Sarjano

Swami Swatantra Sarjano

by Azima

Sarjano was born Carlo Silvestro in Pordenone, Italy, in 1943 and was reborn in India through his Master Osho in 1978 and given a new name: Swatantra (meaning freedom) Sarjano (meaning creativity). The name given by his Master sums up his character and his intense life.

In his initiation darshan (in Don’t Bite My Finger, Look Where I’m Pointing, Ch 2 – see below) Osho says, “Freedom is true only if it creates. Creativity is the indication of a true freedom, and creation is true only if it comes out of freedom. Creativity without freedom is not true creativity, it is imitation, it is borrowed. It can be very skillful, it can be technically perfect, but something essential will be missing in it: the soul will be missing.”

Sarjano was a creative person throughout his whole life, enjoying a space of total freedom, outside the box. A rebel, non-conformist, histrionic artist, photographer, cook, writer… Sarjano was one of the lions who dared to stand by the Master with intensity and sincerity.

He often confronted Osho in public with his borderline-decent questions and received an avalanche of love as well as Zen thrashings from the Master.

Sarjano and I arrived in Pune around the same time, in early 1978, coming from the same background of politicised rebels who had sought in revolution an alternative to the society of the sixties and seventies. He in the artistic field, I in the medical field.

In 1972 he had met Allen Ginsberg in Rome and others from the Beatnik generation, wrote poems and articles and published the first alternative newspaper in those years, NO.

Before he landed at the feet of the Master, he had already created the first commune in Italy of flower children – naked, free and happy – in Terrasini in the province of Palermo, Sicily.

His journalistic career had begun in the 1960s when he wrote for glossies the likes of Ciao 2001, Epoca, Oggi, Gente, Anna. He collaborated with the most important mainstream Italian magazines of the time, including Famiglia Cristiana.

However, after arriving in Pune in the Master’s commune, he devoted himself exclusively to spreading the Master’s message.

Sarjano quickly became known for his exuberance and was loved by many and rejected by others, but he continued to be himself.

To better understand his personality I quote a sentence he writes in his book: “After the horror of my first day at school, I simply quit because I just couldn’t stand the idea of someone to whom I could only ‘listen and obey’.”

So he did not study like all other young children did. He remained rebellious and independent, and when he first met Osho he sent in the question: “When a real lion meets a real Master, he recognizes him…. And he decides to be defeated and decides to have his ego broken because he knows that this is the path and will lead him to more ease. Now, I’m afraid that it is still my ego deciding for me. Please explain.” (The Wisdom of the Sands, Vol 1, Ch 6, Q 7)

Such an atypical personality, sometimes excessive and off-putting to many, but at his core he was sincere, and honest and loved life so much that it often got out of hand like a river in flood or like a child so full of energy that when dancing and running around bangs into objects and steps onto other people’s toes. But how can you not love a child?

We only came into personal contact in the 1987/88 when women ‘hooked us up and entangled us in the same carriage’, but there has never been a word of resentment between us…

Osho then finally joined us arm in arm in his jokes; thus we both became, together with three, four other men, delightful characters in a paradise on earth that the Master had created for us to live in.

Sarjano goes into the medical center and asks Dr. Azima for some condoms.

“These-a are the best-a ones,” says Azima, handing him a packet.

But Sarjano interrupts him and says, “Don’t-a worry – the cheapest will-a do.”

So Azima gives him the cheapest and Sarjano pays. Then he immediately opens the pack, pulls out a condom, unrolls it, throws it on the floor and begins to stamp on it with his foot.

“What-a the hell are you-a doing?” cries Azima.

“Don’t-a stop me,” says Sarjano. “This is-a exactly the way I-a gave up smoking!”

Osho, Zen: The Solitary Bird, Cuckoo of the Forest, Ch 1, Q 2

Sarjano was definitely one of the most prominent and loudest characters in the great film that Osho had created to awaken the hypnotised consciences of humans.

With Sarjano surely goes a piece of history, of that world which today is called ‘the old sannyasins’.

