It was early morning on our final day in India. We were booked on a late night flight from Bangalore International to our first destination in south east Asia, Singapore. However before we left we planned to visit the most famous living guru in India today Sathya Sai Baba, said to be the reincarnation of the great Maharashtrian saint, Sai Baba of Shirdi.
Since I’ve been in India I’ve been looking for an opportunity to have some kind of spiritual experience. Around ten years ago I started practicing meditation after reading a book lent to me by my now good friend Tobias whilst I shared an apartment with him in the summer of 2000 whilst working as bar tenders. It was written by Osho, a somewhat infamous guru from India “who had the ability to explain the most abstract concepts in simple language, illustrated with witty anecdotes, who mocked gods, prophets, scriptures and religious practices and gave a totally new dimension to religion.” [quote from Khushwant Singh former editor of the Hindustan Times reflecting my own opinion at the time] After reading this book, which was largely a deconstruction of organised religion and an analysis of the woes of the modern world it made a big impression. One of subjects Osho tackled was the problems with stress that increasingly plagued the western world. It was something that I’d recently had very personal experience of and he said that just a few weeks practicing meditation would solve most, if not all of the problems for anyone suffering debilitating stress. After reading all his other insightful views on other subjects which I always found myself agreeing with I was willing to believe his claim, so I set out on trying to meditate. Whilst the book was not a practical guide to meditation, there was constant referral to high states of consciousness and awareness reached by achieving a state of mindlessness. Despite having little instruction I spent many hours alone in my room trying practice awareness and watch my thoughts until none remained. When I successfully achieved a temporary state of mindlessness something, which I still can only describe as some kind of magic, started to happen inside which induced feelings of well being. It was a turning point in my life. If I had to say one thing that helped me recover from my depression and panic attacks it was learning to meditate. As a result I’ve had an interest in metaphysics ever since and a number of experiences have led me to believe that there is more to the universe than the known physical realms of space, time, matter and energy.
Now I was in Osho’s homeland and the land that has given much of the world’s spiritual teachings and practices. Notably, India was the country in which Buddhism was born after Siddhartha Gautama achieved self-actualisation (enlightenment) something I was particularly interested in. I hoped that during my travels in India I might have an encounter with a guru who was also self-actualised (as many claim to be) and also take part in group meditation which is said to magnify the effects by creating what some call a Buddha-field. As we toured through India, there was one guru whose name kept popping up. Sai Baba. This is partly due to his popularity, but we’d had a couple of chance encounters, one with our friend Manoj who told us that Sai Baba was his guru and that of the restaurant owner we’d met in Gokana. It seemed that something was driving us in his direction.
We left Bangalore in a taxi early in the morning to make the 3 hour drive to Puttaparthy. Our plan was to visit the ashram, having lunch at one of the ashram’s canteens and then queue up for the afternoon darshan that would be held at four o’clock when we’d hopefully see Sai Baba and if we were really lucky be invited to an audience with him where we could ask questions. We’d then leave early in the evening making the journey back to Bangalore’s new international airport to catch our flight.
Having read the website for Sai Baba’s organisation we were well informed about ashram rules. Dress was important, with visitors asked to wear all white clothes that were otherwise reserved. Men and women were encouraged not to fraternise, especially at lunch where the canteens would serve men and women separately. Photos and any other recordings were strictly forbidden inside the ashram. My natural instinct is to question the validity of any such restrictions and rules but I prepared to respect them during my visit and ask such questions later.
It was just over 134Km to Puttaparthy, but thanks to one of the new highways that are being built all through India the journey wasn’t too long. We made a brief stop along the way for breakfast at roadside motel whose restaurant was soon full of westerners also making the journey to see Sai Baba. There seemed to be quite a mixture of people, from different countries and all age ranges. After making short work of a masala dosa and a coffee we were back on the road. It was only another hour until we were close to our destination and along the way images of Sai Baba began to increase in both frequency and size. By the time we made it to the town itself, it was clear there was a permanent state of Sai Baba mania in Puttaparthy. His image was everywhere, from advertisements to road safety instructions. Making our way along the main high street our driver pointed out all the buildings that were built as a result of Sai Baba’s foundation, a university, a sporting institute and a world class hospital, all free of charge. As we drove past the ashram itself, the opposite side was busy with hundreds of people walking up and down the street along the shops selling Sai Baba merchandise. Our driver pulled up just past the entrance and instructed us to call him later when we were ready to be picked up.
