By Ernest C. Owen
A lady we know who has just returned from Prashanthi Nilayam, after some careful critical comments from me before she left, has broken the spell Baba had on her. Now she is only telling persons she can trust, for she has an old friend who is so emotionally attached to Baba that she is wondering how to deal with this without hurting her. This is a common problem after discovering that Baba is not all he cranks himself up to be… how to handle the reoriention towards one’s friends, family and the world in general.
This lady knew about the sexual accusations beforehand, but was inclined not to lay much weight on them for various reasons and possible explanations. These hardly had any influence on her turnaround anyhow. Nor did the dreadful current ashram regime of intrusively feeling the body and looking into everything (even opening personal body belts under one’s clothes) before darshan and massed guards, even a hefty female policewoman in sari snooping amid the ladies now… she learned from one person that bomb threats are the reason (probably the Tamil Tigers, but no visitors are told anything, of course! Think if people should stay away, what would God Almighty do?).
The perceptions that were decisive in her final switch of faith (after a year of wondering about the allegations) was seeing Baba himself. It awakened recall of the first fortnight she had ever spent at the ashram when she nearly left… before she began to suppress all negative thoughts. The same perceptions returned, Sai Baba’s constant avoidance of the women, a blinkered reflection of the disrespect for women that imbues Indian society – not of a universal acceptance or divine love. Sai Baba prefers men, that is a fact!
Then there is the pomp and glitter in the ashram, the red carpets rolled out and tended so carefully for him to walk on… now an old man, somewhat stooping back, a ravaged face. Baba’s words “Love my uncertainty” only reminded her of the awful predictability of his darshan round, straight to the men, the chit-holders, various persons put in special places by the Seva Dals as usual, and the VIPs. She reacted to the same old grim facial expressions, which by any standard are not loving! From experience she could now tell to which side he would move next, whom he would stare through, to whom he would say a few words. It became farcical…he was not there for the devotees, they were there as a mirror for him, the super narcissist.
She also found herself wondering that, were it really true that one shares in Baba’s ‘divine love energy’, why can’t it be recognised in any way? (And I admit that there is far more fanciful talk about it – not least constantly by Baba – than there is evidence of it. By and large, nothing seems to change there in this respect as time goes on. A few smiles, touching some objects, taking letters… what’s so wonderful about all such things, really? What difference do they actually make other than a temporary feeling of self-satisfaction?) Were it not for Baba’s paranormal powers (which she does not doubt he has), she says, he would certainly not have the following he has. She concluded that Sai Baba has had his chance, and he has failed her test!