Fly high my friend,

Love
Azima

Bibliography

1979 : L’incanto d’arancio (Orange Enchantment)
2005 : Food Is Home (find many recipes on Osho News)
2011 : Dalla separazione all’amore (From Separation to Love); English title: 491 Questions and Not a Single Answer (review and excerpts on Osho News)
2016 : When a Real Lion Meets a Real Master (his memoir) (reviews and excerpts on Osho News)

Sarjano translated many of Osho’s books into Italian

1983 : Estasi: Il linguaggio dimenticato
1983 : La rivoluzione interiore
1986 : Il libro arancione
1992 : Perché dovrei affliggermi ora?
2007 : Una perfetta imperfezione
2009 : Le onde e l’oceano
2009 : Il segreto

(list thanks to Sannyas.wiki)

In Osho’s ashram in Poona One, he worked as a photographer, pursuing his previous career. He was also instrumental in organizing the renowned Italian journalist Enzo Biagi to interview Osho in Nepal in 1986 (youtu.be), where he took the beautiful photo of Osho holding hands with the journalist.

In the commune he also worked as a cook, and opened an Italian-style cafe at Osho’s request. Decades later, he ran for many years an Italian restaurant in Vagator, Goa, called Buon Appetito, and published a cookbook Food Is Home (recipes on Osho News).

In 2016 he moved back to Rome.

Sarjano tells his story in his own words in Bhagawati’s book Past the Point of No Return, now serialized in Osho World: When Does a Love Story Start?

A great and courageous lion

by Majid

Sarjano (Carlo Silvestro) has left this world. He had phoned me a few weeks ago, inviting me to come to Rome and pick up a suitcase of photographs. I felt a bit confused, and it filled my heart with sadness.

The last time I hugged him in person was at the Auro Centre in Trastevere at an evening that was organised for the new edition of Zen and Politics. I had seen him as fragile and vulnerable as ever. He did not say much but was present with his gaze (I think he was lovingly accompanied by Pushkara, a common friend). It moved me so much.

But this is a minor personal memory. I wanted to dedicate these lines to Sarjano’s story which not everyone might know.

Many of Osho’s friends of the last generation may not have known Sarjano and may not have read his wonderful early book L’incanto d’arancio (Orange Enchantment), now out of print. In the book he describes his trip to Pune and his meeting with the Master.

On the other hand, everyone will be able to find his more recent Caro Osho ti scrivo (English publication: When A Real Lion Meets A Real Master) which I highly recommend you read. (It was published by OM, the same publishing house that republished Operazione Socrate and Zen e Politica a few years back.) In his book Sarjano wonderfully recounts, through his hundreds of questions and thoughts written to Osho, his extraordinary relationship with the Master and the loving ‘answers’ he received, reflecting in a glowing way how out of the ordinary their relationship really was. An absolute read!

I also want to remind everyone of the wonderful photo sessions that have given us unforgettable pictures of Osho.

The most extraordinary perhaps is the one that immortalised Osho and Enzo Biagi holding hands. A photo that, in its tenderness, was a counterpoint to the interview that Sarjano had so strongly wished would happen, organising it, contacting Biagi and literally dragging him to the Master.

It was an interview (youtu.be) that was broadcast on RAI Uno’s TV channel causing a scandal because of the radical and provocative nature of certain passages, (as was reported in a special issue of the magazine Re Nudo dedicated to the interview and what happened afterwards).

But Sarjano was also a no-joking matter himself, and this trait led him, in the latter part of his life in Pune after Osho had left the body, to be expelled from the Resort. It created great suffering for him and it eventually led him to leave India, finding refuge in the eternal loving arms of Silvia, his first great love of his life and the one who accompanied him in his last days.

Sarjano had also been the Carlo Silvestro who had founded the commune in Terrasini, where in the years leading up to him meeting Osho many of us even then spent happy and creative moments. Many friends and girlfriends have passed through who later took different paths, but who have not forgotten those years. I remember some of them and surely forgetting some others… Terry Anne Savoy, Claudio Rocchi, Alberto Camerini, Donatella Bardi, Paola Pitagora, Eugenio Finardi, Mauro Rostagno, Teresa De Sio….

