…left her body on 15th November 2015.
Ma Prem Anado (Nicoletta Machiavelli) was born in Italy in 1944; her father was Florentine and her mother, American of Scottish-Irish descent. She was a descendant of Niccolò Machiavelli, the Italian Renaissance historian, politician, diplomat, and philosopher. At a young age she became an actress, starring in more than 40 movies. She became a disciple of Osho in 1978 and retired from the movie business. She has been living in Pune and Rajneeshpuram, together with her son Nirjo (Wega). In 1985 she moved to Seattle, WA, where she taught Italian to adults in classes and gave private lessons. She also offered customised itineraries to various regions in Italy, and gave cooking classes. She was dedicated to her grandson, Alessio.
An anecdote from Bhagawati (previously published in 2005 by Viha Connection):
When Anado was teaching Italian to adults in Seattle, during one of her advanced classes on Fat Tuesday, she asked her students to tell a story in Italian about their favorite costume or costume party. One of them, a 50 year-old intellectual, leftist, retired medical doctor told his:
“The best costume thing I did was around 15 years ago when me and a bunch of friends here in Seattle decided to dress up like Rajneeshees. Remember those people that had invaded a little town in Oregon and were followers of the Indian guru with 100 Rolls Royces?
We all dressed in orange and red clothes and went down to the main square!”
Anando Emanuela writes:
Yesterday, November 15 at 12:06pm Anado stopped breathing, surrounded by the love of her family and the presence of her friends in Seattle, WA.
The disease began in March, and the progress was fast. For years we were very close: she came to visit in Maremma, Italy, where I live, a couple of times a year and I spent time with her in Seattle every year when I came to America to visit my son.
My dear friend, sister in the heart, generous, intelligent, beautiful, full of love and energy, contagious joie de vivre.
When I heard that doctors gave her only a short time to live, I tried in a hurry to be with her again, but a series of circumstances postponed my trip by a couple of weeks…and it is as if she had expected that… Saturday morning, when I reached the nursing home, she opened her eyes and recognized me. I spent the day and night with her; in the morning came friends who had been very close during the disease, and then came Prem Nirjo, her son. I sat next to her in meditation when her breathing stopped.
It was a rainy day and this was forecast to remain so, but suddenly, believe me, the sun came out…
Related Osho darshan
That Is The Way To God
Read Anado’s story of her taking sannyas
Article from Exceptional magazine
Actress Machiavelli Now Star Teacher
My heart knows you will continue to fly high, dearly beloved soul sister! You have taught me much, made me laugh and enjoy your presence so much! Fare well…
I remember you well… so sorry to hear you’ve left us, beloved one.
Addio, dear friend.
I will miss you deeply.
And I wish you well on your next adventure!
Dear Sister, the last time we met we eat well what you cooked, drank well what you served and laughed a thousand laughs. May you dance into this journey….. Remember you with deepest gratitude and love,
Nicoletta, non un amico, un conoscente di altri tempi, molto addolorato.
I knew Ma Anado as my first dental receptionist in Poona 1. I had asked Vidya to find a dental receptionist for the about-to-open new dental office. I asked for somebody who knew a little bit about dentistry. Anado was somehow ‘selected’.
I first saw her as a tall, smouldering eyed Italian beauty, at least 4 inches taller than me. Asked about her experience of dentistry she looked at me blankly as if I had posed an esoteric question. She was the great, great, great, great granddaughter of Machiavelli, so I was told, and, an aspiring Italian film star. As a dental receptionist she was very like Machiavelli, for several weeks I only saw Italian patients. I was naive. Anado was not.
Her son Neerjo, was a small, compact, tough, with a voice stronger than Pavorotti and a vocabulary of swear words in a multiplicity of languages unknown to me but clearly recognised by my waiting clients. He would daily scream, shout, holler and demand chocolate through Anado’s receptionist window while she stayed magnificently aloof.
Anado was an integral part of my joyful entry into life in The Ashram in Pune.
Although I have not seen her for many years she stands clear and beautiful in my memory of those unsurpassable years. Love,