Shambhu / Gunateet


…left his body on 2 January 2021.

Shambhu 2
Shambhu 7
Shambhu 8
Shambhu 9

Anasuya (Prashna) writes:

44 years ago, in 1976, I met Gunateet – later known as Shambhu – in Avignon.

You were all dressed in orange, a guitar on your shoulder and had this amazing fragrance that I recognized later as being the fragrance of the Master. You took me through the beautiful land of Provence, made me discover this amazing nature in your playful way, and gave me a book, No Water No Moon, by a man called Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, aka Osho.

In the ashram in Poona, you mingled with everyone in your rebel and whimsical way, and everyone remembers you as a unique, joyfully crazy, independent and wild being, often in company of beautiful apsaras. You fell in love with India, traveled with your guitar through the ancient land from Goa to Rajasthan, always coming back to Poona, to the Master.

The Ranch in Oregon was not for you. At that time, you lived in Sweden and had your first child, Padma. On Osho’s return to India we met again in Poona Two where we played, enjoyed, and meditated in Osho’s Buddhafield along with hundreds of Osho’s fellow travelers.

After Osho left his body, I met H.W.L. Poonja, aka Papaji, in Lucknow. Inspired by our fire for freedom kindled by Papaji’s presence, Shambhu also came up to Lucknow and stayed there until Papaji’s mahasamadhi. Papaji gave him a new name, and Gunateet became Shambhu. While in Lucknow, he bought himself one of those big 4×4 Jeeps and was occasionally driving visitors to and from the airport. He also took some trips to Rajasthan and to other great areas in India, as he loved to drive.

During one of those trips he met Ranjit Maharaj in Mumbai for a fortnight. When asked by Maharaj what he was doing in Lucknow, his first answer was: “Taxi driver.” His answers could be quite unexpected!

After Papaji left his body, as destiny wanted it, Shambhu met Ganga Mira who earlier had been Papaji’s wife and with whom she had a daughter named Mukti. Ganga Mira was and is a stunning woman who herself has become a spiritual authority. Later on, in 1999 in Tiruvannamalai, the abode of the great Sage Ramana Maharshi, he fell passionately in love with Mukti, as Shambhu was a man of passion. Their union was blessed in a totally unexpected and magical way by a brahmin priest in the Big Temple of Tiruvannamalai, a Hindu temple dedicated to the deity Shiva, located at the base of holy hill of Arunachala.

In the following years, Shambhu and Mukti had two gorgeous children, Arun and Satya.

Shambhu’s meeting with Ganga Mira changed his life. He came to consider her as his Guru. Although he had been a real gipsy all his life, constantly moving with the impulse of the moment, free from ties or commitments, he gave up his nomadic life style and settled in Portugal to live with his family around Ganga Mira. There he stayed in love and surrender to her until his last breath.

Beloved Shambhu, I am proud to have been your close friend for all those years, a friendship without demands nor expectations, open space and open heart. Meeting here and there, between India, South of France, and Portugal, never a dull moment. Meetings are magical when there is a true friendship, when one delights in each other’s presence with complicity and intimacy.

He was a great dancer but even more of a true musician. We would share music, all kinds of music, since music was definitely his language. He could play the guitar all night long, lost in harmonies and rhythm. A few years ago, he was the first one to make me listen to Leonard Cohen’s song, You want it darker, after it had just come out. As we listened to Leonard’s deep voice, singing over and over again, I am ready my Lord, we would keep silent. It felt like a premonition not only of Leonard’s departure but of our own departure. Shambhu left first, he went ahead. And indeed, as he left, he was ready, open, naked, free from fear.

Shambhu had a beautiful send-off at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, in South of Portugal.  Many of his friends where present. Every one poured some of his ashes into the waters, singing “Shiva Shiva Shambhu”.

As Karl Renz put it: “Now Shambhu / Shiva is where he belongs. In the eternal hunting grounds. He was more than ready. So, happy happy for him.”

Oh, my friend, my brother, you are loved by so many and will be remembered as a man of great Love.

Bon voyage!


Goodbye, dear Shambu!
Thank you for the music you presented to me and all of us! Happy Journey!

Gunateet, he was such a crazy fellow, so much music in him, so much love.
I still remember when we met in 1987… he was sitting there in front of the bookshop (he had some kind of job there but never understood what! :-)) he would talk to everyone and all the beautiful women passing by, with his French lust for life in his eyes…
He was lively and out of the box!
Visiting the south of France and meeting his mother (Isabelle) – another passionate woman… We had such a beautiful time eating apricots from the tree (at Les Tapets house) and playing music, painting the house. Isabelle would put some African music on and we would dance like mad. They were both so generous. It was like a French family (and Paraprem would pass by with his honey… :-))
He had so many music instruments. It was a healing time for me.
We met again and he was then with Papaji, then Meera, and then married their daughter… and was Shambu!
I saw him a couple of time on a Goan beach… maybe also Australia… I can’t remember anymore… but it was a beach!
A sweet memory… So long Gunateet!
Fly high in the sky and be remembered with joy and light!

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