Tale 13 : One Hundred Tales For Ten Thousand Buddhas

Tale 13 : One Hundred Tales For Ten Thousand Buddhas

 

Tale 13 : One Hundred Tales For Ten Thousand Buddhas

 

Osho has arrived from Jabalpur. He has to go to Udaipur by plane. For days Indian Airlines has been on strike and we are hoping that it will be over any moment; but the strike continues. We can’t think of any other alternative for reaching Udaipur and suggest that the meditation camp be postponed for a while. but Osho is determined to reach there in time. We wonder how it can be possible–all train reservations authorities to attach an extra air conditioned compartment with “Gujarat Mail Train” for Ahmedabad and reserve eight sleepers for friends who are going with Him. To our surprise, the officer in charge of reservation, is excited at the idea, look at the waiting list and rush back to inform Osho and other friends to get ready and reach Bombay central Station by 8:00pm.

We are all overjoyed to traveling with Him in the same compartment. Everybody has arrived on time. Osho looks very happy. He is sitting on His sleeper, cross-legged, surrounded by us. He tells us jokes, and the whole compartment is full of laughter. People come to peep in to see what is going on. After a while we leave Him alone and occupy our sleepers.

The train arrives in Ahmedabad on time. After having breakfast at one of the friend’s house, we hire two taxis to reach Udaipur by road. It is very hot. In our deep unconsciousness we don’t even think of having an air conditioned car for Him. It is a long journey of about 6-8 hours. Osho is sitting in the back seat of the taxi with a friend, and I am sitting in front with the driver. I am perspiring and have got a headache watching the dirty, unending road ahead of us.

I look back. Osho is sitting with His eyes closed, as if disconnected from the outside world. I wonder when I will learn to be able to do that–it looks like an impossible task. I feel that somehow I have disturbed Him, and He opens His eyes and asks for a soda. Traveling around continuously in different parts of India, He has stopped drinking water. We stop the taxi. I take out a soda from the big thermos kept in the back and soak a little napkin in cold water.

After He finishes the soda, I give Him the wet napkin to keep on His head. He takes it and does as I suggest, like a small child, and feeling the coolness of it asks me from where I have learnt “all these tricks”! It is so hot, the napkin gets dry within half an hour and I keep replacing it with wet ones until we reach our destination.