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Destination is only Received by Journey # 16

Journey through Memories


Friends, I do not know what hand it was that knocked at the door of my sleep and awakened me so that I might enjoy this fresh morning where we learn the true sense of leading our Life.
I do not know what moment it was that dominated all ‘durations’ of my life and created for me, this new period.
Even today, the understanding of the one lost in those moments and awakened by that knock, makes one bathe in the fine showers of cool sensibilities!
That search which reaches its completion, that influence which dominates is ‘today’.
This makes me take Nature for a school
This regards human life as a laboratory
This takes every particle of this Universe for a subject and gets lectures prepared for me
Then the mind and the intellect sit in their respective offices and do their work.
And I notice the results:
I taste new and fresh sensibilities of Life
The breakage of all restraints
And along with the message of Freedom, I find my garb of truth and false taking off
The boundary line between the native and the Alien vanishes
The longing for weal and woe begins to end itself
This is a very delightful situation, which in the fold of stillness gives the warmth of Peace. The heart desires that life be transfixed in these very moments, but the presence of ‘why’ does not allow life to become the destination. Thus, unaccountable for everything it, is coming to a stand still. It has suddenly given birth to the longing to understand this situation and know it well. This longing leads me to the library.
In Surrey’s library my eyes pause at the sight of a book entitled, The Mantle is Place Again As It Is by Osho (Rajneesh).
Even at the perusal of its first page, I can no longer stand on my feet. It is a Beautiful moment of the extremely critical state of Life, for me on my path, standing, holding the pages of this book.
Is it in the lap of such critical moments that one becomes aware of the invaluable treasure?
It is that lucky moment
In which there was a song but no word
In which there was love but no lover
In which there was detachment and no infatuation
Then, my memory refreshes, I am transported to the moments of 1984, when the American government held Osho a criminal. For nearly two months, there were talks and discussions on the television about Osho. I had no interest in the news broadcasted but Osho himself.
His eyes—held great depth
His gait—contained the pleasure of relaxation
His smile—was mysterious, secretive, and attractive
This very attraction, joy, and sensibility was captivating for me. The television news didn’t influence me at the least bit. My stream of reasoning would say:
Millions of eyes will not shed tears for a bad person. Wherever, in whichever field there is a revolt, there must be something really special.
It was a matter of consideration, why twenty-eight countries disallowed a particular individual to enter their territories.
In a country with a population of millions
Osho was all alone.
All countries were equipped with atom bombs, but Osho, a single person, an object of horror, why?
We, the common folk, cannot make a single person our own, in our whole lifetime, but Rajneesh made Americans, Europeans, Japanese, Koreans, and Australians his own!
Why?
In short, I took every happening, every direction, every condition, every state, and every mode of thought in a positive way. How could I ignore Osho’s spiritual profundity, his tranquil repose, and mysterious, secretive smile?
Were these rumourmongers aware of the depth of Life?
They were businesspersons and professionals, and that is all. They had little relationship with Life. If they held a link to anything—it was money.
Even in handcuffs and trammels, Osho’s spiritual depth, his smile, and tranquil repose did not disappear. I saw him on the television screen, and when he was given a deadly medicine, even then, he did not respond differently.
Then I remembered that situation in history
When one was poisoned to death or was crucified
When one was stoned to death or was consigned alive into flames
When one was lain on a heat-baked board or was cut into pieces, limb by limb
This will also go down in history—this treatment to Osho!
The present age is the age of Science. Therefore, it is no longer necessary to kill a man with poison or through crucifixion. In this case, it was quite natural to make use of scientific progress, using the deadly medicine.
Another thing was that at Osho’s back there was a well-educated, thoughtful, and reflective nation. Everything had to be done with care and caution.
What should I say—at that time seeing this plight of Osho’s I prayed, “O God, abide by him, whether through personal contact, through books, or the medium of tapes.” Today, this desire of mine is being fulfilled in the year 2002, after nearly eighteen years!
The books written about Osho’s life and his speeches threw Light on the path adopted by me. Sometimes he gives me support and sometimes he gives me relief, in the purification of my life. Osho is the best milestone of my journey—which like a rumbling lightning flash, lit up my path. Through it came depth in my Quietude and prolongation in my mental repose, as the speed of my thirsty longing doubles.
Osho’s spiritual depth makes Buddha, Nanak, Krishna, and Jesus my objects of self-adornment.
Osho’s tranquility makes the Vedas, the Granths, the Shastras—and all other scriptures—God for me.
Osho’s smile makes the all-pervading Life, an object of consciousness for me.
Today, the Creation has made me this Life, highly heart-ravishing and unique, because it first gives me direction and makes pilgrimages along Beautiful paths. Later, makes Nanak, Buddha, Krishna, Kabir, and Jesus milestones, and sends the Vedas and the other scriptures as veritable jewellers, for me.
Now Life for me becomes that boat which is impatient to embark upon an expedition in deep waters. This song sung by Gurdas Mann:
“O Sikhs, you carry on your head the turban of the Revered Preceptor.”
Further gives me a push in life and Swami RamSukhdas further illuminates my life.
Now I have learned:
What the name of my spiritual quest can be, and that which is my faith
That which is this direction that begins to quench my thirst
That which this state of my being that transforms everything?
It is the pilgrimage to the Vedas and the other scriptures.




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