Abandoned roads - Jos Lammers

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didn’t bring enough money to pay the rent of the stadium and the thousands of hotel rooms around it. Everything would work out, was the idea, until one property after another became vacant and it became a hassle to even pay the grocer that supplied the ashrams with food. The management team, of which I was a member, had meeting after meeting, until we saw only one solution: Maharaj ji. His allowance of five hundred dollars a day had to be cut in half. Cars and houses had to be sold. Maybe even his motor home. Bob Denton would fly over to Malibu to tell him. The next day he returned, with Maharaj ji. And the message that we were all fired. That same day we all had to show up at his divine residence. We waited in the satsang room, a bit like when in the old days you had to report with some others at the vice principal. Leaning on each other’s bravura to avoid that hollow feeling inside. Finally he came. One by one we kissed his feet that lay on a small white silk pillow. He looked down on us sitting on the floor from his chair, decorated with gold colored pieces of fabric. “You know”, he said, putting down his words one by one, “it is not up to you to interfere with the life of the perfect master.” After that he got up and left the room, followed by Bob Denton, gesturing to us to stay where we were. Half an hour later Bob came back into the satsang room, with a grin on his face like the one group member that had managed to stay tough in front of the 82
vice principal. And won. We all got our jobs back. Bob had explained to Maharaj ji what would happen if we really would split. Walking back on Colfax Avenue to my apartment with the long pile carpet in the bathroom and the dark wood kitchen, I longed for that truant feeling of the day before when we were all suddenly fired. Just like that time when I was on my way to kindergarten, and with a sudden insight into my possibilities turned around and just walked back home. Away from the dark door that was so heavy you couldn’t possibly open it by yourself. Away from the playground where you never knew if today again you could remain on good terms with the bullies. Away from the nun, who was supposed to help and protect, but turned out scary with her harsh white hat that left red lashes on her neck and forehead. Free. You know the sky will tumble down when you do it. Too bad. The next day I stepped into Bob Denton’s office. “I prefer staying fired”, I told him. It was a short conversation. He understood, he said. So much had happened. I could arrange a ticket for Amsterdam at ‘Travel’. Back home I could, no doubt, do something for the Divine Light Mission. No longer in an ashram, that was obvious of course. 83
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Mescaline, Maharaj ji and Mojave De
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Colophon © Text and publication: J
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Colored and distorted This story ab
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One My memories of the United State
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Two New York. I had forgotten how b
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But a good follower kept far from m
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his organization. But then again, t
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of sand on a coffin. But I bravely
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Pity. I think, when I sit here over
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good friend, said he would stay wit
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ling Indian mahatmas of Maharaj ji
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without the protection of car steel
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only meant for those who understood
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After that he taught to listen to t
Page 30 and 31: y now, almost familiar Chinese woma
Page 32 and 33: and devotion. Or hand it over, as e
Page 34 and 35: Seven From New York’s LaGuardia J
Page 36 and 37: circles, just like the songs. The m
Page 38 and 39: early in the morning at the end of
Page 40 and 41: the double row and remove me from t
Page 42 and 43: When I looked through the rear wind
Page 44 and 45: quarters (a door, a window frame, n
Page 46 and 47: listened to their endlessly repeate
Page 48 and 49: Ten Right. Denver it is. For me sti
Page 50 and 51: pillows on the porch. And the paint
Page 52 and 53: which I used to look out on the pav
Page 54 and 55: huge dusty parking lots alongside.
Page 56 and 57: that stuffed a large plastic crate
Page 58 and 59: Twelve It was about the greatest ho
Page 60 and 61: Even in Denver they agreed in the e
Page 62: efore we could open our Divine Shop
Page 65 and 66: meeting about international program
Page 67 and 68: When I was in Denver for about a ye
Page 69 and 70: the Rutgers foundation for the pill
Page 71 and 72: Everything looks dusty, hot and sle
Page 73 and 74: temple to praise the beauty of natu
Page 75 and 76: Fifteen At about four in the aftern
Page 77 and 78: The man behind the counter there, a
Page 79: Sixteen So there I was. In a city w
Page 83 and 84: Seventeen Ludlow apparently knows i
Page 85 and 86: The more the road descends, from ab
Page 87 and 88: there. I walk over to the suitcase
Page 89 and 90: The man follows the bird with his c
Page 91 and 92: Afterward At this moment, over thir
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Abandoned roads - Jos Lammers

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