Parmartha
PARAM her old partner writes:
…she died in the night 6th/7th August 2015.
Vimal remained a sannyasin to the end. Her life ended up pretty much off the rails, but it started off as a miracle, a birth claimed as the result of a parental pilgrimage to Lourdes. Some weird stuff happened in her childhood, including – so the story goes – discovering her father in bed with her mother’s best friend, but being disbelieved by her mum, and sent by her father for psychological treatment rather than admit the truth. She also carried deep scars from a serious motor-bike accident she had as a teenager.
She took sannyas in 1977 and travelled (with two kids and me as boyfriend) to Pune for the first time in one of the two buses that famously went overland from North London with about 40 crew. Her third child was conceived in Pune. She did meditations, groups and some counsellor training during that and a couple of further stays, but somehow slipped through the net and succumbed to alcoholism. I always felt that had things gone differently, she could have been a great therapist. As it was, several of her friends in the early days were definitely drawn into sannyas at least partly by her charisma, joyful positivity, and open-heartedness.
She made an art out of mischief and misbehaviour as anyone who spent time with her could verify. She was always a friend to the down and out. In later years she gave up drinking and became reclusive. She suffered from long-term depression and anxiety, and struggled to manifest the opulent reality she felt she deserved. She regained a lot of dignity in later years.
Vimal delayed seeing a doctor and after being admitted to hospital with pneumonia, was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. She didn’t want to die and kicked up an impressive final fuss, but was also able to express a lot of love for her family who spent these final days with her. The closest she came to acceptance was that she packed some bags from her hospital bed as if planning for a trip and kept a close eye on her keys.
She was not an obedient or ‘holy’ sannyasin but never wavered in her love of Osho. Without her body or mind, I can’t imagine Osho being anything but delighted to meet her again. Typically, the last I heard from her, she sent me a great photo from her hospital bed – with a big grin and a cardboard sick bowl on her head carrying the simple message “Happy Birthday Param”. A few weeks later, she was gone.
Text from Param (with the help from Vimal’s daughter Arvind)
What a life story…
RIPP
(Rest in Pleasure and Peace)
“The closest she came to acceptance was that she packed some bags from her hospital bed as if planning for a trip and kept a close eye on her keys.”
Farewell
If I am dying,
leave the balcony open.
The child is eating an orange.
(From my balcony, I see him.)
The reaper is reaping the barley.
(From my balcony, I hear him.)
If I am dying,
leave the balcony open.
Federico García Lorca.
“You go to Heaven once you’ve been to Hell”
― Leonard Cohen
“I raise my glass to the Awful Truth,
Which you can’t reveal to the Ears of Youth,
Except to say it isn’t worth a dime,
And the whole damn place goes crazy twice,
And it’s once for the Devil and once for Christ”
― Leonard Cohen
“I will not be held like a drunkard / under the cold tap of facts” (Leonard Cohen)
Religion is for those who fear Hell.
Spirituality for those who have been there.
“Religion is for those who fear Hell.
Spirituality for those who have been there.”
Sannyas in 21st century is for those who have no idea where they are.
Shantam,
The man who can’t swim, and is too much of a coward to even try, has something negative to say about all the thousands of people he has never met, who are at least splashing around noisily in the pool.
Sounds just the ticket for you then, Shantam.
Go on, take ‘the jump’ (preferably one of the ‘running’ kind).
“Sannyas in 21st century is for those who have no idea where they are”
Aye, aye…
Jullundur’s` answer to Oscar Wilde is holding forth from both ends again!
That one is almost up there with:
“In the matter of words it does not matter if the underpants are outside the trousers.”
Epigrams which anyone who has watched a bit of porn can understand!
“In the matter of words it does not matter if the underpants are outside the trousers.”
Faceless Frank, don´t you think it is the style used in the vast space of Indian Spiritual Landscape?
Even the westerners who have cultivated their soul there are prone to this, what is commonly called, foot in the mouth syndrome!
Woman wearing bra over her blouse gets automatically the status of divine incarnation.
Following Mickey Mouse Indian religions per se, not just Sannyas, is for those who have no idea.
For sure.
For example, all this mantra crap – what on earth is all that about?
India has produced, and still does, some of the most amazing music of an extremely mind-expanding nature and people would rather sink themselves into that pseudo-spiritual sludge of interminable `holy` droning about some guy called Guru Dave or something?
