The birthplace of two great souls, osho and osho's mother, this house still stands today as a place where you can feel the great energy in its depths.
Osho’s birth house is two-storied, built by plenty of hard woods, about 200 years ago. Such a wooden house is rare at that time. This house wall is made from harden mud, because there was no brick nor concrete at that time. The wall’s thickness is over 25cm, so it keeps house pretty much cool even in summer.
We did some repair construction for this house, mainly for the leaking roof, and strengthen a part of wall. But basic foundation was stiff. Still now, there is grandeur atmosphere inside the house, it will lead you to silence and blessing meditation.
Osho birth house is about 500 meters from osho tirth ashram. To visit the house, an appointment must be made with the ashram in advance. In Osho's house you can sit and meditate in silence.
Rs.200 for 30 minutes
Rs.500 for 60 minutes
Rs.600 for 30 minutes
Rs.1100 for 60 minutes
Osho’s birth house is two-storied, built by plenty of hard woods, about 200 years ago. Such a wooden house is rare at that time. This house’ wall is made from harden mud, because there was no brick nor concrete at that time. The wall’s thickness is over 25cm, so it keeps house pretty much cool even in summer.
We did some repair construction for this house, mainly for the leaking roof, and strengthen a part of wall. But basic foundation was stiff, so you can go upstairs even now. Still now, there is grandeur atmosphere inside the house, it will lead you to silence and blessing meditation.
Book- From Misery to Enlightenment by OSHO
Chapter #14 Don't Walk on Water--Jump into Consciousness
My mother was telling me just yesterday… Vivek listened to her talking so animatedly for the first time in so long; otherwise whatever she is asked is answered in one or two words: yes or no, and the conversation is over. But yesterday she was talking for a long time and she was very animated, so Vivek asked me, “What was your mother telling you?”
I told her she was remembering a few things. I have not yet told Vivek what my mother was telling me because it was a long story. She was telling me that when I was five months old in her womb, a miracle happened.
She was going from my father’s house to her father’s house, and it was the rainy season. It is customary in India for the first child to be born at the maternal father’s home, so although it was the rainy season and very difficult – no roads, and she had to go on a horse – the sooner she went, the better. If she waited longer then it would have become more difficult, so she went with one of her cousins.
In the middle of the journey was a big river, the Narmada. It was in flood. When they reached the boat, the boatman saw that my mother was pregnant, and he asked my mother’s cousin, “What is your relationship?” He was not aware that he would get into trouble so he simply said, “We are brother and sister.”
The boatman refused; he said, “I cannot take you because your sister is pregnant – that means you are not two, you are three.” In India, there is a custom, an old custom – perhaps it started in the days of Krishna – that one should not travel on water, particularly in a boat, with one’s sister’s son. There is a danger of the boat sinking.
The boatman said, “What guarantee is there that the child in your sister’s womb is a girl and not a boy? If he is a boy, I don’t want to take the risk because it is not a question only of my life; there are sixty other people going in the boat. Either you can come or your sister can come; I won’t take both.”
There were hills and jungle on both sides, and the river was really vast at that point. The boat used to go only once a day. It would go in the morning and then it would come back by the evening. The next morning it would go again, the same boat. So either my mother had to remain on this side, which was dangerous, or go to the other side, which was just as dangerous. For three days they continued to ask him, beg him, saying that she was pregnant and he should be kind.
He said, “I can’t help it – this is not done. If you can give me a guarantee that it is not a boy, then I can take you; but how can you give me a guarantee?” So for three days they had to stay there in a temple. In that temple there lived a saint, who was in those days very famous in that area. There has now arisen a city around the temple in the memory of that saint, Saikheda. Saikheda means “the village of the saint.” Sai means saint; he was known as Sai Baba. He was not the same Sai Baba who became world famous – Sai Baba of Shirdi – but they were contemporaries.
Sai Baba of Shirdi became world-famous because of the simple coincidence that Shirdi is near Mumbai, and all the celebrities of Mumbai and the rich people of Mumbai started going to Sai Baba of Shirdi. The richer you are, the more famous you are, the more successful you are, the more you are in need of something to give you fulfillment, because all your success, your riches, your fame has brought you nothing. These are the emptiest people in the world, the hollowest. And because Mumbai is a world center, soon Sai Baba of Shirdi’s name started reaching outside India, and so many miracles were created around him.The same was the situation with this Sai Baba who lived in that temple.