On entering we were quickly separated into queues for men and women so that body searches could be conducted. With a typically Indian use of man power four people patted each “quadrant” of each person who entered the ashram. Once inside the main gate Maren and I were reunited and we started to explore the ashram. Much like the ashram in Bangalore there was a main area where morning and afternoon darshans were held, along with accommodation for all the devotees who choose to stay in the ashram. The size of the ashram though was much greater and a number of other buildings, including a library, lecture hall, shops, a post office and canteens catering for western, north Indian and south Indian tastes were also all part of the ashram’s campus. We walked around, looking for somewhere to sit down and relax with a drink but continuing the similarities with the ashram in Bangalore it was a very functional kind of place and was largely devoid of any natural areas to sit, relax or even interact with other visitors. I briefly entered the library to see what kind of literature was being promoted. After being directed to the English section, I unsurprisingly found hundreds of books about just one subject, Sai Baba and his teachings. I stopped to skim through a book or two before leaving again. After finding little in the ashram to interest us we decided to pop out to have drink, but struggled to find a cafe or restaurant. It seemed that there was little demand for such places with most visitors taking advantage of the canteens inside the ashram and so we returned to the ashram for lunch. We headed over to the western canteen, deciding it would be our best bet for some fluent conversation. Maren would have lunch with the women and I’d be eating with the men. Once inside I quickly made my way to the food serving area, with a selection of soup, vegetables, salads and drinks being served by devotees dressed in all white who were no doubt doing their “seva” (selfless service) whilst staying at the ashram. Once I got my food I looked for a table to join hoping that I’d end up talking to someone. However I couldn’t really see somewhere I would fit in and instead positioned myself between several people, not wishing to intrude nor look to isolate myself. However, with nobody acknowledging my greeting on sitting down and a rather odd atmosphere I found myself eating alone and studying all the people around me. It was a mixed bunch, though most seemed older than myself with the majority seemingly middle-aged. Along with those who seemed to be North American and European there were people from all areas of the world. I noted several people from two big delegations from Indonesia and Japan who we had seen earlier wandering around the ashram. I didn’t get much of a feeling off anyone and there certainly didn’t seem to be much joy in the room. A couple of people stood out in particular. One guy was dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans (completely going against the suggested attire of white) with a long black tattoo on one arm and a wave of jet black hair. He looked like he could have walked on to the set of Grease as a T-Bird gang member. Most notably though his eyes looked so wild that I felt he could go explode with insanity at any moment. Also, as I sat and ate my dinner, a man who was probably somewhere in his sixties sat down at a table opposite. He looked very pale and as he began to eat his food he laboured with every mouth full and I guessed that he was probably terminally ill. His face told a thousand words, with deep frown lines etched on his face I found it hard to imagine him smiling. I suspected that he was also probably fairly wealthy as he seemed to be wearing an expensive watch. I speculated on the reasons as to why he might be here. With little to do except eat my food it wasn’t long I was outside again. Maren was waiting and had fared no better talking to people and like me had done her share of people watching with similar conclusions. I regretted not going to one of the Indian canteens, as I’m sure someone would have at least started a conversation with the usual “Which country?” or “What is your name?”
Having eaten we now set about finding out exactly where both of us would have to queue for the afternoon’s darshan. The darshan started at four, but we’d been told by our taxi driver to queue early if we hoped to get a good position to see Sai Baba and I was well prepared for a patient wait. As the book “Holy Cow” joked, one miracle that Sai Baba is able to perform is getting everyone to queue in a very orderly fashion, without pushing or shoving and in silence. I was initially well positioned, but having stupidly forgotten to take my flip flops off ended up at the back of the queue again when I was just about to enter the hall. It wasn’t a complete disaster though and before long I was in the hall and sitting down in a fairly good position to see everything that would be going on. I wasn’t very prepared for the wait however. Unlike many of the devotees, I didn’t have a prayer cushion and it wasn’t long before I was feeling uncomfortable sitting on the hard stone floor. It was nearly an hour and a half by the time the darshan started, with the chanting of mantras. This normally involves the continual repetition of one particular mantra however this chanting seemed to involve many different mantras that were impossible to pick up. Even those who seemed to have some sort of chanting book struggled to keep up. Having resigned myself to not being able to join in I instead tried to soak up the atmosphere. As I sat and listened I was unmoved. There was little in the way of excitement or fervour that I expected and most of the audience were half heartedly chanting, if at all. After nearly an hour of chanting, by which time Sai Baba would have normally made an appearance, the chanting was replaced by songs which crowd responded to more enthusiastically, but I still felt little connection to what was going on. As I continued to wait for Sai Baba to appear I began to consider what I was actually doing here. I was essentially going to church, albeit in India. Visiting Sai Baba wasn’t a million miles away from going to see the pope in the Vatican (something I’d never consider doing) and I felt no connection to the ashram or the people I was gathered with. I hoped that when Sai Baba appeared there would be some sort of transformation, however time was running out. The prayer songs had now been going for almost an hour and still Sai Baba had not appeared. It is said that he is not in good health these days and I strongly doubted that he was going to make an appearance. As much as I wanted to hold out my patience was wearing thin and we couldn’t leave much later without risking making our flight. Figuring that Sai Baba would have been and gone well before now I hadn’t even made a plan with Maren about how late we’d stay and since she was on the other side of the hall with the women we had no way of discussing things. It was now just after six and there was still no sign so with a heavy heart I got up and left. Once outside I soon found Maren. It seemed that she’d come to the same conclusion a few moments earlier and we made our way through the crowds still hanging around the hall so we could leave. I was very disappointed, four hours of waiting around for nothing! I wanted to leave as quickly as possible, not only the ashram but India itself. As we speeded towards the airport in our taxi we both felt like it was a sad end to the first part of our Indian adventure. On reflection though I was reminded of the words of our friend Manoj who said “You don’t choose your guru, your guru chooses you.” Well Sai Baba certainly didn’t choose me. However whilst I didn’t connect with him, the ashram or any of the people visiting, his general message and multi-faith approach is good. Also my impression from the people that ran the ashram, who were warm and friendly, was also positive. I was also reminded by the conclusion of book called “Yoga school dropout” by Lucy Edge who failed in her quest to find a guru during her travels around India and decided that she didn’t need one. Well I certainly won’t be trying hard to for the reminder of my travels so a guru really will have to choose me now.
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