Part 1 of an interview with Osho’s mother, Ma Amrit Saraswati, first published in the Hindi Rajneesh Times

Mataji feels like a magnificent, silent ocean. The moment you are around her, a cool quietness starts enveloping you. All questions dissolve when you gaze into her sapphire eyes. It seems as if, when after nine months Osho left her womb, he also left all the silence of his being in her eyes. The silence that is effused with simplicity… Mataji radiates a child-like innocence and surrender. Her surrender towards her Master, who once was her beloved son… and perhaps still is her son in some ways.
Mataji’s name, Amrit Saraswati, says it all. [Amrit means Nectar or immortality. Saraswati is a Hindu goddess of knowledge, music, arts, wisdom, and learning.] Wherever you see her, you find her merging effortlessly into silence. Immersed in meditation, she hums hymns that seem to flow out of her innermost depth. She has been an amazed witness to and participant in all these happenings: Osho’s birth, his worldwide movement, and the myriad controversies surrounding him.
She is going to tell us something none of us has ever yet heard. Come, let’s begin…
Six months before Osho’s conception
Mataji, we have heard that when an enlightened being is about to be born, the mother receives visions through her dreams. When Osho was soon to be born, did you have any such dreams?
Mataji replied, “No such dreams. Why should I lie? But yes, there was something that happened about six months before Osho was conceived. It was night time. It may have been around midnight. I was sleeping. The window was open. Suddenly I heard someone’s voice. It was a holy man, a sadhu, standing outside the window. He said, ‘Open the door. I want to come inside.’ I became afraid and asked, ‘Why do you want to come inside at this hour of the night, baba? I will not open the door.’ He said, ‘OK, don’t open, but I still have to come into your house anyway. I will come back in six months.’ After exactly six months, Osho was conceived.”
We were astonished to hear of this strange incident. We could all feel the stillness of that mystical night. As we were imagining the holy man who had expressed the desire to be Mataji’s guest, Osho’s image appeared before our eyes.
The Narmada River
The next incident that Mataji narrated was equally inexplicable. It had taken place when she was five months pregnant with Osho. Mataji’s face lit up as soon as she started sharing this story with us:
“Osho was five months old in my womb. As there was no one in my husband’s home to manage or take care of things while I was pregnant, my father asked me to come to Kuchwada. My cousin brother came to take me to our village.
“On our way to Kuchwada, we had to cross the Narmada River. That year it had rained very heavily. I had never before seen Narmada’s waters rise to such an extent. The boatman looked at my brother and me, then turned towards him and enquired, ‘Who is this woman?’ When he heard that I was his sister, he said with firmness, ‘In this case, if she is pregnant with a boy, you will be the baby’s maternal uncle. If we take maternal uncles and nephews together on our boat, the boat is sure to sink.’
“We waited for three days in that village. The boatman refused to take us. Finally, my brother called the holy man who lived in a nearby temple and asked him, ‘Please help this boatman understand, Baba. Please explain to him that there is nothing to worry about.’ The name of the holy man was Dande Wale Baba. He was tall and well-built, and wherever he went he always carried a danda, a staff, with him. He would say, ‘If you are hit with this staff, your head will break immediately.’ This strange baba was always surrounded by children, and the children enjoyed being around him.
“That day, Dande Wale Baba scolded the boatman. He said to him, ‘What were you thinking? Just look at this woman. Look at her face; look at the light in her eyes. She is pregnant with a great soul. This soul could prevent your boat from drowning even in turbulent waters! Now take them wherever they need to go.’
“Finally, the boatman took us on his boat. Since the waters were still rough, the boat ride was uncomfortable. It finally ended and we reached my father’s house. That year was unusual because it had been pouring so heavily that the Narmada had begun to flow in the opposite direction! There was also a stream flowing near my father’s house which had started to overflow because of the heavy rains.

“The water began to flood our homes. I went up to my room. Seeing the water level rising, I quickly got on top of my bed. Pots, pans and other utensils from others’ homes were floating by in the water. One of our kitchen tools had also started to drift away in the water. To stop it from floating out of the house, I leapt forward in the water. But my father quickly caught hold of me, pulled me back and said, ‘Don’t go. It’s risky. What if something happens to you?’ But I went ahead anyway and, well… what happened next was baffling. The moment the water touched my waist, it began to recede. Slowly, the water level in the room began to fall. Meanwhile, other villagers were praying for the water to settle, offering pots of curd and milk to the gods.
“Seeing what had just happened, my father said, ‘There must be some good-natured soul in your womb. It seems as if the river had come just to touch the feet of this beautiful soul.’”
We were spellbound. As if Krishna’s leela was also Osho’s leela. If we had heard this story from someone else, it would have quickly been dismissed as an exaggeration or a figment of imagination. However, witnessing the simplicity with which Mataji narrated this incident, all our doubts were transformed into flowers of devotion.
Not wanting to eat
Mataji, would you like to share with us any unforgettable incidents that took place during Osho’s birth?
