One Hundred Tales for Ten Thousand Buddhas

By Ma Dharm Jyoti

One Hundred Tales For Ten Thousand Buddhas—this is an essential book. There exists no other quite like it. It is a collection of living moments with the living Buddha. It is not some events remembered and then adorned with reactions. These are tales vitally alive.  These tales are a great gift for all of us—those who have sat with the living Master and those who haven’t. It is a book for all seekers. It is also a book for those who are not actively seeking, but surely have the same longing-the longing for a taste of that love which has no bondage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Oct 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9788128822872

Book preview

100

1

I am twenty-six years old. It is Sunday, 21st January, 1968 and today Osho will be speaking at 4:00pm in Sunmukhananda Hall in Bombay. One of my friends, knowing my quest for truth, advises me to go and listen to Him. I have already heard so many so-called saints and mahatmas that I am disillusioned by this religious game going on in India. But somehow, Osho, who is known as Acharya Rajneesh, attracts me. I decide to go to His discourse.

At 4:00pm I find my way to the second floor balcony of Sunmukhananda Hall, which is over-crowded. Lots of people are standing on the sides near the walls and there is quite an excitement in the air. It is very noisy. This is one of the biggest auditoriums in Bombay, with the capacity to hold about five thousand people. I find a seat, make myself comfortable, and try to relax.

Within minutes a man with a beard, wearing a white lunghi and shawl appears on the podium, namastes the audience with folded hands and sits down in the lotus posture. I am sitting quite far away from the podium and can hardly see His face, but my heart is throbbing with excitement in anticipation of listening to this unknown man.

In a few moments I hear His sweet but strong voice addressing the audience as Mere Priya Atman-my beloved souls. Suddenly there is pindrop silence in the auditorium. I experience His voice taking me into a deep relaxation and I am listening to Him in utter silence. My mind has stopped: only His voice is echoing inside me. I am in a total Aha! and wonder: He is answering all the questions which have been bothering me for years.

The discourse is over, my heart is dancing with joy, and I tell my friend, He is the Master I am looking for. I have found Him. I come out and buy a few books and a magazine called Jyoti Shikha. As I open it, I see that the headline on the page reads Acharya Rajneesh’s 36th Birthday Celebration. I can’t believe it—I am sure it is a printing mistake and it should be 63. I ask the girl at the counter; she laughs and says that 36 is right. I still can’t believe that I have heard the discourse of a man who is only thirty-six years old. From His speech He sounds like an ancient rishi of the times of the Upanishads.

2

I start reading His books and find myself totally unbur-dened of my borrowed knowledge. His words leave me alone in utter emptiness. My heart is longing to meet Him. I find the phone number and address of the centre in Bombay called Jeevan Jagruti Kendra. I call there and inquire about Osho and am told of the coming meditation camp at Nargol where I will be able to meet Him. I am overjoyed and wait impatiently to go to this meditation camp.

Finally, the day of His first close-up darshan—when I will be able to sit near His feet—at Nargol has arrived. There are about five hundred people in the camp; it is a beautiful place on the seashore, surrounded by tall trees. I find my tree near the makeshift podium and make myself comfortable underneath it. My eyes are glued to the pathway from where He will be coming, and in a few moments I see Him coming in all His beauty and grace, wearing a white lunghi and a shawl wrapped around the upper part of His body. I can literally see some kind of pure light surrounding Him. He has a magical presence, not of this world. He namastes the audience with folded hands and sits in the lotus posture on the little square table covered with a white cotton sheet.

He starts speaking, but His words are slipping away above my head. There is utter silence all around except for His voice and the sound of waves from the distance. I don’t know how long He spoke: when I open my eyes He has already gone. I am feeling something like a dying experience. He has tugged at my heart like a magnet pulling a piece of metal, and I am unable to sleep the whole night. Wandering on the seashore I look around with empty eyes. The sky is full of stars and I have never experienced such silence and beauty before. My heart wants to shout, Where is He? I want to meet Him!