…and even before the Terrasini years, there was the Carlo Silvestro who, together with Silvia, had met and worked with Julian Beck and Judith Melina’s Living Theatre, doing street theatre in Rome and Venice, where he also met Satyamo Hernandez, whom he later met again in his life with Osho…

In short, a great and courageous lion (this is his zodiac sign) who lived as only lions know how to live when they have a big heart, spiced with their sometimes inevitable proud presumption of always being right.

One last small personal recollection… The lion Sarjano has never forgiven me that in 1977 I met Osho before him! So he immediately had to stress that as soon as he met Osho, he was able to recognise him as his Master and fell at his feet as if struck by love at first sight. While Majid had taken days, with doubts, spending nights of resistance and torment… He was right. For him it was immediately a love affair.

You had a bigger and more open heart.

Dear Sarjano, now you can reunite with your Master in the light and also with your great friend Franco Battiato.

Goodbye, dear friend and brother, farewell ❤️🙏

Majid

Bhagawati and Anatto visiting Sarjano at his restaurant in Goa

Sarjano….

by Bhagawati

About 15 years ago, Anatto and I decided that Goa would be the first stop on our vacation to India that year since we wanted to see Sarjano as well. We had an enjoyable time hanging out together and enjoyed dinners at his rustic restaurant, My Place. The Times of India once wrote, “My Place is not only the best Italian restaurant in all of Goa, but perhaps in all of India…”

Sarjano was such a brilliant cook, and his sweets were wonderful. We also enjoyed going to the flea market in Arjuna together and talking endlessly about Osho and our time in the communes.

I collaborated extensively with him on a series of essays in Osho World about his passion for cooking and a range of societal issues based on his profound observations while living in India, which were published in the Goa Herald at the time. I was pleased that he donated his personal story to Past the Point of No Return.

Another long-term project was his book, When a Real Lion Meets a Real Master, which was funded by the Osho World Foundation. He wanted to include every lecture in which Osho answered his questions or mentioned him. These talks tell a great deal about Sarjano and how passionately Osho spoke to or about him; they represent a unique narrative.

He renamed his restaurant Buon Appetito at some point, and about 2017 maybe, he decided to return to Italy, leaving his restaurant to people who had worked there. Once he arrived in Italy, his messages became scarce and distant, until there was only silence. I was unable to reach him at all.

In my heart, I can still hear his laughter, the jokes he would tell, and remember the warm friendship we shared… He’s flying high now, into another adventure, one that will be filled with laughter and joy.

Bhagawati

Osho with Sarjano in Kulu Manali – photos by Bhikkhu

Forever in our hearts

by Bhikkhu and Waduda

Sarjano, forever in our hearts.

Words are failing – just memories and tears.

I met Sarjano in August 1978 in Pune when in one of his theatrical gestures he said to me, “From now on you take care of Waduda.” He really meant it and I am still taking this assignment seriously. From heart to heart.

Thank you, Sarjano, for the greatest “gift” of my lifetime.

Waduda is still in tears here beside me.

Bhikkhu and Waduda

Swatantra means freedom, sarjano means creativity

Sarjano’s sannyas initiation darshan

Swatantra means freedom, sarjano means creativity. Freedom is true only if it creates. Creativity is the indication of a true freedom, and creation is true only if it comes out of freedom. Creativity without freedom is not true creativity, it is imitation, it is borrowed. It can be very skillful, it can be technically perfect, but something essential will be missing in it: the soul will be missing.

There are creative people who are not free, who have not known the freedom of no-mind. They simply go on repeating; all that they do is more or less a new combination of old things. The wine is old, the bottles new. Maybe there are mixtures of many wines – something from here, something from there. It appears as if it is new; it is not. It is only a combination, it is not a creation; it is a composition, not a creation.

