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

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EMPIRE OF THE SOUL<br />

8<br />

‘If I Didn’t Want You to Leave This Place You Never Could’<br />

BANGALORE TO VENKATAGIRI, 1977<br />

If everyone wants to be a ruler, who is <strong>the</strong>re to be ruled?<br />

A ruler may have a few villages only to rule over but a beggar has all <strong>the</strong> world<br />

to beg in.<br />

– Telegu Proverbs<br />

My experiences with Ray depressed me. I felt I’d lost track <strong>of</strong> my<br />

purpose in coming to India, so I returned to England to resume<br />

doctoral studies. Before long, though, tired <strong>of</strong> modern academia’s<br />

limits and its myopic view <strong>of</strong> spiritual matters, I looked for ways to<br />

return to India. Sathya Sai Baba just wouldn’t leave me alone.<br />

Waking and sleeping – in dreams – I felt a pr<strong>of</strong>ound need to return.<br />

Oxford University was no place to be if you wanted to explore ways<br />

<strong>of</strong> reining in <strong>the</strong> mind. Bangalore University, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand,<br />

had possibilities. I accepted a position <strong>the</strong>re lecturing on Shakespeare.<br />

Although my sole experience <strong>of</strong> Baba had been in Puttaparthi, he<br />

spent much time near a place called Whitefield, an Anglo-Indian<br />

community where he had started his first college. Whitefield was a<br />

mere twenty-odd minutes from Bangalore.<br />

Brindavan, as <strong>the</strong> college-ashram was known, seemed cool and<br />

peaceful compared to Puttaparthi’s raging inferno. The very first<br />

day I sat <strong>the</strong>re waiting for this Brindavan darshan, Baba told me to<br />

go over to his house. I assumed this meant an interview. It didn’t.<br />

Crammed into a room <strong>the</strong> size <strong>of</strong> a Volkswagen bus, I asked <strong>the</strong><br />

dignified old gentleman next to me what he did for a living. He was<br />

president <strong>of</strong> India. A few yards away was <strong>the</strong> prime minister,<br />

Narasimha Rao. He wasn’t <strong>the</strong> prime minister <strong>the</strong>n, <strong>of</strong> course, but<br />

he would be by <strong>the</strong> time I visited India in 1992.<br />

When Baba entered, we all stood, and he inspected us like a general<br />

with very substandard troops. I was informed by Dr. Gokak – <strong>the</strong>n<br />

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