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

‘IT IS NOT MY FIRE THAT BURN YOU HERE’
scholars simply assumed that I studied as they did, as those who
lived, as well as studied, their subject, in search of real knowledge.
I had never really doubted the wisdom I’d come to find and had
found here. I had no questions about the big issues. Even death no
longer really scared me. And I was even finally at peace with Sathya
Sai Baba.
I looked hard for exactly what did scare me. And I found it: I scared
myself. Why had the wisdom my mind had absorbed so long before
not moved into my heart, my body, my life? Reading a menu does
not stop you starving.
I was back in Benares, where some generous fate, and Baba’s
inspiration, had given me exactly what I’d asked for long ago. But
what I asked for was clearly not what I needed. Perversely, I now wanted
to meet the dom raja, the ‘shrouder’ – not any Sanskrit pundit, no
holy man, no sadhu, saint or astrologer. I wanted to meet the
untouchable king of death, the man said to have amassed a fortune
in the tens of billions by taking upon himself the karma, the sins, the
unknown crimes, of the uncountable men and women he burned
with the flame from his sacred fire.
Somehow I felt this hanged god, this inverted Christ who had
voluntarily assumed the sins of the world – for a price – had
something to say directly to me now. It seemed as if we might have a
great deal in common.
I met Amar, one of the dom raja’s sons, at Dashashvamedha Ghat,
the main ghat, where the whole city seems to pour through a funnel
into the river. An overcast sunset grazed through teasing clouds,
and bells were ringing in hundreds of temples. The monsoon had
not yet come here, either, was all promises. The Ganga Arati, the
evening hymn to Mother Ganges, blared out of a hundred rattling
tin speakers.
An unpleasantly soft and perfumed man in a silk kurta had
approached me, saying, ‘Massage, sahib? Two rupee?’ I had refused
but he then had taken my hands and started firmly massaging the
fingers and wrists. It felt quite pleasant.
I said I was looking for the dom raja.
‘You take massage, sahib. I send boy with message for Dom Raja’s
man. Massage finish, message arrive – he come. Yes?’
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