There are people who are free but not creative; their freedom is dead. There are people who sit in the Himalayan caves and have known something of the silence, of the interior, but they are not creative; their freedom is not true. They are also imitating the state of no-mind. They are sitting like a Buddha practicing a posture. It is only a gesture, there is nothing behind it. Sitting in their Himalayan caves they are simply vegetating.

So to me these two words are of immense value, and they go together; in fact they cannot exist separately. They are like yin-yang, day-night, summer-winter, the positive and the negative; they are always together. Whenever one is there, the other must be there somewhere, has to be there. Seeking one, one finds both; losing one, one loses both. So let this be my message for you….

Feel at home – this is your home! Forget, the past, let it simply disappear. From this moment think anew, feel anew. This is your second birth, and without the second the first is incomplete. The second is the true birth, but one has to be very receptive to allow it to happen. Immense changes are on the way; just be receptive and every day things will be happening.

A great energy is being released here; those who can be receptive are fortunate. If somebody misses, it is only he who is responsible. If he remains closed there is no way to penetrate him. The spiritual energy cannot be aggressive energy; it cannot even knock on your door. It simply waits like sunlight: if you open the door it comes in; if you don’t open the door it does not knock, it does not force. It is not like wind in that it knocks and tries to enter. It is like sunlight: it simply waits there, it has infinite patience. And only those who are capable of opening up to it are benefited. Then there is great celebration, great rejoicing happens inside. For the first time one knows what life is.

So just be open, and allow things to happen.

Osho, Don’t Bite My Finger, Look Where I’m Pointing, Ch 2 – 3 March 1978

“Why is the target always me, why never you?!”

by Madhuro

I meet Sarjano before sannyas, in the early 70’s when I was working with the alternative magazine Re Nudo, and then very often later in the ashram kitchen in Poona. It was an important meeting for me; he was the opposite to me, very extroverted, loud, explosive. I was introverted, not talking much, soft spoken, but we always valued each other because we were the opposite.

In the commune kitchen I experienced for the first time to work with someone like him, with someone I could not have imagined to get along before. I guess it was because he was very much in his heart; there was no conflict in spite of the differences.

I remember an episode that makes me laugh: One morning I meet him in the kitchen, the day after he got another Zen stick hit from Osho in discourse. He asked me, “Why is the target always me, why never you?!”

Thank you, Sarjano ♥️

Madhuro

Mille grazie…

by Srajano

So many feelings and memories swirl around in me learning of Sarjano’s death. Deep love, a touch of sadness, gratitude to have known him. His way of effortlessly being himself, no holding back, inspired and encouraged me.

Sarjano helped me with a camera issue when we first met. I was intimidated by his reputation, overwhelmed by his XL presence, and couldn’t quite believe that he, a great photographer and beloved of the Master, treated me, stumbling amateur and new sannyasin, as an equal. He made my heart smile, and over the years we became friends. I loved and enjoyed his intensity, exuberance, Italian mudras…

Regularly being part of his cooking team in Osho Cafe was an experience of playful discipline, great food, and blissful team spirit. My last few months in Poona, in ’91, I stayed on the roof of his house just behind the ashram. He was so caring that I started calling him Mamma (with an Italian accent). Love filled daily lunches with friends, great gossip, and intimate sharings of how we felt now that the Master had left his body.

Twenty years later I stayed with him in Vagator for a few days, in his restaurant ‘My Place’. It was as if Poona was just a few days ago. He was approaching 70, and felt a bit tired. There was talk and silence, cooking together and lots of hugs. It turned out to be our last meeting. In the days after one of his provocative or just downright funny questions I was often asked if I was him… It was very tempting to say “Yes”, to bask in his glory.

I just lit a candle, incense…. and I heard Osho chuckle.

Farewell beloved friend, and mille grazie…

Swami Anurag Srajano

Sarjano radiated much warmth, care, and an innocent simplicity

by Radhika

Oh, how it hit my heart this morning, when I saw Sarjano’s smiling face, and immediately knew that he had departed. Only just yesterday. It was a soft hit though, as if a blooming flower was thrown gently against my chest.