“The leela started right after he was born. When he was born, he didn’t cry even once. For three days, he did not drink any milk. Whenever I would bring my breast close to his mouth, he would turn his face away. When he was lying down, he would move his legs and arms gracefully and playfully. In the house, the sunlight used to shine through the tiled rooftop. He immensely enjoyed looking at the sun rays and playing with them.
“My mother became worried about his not drinking anything. So every now and then we used to offer him water, which he would easily drink. This reassured everyone.”
Weren’t you scared, Mataji?
“Why should I have been scared? It was my mother and father who were more scared. I was only eighteen years old at the time, and this was my first child. I let them worry about him. I always slept comfortably.
When did he first drink milk then? we eagerly asked.
“When my father came to visit, he said that my baby must have been a saint or a holy man in his previous life. That he might not want to take milk in such an unclean place, or he might drink milk only after his mother had taken a bath and gone to another, more silent room. ‘Don’t you worry,’ he said.
“And that is exactly what happened. After three days, for the first time Rajneesh drank milk.
“He made up for those three days without milk by drinking my milk for the next three years! My mother would prepare a variety of dishes to coax him to eat solid food, but he always refused. He insisted on drinking my milk only.”
Talking to Mataji, it felt as if we too had become a part of Osho’s family. We were so immersed in the stories. Riding on this wave of playfulness and mischief, we asked Mataji about Osho’s eating habits as a child.
Right at that moment we saw Mataji, the sannyasin recede into the background and Mataji, the mother emerge. With a hint of motherly concern and affection, she laughingly said, “He used to create a lot of fuss while eating. He never used to eat dal and vegetables. But he liked to hold a small bowl with a lid in his hands. So, we used to dress him with a loincloth, which we had specially made for him, and put the bowl in his hands. Rajneesh looked just like a sadhu in it.
“Near our house there was a playground where he used to love to run. When it was time for him to eat I would take him there. While he ran around, I would coax him to take a bite from his plate of food by saying each time, Tishtiye pishtiye arm jal shuddh. Maharaj, khaana khaa lo. [Satisfaction, nourishment, pure food, and water, Master (King) please eat the food.]
“Hearing this, he would come and take a bite and then run back to make another round. If he felt like it, he would come and eat, but if he did not feel like eating, he would simply run around the ground. I would chant the namokaar mantra, and if he still wouldn’t come after that, I would then recite this chant:
Darshanam deva devasya
darshanam papanasanam
Darshanam svarga sopanam
darshanam moksha sadhanam.
Even the heavenly Gods revere Tirthankar Bhagawan
Sincere obeisance to the idol of Tirthankar
Bhagawan destroys all sins
It’s the first step towards attaining heaven 1
“He always came when I chanted this mantra. But despite all the chanting, he still used to eat only half a roti.”
We all burst into laughter imagining this little Sadhu Maharaj, this little ascetic, and asked Mataji, How old was the little sadhu maharaj then?
“He was only about two, two and a half years old then. He didn’t eat properly even after all the coaxing. He used to insist on drinking my milk. Now, how much milk can my body make? Unless I played with him for an hour or two, he would not listen to me. This went on till he was three years old.”
Healing with chiraunji
Where did you live at that time, Mataji?
“Let me tell you about a childhood game he used to play. In Timarni there was a shop that sold sugar-coated almondette seeds (chiraunji). For 2 anna you could get 250 grams of these seeds. He would buy them and keep hold of them. Timarni was a village where there wasn’t a lot of work. So you would often see people gathered outside their houses, particularly old people, just laughing and talking to each other. Since Rajneesh was a little boy, they used to call him over and say, ‘Rajkumar, little prince, come on here. Can you bring us some medicine? We are not feeling too well.’ So Rajneesh would quickly walk up to them, look into their palms and put 2-4 of those sweet seeds in their hands, saying, ‘Eat this – you will get well quickly!’
And did these people get well?
“Whether they got better or not, I don’t really know. But people certainly got a kick out of it. They used to have a lot of fun with him.”
This was Mataji’s beauty. She always presented stories from Osho’s life in a neutral, impartial manner, without exaggerating them or sugar-coating them. A messiah played in her lap and was raised in her home, but she – she always remained a witness, a watcher. She was like a lotus flower blossoming in the water. It is not that she had earned this quality with a lot of effort; in fact, this quality was simply the fragrance of her innermost being.
This interview was first published in the Hindi Rajneesh Times (PDF) in three consecutive issues between 1986 and 1987, and re-published in the Hindi Osho Times on 16 December 1993, under the title, A Pilgrimage from the Ocean to its Origin. Translation by Anuragi with edits by Osho News. Photos and PDF courtesy: Osho Resource Center (retouching by Osho News)
1) Darshanam Devasya Darshanam is a devotional song that expresses love for one’s creator and its belongings. The phrase Darshanam deva devasya darshanam pava panasano darshanam swarg sopanam darshanam moksh sadhanam appears in a Jain Prayer.
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