Miten Premal/Snatam Kaur clones in the zone repetitively, relentlessly drone, groan, moan, intone ‘aum’ endlessly and retarded idiots and no-mind flunkies and satsang junkies sit in rows in yoga postures in designer robes with fixed, phoney, beatific grins on their faces and mentally wank themselves into a dream of being spiritual!
Pass the sick bag.
Even the Hare Paedo Krishnas are even making a comeback on the back of it!
Lost 21st century people just want to go back to church with an Indian name and and get rammed-ass by the new, user-friendly priests in a desperate attempt to escape…what?
If that`s what ‘nirvana’ looks and sounds like, you`ll find my ticket in the bin.
I’ll be on the road to Hell!
Bye now!
I will have a good company, then! Hell is really sweet compared with all that crap you mentioned. Shit people! Disgusting!
You can go to Hell or Heaven, who cares? Before you go anywhere, please drop the habit of peeing or spitting on every wall, every tree, every car.
Miten Premal/Snatam Kaur kind of musicians are doing their work. They are listened by many the way other pop musicians are listened.
I wonder who has given you the right to judge something so stupidly. There are hundreds of kinds of music forms, mantra music is one of them. If you don´t like, don´t listen.
Anyway, Mr. Frank Facelss, leave some photo behind before your voyage to Hell/Heaven.
PM, for me would be “you appreciate heaven once you have been to hell.” Cheers!
“She was not an obedient or holy sannyasin but never wavered in her love for Osho”.
I have never met Vimal and I am sure if I had I would love her to bits. I can understand and relate to her, maybe because she is a woman of my generation. See you, Vimal!
I thought Spirituality didn’t have a body, leave alone any landscape or garment.
Firstly, and although I never met her, Vimal, judging from the various accolades mentioned in her obituary here, was my kind of sannyasin. It would appear that she managed to take on board more of what Osho was about than many others.
Secondly, re:
“Sannyas in 21st century is for those who have no idea where they are.”
Once again (and despite the rather predictable, automatic and negative reactions from the resident motley crew who constantly attempt to pillory him), Shantam Prem has written something of note! The profound insight he has come up with perfectly describes my own life experience.
In addition, I think that what he wrote also applies, in a different way, to the gang already mentioned.
‘WAKE UP GENTLEMEN!’
Shantypants,
Don’t trust Ashok,
It’s a trap.
The evil swine is trying to fool you into believing your nagging and manipulatin’ has got you an ally, and then the horrid wretch will pounce.
What’s your game then, Harpo? Shantam’s defender, eh? Bit of a role change for you, ennit? I wonder what you might be up to?
As it happens, you are wrong in my case on this occasion!
Of course, that is not to say that a little bit of mischief never passes thru me mind. Naturally, it does, and as a mature and well-trained sannyasin, I am capable of seeing it.
No, my friend, you are wrong in this instance and are, I believe indulging in some projection. My intended targets were and still are amongst others:
1. Mr Jock (Blow Your Own Bagpipes 24/7) Scottie-Roll.
2. Senor Torquemada Sexologist Bone-Picker.
3. Chaplain Bookworm Bible-Puncher.
The aforementioned are guilty of jumping on anything that Beloved Shanty offers up in the way of a contribution, in a mechanical and prejudiced manner! As Osho sannyasins, I ask myself, are they capable of self-observation?
Did Prem Shantam knock the proverbial nail on the head when he wrote:
“Sannyas in 21st century is for those who have no idea where they are.”
Don’t listen to him, Shantypants. He doesn’t care about you. He’s just after the seat of all your powers, your golden magical chuddies.
Re Shantam/Ashok…I can see some potential developing here for one of the great double acts…
Update `Father Ted` to a New-Age Sannyas comedy sitcom set in an ashram on the west coast of India…
Ashok as Swami Tej
Shantam as Swami Dulal
Episode One:
‘Kicking Bishop O`Byrne up the arse’
Throw in Tan as Mrs Desai…
It works.
Frank, explain a bit about Mrs Desai, I don’t watch TV that much. Cheers!
Tan,
That would be Mrs Doyle, the long-suffering housekeeper of the two inept clerics, Father Ted and Father Dougal, who is always on hand with “a nice cup of tea”….