It was in Pune Two, when by strange synchronicities and coincidence in time, and although we never did speak to each other those days, we submitted very similar questions for discourse. A few times, I heard exactly my question being read aloud in Buddha Hall, and then Osho begin his answer with ‘Sarjano, …’!

Ten years later, while working at Osho Times International, we had a shift once a week after everyone had finished lunch, when he and I were loading the conveyor belt of the gigantic dishwasher at Mariam. Standing on each side of the machine, it was so much fun to put the used dishes on the rather fast-moving belt, which always took us a good hour.

Once, we managed the task in such a fast way, and in such harmony, that our hands were simply flying, never banging any of the dishes against each other. We both finally commented on the magic that had happened that day – simultaneously, of course. Again that synchronicity… Afterwards, we were to disassemble some of the dishwasher’s rather unwieldy parts in order to clean them. Huge parts! This took us another half hour. And I asked myself, how in the world Varda had managed to do this all on her own for many months prior to our shift.

Sarjano radiated much warmth, care, and an innocent simplicity from underneath his wild and rebellious ways. There seemed to be a certain kind of intimacy between Osho and him, and he never was afraid to be exposed by his discourse questions, to sometimes being literally disassembled by his Master, as we had with the dishwashing machine. His questions were intelligent and interesting, sometimes poetic. And he certainly had a beautiful artistic touch as a photographer.

Thank you, Sarjano, for having contributed during decades to our caravanserai, to our Osho carnival, the way you did. Your afterglow is going to last.

Radhika

One more story…

by Madhugit

There are many stories about Sarjano. This is one you may not have heard.

It was one morning, somewhere around 1978, during Sufi Dance with Aneeta and Anubhava.

We were doing the dances and gestures to this song:

Ya Azim 2x
Il Alla hu 2x
Alla hu, Hallelujah

We were to move in opposite circles and face a different partner several times, turning and moving forward to a new partner, looking in their eyes and declaring we were seeing the godliness in the other.

Then something very funny happened…

First, you must know that in those days many men were wearing only a lungi with nothing underneath. Well, Sarjano managed again to draw all eyes upon him.

Upon turning several times and singing ‘il allahu’, we all turned on the last phrase ‘Hallelujah’ and moved on to the next partner.

Then, with both his arms still high up in the air, Sarjano managed to drop his lungi.

There he was, standing naked in Buddha Hall, in front of everyone, exclaiming “Hallelujah!”

Can you imagine the reaction? It was so funny. Everybody burst out in a roaring laughter. Even Aneeta, I saw, could not contain herself and forgot to tell us to “now just close your eyes”. 👀

Rest in Peace, Swami Sarjano. Dear rebel.

Madhugit

Arrivederci!

by Paribuddha

Well my dear friend, here we are, screaming you arrivederci with a cocktail of tears and laughter, just as you would have wanted. I swear, I was waiting for you to pop up on one of our social media feeds any day, grinning devilishly or cooking up some wild mixtura that only you could dream of. But no, you decided to pull the ultimate disappearing act. Classic Sarjano move, always keeping us on our toes.

I can’t help but chuckle when I think of the chaos you brought into our lives. Your cooking? Unmatched. Your unpredictability? Unmatched. Your ability to turn every mundane moment into a scene from a Fellini film? Absolutely unmatched.

Koregaon Park sannyasins will never be the same without your culinary escapades. Remember when you whipped up that pasta dish with chocolate sauce? Pure madness, and yet somehow, we ate it anyhow and maybe called it strangely delicious.

I refuse to believe you’re gone. You were always so full of life, so vibrant, so… Sarjano. I half expect you to burst through the door any moment now, wearing that ridiculous red apron and swinging your cooking spoon as a Zen stick. And you know what? In my heart, you are still very much alive, stirring up mischief wherever you may be.

