The Guru

by Claudia Lilai (Australia)

I didn't expect to find Nepal

I am face to face with the man who dies and comes back to life. Thousands of people from around the world line-up for a chance of his healing touch. Even more, just to catch a glimpse of him. And here I am, my friends and I the first-ever westerners to be allowed to stay at this ashram, asking politely for one more plum from his fruit bowl. Four years of a double major in philosophy and religious studies had led me to the typical post-breakdown, white man’s desperate search for meaning and truth pilgrimage: backpacking Nepal and India. I had long dreamed of meeting magical levitating guru’s in India, of which I heard multiple accounts from various characters during my studies. However, I never imagined that it would be a chance encounter in Nepal that took me on a surreal journey to meeting one such figure. I was at dinner with a group of backpackers I had just met at my hostel. One of the women, M, reveals that she is going to meet a guru that “dies and comes back to life every year.” She had a contact, someone at a Thai monastery who she met many years ago and through multiple random connections, knew about the location of this ashram, where this resurrected guru was meant to reside. With no more information than that, I immediately drop all of my plans and at 5 am the next day, follow this stranger on nothing more than my gut feeling and heresy. 20 hours later after a long and stressful journey, it should have been a relief to find this mysterious place. But a deep panic had set in, where on earth was I? What had I gotten myself into? It was the point of no return when we were greeted and led past the ominous gates onto the grounds. It felt like I was stepping through a waterfall, there was a noticeable difference in the feel of the space. There was a huge building in the middle of the complex, which looked completely abandoned. It was only at the end of my stay that I learned the structure was used only once for a massive ritual, involving hundreds of people. The ritual, I was told, had only been performed once before in human history and affected the entire world, the specifics of which I did not receive. The first time we met the guru was later that night, the meeting would decide if we would be allowed to stay and study the practice under his guidance. I was at ease when I saw, not a phantom or a ghoul, but recognisable human man before me. Afterwards, I revealed to my friends I was secretly scared he could read my mind, and I was desperately willing myself to think only positive thoughts. The roaring laughter which followed put me at ease, and I forgot my initial fear. I was very surprised at the amount of time he gave us. It was only after seeing videos online of thousands of people lining up to see him that I grasped how special this opportunity was. I learned that he did not “die” in the sense I understood, but takes samadhi. From what I gathered his consciousness merges with the universal consciousness and while most people choose to stay in that state letting their physical body die, he chooses to come back. Although I never witnessed his samadhi take place, I did see many bizarre happenings in that ashram. One woman would violently convulse and scream through all meditations, one person would make automatic mudras, very precise hand gestures, with no prior knowledge of anything he was doing. It was all very intense, and it proved too intense for a member of our party who after two days decided to leave. Unprepared and sudden paradigm shifts can be paralysing. M and I often discuss our experiences at the ashram, and still, after all this time we cannot truly understand what happened to us there. Although I will never forget one of the last things his closest disciple said to me upon my leaving: “yes, he can read your mind.”  