During  1968, a time when many young people believed that social change could be implemented, I was a young boy of 13 living in Palermo, Sicily, best known as a Mafia nest. Aloneness is the image that is paramount in my memory – I had a strong feeling of ‘not belonging to this city or family or environment’. I generally felt disconnected from people and could not understand their morals and ways of living.

A year later, I found myself involved in political affairs at the Liceo, a classical high school, and it was then that I believed I had found my family. We were wild kids and always hanging out together, discussing everything other people took for granted. It was a beautiful time because we felt we could really change society and our way of living; and overall, we were not alone; in fact, all young people around the world were experimenting with the same thing.

This continued until 1975, when the political conditions of the world changed. In Italy, the so-called democracy was almost solely arranged by the mafia or by people with basically the same mentality. The  powers got together because the young people now were becoming too much; in practical terms that meant that the repression became very strong and clever; on the other hand in the movement of the so-called revolutionaries the idea of political armies and killing started to grow. I was startled to realize that until now I had just been dreaming of changing the world, but in reality I wanted to change myself and definitely didn’t want to kill anybody.

Many others of the young revolutionaries moved on to drugs and to a completely self-destructive attitude; the more aggressive ones embraced the slogan “no compromise with the powers.” Either of those directions was not in tune with my being, and I buckled with a sense of delusion and desperation. In this mood, I graduated from university in 1977 with the most outstanding score; newspapers wrote about me because I was the best medical graduate at the age of 24, and a few months later they wrote about me because I was arrested in an attempt to occupy a palace in order to transform it into a school for poor kids.

Meanwhile, I started to work in the Emergency Room of the largest hospital in Palermo. After only a short while, by February 1978, I was so depressed that I seriously thought about suicide. This was the first and last time in my life that I really wanted to kill myself.

My girlfriend at that time helped me a lot and convinced me to leave Italy with her and go somewhere in the world where we could live for a while in nature. Up to that moment I had never read anything about spiritual masters or spiritual research; I had read Lenin-Trotsky-Cooper- Laing; those were my bibles, and I never thought there could be anything else. So one day, in our flat in the old part of town, we took the decision to leave Italy, but where to? We decided to flip a coin: should it land heads up, we would go to South America; should it land on the other side, to India.

India was the answer; we did not know anything about this country, and I was also broke and had to ask a friend to lend me some money to start out on our travels. The idea was to arrive in India via the land route, then to take a boat to the Maldives and live there for a year or so. During our travels, I felt a kind of deep cleaning of all my belief systems happening; reality was so much larger than I had thought it to be. Everything was huge-vast-difficult-exhausting-hot, a completely new experience. In particular, the more we travelled east, the more crazy life seemed to be; more illogical, but at the same time more alive and juicy.

We reached Pakistan after one month and were really, really exhausted; the temperature was 50 degrees centigrade in the shade and we had passed through deserts and very uncomfortable places. In the city of Quetta, I spent all night in a shower stall, completely abandoned; my life force was gone and I believed the end had come. Why? I was asking myself, why am I on this trip, for what? What was pulling me to India so strongly?

When we finally entered India, a sense of familiarity came up. The chaos seemed natural and human, and the rigid social structures of Europe were very far away already. We reached Bombay in April 1978, and we inquired about a boat to the Maldives.

It took us a long time to understand that there was only one boat a month and that the last one had left just a few days before, so we would have to wait almost a month in Bombay if we wanted to go to the islands.

The idea to stay for one month in that big city with such chaotic traffic, noise, and heavily polluted air to breathe was far from our minds. We decided to go somewhere else to wait – and it was only in that moment that I remembered that I had one address on me – a post card from my best friend during university days which she had sent a few months before I left Italy. She was a very convinced and determined feminist who had left half a year before us and had written, “Here everything is orange – even the soap – and I have never been so happy in my life.” I thought she was in a kind of hippy community, stoned and in high spirits. But as it was our only contact and seeing that the city was very close to Bombay, we found ourselves on a train to Poona.

We arrived in the night, and when we reached the address, 17 Koregaon Park, it was dark and empty. However, standing in the middle of the street, a tall and strong-looking guy stopped us and bullied the rickshaw driver to turn and go. I could not understand and tried to speak with this Viking in the middle of nowhere, but he was persistent and repeated that we could come the next day, from 5.30 am on. Why 5.30 am, and why was a tall German man in the middle of the night, in the middle of the road, preventing us from going inside? It all seemed so absurd, but we drove off, found a hotel, and finally got some sleep.

The next morning, we were very curious about seeing this place, which I thought to be just a flat with a few drugged guys inside. But when we reached 17 Koregaon Park again, this time bright with the strong light of the Indian morning sun, everything looked different. The rickshaw stopped in front of a huge wooden gate, and hundreds and hundreds of people dressed in orange clothing were coming out, scattering all over the gardens. I remember very clearly that my mind was in a sort of limbo on that morning, having this vision of beautiful humans, men and women, all dressed in long orange robes. I had never seen so many beautiful women in my life, and the men looked impressive and very masculine with their long beards and long hair.

