Swami Anand Rudra: 1939 – 2011


Madhuri remembers her brother who left his body on on 14th June 2011

Sw. Anand Rudra left his body in Vancouver, B.C. at 8:30 a.m. on 14th June, two days before he would have been 74. His two sons, two of his four brothers, his mother, Devadasi, and his sister Sarita sat with him the night before he left.

His son Galan and Galan’s wife Laura had cared for him in their flat since his diagnosis in mid-May; they brought awesome devotion, respect, love and wisdom to this task.

I visited for the last week of May. He had throat cancer and could barely speak, but he asked me for a session and we did some healing/revealing dialoguing. Sarita did Bardo work with him just before, and for the week after his leaving.

Rudra had smoked since age 16 with a singleminded devotion. I have to use that ‘d’ word again because it really was that – he took ‘smoking temple’ seriously and attended all his smoking activities with much ceremony. He rolled his own organic tobacco, and chose to believe that it was harmless. He drank wine in the same way – regularly, doggedly, with respect for the grape and the weed – if not for his own body. He ate very little, choosing to use his small funds on smoke and drink instead. But that, I felt, was his business….

Here is how I remember Rudra: When I was a very small girl, he was my handsome, tall, glamourous brother in jeans, turtleneck, and bare feet à la Beatnik. He, of everyone in our chaotic household, treated me like a grownup – with respect and admiration. That was truly his nature – and he treated his sons the same way, and they loved him for it.

Rudra was a Manifestor who rebelled against the Establishment always, no matter that this led him into poverty, discomfort, and unemployment. He was absolutely dignified in his privation – born in the bone dignity. He had several degrees in mathematics and computer science, but when he discovered that an employer was somehow involved in clear-cutting forests, he quit the job. He did teach junior college and enjoyed this.

He left the U.S. in his early twenties and emigrated to Canada. I did not see him then for many years.

But when I took sannyas, alongside our mother, in 1973, we showed Osho a photo of Rudra and his then-wife and two sons. Osho immediately wrote out names for them and gave us malas to give them! I have never heard of another instance of unasked-for sannyas!

It was many years before Rudra, then into Sufism, met Osho. He spent one day in Rajneeshpuram, and saw Osho from afar in Buddha Hall. The Moms would not allow our brother to spend the night camping in a field beside his motorcycle, so, without rancor, he left. (He of course had no money for tent or hotel!) During Poona 2 I gave him the gift of six months in Poona. He participated in a work program, and found in it endless inspiration (and several girlfriends -he was a man for the women, always and always! His devoted admiration for the Goddess was a theme of his life.)

On New Year’s Day 2004 he once again came to Poona – this time to care for me after my brain surgery. He trotted meals across the campus from Mariam three times a day, enjoying the smoking temple and everyone he met there in between. He was a wonderful companion for me then, for he had two great gifts: an absolutely non-interfering nature; and he was a poet. He read Walt Whitman aloud to me in his beautiful deep voice while I lay on an assan in the Nulla Park. He received and read the profusion of poems pouring from me in my rebirth. He really read them; he appreciated, commented. And he wrote his own, and read them to me. This was medicine indeed.

Later he and Nisarg and I spent a winter month together in her flat in Tuscany. It was cold, cramped – yet magical and luminous. He called out the best in people, and encouraged them to share it. He has edited two books of mine with application, skill and perceptiveness.

During his last years he worked on two different websites – one to make Human Design information more accessible, and one with his own poems (which he called ‘verse’) on it. His poems were tightly-woven, mathematically rhythmic. He turned and turned them as if on a lathe until they emerged round and splinter-free. He wrote verse in protest of, verse in praise of. He loved drums and his poetry often had a beat like that of feet walking, of thoughts coming back to the beginning; yet always taking off into some new place. He loved intricate mental machinations, often, I felt, in neglect of his emotional life…but what do I know?

He adored his four little granddaughters and admired their sayings, their dancings, in the same respectful way he had treated me.

That respect goes a long way – for I have never forgotten it. It was a beacon in my childhood. He also loved boats, and built a wooden canoe for trips amongst the islands near Vancouver. He had lived on many of those islands over the years. He loved woods and water, eagles, sky, and stars. And he loved Sacred Geometry.

He discovered he had cancer in mid-May. He was never one for doctors, and his son finally dragged him to one. By that time the tumor was inoperable and he was too frail for chemo. He refused radiation. The disease went through him like a brush fire, and in a month he was gone. I would not recommend it as a way to die – and since his going I want to tell every smoker I see about it. It was a quick and brutal finishing, embarked on slowly and over time.

I loved him, and love him still – as do many. He was an extraordinary, lone, lonely, innocent, brilliant, and above all devotional being – he loved the Master, and gifts where he saw them in others, and he loved his own way – the way that was his alone.

Goodbye, Rudra – travel well and lightly, travel deep!



A memorial is planned for August 13th on Quadra Island, B.C.
Contact email Madhuri: madhurijewel (at) yahoo (dot) com
Contact email Nathaniel Akin: fx (at) aboutfx (dot) com


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I would have loved to meet him. There are only three or four people in the world that Osho named Rudra and I never knew about him. Farewell my friend….
Sw Anand Rudra

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