We have come to V.T. station with Osho, who is leaving for Jabalpur. It is a hot summer afternoon. It is 1969. I am standing behind Him, watching how His perspiration is running like a little stream of water from the middle of His back down to His waist. He is wearing a whit lunghi and a shawl wrapped around the upper part of His body: His back is half naked. He is standing with all his beauty and grace like a lion amongst the crowd of sheep who have fallen in love with Him!
The train is about to leave, yet His luggage has not arrived: it was put in another car. We become worried. He is leaving to conduct a meditation camp, and I start wondering how he will manage there without His clothes. Suddenly He turns back and looks at me. I feel ashamed to disturb Him with my doubting mind–He just smiles at me. His trusting, shining eyes are still floating in the air before me as I write. I relaxed and remember His words, “Trust existence.”
The guard blows his whistle again, and Osho gets in the train without His luggage. He stands at the door and looks at everyone with His mischievous smile. Somewhere in my heart I know that the train will not leave till His luggage arrives. We are all waiting there, holding our breath, to see what happens next. How unconsciously we are behaving in the presence of our enlightened master. But His compassion is infinite: He has accepted us as we are and never gives us the feeling of being ignorant or unconscious.
Very slowly the train starts, and to our great surprise we see Ishwarbhai’s driver come running with His suitcase, and pushing everyone aside, he reaches His compartment, and places the suitcase behind Osho, who is still standing at the door to say one more time “Good-bye” to us.
The train pulls out. My heart sinks into silence. I close my eyes and sit at the bench nearby. One of the friends comes and shakes me saying, “Let us go.” I open my eyes and wonder where to go: my heart has already gone with Him. I want to shout to the world, “Here is a Buddha again living among us!”