Frank, don’t throw me in it. Don’t drink tea, I am coffee total, don’t know even how to make tea. Instead of throwing me in this mess, carry me gently somewhere else! X
Wear the shoe/cap if it fits & this is rest of the motley crew:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dz_cmKS4teM
Perhaps I’m missing something here but I don’t quite see the logic of your stance, Ashok.
Besides the obvious element in his remarks of projection of his own personal situation I take Shantam’s comments re “Sannyas in the 21st century” as yet another deeply negative appraisal of what he regards as a hopeless degeneration.
While on the other hand, your own recently published personal story is wholly positive, full of overwhelming gratitude to the very same Sannyas context.
So, apart from you ‘not knowing where you were’ before you entered the 21st century Sannyas world, it would appear you and Shantam are poles apart in your experience and general attitude.
Kindly clear up this very important matter as worrying about it is interrupting my 21st century daily meditative processes.
Don’t forget, SD, ‘opposites’ have a strong attraction to each other!
Now, please feel free to continue with your daily meditative processes, ie don’t worry about me, just go ahead and pull the chain.
Dont listen to him, SD. He’s just trying to manipulate you to help him get hold of shantam’s golden magical chuddies.
So, Ashok, you agree with Shantam’s pure, unmitigated negativity re the state of ‘the Sannyas movement’, while seeing fit to broadcast your intense, overwhelming gratitude for all you’ve received from the same source over the last 8 years?
And justify such blatant contradiction by blurting out some gratuitously irrelevant nonsense?
Pull the chain on your crap? Certainly, sir…
Whoooooooooooooooosssshhhh!
Great retort, SD, I like it, esp. the grand “Whooooooossssshhh!” at the climax!
An engaging and tightly-written piece that kept me focused the whole way through. Keep it up.
I seem to bring the best out in you, do I not? Though I suspect that you carry a real sensibility to what you perceive as ‘gratuitous remarks’? Never mind, whether I be right or wrong in this case, we all have our baggage, don’t we?
With best wishes,
Ashok (Fellow Member and President of the Sannyas ‘Waiting for Godot’ Society).
It’s ‘Whoooooooooooooooosssshhhh!”, not ‘Whooooooossssshhh!’ – how can anyone take you seriously if you can’t be bothered to quote accurately?!
“Sannyas in 21st century is for those who have no idea where they are.”
“Once again (and despite the rather predictable, automatic and negative reactions from the resident motley crew who constantly attempt to pillory him), Shantam Prem has written something of note! The profound insight he has come up with perfectly describes my own life experience.”
There is no doubt in this/any of his profundity, the problem is he thinks he can speak on behalf of every single sannyasin all the time, in a victimised tone. At least I would not like to include myself in such activity, he can surely do what comes naturally to him but I too can’t force myself to accept this kind of mentally crowded clubbing; & I shall disagree when I can’t take it in that moment.
I agree I don’t know why I took Sannyas but now I know I didn’t take it for any kind of clubbing for sure.
Kavita, why don´t you share your story of coming to Osho commune first time in 1991 or 1992 or 1993 with some German friends and within a fortnight you came back to Pune from Mumbai, not to go back again, not to walk on the same tracks of life again?
What was that energy?
Osho was already gone, from where came this inspiration?
“Kavita, why don´t you share your story of coming to Osho commune first time in 1991 or 1992 or 1993 with some German friends and within a fortnight you came back to Pune from Mumbai, not to go back again, not to walk on the same tracks of life again?”
Yes, dear, that was exactly that at that time: “not to walk on the same tracks of life again.”
When I came to Poona on Friday the 31st Jan 1992, with my friend Michaela (Ma Gyan Michaela) I came for a break from my hectic 6-18 hours of 5 Star Hotel work schedule of the previous 2 years; actually, also I had an appendix surgery coupla months before & had just taken a week’s rest or so & my close family & friends thought I should take at least a weekend break & I thought so too.
So Michaela (she was married to a close childhood & family friend of ours, also a Poona-1 sannyasin) invited me to join her in Poona, so we travelled there together, where I decided to enjoy reading a book in my hotel room, which I did, then after 2 days when I met Michaela she asked me if I would like to join her & I reluctantly said yes to her.
When I came to the Commune & Swami Huns (from Bombay) in the Welcome Centre asked me for how long I was visiting the Commune I said I am leaving the next morning, then when I entered the Commune it was something like I had never ever felt such an experience before anywhere I had travelled in India or in Europe & then my very first Osho discourse: ‘Invitation’ series discourse # 1, in which I saw myself (with closed eyes) I saw Osho initiating me (Osho was on the left & my biological father on the right, smiling), Btw, I had no clue about any Osho sannyas ritual or procedure.