Ah, Sarjano, you were the living embodiment of Osho’s reminder to embrace our inner madness and mischief, to shake off the limitations of routine and dance wildly in the chaos and moments of lostness on our inner journey. Sometimes it felt, as if Osho himself had taken a remote control and decided to have a bit of fun with you but for us.

So, until we meet again, my friend, I’ll keep the wine flowing and the laughter continuing. Because I have a feeling that wherever you are, you’re cooking up something extraordinary, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.

Arrivederci, Sarjano. May your next adventure be as wild and wonderful as you were.

Looooooove 4ever pb

 

Recorded in 1992 by Bhakta

Related discourses

• The World is Very Close to Its End – Q: Beloved Osho, What is this undercurrent of giggling in my heart every time I feel that you are using the whole world as a device for our growth, and that you are using us as a device for the whole world? Would you please comment?
• Let’s reverse the question… – What have you learned from being with us?

Articles by Sarjano on Osho News

• The Photographer and the Master – The story of how Sarjano started taking photographs of Osho – and in particular the ones with the marigolds
• Osho’s mother – Amrit Saraswati – During the seventies, Osho’s mother tells Sarjano how she took sannyas and how she thinks of him as her Master but also her son
• Osho’s father – Devateerth Bharti – During a rare interview in the seventies, Osho’s father tells Sarjano about ‘little Mohan’s’ childhood and how he took sannyas

More Tributes

A legend has left us… I thank you Sarjano, you have always represented for me the rebellious and histrionic sannyasin. I have fragments of memories… in the Commune (yes, it was still the Commune). And then in Goa in your restaurant… Your iconic photographs… Great temperament and great heart…

You are leaving a void… for all of us…

Fly free! Grazie, Sarjano!

Shola Carletti

 

Oh, Sarjano!

You were my very first non-Japanese lover.

You gave me so much!

I’ll forever remember our time together at Osho Café and your house in Koregaon Park. You were the first person who could receive my energy head on and gave me back double. I’ll remember your dance forever. It was such an intense experience, so I feel like it happened just recently.

In 2014, I was in Italy, but I didn’t come to see you in Rome even though you had invited me… That’s my regret.

Thank you, beloved Sarjano. R.I.P.

Ma Anand Chandana

 

Such an outpouring of love for/to/from you, Sarjano! Clearly, you had a lasting impact with whomever you encountered. You have been an amazing human being, totally one of a kind, and total at whatever you did. We were all with you in your long, loving, poetic questions to Osho, and his delicious answers, often in the form of a loving Zen stick. And Osho hated spaghetti!

So many memories with you: listening to your long soliloquies on the Zen wall, waiting for hours after discourse in your restaurant for that amazing pasta dish you served up. A total Fool in total Love. Sad I won’t have another wild hug with ya, grateful I got to walk the path with you for a little while.

Abhiyana

 

From Divo, who has never known nor met him personally…

A friend has died yesterday. A friend I’ve never known nor met personally, all the more a friend. A blanket of sadness and stupefaction has fallen on our community, a large, worldwide One Heart community. Yes Bhagwan yes, what is life but a soap bubble, a most colorful bubble, a bubble all the same. Even Masters die, pass away… simply pass away. A wonderful wonder-full page has turned. May it go on n’ on the Song of endless gratitude, endless search for Consciousness Goodness Beauty.

 

Sarjano 🌸

A passion… such a passion.

Just a passionate man…

Whenever I cook Italian, I am reminded of how he gently taught me how to make the sauces in my home…

Wow, more memories come:

He decides I need a proper birthday party in Pune and offers to cook pizzas at my home for everyone. And of course we have a fantastic party in ‘Out Of Africa’ and everyone enjoys the delicious pizzas that he has created for us….

And then he tells me the story of him being the second best pizza master in Italy….

Then I taste his pumpkin ravioli. Ahhhhhhh such taste… and so we have another birthday party just for the ravioli. Pumpkin amaretto ravioli!!!!! Such exquisite taste.

