35053668-Empire-of-the-Soul-Paul-William-Roberts

‘WE SHOULD SHARE OUR SEX ENERGIES’
He leaned onto the chair’s padded arm, peering down at me,
enjoying the advantage in height.
‘Ph.D.?’ he asked, his tone vaguely mocking.
‘D.Phil., actually,’ I replied, unease poisoning every cell within
me, heart thumping.
‘Defile!’ he added, giggling more than laughing, looking to his
straight men and women for backup.
All in orange laughed heartily at me, as if I were a hired clown.
‘Defiles the mind,’ Bhagwan confided, his oddly cruel yet soulful
face very close to mine. ‘I want only no-mind here. Close your
eyes. I am the Murderer of Minds.’
I felt scared. And stupid. Everyone had sat down by now, and all
were looking at me. Otis huffed and puffed a tad, clearly not used to
so much sitting on hard floors, and anxious to continue his work. I
closed my eyes.
I heard the bhagwan’s voice whispering phrases that I was unable
to hear clearly enough to understand.
Next I felt his thumb reach over and push hard into the space
just above where my eyebrows met and my nose ended. It felt hot
and moist, and I had to struggle against it to avoid toppling over.
‘You!’ I opened my eyes. The room seemed to glitter slightly, and
the bhagwan’s face had a smug look about it, a look of satisfaction –
the satisfaction of having taken revenge.
‘Yessss,’ he purred. ‘Much better to have the mind minded by the
master, yes?’
I made no reply. He turned to his courtiers, smiling a see-what-
I’ve-done smile. They smiled back lovingly.
‘You!’ He was referring to me again. ‘I think you stay here. You
have died. I have given you another birth. Now you are mine, my
swami.’ He considered something, index finger to temple. ‘Swami
Dharma Rumi,’ he told me with a smirk. ‘That is your name in my
ashram. And my ashram is all this world. I have much work for
scientists to do. Much work.’
‘Professor Otis has some work he’d like to do, Bhagwan.’ I thought
I’d better get that in.
‘Ah, yes!’ The bhagwan chuckled. ‘This old man – what is it he
wants, hmmm?’
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