The next morning, I told Michaela I wanted to stay here longer, she was happy for me & I decided to extend my leave, but later when time came to leave it felt like I couldn’t imagine going back to where I came from. I resigned from my job in a month’s time & came back with all the money I had, which could be only enough for 6 months or so, Luckily for me, by the time my money ran out my mother had bought a house after selling our portion of our family house in Bombay & she also invested for my basic sustenance in Poona. I consider myself very lucky as I could explore much more without getting involved with the communal politics.
“What was that energy?
Osho was already gone, from where came this inspiration?”
Shantam, to me that energy now is nameless & indescribable
Father Ted would have liked that !
DISCLAIMER:
Not meant for any kind of religious consumption!
“Before you go anywhere, please drop the habit of peeing or spitting on every wall, every tree, every car.”
But why, Shantam?
Isn`t that Indian style?
To piss everywhere?
To poo whenever the need arises, by the side of the road and on the beach?
That`s exactly what those uptight Anglo-Saxon baboons could do with, a more relaxed, life-affirmative approach. Even picking the nose in public is considered rude by the Brits, never mind shitting.
SS, don’t forget the habit of the women walking behind the men. Such purity, such respect…what a difference from the tarts, prostitutes, slappers of the West….
Absolutely right.
Some of the best meditational therapy I ever did in India was down by the railway tracks of a morning, around Brahma muhurta, squatting barefoot with 50-60 others, having a really good massive shit, wiping my ass with a bit of old newspaper and then heading off to meet the day…
That was a far more enlightening experience than listening to the endless refrains of Satnam fatman…Guru Dave…Wacky Guru etc…
Who has “given” me “the right to make this judgment?”
Surprising as it may sound to those who have never for one second ever lived outside the borders of some kind of a religious structure and wish to be dispatched from this world wearing the underwear of their forefathers…
…me!
Frank,
Your tale of your divine experience in India of having a `communal crap` whilst squatting in India with your friends, has reminded me of one of India`s greatest Mahayogi`s – the controversial tantrika, Trailinga Swami of Varanasi.
It is said that Trailinga Swami lived to be around two hundred and eighty years old. He lived on the ghats next to the Ganges river. He worshipped the idol of Shiva at the Vishwanath temple in Varanasi with his own excrement, with his full realisation that shit is as much a part of the Universal soul as roses, holy water etc.
The priest who saw Tailinga Swami doing such “dirty things” slapped him and ordered him out. But, the story goes, that on the
same night Shiva appeared in a dream to the king of Varanasi and told the king about his anger since someone insulted Trailinga Swami, who was Shiva’s very essence.
In another story, young Ramakrishna (later Paramhamsa) went to Benares only to see the great Trailinga Swami in 1869. Trailinga Swami took his urine and sprinkled it on the idol of the Goddess Kali whom Ramakrishna worshipped and said that there was no difference between his urine and the Ganges water.
Everything was sacred for the Trialinga Swami.
He also used to get into trouble with the local British police, for roaming Varanasi naked. The policemen, who tried to bring him before the magistrate, told a tale that seemed highly impossible. Trailing Swami had simply disappeared before their very eyes!
A huge search party was summoned to search for him, but while they were out looking, he returned alone. He was laughing hilariously.
Apparently, someone informed the magistrate that Trailinga Swami was no ordinary human and that in his spiritual greatness he saw everything as equal.
Apprised of this information that the Swami regarded everything as equal, the clever magistrate asked if the Swami would eat his food. He knew fully well that meat was forbidden to a Hindu Saint. The Saint, without any hesitation, responded affirmatively and added that the magistrate should eat his food also. Agreeing to the exchange, the magistrate served a plate of meat, which the Swami ate with gusto.
After eating his meat, Trailing Swami squatted and defecated into the palm of his hand: the “food” for the magistrate. The magistrate began to swear and curse in offensive tones and the Swami was thrown into prison.
The story goes that he would use his mystical powers to remove himself from the cell and then he would re-appear on the prison roof, in all his ‘sky-clad’ glory.
The police put him back into his locked cell, only to see him re-appear again on the roof.
