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carpeted stairway toward loud music and the distant clinking of silverware on plates. I felt completely out of place in this formal dinner atmosphere, surrounded by wine, women, loud music and dancing—people getting drunk and the smell of freshly cooked meat in the air. It was a far cry from the austerity of the ashram. I was feeling the worst kind of culture shock. I’d better walk down these stairs slowly, I decided, or like a diver surfacing too quickly I’ll get the bends and be put out of action.
And as I made my way down the stairs in slow motion, I recognized the first auspicious sign of the evening. Knowing that I was in store for an elaborate dinner, I reached for my wallet for comfort— and came up empty-handed! I had forgotten it! I couldn’t believe it; what an awkward position to be in. Was I to ask for a loan? Would the restaurant allow me to work off the dinner by washing dishes? Was this a lesson in humility—or had my brain melted from all the meditation at the ashram? How embarrassing! I was walking right into a lion’s den. “Baba, please be with me—and I’m not kidding! If ever I needed your help it’s now.”
Smiling and in good cheer, we met and were seated at a well- serviced table. Everyone ordered five-course dinners, and I stuck out like a sore thumb, ordering a small orange juice. “Oh, I’m really not hungry; I’m on a special diet—I eat infrequently, etc., etc. excuse, excuse.” They knew I was lying.
And then the conversation started. They began talking about experiments with rats and certain case histories—and I felt a million light years away. How can I be losing so much interest in that level of reality—and so quickly? I asked myself. How in the world can I tell them anything about Baba? They’re not interested in talking about spirituality—and I look completely out of it, like a spaced-out kid.
They didn’t seem even remotely interested in Sai Baba. And even if by a miraculous turn of events the conversation turned in his direction—would they ever want me to address the entire group? And if so, how would the group respond to a talk about God being on earth after they had just traveled 40 hours and were sleepy and irritable. And even if everything did work out and two or three people came with me the thousand miles to Bangalore, what interest did I really have in acting as a tour guide?