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Some Glimpses of Our Commune

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“Only people who want to be somewhere, somebody have to suffer the sadness of failure. But a person who never wants to be anybody, never wants to be anywhere, cannot suffer the sadness of failure…..He is always successful, just like me.”

Osho (via thecalifool94)

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great!!!1

OSHO Nirvana Meditation Center,Fujisawa-city JAPAN

The website above is rather heavy due to the pictures and sounds data, but the space itself is very LIGHT, so check it out if you are patient enough to be in ”        ”…  !?!?!

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anne and kushal elated by their unexpected discovery!!!!!!!!!

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vultures wake up to morning kirtan in the ashram

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The Empty Shore

as the dusk spread through the northern sky, spilling orange over the Annapurna range, air became thicker with mist and the waft of marigold deepened inside it. Long after, night lay its blanket over the sky, one could still smell the lingering rush of marigold on one's hair. 

a bunch of lantana bulbs lay lazing on the meadows, sun-bathing perhaps, unapologetic of all liberty sun was taking with their lovely pink petals. 

as the greenliness is deepening in the grape-fruit skins, the winter has officially arrived here. the unruly, virgin wildness of Seti River has given its way to a calmer, more feminine self. the pulsating romance of monsoon is slowly disintegrating into the rustle of sun-dried leaves. the whole nature is gravitating towards its center, recoiling into its ownself, after the rush of monsoon. 

I alone stood heavy amidst the thicks of lazy lantana hedge, echoing words from the distant lands of Men, myriad desire and ambitions fermenting in my brains, till it liquefied and consumed me into dull intoxication. its sad how deeply civilization has wronged humanity. how helplessly we yield to its mechanism of converting human  into humanoids. Long before one realizes, we are already processed into the humanoids, who have no independent self of thier own - everybody wants the same car, same piece of plot on some urbanscape, same old escape into "happy marriage" .............rotting helplessly in the labyrinth of someone else's dream. 

sitting silently in the Buddhafield, drinking the roars of the river with the pores of my body, i feel a certain health seep back into me. Rivering with the river, partaking in its joy ride, a subtle process of osmosis reverberates deep joy into me too. I had just finished translating this piece of article on Buddhafield by Osho, where he explains how communes womb that energy field, whose presence alone can nourish your soul. 

staying alone with the river at the commune, I traced the roots of infinite maladies in my mind and soul, some of which left nodules and knots in my muscles. here, standing face to face in an unavoidable confrontation with all the malaise, I realized how urgent is the message of meditation to the world.

the riverbed was supple with rich humus deposit from monsoon. Everyday, before sun diluted the dark of the night with its orange rays, people steal the humus and mineral kissed stones from its bed, yet no one can robe the river of its intrinsic richness. Giving away everything it has, nourishing the parched earth, supplying moisture to clouds in distant ether, bathing lonely trees on fields, pulsating minerals into the roots of the plants - river stayed as rich as ever.

when i left the river, the air was full of something intimately beautiful - red, round, sweet. as the wind rustled through the giant fig tree, I wasn't bust "creating" happiness in future, I was participating in it, here now!

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here you go.....book now to take a ride of your life....a ride from here to here from now to now.....from joy to joy......love to love.....silence to silence 

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Osho Sandesh Is Here

Osho Sandesh is here. As I hold its silken pages, an unknown joy leaps in my breasts. My heart is a plump little puddle of happiness. But this happiness is not the usual happiness. As it disperses through the memories of months, we spent shaping, designing, translating and nurturing Osho Sandesh, it breaks into the spectrum of emotions which more than just a joy. As I leaf through the pages, my eyes become dewy, and the lump that rose in my throat at the first glance, bourgeons proudly. 

Yesterday, we were planting the saplings of Kamini trees around Samadhi. The puny little bush, with its unruly, wild little branches, demanded a lot of imagination to actually think that one day someone might sit under it and be nourished by its shade. But despite its unassuming size, the possibility it beckoned was huge.  And then there were two hundred saplings of sakura tossing peacefully with the afternoon wind. When I was walking through the garden, full of anxiously spurting bamboos and slender, dotted sakura shoots, I realized I was treading through the garden of possibility. It was so fragile, so virgin. And to the faithless ones, it would easily pass off as a wilderness. I closed my eyes, and imagined the sea of two hundred pink sakura. It was overwhelming.  The whole commune, at this moment is actually pulsating with infinite possibility. And it takes a lot of faith to penetrate its invisible possibility. To see a tree in a seed can be frustrating. And, frankly, living in the garden of possibilities it not always easy. But when Osho Sandesh arrived in my hands yesterday, my first batch of Sakura blossom had arrived.  Amen to the unfazed gardeners, who believed in the seed. And to the generous donators, who believed in the unfazed gardeners. Here's to all of us!! : ) Cheers, ~Bodhi Mudita Osho Upaban Commune

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I'm the Flower

Its midnight here, 

The skylight is brilliant enough to exfoliate the orange from the adjoining bush of Saraswoti flowers, otherwise a clump of greenish-blackish foliage. There is a distant gunshot in the background that reverberates with the forest and yields to the incessant trickles of rain. I can feel the life stirring through this vicious circle of noise and void. Its presence is so subtle, so ephemeral, one could almost mistake it for hallucination. I wait here, in the womb of the Buddhafield, embraced by the mountain mist, as that thousand petaled lotus unfolds its leaves, in infinite different shapes.........

the westerly wind is coaxing some new blooms in the garden, nourishing, caressing, fondling with every stem, every leaf, every petal in the meadow. The rain is enriching the roots plunging deeper into the earth, unearthing its inexhaustible source of life. In this apparent darkness of the night, the seeds are blossoming into the tree, soon to be laden with abundant flowers and fruits. I can feel the nourishment seep into me too. I feel a tinge......

 This whole earth is nothing but an ambience, a womb for the flowering. I'm the tree, I am the flower, I am the abundance..................

As plants surrender themselves to the earth, I surrender to Bhagwan, Osho. I feel my roots delve deeper into him, crawl care-freely into his beautiful ethereal body, drawing nourishments, that laden my foliages with grace, beauty, joy. I'm the Flower, He is my soil.

He does to me, what spring does to cherry trees!!

~Ma Bodhi Mudita, (in collaboration with Pablo Neruda : ) 

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sanyas celebration

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