After repetition of this miracle, they gave up, and let him again walk the streets of Varanasi.
SS,
Those Hindus know how to spin a rollicking yarn.
A carnivalesque/grotesque yogic Gargantua who is enlightened too.
Good stuff!
The only thing missing is a bit of bawdy.
Yep, the Swami was a pretty big guy, judging by his photo.
I wonder what he ate.
I find the idea of him clambering around on the roof most amusing.
Ramakrishna had this to say about him:
“Reasoning and discrimination vanish after the attainment of God and communion with Him in samadhi. How long does a man reason and discriminate? As long as he is conscious of the manifold, as long as he is aware of the universe, of embodied beings, of ‘I’ and ‘you’. He becomes silent when he is truly aware of Unity. This was the case with Trailanga Swami.”
Those babas…
I met some odd ones myself.
I`m not sure if they were “aware of absolute unity” or just nutters.
Maybe it doesn`t even matter. I don`t know.
Lambu Baba in Pushkar was one. He was an unusually tall fellow, hence the name, and altho` by then was an accomplished yogi – being able to do advanced moves like wrapping his legs round his head while standing on his hands and so on – he had earlier in life been some kind of hoodlum who had ended up in jail for murder, where he had taken up yoga and eventually became a sadhu.
The funny thing about him was his face, which was a permanent reminder of his karma. The left side was quite handsome, with high cheekbones and well-defined lines. The other side of his face was completely deformed and scarily ugly and kind of hanging off his skull.
He smoked a lot of weed and entertained a lot of visitors and followers at his lakeside den. Soon after I first met him, he wanted to buy some ganga. We arranged to meet in the town square late in the night. I showed up and in the dark there was this scary-looking guy with a quite an impressive physique, covered in ash, long dreadlocks and wearing only a loincloth, walking towards me. I got a little nervous. “How is he going to pay?” I wondered as he took the bag out of my hand. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he swiftly pulled a 100 rupee note from inside his loincloth and not unlike Trailinga Baba we both disappeared into the night.
Lokesh will probably remember Boom Shankar Baba, who was popular with freaks in the 70s. He had actually been taken to Ibiza by some guys at one stage. He was very proud of his passport, which had “Occupation: Religious” written in it. I was really impressed. I remember thinking: I would like to be off my head and all day and officially pass myself off as religious too!
Although he was a trained yogi and card-carrying sadhu, he seemed to follow Ramakrishna’s prescription and his “reasoning and discrimination” certainly seemed to “vanish” at one point and he started eating meat and drinking a lot of booze alongside the chillums. I once ran into him on the ghats at Benares, well pissed, shouting abuse at some locals and berating them for their lack of spirituality etc.
Poor guys, brought up on stories of Trailinga Baba and suchlike, they would have been very uncomfortable dismissing him as just a pisshead in case his behaviour was really a manifestation of the Absolute which doesn’t give a shit for your little everyday life and ending up with a dose of bad karma.
And maybe it was: who can say for sure?
It`s a mystery alright.
Radio 4.
That’s where you get your writing/speaking style.
Been trying to place that very thing for some time.
Welcome to Radio 4…and now for this week’s episode of ‘Beyond Belief’ with Melvyn Blag.
Today we will be discussing the rise of the spiritual Sannyas underclass and its significance – and where better to find out about the matter than asking the members of the underclass themselves?
Let`s meet the panel:
First up is Swami A, who doesn`t get out of bed, put the kettle on or make a cup of tea without first finding an appropriate quote from his guru.
Next, Mr Big P, legendary self-styled guv`nor of the London Sannyas underclass, who heads up a group of cockney misfit mystics duckin’ and divin’ down the backstreets of Nirvana, Neasden and Newington in search of the ultimate medicine, who believe that no matter how many drugs you take it doesn’t have any effect on your enlightenment whatsoever.
Next up we have Dr.SD, a psycho-analist whose lack of any real qualifications are more than compensated by his eclectic treatments, which combine razor-sharp logic, up-to-date interrogation techniques, psychic ECT and football hooliganism. He has achieved remarkable results over the years – none at all.
And just to the left of him is his only patient, whom he has been attempting to treat for a while now: Mr IS Singh who has been wearing the same underwear for 400 years and whose vital brain functions inexplicably atrophied in 1988-90.
And would you also welcome a man who is on record as claiming that “cynicism is the only hope for humanity” and has travelled widely, urinating, defecatiing, drinking heavily and spitting on holy shrines all over the world.
