A day with OSHO (a kind of)

Ok, I say it upfront, I am not a particular spiritual person. On the other hand, India is a lot about experiences – and some of them are spiritual. Therefore I had to give it a go. This place came highly recommended. Here I am now at OSHO, the international Meditation Resort founded by “India’s most flamboyant export guru” Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (1931-90). I didn’t think too much when I took the train to Pune, one of the unknown Indian cities of around 4 Million people 4 hours South-East of Mumbai. At the station there were no Westener anymore, so it couldn’t be too touristy – that’s what I thought. But I should have been warned when I saw the complex: One of the best guarded and maintained buildings in India, a huge property with manicured gardens, marble buildings and styled water features. It is probably easier to rob the Bank of India than to take a picture from inside of Osho...(hence no pictures but more text...).

9a.m: Ok, no problem lets go in – wait, first I had to register which I was only allowed to after I passed the Aids (?!!!!!???!!!) test and after paying the hefty registration fee. Now, it is time to pay the daily fee and then I have to buy the maroon robe for the day. Finally I am in and I am quite impressed: there are some people quirling around in circles in the Buddha Grove while others sitting with their iPads in the shade and slurping their cappuccino’s while eating some apple crumble. And everybody feels so spiritual. You can see it in their faces – they are in a different world than mine. Yes we are in India but only the distant noise of the autorickshaws reminds me of the location. Besides me the German guy who just extended his stay for another two weeks after he spent the last 4 weeks inside the resort. The introduction was quickly done by reading some pages filled with images of what not to do: do not photograph, do not wear blue pans under maroon robes, do not cough or sneeze inside the auditorium, do not come late to the sessions, do not leave early, do not do this and son't do that... Lucky the instructions were available in all kind of languages even in Farsi for the two guys from Teheran and in Russian for the guy from the Ukraine. Now I am free to go where ever I like to, well almost. I forgot to buy white socks – not the ones to wear with my sandals if I would have some like the German guy in the sporty blue model with tons of velcro straps – no, to enter the Chuang Tzu for some active meditation. The entry leads you pass Osho’s $400.000 stretch Rolls Royce and pass his ashes in a white marble mausoleum, through his library all in white marble, pass his chair in a room where all walls and all joinery were mirrors over white marble floors into the circular space - all in white marble with large windows and a massive crystal light feature on the ceiling. Did I mention that his chair looked like a chair at the dentist? After the gong the meditation starts and finishes with three gongs. One girl was escorted out by the master guru in his black robe with white belt after sneezing – this is not a place to spread germs as Osho said. “Come back when you are healthy”. Did I also mention that I wasn’t allowed to take my bag or anything with me, hence I had to buy a lock then had to pay to hire a locker. But I feel so spiritual already. Finally there is lunch time. Sitting around the beautiful pool on my pantone chairs besides the gym und spa in black granite. Unfortunately I cannot use the pool as they ran out of maroon speedos which I had to buy in the - by then very well known - shop. Well, I didn’t pay for Basho – the gym and spa – anyway, it is not included in your hefty daily price, so I wasn’t allowed in. And guess what, for the gym you have to buy a maroon outfit and surprise surprise, there are also maroon bathrobes. After lunch I finally enter the Osho Auditorium. A black pyramid made out of black marble. A perfect shot for a photographer seeing hundreds of people walking in maroon robes over a black water feature into the black pyramid. Even the shelves for my shoes are made out of marble. After two more sessions of meditation – one passive and one active with dancing – even I felt a little bit spiritual. Well a little bit only as I was more concerned that my rupiehs did not last for a simply Indian dinner anymore. But the day wasn’t over. The big finale to release all the energy was about to start. Just time enough to spend the last money on a white robe, no money left for a matching pashmina scarf so I would have to freeze in the air conditioned pyramid. Lucky the first part of the evening session was all about ‘let go’ – means here about dancing in your own space. Did I miss that everybody was smoking something before or is everybody really in their spiritual space? What’s about me? Not yet. Some last hope when the screen lit up with Osho’s face and an endless talk about something pretty arbitrary but a big Indian smile (wouldn't you smile if thousands of Westener bring the cash to you every day?). I couldn’t understand what is was about as his thick Indian accent mixed with the shivering of my body – I should have bought the scarf, and the seating blocks, and the mat, and the special seat… Deep in thoughts about what I was missing (or not), I was woken up numerous sharp “Osho!” shouts of the white clad crowd which shortly after collapsed simultaneously “like a rice bag” (quote Osho) to the floor for some final silence. Finally the show is over – god sake. Shivering after more than 2 hours of the last session I exit out of the marble pyramid – it is 9p.m. Late for me, not though for the crowd. They are on the way to the next meditation and some other things after. I have enough for the day. And if I wanted to I could buy the next voucher for tomorrow. Maybe I would then find out what the Aids test was done for at the time of registration.

I decide that I feel spiritual enough and spent my last remaining Rupiahs in a bowl of rice with the locals on the street corner after booking my transport out of this place. At least at the end of the day there was value for money.

source of images: internet