The mind was silent, looking… and in a severe shock. At that time, I didn’t speak any English, and my second language was French, so I didn’t understand what anybody was saying. A different Viking from the night before took my arm and told me to sit at the gate; I was totally surrendered and sat and looked and looked at all those Eves and Adams hugging each other and seemingly enjoying life.

After a while, I noticed a lady with white hair running towards the gate from inside the ashram; she was running so happily that I continued watching her, and the most amazing thing was that she was running towards me, and when she reached, she hugged me with such joy that I started crying and crying and felt I was melting. She then explained, “Finally you have arrived; we were waiting for you for so long!”

I am crying even now while I am writing this.

The name of this white-haired angel was Ma Bhakti from Italy, and her daughter Deeksha was running the kitchen and famous for being dubbed the Zen Master in the ashram; some time later, Osho sent me to work with her, and I stayed there until 1981, when Osho left for America.

From that moment, my being was in a different realm of consciousness; Bhakti took me inside the ashram and helped me find my old friend from university. Palermo, at that point, was completely erased from my mind, and the past was foggy and oblivious. Among all those many people, we found my old friend, who literally rolled on the pavement with joy and laughter about our meeting at the ashram. This was the beginning of a series of events that changed my life and turned it upside-down. They took me inside the Buddha Hall, where discourse was just over, and an Indian Swami called Bodhisattva was conducting a collective healing session. More and more, I was in a state of astonishment and disbelief.

In the afternoon, my friend, who had been given a new name, Renu, took me to a British-colonial villa a few miles away from the ashram, where many Italians were living together. They told me to remove the black pants and black shirt I was wearing and gave me a female orange robe to put on, in which I felt awkward, but by now the judgemental part of my mind had left me.

During that night, another strong experience happened in the hall of the villa where about a dozen Italian men had gathered; Renu introduced me, and shortly afterwards, a man with the typical long beard of the sannyasins looked at me and said without a voice, “We start to talk without words.” and I could really hear him and we spoke without voice: I could hear him and he answered me, and then he told me (in silence) to play bongos with him. I had never played bongos before, so I did not want to do such a thing, but he insisted, so I took those strange instruments and started to play with him in a kind of trance; we played for a long time, and people around us enjoyed dancing and singing to the music. I was part of the group by the end of the evening, became friends with all of them and lived in that villa for many months.

The next morning, THE GREAT EVENT was to happen, the Master’s morning discourse. Everybody’s life in the community revolved around the morning discourse of the Master, at that time called Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. I went clad in that strange orange robe and stood in a queue with some thousands of other people. The impact was very strong, but this time I understood not to look outside anymore, and I quietly entered the Buddha Hall.

Silence and birds singing, and green all over, and silence… then at a certain point, the sound of a car approaching the hall… the silence going even deeper, and all of sudden, HE WAS THERE… A HUGE CLOUD OF WHITE LIGHT AND IN THE MIDDLE – HE.

The light seemed like a sun but not painful and not hot, but so intense and total that nothing else existed. In the same instant, my heart exploded into tears, and I felt like one of the newborn babies I had seen coming to life in the delivery rooms of the hospital – there was a big explosion, and I burst into tears, feeling I AM HOME. I think I cried for a long time, and physically my chest felt painful, but my mind was absent: no thoughts, no judgement, no ideas, nothing except for the feeling of BEING HOME  and the clarity that everything I had been searching for in my life was HE and was now in front of me. I saw that I had had to do so many things; so much effort, so many lives, so many struggles to reach home, and now I had reached: HOME WAS HE, THE SEARCH WAS OVER.

I never left HIM anymore until HE left the body on January 19, 1990. I forgot my previous life, my parents, my country, my friends, my job, my image; everything became secondary and I kept this feeling always, always… until now HE IS MY PRIORITY.

From that day on, I felt at home in India; I felt at home in Poona, I felt at home in the commune, I felt at home with all the friends who were coming from all over the world; and the alternative that I had been unable to see in Palermo after the destruction of the movement was now clearly in front of me: the only way to change is to go INSIDE and to discover the divine energy which is in all of us.

A few days later, this time with a new orange-coloured robe, I went into what was called The Office, where a group of women were running the commune. I went because I wanted to be part of this crazy and happy international family of seekers of truth, and in order to do this, I had been informed that I had to ask for a sannyas initiation. I didn’t know what that was, but I was not looking for explanations. I just wanted to be near HIM and together with the other lovers of HIM.

The woman in charge of giving appointment dates to see Bhagwan and to take sannyas was called Arup, a tall Dutch woman, smiling and honest-looking. She asked me, “How many therapy groups did you do so far?” I answered that I didn’t know what a group is and what she was talking about. She then said, “Did you do any meditations so far?” and again I said I didn’t know what meditation is. She then smiled and asked why I had come, and I told her very innocently that I didn’t know but that I wanted to be here and I wanted to be with HIM.

