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from not exactly all over

["Current" as of Mar 1999]

itting silently, doing nothing, the screen saver comes, and the seasons change by themselves every thirty seconds. Osho Pulse takes a little longer.

But we’re here!

A lot of water has gone down the Fraser since our last incarnation. The Centre Drama has resolved itself, at least inasmuch as survival is concerned. There are now two (2) functioning centres in Vancouver, each serving different needs, plus the Surrey contingent has organized well-attended regular meditations out there. And so many people have taken sannyas in the last year, at least by local standards. (Photo feature regrettably unavailable online). And the flowering of music! Osho!

Okay. What else happened? Nirgun’s book, Hellbent for Enlightenment, made it to the marketplace, launched with a fabulous wingding at Mada’s. Many faces unknown and known – in some cases known primarily for their affinity for the woodwork – came out, including even Daphne, who came all the way from the Santa Fe mountains. Nirgun has been getting lots of free publicity lately by picketing Chapters, the well-known Canadian uninational corporate meanies, for refusing to sell her book. Still Hungry for Justice. Latest hot flash is that the local Chapters has finally, in a decision “totally unrelated to Nirgun’s picketing,” agreed to stock the book, so Nirgun is. . . picketing positively! Thanking them and encouraging them to take it national.

Pulse made it onto the Web, at, after a long period of mental block, frustration and self-doubt on the part of poor Sarlo, but it’s here – a shining monument to, uh. . .

Just Dance, now in its tremendously sixth year of operation, finally got the boot from its long-standing venue, the newly renovated and suddenly image-conscious Oddfellows Hall. Seems the good ol’ boys’ new management team took offence and umbrage at such moral beyond-the-pales as men dancing with each other. (No doubt they were also offended by women dancing with each other, men dancing with women and people dancing alone). Das Boot, when it came, was swift and unforgiving: one week to find a new hall for the next Just Dance. But find it they did, thanks mostly to the intrepid shmoozing of Kushad, who not only found a nice new place for a reasonable price but won their hearts as well, at least by his account. Of course, they’re tearing that place down in the summer, but that’s another story.

Lots going on in Pune. Thanks to the magic of email, a tremendous amount of gossip and disputation has flowed following Ma Yoga Neelam’s resignation from the Inner Circle. Anyone who would like to see the complete collection (edited) of rants and wisdom – your call – available to us on email can read the printouts at Samaroha. Darpano’s account of his visit to Pune, presaging this eruption, also appears in this issue. One useful by-product of this exchange has been an opportunity to look inside at discontents and complaints still lurking, and moreover, have this opportunity for free, or the price of an internet connection.

Meanwhile, out in the Kootenays, Khoji and Roshani are looking to open an Osho commune, a rural retreat-cum-whatever on their property, a 40-acre island in the magnificent Little Slocan River. Apparently the environment is so uncontaminated, not even cell phones can be used around there. They are inviting anyone interested in participating to share in their dream: “We’re looking for friends, ready to join in with their energy and support. There is still a lot of space for bringing in ideas. Come and help us create a paradise!” Email:

In future news, Kamal and Darp’s baby is almost here, due at the same time as this mag and the Enlightenment Day celebration. No matter who wins this race, another fabulous Osho Celebration will have taken place by the time you read this, with soulful, heartful, mindful and bodyful music supplied by the Vancouver Satsang Non-Marching Band Local #1, and dancing by. . . perhaps you! It will have been great to see you again!

[How the "future" worked out is that the mag and celebration did come off
as scheduled, with some great music, although not many people came to share it.
At the "OSHO!" crescendo Michel blew his amp and Milan beat his drum
so hard he broke its skin. And Kamal was having a fierce labour but then
quieted down and didn't deliver for another two days – a son, Liam]

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