Hate the game, not the Playa

Today was the last day that M and I spend together for a while. Since Sai Baba was in Bangalore (instead of his compound in Puttapatti) we decided to get up early and check his shit out.

After two buses and a long walk we ended up at the gates of Brindivan, his Bangalore Ashram at 8:00AM. Sai Baba's cult is one of the richest religious movements in India today, so we were anxious to actually see him and witness his magnificence.

I really wanted to believe that he was the manifestation of all things good. I did, I swear. I was focused on not letting my predisposition to cynicism and hating shade the experience. M and I have met several guru-heads on our trip and found them all to be good people, if not a little odd.

I offered Sai Baba and his flock an entry into my heart, although I was certain that I'd find them all dupes. I was ready to see their points of view, and I'd forgive them of their blind faith and over-generous contributions if SB put on a good show.

I left with no pity. My heart was black. I hated everyone involved in the process of the Sai Baba sound and light show. Maybe before, I would have wanted the sai-heads to fly and be free of their awful oppressor. But after the morning "Darshan" - I wanted the ashram to burn.

The darshan, as M so eloquently descibed was nothing but a group sing-along and staring session at a crazy old guy, dressed in orange, sitting in a wheelchair and flying a powerful afro. He sat and stared and the entire group seemed to act as addicts at the crack house. People were on their knees, they were crying they were jumping up and down, climbing over each other just to get a glimpse of him staring.

Crazy indians, europeans, isrealis, and I'm sure more than a handful Marin county and other US freaks. They looked like they'd been kept in a closet for 20 years worshipping posters of SB. Before and after his viewing (completed in 20 minutes) they meditated on what his presence meant to the universal conscious.

I wanted to smack them and scream "Get a frickin' life you losers!" I suppose I've also got some issues (anger) to work out. But what a waste of good people's time and resources. I kept thinking about how many starving villagers the sale of SB's least favorite Mercedes feed.

I know that I'm being harsh, but I don't know what to say to these people. These believers, who spend lakhs and lakhs of rupees just jockeying to touch his hand or glimpse his teeth. I'd like to think that his obvious relying on assistive technology would be a boon for people with disabilities everywhere. However, looking back at the dead-pope's time on wheels... I doubt it.

I just have to wish SB and his flock of crazies eternal salvation, in hopes that I'll never have to deal with them in any of my future reincarnations. Amen. I'm going to miss M.