And lastly, Doc Martyn, who has recently started his own religion based on a synthesis of the writings of Leonard Cohen, Van Morrison and Monty Python.
There`ll be music later on in the show from a Scottish skinhead who will be blowing his own bagpipes.
So the first question from the audience:
“What the fuck are you guys on about?”
Over to the panel….
@ Francis,
19 August, 2015 at 6:37 pm
An African diplomat, paying his first visit to England, was met at the airport by the usual gaggle of media men.
‘Did you have a good flight, Sir?’ asked one reporter.
‘Wowie, ssssh! Yes, yes, very comfortable, thank you’ replied the African.
‘And how long will you be here?’ asked another.
‘Wowie, ssssh! About three weeks.’
‘And will you be going straight to see the Prime Minister today?’
‘Wowie ssssh! Yes, I am going as soon as I have answered your questions.’
‘How did you learn such a distinctive style of speaking?’ asked another journalist, intrigued by the strange noises which preceded each of the African’s replies.
‘Wowie ssssh! The English by Radio service of the BBC.’
Osho.
‘I Say Unto You’, Vol 2
Chapter #6
Chapter title: ‘An Idea Whose Time Has Come’
That “Bom Shankar” Baba that you saw drinking and shouting at people might have been an aghori baba, Frank.
They are one of most hard-core of the leftist tantrics. They have no problem drinking liqour (preferably out of a human skull) and sometimes they will swear and shout at people as a meditation (perhaps an early form of Dynamic?).
“Profanity is the route to Nirvana:
For Dhuniwale Bhaba (as the locals call him), cursing in an utterly profane manner for virtually no reason. And is the only way he claims that can lead him to Nirvana or ultimate enlightenment. An incident reveals that when a man approached the baba seeking blessings regarding his daughter’s wedding, the baba cursed the man using utter obscenities and that his daughter would rot in hell. After three days the man was reported to have approached the baba again with some sweets stating that the baba’s blessings solved his problem.
The Dhuniwale Bhaba is also notorious for throwing faeces on people who demand his blessings and the most awful yet unbelievable fact is that the people are very contended with his ‘prasad’ and some even take it home.”
I don`t think he was an Aghori baba. He was just a guy who got popular with freaks on the trail. I even managed to find a pic of him on an old freaks` site.
Western disciples of…
http://40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lng1zg4nUj1qbi0xlo1_500.jpg
Or is it followers?
Good story…ehm…a true story.
SS, thank you for reminding & sharing this true story .
There`s different versions of the story which I have read. In another tale, the Swami was harassed by the British, who found it offensive that he used to lay around naked in the narrow lanes of Varanasi. He was arrested and brought before the Magistrate where in the middle of the proceedings he squatted and shat on the floor, and then offered his excrement to the magistrate, who was disgusted.
But then the excrement turned into sandal paste, and after witnessing this `miracle` the magistrate became aware of the spiritual power of the Swami and released him, and offered him protection from harassment.
In this version, this first magistrate passed away during the long lifespan of Trailanga Swami, and he was again harassed and brought before a different magistrate, who throw him into jail, only to find it impossible to contain him due to his ability to teleport his body onto the roof.
Yesterday, I also read sickly sweet devotional accounts of the Swami, where many miracles are mentioned from the life of Trailanga Swami, yet all of his exploits with ‘the shit’ are left out.
So there are many different accounts of `miracles` by the Swami. Fact gets blended with fiction and mythology.
Swami Trailanga only had five diciples and only one of these diciples authored an account of the Swami`s life story (hich I have not read).
Whatever the truth may be, there is no doubt that some of the Indian yogis, through long-term commitment to secret techniques managed to obtain siddhis or supernatural powers.
Luckily, Osho always told his people to avoid getting involved with this kind of stuff and just focus on meditation, otherwise we could have been spending years in awkward positions, walking on hot coals and trying to learn how to levitate.
Yes, SS, in recent times there is a man who doesn’t shit or pee at all:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prahlad_Jani
I always would rather go with Osho.
India holds the world record for many things, including:
the longest moustache in the world (Rajasthan)
the longest railway platform in the world (Bengal)
the most polluted city in the world (New Dehli)
the longest time spent without pooing and pissing
the most polluted river in the world (Ganges)
the busiest bridge in the world (Howrah)
longest time spent meditating underground
the longest time spent meditating upside-down
the longest time spent waiting for a coffee in a restaurant
etc. etc.
