Buddham Saranam Gacchami Osho Apr 2026

The ferryman continued: “You chant Buddham Sharanam Gacchami as if the Buddha is a person outside you. But Osho’s Buddha is not Gautama the prince. Osho’s Buddha is your own awareness when the ‘I’ disappears. To go for refuge to the Buddha means to drop the ego — the one who thinks ‘I am going, I am seeking, I am suffering.’”

One evening, Raghava sat by the river, frustrated. “I have taken refuge in the Buddha a million times,” he cried to the sky, “yet I remain the same! Where is the transformation Osho speaks of? Where is the buddha in me?”

Long ago, in a small village on the banks of the Ganges, lived a man named Raghava. He was a scholar of scriptures, proud of his knowledge, yet deeply restless. Every morning, he would chant, "Buddham Sharanam Gacchami" — I go to the Buddha for refuge. But his voice was mechanical, a ritual without roots. He had read thousands of sutras, yet anger flared in him at the slightest insult. He knew the theory of compassion, yet envy gnawed at his heart whenever his neighbor prospered.

And in that emptiness, for the first time, he understood: buddham saranam gacchami osho

Raghava felt a strange stillness descend.

Just then, an old ferryman approached, his face weathered but eyes sparkling like a child’s. He carried no scriptures, no malas. He simply smiled.

Raghava listened, puzzled.

The ferryman stepped into the river. The water touched his ankles, then his knees. He turned and said:

Buddham Saranam Gacchami is not a journey. It is the end of the traveler. “When you go to the Buddha, you are missing the point. You have to become the Buddha. Not going somewhere — but waking up where you are.”

Raghava frowned. “I, the seeker, go to the Buddha, the awakened one.” To go for refuge to the Buddha means

He pointed to an old wooden boat tied to the shore. It was empty, rocking gently with the waves.

“Scholar-ji,” the ferryman said, “you chant Buddham Sharanam Gacchami — but tell me, who is going where?”

“Look at that boat,” the ferryman said. “Once, a Zen master was crossing a lake in an empty boat. Another boat came crashing into him. The master was furious — he shouted, he cursed. But when he looked closer, he saw the boat was empty. His anger vanished instantly. Who was there to be angry at?” Where is the buddha in me

“So… what should I do?” he whispered.