3

I n the morning at eight o’clock, we gather again at the same place for His discourse—He will be answering our questions, and many people are handing in pieces of paper to a man who is working as His secretary. I gather courage and write down my experience, asking Him what is happening to me. I hand in my question, and sit a little away, among the others, trying to hide myself.

Here He comes again, with His beauty and grace, namastes everyone, and sitting in the lotus posture starts reading the questions. My heart starts beating fast when I see my pink paper in His hand. Somehow, I am feeling ashamed, wondering what He will think about me after reading my question. To my surprise, after reading the question-actually it is not a question but a description of the experience I felt when I first heard Him…of being pulled by a magnet, a sensation like dying-He starts looking at the audience from His far left, and when His eyes rest on me, He looks no further. I bow down, frozen, knowing that He knows it is my question. He has read it to Himself, and passes on to other questions.

After the discourse is over, people are going near Him to touch His feet, and He is touching their heads. I am watching all this from the distance, not daring to go near Him. Finally, when He gets up to leave, I rush towards Him and as I approach Him He gives me a smile and says, You wrote that? I nod my head in affirmation and bow down to touch His feet. He places His hand on my head, and as I get up He says, Come and see me in the afternoon.

4

A t 2:00pm I reach the bungalow where He is staying. Lots of people have already arrived and are waiting to meet Him. His secretary comes, and people start going to His room, one by one. Mostly, everyone comes out within two or three minutes. Now the woman standing in front of me is going in; my turn, is next. Just to see how she meets Osho, I peep in through the window when she walks in. Osho is sitting on a sofa and the floor is carpeted. The woman bows down to Osho, touches His feet and sits on the carpet. I say to myself, This seems to be the right way to meet Him. My heart is throbbing in excitement, and at the same time is gripped by some unknown fear. In a couple of minutes the woman comes out and I enter the room.

Osho greets me with a big smile. I simply forget everything and am pulled towards Him. I hug Him, and He receives it with such love that I feel it is not only I who has found Him, He has also found a lost child. He looks very happy and makes me sit next to Him on His left side, on the sofa. With His left hand He is caressing my back and places His right hand in my hands. I look in His eyes-they are full of love and light, and I feel that I have known this man for eternity. By His magical touch He is doing some miracle, and I come back to the normal state from that dying experience which had started when I had listened to His discourse the night before.

He asks me what I am doing in my life but I am unable to speak. He says, Don’t be worried; everything will be okay By now I am able to talk, and I tell Him I am working in a transport company in Bombay.

He asks, Will you do my work?

Not knowing what his work is, I simply nod my head.

He calls His secretary in and introduces me to him and tells me, Keep in touch with him.

In a couple of minutes I get up to leave, walk two or three steps and again look back at Him. He simply smiles, and I return and sit near His feet on the carpet.

He says, Close you eyes, and places His right foot on my heart centre. I feel some energy flowing through His foot and entering my body and my mind goes blank, I only hear the sound of my breath. It feels as if time has stopped. Maybe it is just a couple of minutes later that I hear His voice saying, Come back…open your eyes slowly. He slowly takes His foot away, and when I open my eyes He is sitting with His eyes closed. I slowly get up and slip out of the room with my heart dancing in joy. It is as if I have found some lost treasure.

5

A fter this meditation camp, when I return to Bombay I find myself lost in the crowd of people. This intense longing to meet Him again has disturbed my sleep. Almost every night I see Him in my dreams, talking to me. I start writing a letter to Him every day and expect a quick reply from Him. I have totally forgotten that the letter will take at least three days to reach Him, and even if He replies the same day he receives it, it will take three more days to reach me. Sometimes I feel angry at Him for driving me crazy like this—I don’t know how I am managing to keep myself together and continue my work in the office.

A couple of weeks have passed. Today I am coming down from the first floor to leave my office