And such a love for Osho, such a passionate embrace…

And then of all people, my father comes to visit, and they end up teasing each other about their age. At first Sarjano insist that my father give him respect because he is his elder. But then my father chides him, and they discover that my father is, in fact, a year older – and by implication through Italian custom – the wiser. And a playful evening of wine and delicious food.

And then my girlfriend arrives… And somehow she also falls in love with this Italian creative genius – and we eat, and we drink, and we love and live the vision… somehow ‘Zorba the Buddha’ is alive and well!

How many times I laughed when I heard Osho joke about Sarjano screaming from the rooftops, and Osho joking about Sarjano…

Such a play between master and the playful passionate purring lion…

Certainly, a deep vulnerability.

Certainly, a deep creativity.

Certainly a profound love and appreciation of the divine feminine, and of the humble master.

He begged to photograph me… and yet at the time I was so immersed in meditation every day that it never occurred to me to capture any of these moments as he was so adept at doing.

Every moment he seemed on fire with passion.

Dear dear dear Sarjano…

Ho camminato

di Sarjano

Ho camminato
per le strade
del mondo
cantando la mia liberta’.
Ho camminato, ho camminato
finche’ ho perso
tutti i miei passi
tutti i miei sogni, tutti i sogni
e tutte le mie vibrazioni. [0:35]

Tutto ho perduto
sulle spiagge di Samotracia,
le infinite elaborazioni della mente
inappagata dai primi gradini
del sogno.
Ma la risposta:
un sogno piu’ bello.

Cosi’ creai il creatore
colui che arde la materia
e ne ricava gioielli e catene
e catene, e collane di perle.

L’incantatore ridivenne [1:27]
e il divino buffone
e il poeta, il musico,
il folle, colui che incanta il cuore dei viandanti
ed era bello, ed era bello, ed era bello.

Tra tanto dolore
e la gioia e il dolore
e la gioia e il dolore
e l’altalena del cuore
il cuore, il cuore
un giorno, un giorno, un giorno
pronto per il richiamo [2:00].

E si spezzo’ il mio sogno.

E poi, e poi tutto
ho perduto lungo le strade che portano a Poona.

I sogni piu’ belli, e le poesie,
e la bellezza della forma
e quella danza del corpo
che mi faceva sentire cosi’ vivo,
vivo, vivo, vivo.

Ma la risposta fu un sogno piu’ alto,
cosi’ sublime che mai nulla io pensavo avrebbe distrutto.

Cosi’ inventai il sogno,
il sogno, in samadhi, con samadhi, samadhi [3:06] samadia?

E della grande metafora
e del gioco del maestro
e dell’umile discepolo.

A te io m’inchinavo che non eri nessuno,
nessuno, nessuno,
una sedia vuota, una sedia vuota.

Finche’ un giorno
o puro amore, puro amore
amore, amore
distruggesti, tu distruggesti…
Osho,
tu distruggesti il mio sogno piu’ bello,
quel sogno cosi’ sublime
che mai, mai nulla io pensai avrebbe distrutto
nulla.

Ma il tuo amore. [4:27]​

Keep playing…. your song, cooking for this feast, the divine melody, from your divine heart.

💜💜💜💜💜

💜💜💜💜

💜💜💜

💜💜

💜

🌸

God Dieux

 

I only met Sarjano once: on my first day and time in the ashram in 1990. He was part of the welcome team and showed me around.

As he was wearing a round black skull cap which looked like a kippah, I just stared at him for a while and uttered, ‘You look like the pope!’

He retorted absolutely convincingly, ‘Well, I am!’

After that I wasn’t sure if the Pope had come to Pune.

Love,

Vasanti

 

From an ancient Rajasthani song:

Da un antico canto rajastano:

Follow the eagle’s flight and you will find India, where beyond life and beyond death love lives forever.

Segui il volo dell’aquila e troverai l’India dove al di là della vita e della morte l’amore vive per sempre.

Ma Deva Kavya (Ma Deva Niravo, Stefania Confalonieri)

 

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