Kamaal

Many remember Kamaal as working in Mirdad, always involved with Osho’s words, in audio or written form. And in Lao Tzu house taking care of Osho’s Library. Twice a week she opened the bookshop in the evenings – that’s when shoppers received the most professional advice on Osho’s books. She had a sharp intelligence and a wry wit.

Kamaal had recently returned to her property in NSW, Australia.

Her death celebration was held via zoom on 7 August 2021.

Thanks to Gyan, Chetna, Nisimo, Jayadip, Prema via FB

Tributes

When I heard of Kamaal’s departure, I had the thought that if I had to come up with one word to describe my experience of her, it would be “grounded.” She is/was one of the most grounded people I have ever known.

We worked together for years, way back to the time when she was known as “Pratiksho.” I remember the day when she told me, this was after Osho had left his body, that she had changed her name to Kamaal. The way she told me, which indicated between the lines that it was provoked by some inner experience she had gone through, I simply accepted it and never thought to ask her why. And I never thought to call her anything but Kamaal again. It was characteristic of her that she didn’t feel the need to explain or justify it. If I had to guess, I would say it was probably from something that she had read in Osho’s words (Kamaal means “miracle” he says) that felt in tune with an experience she had gone through, an experience that moved her to change her name.

Over the years, most of the time we spent together was either out back of Mirdad in the “smoking temple” taking a break, or at lunch. She had opinions for sure, both about people and about “politics.” But she never gossiped, never judged, never took any of it seriously. In her work, she was far more disciplined and conscientious than I could manage to be – when she committed to a deadline, for example, she met it every time. Nothing ever interfered with her work. Practical and no-nonsense, she was like a librarian who was also somehow surprisingly streetwise.

She had a wonderful sense of humor, and it was always a treat for me when I could get her talking about her long-ago past as a barmaid in Australia. Her Australian accent would resurface as she told those stories, and I could so clearly picture the sassy, no-nonsense young woman she must have been at that time. She still knew how, and was still unafraid, to step outside the box if that’s what the situation called for.

Bon voyage, my friend. I trust the passage was easy and light, and just in its right time. My love to you.

Sarito

And I remember your looong platted hair!
Bon voyage!
Punya

Beloved Kamaal, every time I came we exchanged a few words in the “smoking temple” and these few words brought me a lot. Thank you for being there, for all your love and kindness.

At the end of January 2020 you told me, Bon voyage, and in my turn I tell you, Bon Voyage, Kamaal. Your beautiful soul will always be in my heart, with Osho.

Veeresha

In these twenty-one years, we had a little chat only two times. And she must have gifted me a smile a couple of times for no reason. One occasion of those chats is simply unforgettable.

This happened in 2001/2002. She was the one who used to open the old bookshop at night, maybe two days a week. Very few people visited the bookstall in those hours. And I loved it very much, as it was so touching to spend some time alone in such a beautiful space, very cool lighting and the smell of books… In one corner there was a Buddha statue of mud color, and somebody had put a headphone on it ! Buddha enjoying the song of silence 24×7! One such night, when I looked back from one corner of the bookshop, I felt something like a ‘perspective’ beyond’- A Buddha, smiling in his tunes of bliss, and just adjacent to him, (from that corner, it looked as if Kamaal and the Buddha statue were touching against each other) a grandma, gazing through her spectacles… as if some forgotten scenes from childhood fairy tales are repeated in front of me. I loved that scene very much. I thought, Let me speak to her. She looked as if she was waiting for some questions.

I asked her about the book written by Devageet – BHAGWAN: MESSIAH OF LIFE, LOVE AND LAUGHTER. I had noticed that book in some advertisement somewhere.

She burst into a big laugh. I didn’t get why she was laughing like this. Such a fairy and belly laugh! After a few seconds, she told me, ‘Devageet wrote such a big book, that no publisher was ready to publish it!’ She continued her laughter… I was confused a bit, should I join in with her laughter? Should I thank her for the reply? But it was like a dream. Golden spotlights… many books with Osho’s photo on their covers, a smiling Buddha with a headphone, a grandma’s roaring laughter… and a confused boy. It seems, a smile sprouted on my lips…. Thanking her, I just slipped out of the scene. But I could hear the echoes of her laughter up to Buddha Hall.

Whenever she was seen in the smoking area, though she was quite silent, I felt echoes of laughter emerging around her.

Beloved Kamaal, you disappeared as echoes… echoes of silence.

Your absence in the evening meeting will be very conspicuous, for sure.
lv.
Tarpan

Dear Kamaal!

Thanks for the times we shared in Mirdad, Osho Publications! Enjoyed your cool, yet warm, meditative vibes!

Fly into the sky

迦雅 Jayadip

You can leave a message / tribute / anecdote using our contact form or writing directly to web@oshonews.com (pls add ‘Kamaal’ in the subject field).