Finally my mother had to ask him, “Can you do something? We have been here for three days. I am pregnant and my cousin has told the boatman that he is my brother, and he won’t take us in the boat. Now, unless you do something, say something to that boatman, we are in a fix. What to do? My brother cannot leave me here alone; I cannot go alone to the other side. On both sides are wild jungles and forests, and for at least twenty-four hours I will have to wait alone.”
I never met Sai Baba, but in a way I did meet him; I was five months old. He just touched my mother’s belly. My mother said, “What are your doing?” He said, “I am touching the feet of your child.” The boatman saw this and said, “What are you doing, Baba? You have never touched anybody’s feet.” And Baba said, “This is not just anybody, and you are a fool – you should take them to the other side. Don’t be worried. The soul that is within this womb is capable of saving thousands of people, so don’t be worried about your sixty people – take her.” So my mother was saying, “At that time I became aware that I was carrying someone special.” I said, “As far as I understand, Sai Baba was a wise man: he really befooled the boatman. There is no miracle, there is nothing. And boats don’t sink just because somebody is traveling with their sister’s son. There is no rationality in the idea, it is just absurd. Perhaps sometime it may have happened accidentally and then it became a routine idea.”
That is my own understanding because in Krishna’s life his mother’s brother was told by the astrologers: “One of your sister’s children will kill you.” The brother kept his sister and his brother-in-law in prison. She gave birth to seven children, seven boys, and he killed them all. The eighth was Krishna, and of course when God himself was born, the locks of the prison opened up. The guards fell fast asleep, and Krishna’s father took him out.
The river Yamuna was the boundary of Kansa’s kingdom. Kansa was the person who was killing his sister’s sons in the fear that one of them was going to kill him. The Yamuna was in flood, and it is one of the biggest rivers in India. Krishna’s father was very much afraid, but somehow the child had to be taken to the other side, to a friend’s house whose wife had given birth to a girl so he could exchange them. He wanted to bring the girl back with him because the next morning Kansa would be there asking, “Where is the child?” and planning to kill him. He wouldn’t kill a girl – it had to be a boy. But how to cross this river? There was no boat in the night, but it had to be crossed. When God can open locks without keys, without anybody opening them – they had simply opened up, the doors opened up, the guards fell asleep – God would do something.
So he put the child in a bucket on his head and passed through the river – something like what happened to Moses when the ocean parted. This time it happened in an Indian way. It could not have happened to Moses because that ocean was not Indian, but this river was. As he entered the river, the river started rising higher. He was very much afraid: what was happening? He was hoping the river would subside, but it started rising. It went to the point where it touched the feet of Krishna, then it receded. This is the Indian way, it cannot happen anywhere else. How can the river miss such a point? When God is born and passing through her, just giving way is not enough, not mannerly. Since that time there has been this idea that there is a certain antagonism between a person and his sister’s son: Krishna killed Kansa. The river was crossed, it subsided; it favored the child. Since then all the rivers of India are angry against maternal uncles. And that superstition is carried even today.
I told my mother, “One thing is certain – that Sai Baba must have been a wise man and had some sense of humor.” But she wouldn’t listen. And it became known in the village what had happened, and to support it, after a month, something else happened – in life there are so many coincidences out of which you can make miracles. Once you are bent upon making a miracle, then any coincidence can be turned into a one. One month later there was a great flood, and it was almost like a river in front of my mother’s house in the rainy season. There was a lake, and a small road between the lake and the house, but in the rainy season so much water came that the road was completely like a river, and the lake and the road became merged into one. It was almost oceanic; as far as you could see it was all water. And that year India had perhaps the biggest floods ever. Floods ordinarily happen every year in India, but that year a strange thing was noted: floods started reversing the rivers’ flow of water. The rains were so heavy that the ocean was not able to take the water as quickly as it was coming, so the water at the ocean front was stuck; it started flowing backward. Where small rivers fell into big rivers, the big rivers refused to take the water because they were not able even to contain their own water. The small rivers started moving backward.
I have never seen it – I also missed that one – but my mother says that it was a strange phenomenon to see the water moving backward. And it started entering houses; it entered my mother’s house. It was a two-story house, and the first story was completely full of water. Then it started entering the second story. Now, there was nowhere to go, so they were all sitting on the beds, the highest place that was possible there. But my mother said, “If Sai Baba was right, then something will happen.” And it must have been a coincidence that the water came up to my mother’s stomach and then receded.