Rover over the years.
Satchitananda`s disciples had difficulty dragging their master away fro the slot machines in Vegas.
These chappies loved their western technology…
The same kind of thing has happened much closer to home.
You must remember the story about our very own Shri Shantam, when he first came to Germany?
Before his first dole-cheque came through, he would just wander the streets all day, amazed and entranced by all the smooth technology available.
Particularly,he noticed a machine in the high street which would be periodically approached by a flustered-looking man, who would stop in front of the contraption, fiddle with his flies and then press himself close to the machine and insert a couple of D marks into the slot. The machine would then rattle and purr for a while.
When it stopped, the man would step back with an extremely satisfied and relaxed look on his face, fasten his trousers and head off down the street, whistling.
Shantam was amazed at both the advanced tech and the sheer shamelessness of these westerners.
When his dole money came through, he headed straight for the high street, ran up to the machine, hurriedly undid his flies and stuck his dick into it; fumblingly, he pushed the D marks into the slot in feverish anticipation.
The poor blighter had never felt such pain in his life!
He pulled back, looked down and was horrified to see…
on the end of his dick…a neatly sewn fly-button.
There is a classic sketch in ‘Bad Grandpa’ when an old geezer gets his wild thing jammed in a coke dispenser. Good schoolboy stuff!
I was doing some sightseeing in Bombay when a policeman stopped me from going inside a museum, which he said was closed for the Prime Minister’s visit.
Just as he was speaking, Mrs Gandhi came out and got into her car.
As she drove past I saw her looking at my mala, she then smiled and waved at me.
I politely smiled back and thought, “You are the PM of India and drive a Hindustan Ambassador ‘Noddy’ type car while Bhagwan has a Mercedes!”
As LK says, and I do definitely remember the yellow Merc. This was in ’75.
I am not sure when Osho started to drive the Rolls Royce in preference to a German model.
Very, very beautiful piece from Martyn, thank you. You say this is not the kind of thing you usually write, maybe it should herald in, or back, a new heartfelt lyricism.:.I would suggest, drop even the word “bastard” at the end, a word inserted as if re-opening a small trapdoor to give a chance to cynicism or bitterness or whatever to come back and destroy…
The piece has got me reflecting, has got me asking myself: how do I both remember and let go? How do I remain true to the good that was given to me before, without becoming addicted or lost in nostalgia? How do I move on without letting sadness at a ‘lost’ past inhibit my movement, yet without denying my sadness either?
Martyn hints at the answer. Among the last words of the last discourse he mentions was the word sammasati, right remembrance.
I have the chance right now to start a new chapter in my life, and I was early this morning looking for inspiration to create that.
That inspiration, that SPIRIT, has never left me. Yet it must be renewed, take, create, new form.
Right remembrance is both the old and the new. The new builds on the old, otherwise there is no growth, only always starting from scratch. So the new cannot stand alone, it needs the remembered past.
But nor can the old, however much loved, continue without the new. Without taking new refreshing form it dies, uselessly.
I don’t see there’s a problem here, Phoenix. Isn’t it the case that any such major experience remains in us, becomes part of us, for ever, in a sort of ‘latent’ (is that the right word?) ‘energetic’ form, as it were? It might hardly ever be consciously recalled through memory, but why should it ‘need’ to be anyway? It’s there, and we’re changed somehow, at some level, perhaps below conscious awareness, for ever, no matter what we might think, feel or do thereafter.
Such a moving recall as Martyn’s might be ‘necessary’ for the individual concerned, for whatever reason, and it does sound like a sort of ‘wake-up call’, although in a way there might be an inherent danger in this:
firstly, due to memory being notoriously unreliable;
second, in getting ‘carried away’ by all the emotion, to the extent that it becomes another form of self-indulgence, ie ironically enough indulging the very ‘self’ that the profound ‘psycho-spiritual’ experience undermines!
As for sadness about the lost past, well, that’s par for the course in any human life, isn’t it? Why make such a fuss about ours? If it was so good, then it’s ‘done its job’, hasn’t it, so you and anyone else can move on with greater love, awareness, self-knowledge – not forgetting the lesson:
Everything Passes, even the very best of times.
And if it wasn’t so good, then good bloody riddance (and ‘Everything Passes’ again!) – learn from mistakes and again, move on!
No problem, SD, agreed.
Just find the middle way.
Sadness should neither be indulged in nor ignored.
Indulgence is indeed attachment.
Ignoring means overlooking a signal of an imbalance which needs to be redressed.
This is a trailer for a BBC TV documentary I watched a few years ago called: ‘THE MAHARAJA’S MOTOR CAR: The Story of Rolls-Royce in India’.
The film reminded me of somebody.
I wonder if Osho being intrigued by this type of opulent extravagance, took advantage of his significant resources to simply engage in a little extra self-enquiry? To explore ‘what it would be like’ to own as many Rolls-Royce cars as there were Maharajas.
Just idle speculation.
Luxury cars or begging bowls.
The most fundamental question which grips poor and rich, theist, atheist and agnostic, is very simple:
FROM WHERE THE MONEY WILL COME?
Everybody needs money. Those who have it also need it.
Many need it for their day-to-day survival, lucky ones need it for their lucky kicks!
Hilarious part is those who trust in God (or 21st century God called ‘Mr. Existence’) use all kinds of tricks available in juggler’s hat to attract the Mrs. M!
After all, Meditation (known as Mr. M) will have the bachelor’s pangs without her.
Parmartha, then during the Ranch many did not know, but by now most of us are aware of many things happening with Osho.
Did you ever wonder why so many eminent sannyas people are silent about what is happening in Pune? They are certainly NOT flagging for OIF.
Anthony wrote Osho’s words, for example about homosexuality, “need to be updated”.
Arpana was wondering if it could be possible to restore Osho’s original words. So am I.
Number of visitors in Pune is lowest ever; the commune’s land is heavily in debt. How is it possible they (OIF) can afford to act the arrogant way they do?
Jayesh & co. have one huge diamond in their possession: they have most of the original tapes, Osho’s own paintings and above his Samadhi somewhere else, but not in Pune any more. (MOD: WHAT DOES above his Samadhi…any more MEAN, PLEASE, FRESCH?)
Dhyanam wrote, ”follow the money”, which is a classic journalistic approach to be seen at first. But there is so much more at stake, if Canadian cult leader gets pissed off he can just destroy, burn, everything authentic from Osho in Pune. Even the cars.
So, I just wonder why would anybody here leave it to one man’s hands, in somebody’s hands, who nobody really knows. Just now I realize the situation is far more dangerous than I was ever able to imagine before.
Yesterday I was watching the movie ‘Battler’, in which black people fought for their civil rights in USA. In the story, the battler was a son of a mother who got raped and a father who got shot in the deep South. He finally ended up being a battler in White House. His son first became a ‘freedom fighter’, got beaten up, imprisoned etc., ended up with Black Panthers, but walked away from violence, became a politician and changed the Post Office of USA. At first, black people were allowed to be served in the same cafeteria.
Did you ever wonder why Osho choose to call his ‘practical people’ a post office? Post office’s job is transferring the message, not to steal it and not to change the message. Their reward is to charge for the stamp and for the delivery, no matter if there was a blank sheet or one million dollar cheque. This is not happening.
In the movie, the battler’s son tried at first Ghandi’s non-violent approach, then Black Panthers, then politics. I wonder what would be Osho Sannyas way, what do you think? Now the most popular way is to focus to make your own life better: meditate with people, create personal friendships and marriages and have pleasurable holidays, connect with like-minded friends, leave the camels to karma.