The longest moustache in the world:
You haven’t seen what he does with his pubes.
Somewhere it is my observation, ask Osho readers and long time followers (in case it hurts the ego, I say friends) about any drawback in any society, civilization, culture, social and political set-up and they will prove to be the best essay writers.
On the other side, all these critical essay writers won´t dare even to accept what kind of decay has happened in their own church, churchless church, religionless religiousness. This denial has become almost pathological by nature.
When Osho was criticizing the world till his last day, there was a positive note about it. He was the architecture of a new way of life. When driverless car which was supposed to be the most eco-friendly fails in its prototype, the right to criticism ceases to exist.
With this understanding, my feeling is we can look at the world in a more loving way.
Ever thought, Shantam, that it might just be possible, or even the case, that very few people share your viewpoint?
And that your chronic sense of bitter disillusion might just be down more to your personal shortcomings than to any so-called “decay” of the ‘Sannyas movement’?
Perhaps, after all – especially after the Master has passed on – Sannyas isn’t necessarily all about losing oneself in a vast crowd of cosmopolitan seekers (and assorted hangers-on), with (hopefully) plenty of potential opportunities for, er, ‘free’ sex?
Has that ever crossed your mind?
”Somewhere it is my observation, ask Osho readers and long time followers (in case it hurts the ego, I say friends) about any drawback in any society, civilization, culture, social and political set-up and they will prove to be the best essay writers.”
Swami Shantam Prem, then the answer:
Could be you are just playing a game with yourself & some of your fellow-travellers who may be behind you in their journey – Ma Deva Dilruba (now Kavita).
It might well be that those sadhus are born lucky, by never thinking that being weird is simply displacement activity for actually being weird….
“I would just like to not share my feelings.”
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20150818-what-is-it-like-to-have-never-felt-an-emotion
That`s the trouble with one-size-fits-all `religious` ideas.
Guys who simply neurologically have no feelings get lauded as masters of non-attachment.
Asexual people get given sainthoods for brahmacharya.
Those who feel no pain become great ascetics.
So various psychopaths declare themselves to have `transcended` all sorts of feelings that they don`t have in the first place!
On top of that, people whose brains have turned to custard take it as a sign of no-mind.
Like that famous case written up by Oliver Sachs about the Hare Krishna guru who was taken as enlightened but in fact turned out he had a serious and unusual case of neural degeneration.
Trailinga Baba’s story is fascinating in that he eats meat in a place where the Brahmins are absolutely obsessive about purity. Then he tops that taboo by eating shit and pissing on a shrine. Then he goes up on the roof and starts waving his dick about and still manages to pass himself off as a saint.
I would like to nominate Trailanga as an honorary member of our spiritual underclass!
One Britisher,
who has spend years in India
Is now enjoying
the NHS funded
nursing home.
One day, one esoteric question
Gripped his mind:
“If not free from life and death,
where my birth will be?
What I will become?
An Indian Naga (naked) Sadhu
living a life of hardship,
or Life will be gracious enough
to offer a flat in
some nudist village in France?”
This is such obvious projection.
I would be surprised if you even know what the word means, nor do you have enough about you to find out.
Projection -
As per diehard Osho readers, it is the horn on the heads of others.
“Me, having projections? No, no. I was vaccinated by Osho himself during one of his drive-bys in the city of cardboards” is the usual answer from the neo-smugs!
You don’t know what it means.
I thought not. Not that I’m suprised.
It’s been clear for a long time that the only projection Shantam is aware of or cares about is the one between his legs…
Mind you, he’s not exactly the only man in the world that would apply to, so let’s not be too, er, ‘hard on’ him!
Chortle, snigger, guffaw.
What`s the diagnosis, Doc?
Flicking through my copy of ‘Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders’, it looks like a cut-and-dried case of penile dementia, complicated by Generalised Ontological Disorder (GOD), repetitive strain syndrome on the wrist and repetitive stain syndrome on the underwear.
Prognosis:
Mildly entertaining at times, but probably terminal.
Frank,
Its a case for our resident Greek Vet-Doc, renowned specialist in flying shit and spiritual seagullibilit…
Doc.U.M Enteris.
Tip:
Either move inwards to avoid projections…or…
inland.