Prem Amoha


(14 February 1943 – 16 March 2019)

100 Garden-2
090 Amoha2018
080 Arun-event
070 PujanAmoha
060 Amoha+Pujan-G
050 AmohaPujanFood
040 AmohaCar
030 AmohaHorse1
020 AmohaTeenager
010 Amoha-at-6

Pujan writes:

My beloved Amoha was born on Valentine’s Day in 1943 in Los Angeles County. She left her body on March 16, 2019. We shared our lives for over thirty-five years and I miss her terribly.

Living with her meant that life never got boring. She had some rare qualities. One of them was her unwavering determination. A few events may give a taste of it. When she was four she wanted a horse. To get her off his back, her father said, “If you can buy one you can have one.”

By age six she had made enough money to pay for her beloved Arab by selling Christmas cards and cookies. After finishing her daily chores she enjoyed nothing more then riding out together with her dog, often till late in the evening. Oh, and she never ever used a saddle as she wanted her horse and herself free of all unnecessary constraints.

This love for freedom led her to get her pilot license at sixteen. Feeling like a bird in the sky was one of her greatest joys. To make some money, she flew people over the mountains to Las Vegas where they would gamble as she was enjoying the swimming pool. Did I mention that she loved fast, unique sports cars? They were really expensive but no hindrance for her. She called up scrap dealers to get totals and parts till she had enough for a car, and then had a mechanic friend put it together like an Austin-Healy Bugeye or her favorite, a Jaguar XKE.

This unwavering determination was the source of energy to find her Master. She knew all her life that he existed, but she did not know where he was. She was looking and waiting for signs everywhere. In 1968 she got an inner message, as she explained to me, telling her she could join him in India where he had started talking or she could wait for him in America. He would come in seven years and it would be more helpful if she waited there. So she did, trusting. But she did not expect him to be seven years late, as she told to me.

She and her mother’s friend Millen were very much involved in Theosophy. Amoha considered Millen as her mentor when she was young. Millen had unique friends like L. Ron Hubbard, Alan Watts, Paul Reps and others. This gave Amoha a chance to meet some of them when she was a youngster.

At one time she decided to move to Oregon and create a live-in commune with around thirty people, based on Theosophical teachings especially those written by Alice Bailey. One day, still searching and meditating at Meditation Mountain in Ojai, California, she heard the message, “Go back to square one, he is there.” For her square one was Oregon and so she went.

Coming across the Portland Bakery run by sannyasins, she was told that their master lived near Antelope. She just got into her car and took off; approaching the Ranch she realized she had found him. Upon arrival she asked immediately for sannyas, and a few days later was initiated as Prem Amoha which means “Love Beyond Delusion.”

After returning to her Oregon City commune, everyone took sannyas and it became the nearest sannyas commune to the ranch. And as the fates wanted it, that is why I went there after having to leave the Ranch and we have been together ever since.

All our efforts went into staying as close to Osho as we could, spending much time on the Ranch. In Pune Two she was the editor of the Rajneesh Times for a while and then worked in Publications.

We finally settled in Sedona to join Kaveesha’s Osho Mystery School, aka the Osho Academy. Amoha was taken totally by surprise when she was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic liver cancer in December 2018, because nobody in her family ever had cancer and all died of old age, like her grandmother at 101.

As her determination came from a place of knowing and surrendering to it, she accepted the diagnosis without hesitation, saying yes to life and death. She told me at one point, when I had tears in my eyes: “Don’t worry about me. I am fine.” Then after a pause, “If I worry, it is about you.”

With that, nothing else had to be said. She lived the rest of her life moment to moment, enjoying the food (especially things she had not tasted for a long time like mango ice cream or things with pickles), television, her hair and nail salon, and our daily Osho discourse in the morning.

Thanks to Viramo for organizing this tribute


You can leave a message / tribute / anecdote using our contact form (pls add ‘Amoha’ in the subject field).

Love to you, Pujan, and gratitude for your beautiful and heartfelt sharing. You and Amoha were my long-time hosts during my years in Sedona, and my fellow students at the Osho Academy. Yes, what a strong woman with so much guts and determination… and silence… Thank you for sharing your beautiful space and incredible garden with me and all the other students. Satyam Shivam Sundaram from
Pratibha in Munich

Beloved Amoha, I remember you and your giant house so vividly. You were fun-loving and a haven for other sannyasins in Oregon. Thank you for sharing your being with us. Fly high, dear one. Love.

Sadness that your body had to go, grateful that it went quickly. First a stroke, then metastatic cancer. You always were a warrioress, always daring to tell the truth. Your trust in Kaveesha, and all things Mystery School, was an inspiration for my cynical mind. You showed great valor, and you will be missed by many, beloved.

Fly high Beloved.
Thank you for sharing the path with me for a little while in this life with this amazing Master.
Pujan, I am holding you in my heart. This must be such a sad and difficult time for you.
Love love love

Love to you from your Tai Chi class partners,
Libs and Viramo

Only once before have I had the opportunity to sit with a beloved as they were leaving, and it was an immense gift. There were many of her beloved fellow sannyasins from Sedona there, as well as her lovely children and friends. We felt her relaxing with her beloveds around her. We sang the Osho song “Nothing is Said”. The presence that filled the room was overwhelming and pulled us all into a deep, deep silence. Osho’s presence was tangible. Kaveesha, whom Amoha had also deeply loved was also totally feelable – and we all fell deeper and deeper into stillness.
As we sat with her again and again our eyes met, acknowledging the indescribable. At one point, when Pujan was playing music, it became like a dance all over the room. Her lovely and sensitive step-daughter said, “It is like she is dancing with the angels!”
When she was gone from her body, there was beauty and joy all around.
So grateful, beloved Osho, that you taught us to treasure and celebrate the unknown mystery of death. And so grateful, beloved Amoha, that we could share this great adventure with you! Fly high, beloved friend!
Maneesha McClure

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