At that time, before taking sannyas, one had to go through months of therapy and attend a few meditation camps, but I was so open and naive that she gave me a date a few days ahead with the possibility to take sannyas. So the second meeting with HIM would be soon, and this time intimately close.

It has been a common experience for people who have been with HIM during those days that time had a really different quality living close to the Master; it seemed like time shrank and almost disappeared, so events that happened within a few days felt like they had taken months or years. So to recall exactly the events of those days is hard. Anyway, I think it was three or four days after I had asked for sannyas that I saw HIM. The house where HE lived was called Lao Tzu, and a gate separated the house from the rest of the commune.

Every evening, a bunch of people gathered in front of Lao Tzu Gate in order to see HIM, but before entering, there was one of the thousands of devices that were part of the life of a sannyasin: two women were sniffing everybody in order to decide if a person could enter or not, as Bhagwan was sensitive to fragrances and odours. If one of the girls smelled a fragrance, that person was not allowed to enter, full stop.

Obviously, everybody was shaky before being sniffed, and it was only after passing the sniff control that one knew one was going to see HIM. Not all the people who had appointments wanted to talk to HIM or have a darshan (darshan means a close meeting with the Master); many were spectators and just glad to be there in the same room when people were initiated, spoke to HIM or had an energy darshan.

As I couldn’t speak English, I was allotted a female translator who would sit behind me to translate HIS words for me. I passed the sniff test, and what I remember most from those days is that before seeing HIM everything happened in such an easy and relaxed way, like a river flowing gently. No obstacles, it was like a magnet pulling me gently towards the centre. The house was literally covered with green plants and trees, and the garden we walked through before entering the auditorium looked like magic, full of birds and parrots singing and celebrating.

When I utter such words now, I can imagine people thinking that we were all spaced out or hypnotized, but this was not a trip or an illusion, it was reality – reality at its best. Reality was a paradise around HIM. The moment I entered, I felt I was in a dimension which I hadn’t experienced before in this life, but for sure it reminded me of another space of consciousness that I knew-the space of Peace-Tranquillity-Love-Harmony-No Conflict-No Desires.

I sat down on the marble floor; HE was not yet inside the room. In silence we waited for HIS PRESENCE… then again an INTENSE WHITE LIGHT appeared but this time HIS body was not small, but huge and right in front of me. My mind again STOPPED.

Once HE sat down HE looked human, but compared to other humans, looking into HIS eyes, one got a feeling of being stoned and peaceful. HE called people for sannyas first, and to each of them HE gave a new name and a mala, a necklace of 108 rosewood beads. HE poured out so much love and care for each person; to all HE gave total attention and compassion. My mind, I repeat, was not functioning, so I only remember I was observing with an open heart all this love that was coming from HIM.

Then my name was called, so I stood up, walked towards HIM, sat at HIS feet, and got lost in HIS eyes during the entire time HE was talking and explaining the meaning of my name. The most vivid sensation I had while I was looking into HIS eyes was to be moving into an abyss of darkness and space, as if I had been shot into space without a spacecraft, and my body was floating in the air without gravity.

An abyss of beatitude inside HIM… space and space and words that were coming out of HIS mouth, which did not affect the feeling of being lost within HIM. HE was talking about the difference between Small Love and Big Love, saying that all relations between a man and a woman are part of the Small Love and that this was not my path. HE reinforced this by saying that even the story of Romeo and Juliet was part of the Small Love and that there is no way that I would be satisfied by that kind of love. Sometime later, I remembered that I had been born in Verona, the city where the story of Romeo and Julia had taken place.

Love for existence was my path, love for all humans, love for God, or better, godliness. Love that flows like a river towards the ocean and that merges with the ocean; and in that merging, the ego disappears and only bliss remains.

While HE was talking, at a certain point, HE paused and said, “…come close to me.” HE pointed HIS finger to my face, opened HIS eyes very wide and said, “and remember from now you can drop politics, sociology and psychology!” HE then continued to talk about love.

In that moment I felt very clearly that HE knew me much better than I knew myself or any other being in the world; in that moment I accepted HIM as a Master, a Guide to which I surrendered my mind and recognized that I had been lost in the fog of my ego for all my life.

Something funny happened between us while HE was talking: HE used to show the paper where HE wrote the new name to the initiate, and when HE showed me my paper, I instinctively took it and pulled it towards me so that I could keep it, but HE kept holding the paper in HIS hand – so the entire time while HE was talking, there was this strange persistent game going on that HE was pulling the paper and I was pulling the paper. I only remembered this afterwards, while it was happening I was lost in HIS eyes.

 

“The idea of rebellion is not new, but the idea of rebellion combined with enlightenment is absolutely new – it is my contribution. And if we can make the majority of humanity more conscious, more aware, with a few individuals reaching to the highest peak of enlightenment, then their rebellion will bring anarchism just like a shadow, following on its own accord.”

Osho, The Rebel, Ch 11, Q 2

From the book, Past the Point of No Return by Ma Anand Bhagawati