Bruce Wagner - The Empty Chair

“You might ask my motive for inviting them in. And I’ll tell you… I agreed to rendezvous for one reason, and one reason only: I was intensely curious to lay an eye on the man who had doubled the offer made by the aforementioned intermediary, which in itself was a king’s ransom! To make things even more interesting, no one at the banks or newspapers had ever heard of him!

“But these stories amuse. I’m quite certain these fools can be handled. What I am next going to tell you is an animal of a different stripe. It is far more pertinent, as it involves your personal welfare. So you must listen very carefully…

“You are aware you’ve always been envied, true? From the beginning! O yes… I know this sort of question makes you uncomfortable , you must not answer, there is no need. It’s rhetoric. You see, the personal trait of yours Baba admired most was that you made no investment in the spiritual world. He extolled very much that part of you which would not feel betrayed if one day he were to close up shop… that would not feel fleeced or cheated of his rightful profits. O he used to tell me this about you with a gleaming eye — yours is an attitude not the norm , I insure! Because in the end, all seekers desire for a profitable enterprise, a pay-off, a dividend! They want to be in the black… You yourself have seen the type of person who is attracted to Baba and his teachings. Cast-offs of the Earth — as it should be. You were one too, no? A somewhat broken man when first you arrived, I recall… ashrams are filled with the miserable, the tragic, the befuddled. But let me say: the courage that gets them here, and watches over them on their long journeys, the dogged single-mindedness of purpose is also the very thing that makes them available for nobler pursuits. Other than saving their own hides, which of course is a natural inclination. Do you know what I’m saying, sir? Here’s what I’m saying. There are certain amongst them — amongst the so-called advanced echelon who’ve been here a while — there are certain amongst them who have their eye — have had their eye, for years now! — on the guru’s chair. O you would be surprised at who fancies himself a candidate. Sergei, of course… he’s always been outgunning for you. And Ludmilla! Ludmilla from Romania! Barely with Baba for three years, but who knows… lady siddhas are suddenly in vogue. She might just be voted into that chair by popular demand.

“The plotting is worthy of Shakespeare! And you , my American friend, have been spared —for the moment. Because you are top seed ! It’s all sport, I liken it to tennis that way — did you know Baba and me used to travel to Wimbledon? We did, oh yes, when Baba taught at Oxford. There are many elimination matches before sudden death… but this should not concern you, not unduly. Like my ‘window shoppers,’ pretenders to the throne may be handled .

“You have other problems, friend, believe in me!

“I know you are a worldly man. You have guts , and would never have gotten so close to Baba if that weren’t the case, he simply would not have allowed it. The stars would not have let it happen. Yet I must tell you: about some things, you are stunningly naïve. You spent years under the protectorship of your munificent guru. You stared only into his light — precisely as it should have been — which made you blind to other influences at work. But you have that protection no more! Bombay is a metropolis of saints and sadhus, my friend, but it is also a city of rogues, of thuggees … many so-called holy men are one and the same! They are indistinguishable! There are networks of gurus in rule of whole sectors , each with the iron hand of a warlord! Swami mafiosi… and these are dangerous men, not simply because of the counterfeit nature of their teachings. Many have followers who know nothing of their greed and violent ways and hold them in their hearts with the innocence of children! With the same loving regard as did you your precious guru… These criminals give satsang, sit cross-legged on great stages groaning with flowers. It is not manna one smells in the air, but manure ! They hold forth to the limpets , the lampreys and the sheep in stolen words pried from Baba’s mouth — cribbed from his books— your books! — rolling the pirated phrases ’round in shit like pigs in mud till the sentences fit their mercenary temperament or whatever the mood of the morning.

“Let me get to the point: there are two who need watching out for. They wish to collect Baba’s legacy as if it were some sort of payment due. There is a longhaired thuggee, a murderer , who is chauffeured here and there in a Rolls-Royce wearing silken pajamas. He actually believes he is our long-lost son! His attorney forced me to give a sample of my blood, it was of course no match but still he persists —such are the delusions! I am telling you, American friend, this is all very serious! The thuggee believes in all his diseased heart that I am Mommy and Baba was Daddy , the man has his flock of sheep believing it too! A murderer and a fool! As long as your guru was alive , they never came near. Naturally, these men had nothing to fear from Baba, but fear him they did. And let me inform you of something you seem not to know: they are now ready to take what they are most certain is theirs! Only a single thing still prevents them from storming the palace — a slender thread — because what ecstasy to at last be moguls of Mogul Lane, you better know it! It is the jewel in their crown! The only single thing that still prevents them from staking their claim is the very real hesitation in the face of those loyal masses who did rightfully worship our Baba. They are keenly aware those devoted masses are a sleeping giant best not awakened! Do you know what these cads fear most? Humiliation! Defeat! Loss of face. It would not bode well for their reputations, to be chased out on a rail! That would be a terrible misstep , serious enough to threaten their entire operation! General besmirchment and bloody turf wars would ensue.

“I have one more thing to add. I know you are worldly enough to understand there is always a corker —a mad one, more barbaric than his brethren — there is always a lunatic looking to make his mark. The corker’s advantage — in tennis, this is called ‘add’—is recklessness. And I, my friend, through a skein of intelligence maintained by Baba loyalists, am now privy to the identity of our greatest threat…

“This is the longest and shortest of what I am saying: You must sit in that chair. Swallow your stubborn pride and muddle through a month of satsang until you have sea legs! Accept the momentous responsibility of that which has fallen upon your shoulders by divine plan! If you continue to give weight to cautious indecision — which as you know has its roots in that distinctive American trait called neurosis —if you continue to fly in the face of your guru himself , you shall find there is a terrible price to pay. I tell you the guru-thuggees are out for blood! When your fanny hits that seat and not before shall you be safe and under new protectorship : that of the masses. Already, the guru-thuggees know who you are — oh yes! They have been boning you up for some time. Have you not seen them, hanging ’round outside your apartment? Of course you haven’t, why would you be looking? You’re blissfully unaware. Not a care in the world! A little baba in the woods… well they are not interested in your autograph, sir. We’ve all been looking, all but you! They know you were Baba’s favorite; they used to fear you. But each day they fear you less and less!