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The Psychiatrists
CHAPTER TWENTY
HALF AN hour to go before my scheduled talk to about a thousand Sai Baba devotees at Sohan Lal’s house. I was tired, absolutely bushed from all the hectic running around in Delhi. Sinking deep into the soft, overstuffed mattress, covered with large, bulky comforters and two huge pillows burying my head, I felt myself release into an immense, safe, black, womb-like void. How would I get the strength to speak? No question: if I was to speak, it would have to be with Baba’s strength because I had none left of my own.
My mind turned to the events of the last two days. Upon arrival in Delhi I was met by Mr. Sohan Lal, a long-time Sai devotee, president of the Sai organization in Delhi and the head of publications for the Sathya Sai Baba organization in India. He was a short, energetic man with a ready smile, full of life. When speaking about Baba he became childlike, laughing frequently when describing his own shortcomings. He was kind and gracious and we became fast friends.
Accommodations were great. I was to stay in a large guest room 159


































































































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