Aditya

Anand Aditya loved life in all its aspects; loving and looking for all the spiritual and earthly pleasures that were on offer. He appreciated and enjoyed them to the fullest. If anyone could embody the concept of Zorba the Buddha, it’s certainly him.

We were born the same year, in close-by villages in the Po Valley, Italy. We met as young hippies while discovering together the world we both happened to travel through. We then met again in Pune, immersed in that unimaginable, extraordinary, and multidimensional experiment.

When we travelled to India together, he always had his party kit packed in his suitcase; music, amplifiers and lights, so that we could organize a party wherever we found ourselves; in beautiful villas owned by friends in Delhi or in the jungle near Pachmarhi.

Aditya was also an excellent cook and such an imaginative handyman he could fix and come up with things like a magician.

He was as wise as a child and managed to remain mesmerized at life even as a grown man.

Enjoy your journey, my friend.

Dhyan Elena

Dear Aditya,

A week before you left, you got angry with me on the phone because I had done something ‘wrong’. And I replied, “For someone who is in the process of dying, you still have a lot of energy!” And you said, “Of course! I don’t want to die depressed!”

That’s you!

And I like the idea that you are NOT ‘resting in peace’ but that you are everywhere, because there is so much to do. Without a body it’s so much easier…

Your friend,

Prem Vardan

Beloved Aditya,

Once you got very angry at me; I had cooked the noodles for too long! What an insult to the Italian nation.

So you withdrew to your room and sent a little letter stating that you went into silent meditation. Normally you never wrote letters, and you never stayed alone in silence. But you knew how to play with the techniques you had learned: writing in school and meditating from Osho.

Please send me a letter again,

Firos

Ciao zio Joanin

Voglio ricordarti felice che saltelli per casa di tua mamma cantando Open thee Door.
Oppure creando un giardino o ancora leggendo i tarocchi in buona compagnia con sotto la tovaglia di velluto rosso e pietre preziose.
O come dice tua pronipote in viaggio in aereo con tuo papà Giuseppe, “Mi mancheranno le nostre chiacchierate ma in sogno sono ancora possibili.”
Buona nuova vita se sei rinato o buona compagnia con le tue anime più care.

Bye uncle Joanin

I want to remember you happily prancing around your mum’s house singing Open the Door.
Or creating a garden, or reading tarot cards in good company – with a red velvet tablecloth and precious stones underneath.
Or as your great-granddaughter said on a plane trip with your daddy Giuseppe, “I will miss our chats but in dreams they are still possible.”
Wishing you a happy new life if you are reborn, or that you are in good company with your dearest souls.

Jessica Formentin

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