Wednesday, Novemeber 22, 2000
Well, you wake with a start and a fluttering heart 'cos there's a thought that's started to gnaw at you,
So you push it away but it's back the next day and then later that night it's grown fat too.
It's the horror of doubt! will Maharaji find out? not only you've thought but you're feeling,
And you gaze in despair through the thickening air for the Master can see through the ceiling.
Yes! there's doubt in your mind - evil trickster unkind - that's your sworn implacable enemy.
Now your ears start to ring and your fear that it's him, having caught the vibe of your blasphemy.
For you've followed his 'truth' from since you were a youth and it's coloured the whole of your world view:
Leave no doubt in your mind, was the Guru's mean bind: Know that thinking for you is my purlieu.
Well, that cannot be true, a thought murmurs to you - that Rawat is a fraud, and you know it.
Then the voice comes again, saying I'm your friend Ken, and just listen to me or you'll blow it.
You've kissed far too much sock, and you've quite run amock with devotion and satsang and slaving.
That you've given your life to a silly gobshite, makes you angry and soon you are raving.
Then your anger's so vast it can't possibly last, it's too deep and too fast and too perfect,
You're twisting and burning, your stomach is churning, you've given your life to the goober sect.
And you just can't believe you could be so naive - it hurts to admit you were hoodwinked.
Could it all be a test? Or some wierd kind of jest? No... for the truth is all clear and succinct.
He was spinning to fool; capture lives for his rule; the whole point of his game was to shell you.
Well, to save your esteem you fight back and you scream Ken's horrid for trying to tell you.
Then you try to tell Ken he just doesn't get Zen, you know he's too in his mind
to get it,
The Master's reflection defies Ken's inspection; an enigma - and Ken shouldn't forget it.
Yeah? So sit down, says Ken, we'll start over again, for the heat from your brain is too boiling.
Look, he has
messed with you, you've been played for a fool, it's your party his arti's been spoiling.
He's just wordy for fools, spinning maya that pulls so you'll follow the lord with devotion.
You gave up your career, at your family you'd sneer, you were hooked on the lying lord's potion.
You've believed in a Lord who was never of course at all what he wanted you thinking.
Then the grief comes again, you're in terrible pain and the pit of your stomach is sinking.
And you're feeling ashamed though you cannot be blamed for he hooked you with tricks and with lying.
And the grief sweeps over, you're hating your captor, and you're writhing and reeling and crying.
As the truth now sinks in, you come out of your spin and rue sadly the wreakage of dreaming,
You loved a mad piper, a poisonous viper, corrupted by lust, maya, and scheming.
Now you've seen through his ruse you can only refuse to allow that his business continue,
So cult busting's your song, and the world sings along, we'll have no such hoods in our retenue.
You've defeated the dread that infected your head, and accepted your heart as your mind's counterpart; you've returned to the race with a real human face; not selected by God, you're an ordinary bod with a life to enjoy and a cult to destroy. His flying and yachting, his scheming and plotting, his lies and confusion, his daft self-delusion, are no fun for a lord when he's seen as a desolute drover;
Oh! the journey's been hard to be free of the lard, for you followed too long (as indeed is this song) - and thank goodness they're both of them over!
John TuckerWith grateful acknowledgements to WS Gilbert (The Nightmare)