radhasoami. 191
pany of like-minded believers in the experience of Satsang such as the one we were
all engaged in; by devotion to the guru who is a conduit to the divine and especially
by the spiritual practices ofsurat shabd yoga, through which the “divine nectar
within can be tasted, the divine melody resounding within can be heard and the di-
vine light shining within can be seen.”
The direct quotations of passages from Maharajji’s long discourse—a discourse
that he has delivered hundreds of times before with minor variations—are intended
to convey its flavor as much as its content, if not more. I certainly realize that with-
out giving due attention to the nonverbal signals contained in the movement of his
hands, the play of his body, the changes in the pitch of his voice, flavor can only be
imperfectly conveyed, even by a verbatim reproduction of his imagery and
metaphors. I have also omitted here some of the parables Maharajji is so fond of
using—parables obviously suggesting to members of his audience that each one of
them is like a child in an amusement park who is happy only as long as he is holding
onto his father’s hand; or that he is like a child absorbed in play but only as long as
he does not remember his parents.
The intellectual contents of Maharajji’s discourse are familiar because they are
common to many mystical traditions. To list some of these repetitive elements: there
is the derogation of the perceived real world and an emphasis on its painful, with-
holding nature; there is the suggestion of mystical withdrawal as a solution to the
individual’s psychic needs and life problems; there is the offer of a system of psy-
chological and physiological practices by which a person can deliberately and vol-
untarily seek detachment from the everyday, external world and replace it with a
heightened awareness of inner reality; and, finally, there is a shared conviction that
this inner world possesses a much greater reality than the outer one.
Emotionally, to an Indian, the familiarity of the message, repeated often enough
since the beginning of childhood, constitutes its greatest strength and attraction.
Once again the men and women were transported to the time when, their small
hands clutched in those of older family members, they had sat up late into the night,
in the midst of a group of neighbors and kinsmen, sleepily listening to wandering
religiosi expound the mysteries of life. It was familiar from the many after-death cer-
emonies where they had listened to the priest and the family elders talk of the laws
of karma, the cycles of birth, life, and death, and the mukti that was every being’s
goal. Maharajji’s talk was then a murmur from the past—both individual and col-
lective—that had suddenly become audible. I too must confess to a curious mixture
of elation and unease as I listened to him. The source of the elation was difficult to