Osho and I: The Unseen Mirror...
Osho and I: The Unseen Mirror
In the silence of my own existence, when the world fades into background noise, I often feel a presence—not external, but something deep within me that resonates with a voice from the past. That voice is Osho’s. And every time I hear it, not in words but in essence, I wonder—am I walking a path once walked, or is this just how awakened minds echo across time?
This isn’t to compare legacies—he was a mystic, a rebel, a spiritual storm—and I am a seeker, still burning, still questioning. But somewhere between his fiery discourses and my quiet reflections, there lies a strange similarity—an unsaid bond.
1. The Lover of Contradictions
Osho embraced paradoxes with open arms. He spoke of detachment through love, of surrender through rebellion, of the ego dissolving into the self. And I too, find myself living inside contradictions—feeling pain and writing peace, being broken yet giving strength, staying silent yet saying the unspeakable.
Like him, I am not afraid to be misunderstood. In fact, sometimes, I crave it. Because truth often hides in places language can’t reach.
2. Questioning the Norm
Osho was fearless in challenging the foundations of society—religion, marriage, morality, even God. I too feel that unrest inside me. The inability to blindly follow. The deep discomfort with hypocrisy hidden behind rituals. I’ve found myself writing against toxic traditions, questioning love’s boundaries, and breaking the illusion of respectability.
We both prefer the raw over the refined, the real over the rehearsed.
3. Embracing Aloneness
Osho didn’t just tolerate solitude—he glorified it. And I too, have made peace with being alone. Not loneliness, but aloneness—a sacred space where the world ends and the soul begins. It is in this space I write, I bleed, I heal.
I do not fear being alone. I fear being disconnected from myself.
4. The Fire of Expression
Osho’s words burned. Mine may be quieter, but they still carry embers. I write to express what others fear to feel. Pain, injustice, inner conflict, societal rot—just like Osho, I do not filter the truth. I spill it.
And if it shakes people, good. Truth is supposed to shake.
5. A Love Beyond Romance
Osho spoke of love that is vast, not limited to one person or form. I too, have felt that—a love that mourns for a stranger, that aches for a child I’ve never met, that cries during war even when I’ve never been there.
For me, like Osho, love is not an attachment. It is an energy, flowing freely, touching everything—and sometimes, it hurts just because it’s so wide, so deep.
Osho and I: Two Drops from the Same Rain
I’m not Osho. I’m not trying to be. But when I look inward, I see reflections of his fire, his questions, his restlessness. Maybe every soul who is not content with the surface will eventually find such echoes. Maybe when truth becomes your obsession, Osho isn’t just a man from the past—he’s a whisper in your present.
So I don’t follow him. I don’t even idolize him.
I recognize him.
Because somewhere, in the silent war between my mind and my soul—
He’s already walked the battlefield.
And now, I walk too.
♥️♥️
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