Written by my friend Igal Moria (once named Igal Harmelin) He used to be a close student of Maharishi's and for the past 10 years has been associated with spiritual teacher Andrew Cohen and with his magazine, "What Is Enlightenment?"
In 1959, a young Indian monk with long, dark hair, clad in a silk dhoti and wearing wooden flip-flops, was waiting at the terminal of the Honolulu airport to board a flight to Los Angeles. When called to board the plane, he grabbed his only piece of "luggage"—a small rolled carpet that included all his worldly possessions. None of the other passengers waiting with him expected the diminutive man with bronze skin, keen eyes and pleasant countenance to become one of the most influential and well-known figures of the second half of the 20th Century. His name was Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and this was the first time he was about to visit the continental USA and from there, spread his Transcendental Meditation technique around the world. Between that day and February 5th of this year, his day of passing, one of the most captivating, colorful and intriguing dramas of our times unfolded, a mythological story about a giant of consciousness who has created a world-wide movement, touched the hearts of millions and changed the lives of countless individuals, directly and indirectly. He was born Mahesh Prasad Varma in the central Indian town of Jabalpur in 1917. 22 years later, when he was a graduate student of physics, a mysterious saint by the name of Swami Brahmananda Saraswati came to town. Young Mahesh, whose uncle was a disciple of that saint, was introduced to him—and his life was changed forever. He would serve the Swami, whom he always referred to as Guru Dev, the divine master, until the latter's death, 13 years later. While the world would want to remember Maharishi with the aid of convenient sound bites—"The Guru of the Beatles," "The Giggling Guru", "The Man Who Taught the World to Meditate" or "The Man who Kick-started the New Age"—Maharishi's sole focus was completing his master's project: securing that the Vedic wisdom would not go extinct. Unlike many spiritual teachers who flocked to the West in the 60's and 70's, partly encouraged by his fame and success, Maharishi's main goal has always been India, whom he called "The Land of the Veda." There he hoped to uproot the common, life-negating belief that the realization of material goals was in opposition to spiritual aspirations and that in order to engage in spirituality one should renounce the world. This was a fundamental misinterpretation of the scriptural intention, he would vehemently claim, and is chiefly responsible for India's backwardness. The basis for material prosperity, he taught, must be the development of consciousness. "Water the root to enjoy the fruit," he would say. "Develop your consciousness in order to enjoy material life." Just as a wise commander who wishes to conquer a territory focuses his efforts on capturing the fort that oversees that territory, so should those who wish to prosper in every aspect of their lives, spiritual and material, develop their consciousness. Soon he understood that he would not be able to get very far in India: the simple masses were overtaken by inertia while the educated elite were fascinated by materialism, either in its Western version or the communist one. Maharishi, who was not able to think in small terms, understood that only if he established himself as a spiritual authority in the West and flourished there materially as well, did he stand a chance to affect a change in India. This is why he left India. * * * My first encounter with Maharishi occurred in August of 1973 in a kibbutz in the North of Israel. He was not there himself, but his audio-taped lectures were played to about fifty of us who assembled there for a 3-day intensive of Transcendental Meditation. I was 19 and had learnt the technique just three weeks earlier, and this was the first time that I heard the high-pitch, melodic voice of the man who was about to become my guru for the next 25 years. He spoke dynamically, with great confidence and loads of inspiration, yet he was calm and his voice and laughter were soothing. The intensive meditations, coupled with Maharishi's talks, catapulted those present to a different, "transcendental" state of consciousness. There and then I resolved to work for him and with him and to dedicate my life to the dissemination of his system of meditation. For a quarter of a century he was the hub of my life. At his service I washed dishes, cut vegetables; purchased food, equipment and flights; operated meditation centers in different countries; and even established, at a governmental university in Crimea, Ukraine, a department for "Maharishi's Vedic Science and Technology." Above all, for years I worked with him on developing courses relating his Vedic Science to world religions. But what remained with me most from these full and unusual years was the experience of his presence, especially in small circles or while working personally with him, even through the phone. He would carry you to a different dimension, "his" dimension, the transcendental dimension of life, in a moment, with one glance or one word. He would evoke in you a love so powerful that you would forget the world. As Deepak Chopra wrote in his obituary: "You could feel [his mysterious presence] before entering a room. You could be walking down the hallway to his private apartments with the weight of the world on your shoulders and feel your worries drop away with every step, until by the time your hand touched the doorknob, by some magic you felt completely carefree." On January 11 of this year, just weeks before he died, Maharishi bid farewell to the world and announced that his work had been accomplished. Indeed, he left behind an international empire: meditation and Ayurveda centers, academies for Vedic Science, and an organization that has a very solid economic foundation (its US property alone is valued at hundreds of millions of dollars). The organization's wealth ensures the continuation of his educational projects in India, which distributes thousands of scholarships for Vedic studies to boys from the Brahmin cast and thereby ensures the continuation of the study of the Veda. He definitely saved this teaching for extinction, at least for a while. Historians of spirituality in the 20th century will have to admit, that Maharishi's movement has catalyzed one of the most important processes of that century: the infusion of Western culture with Eastern concepts. It boosted the self-help industry that now rolls many billions of dollars a year, and has also created the milieu within which original Western teachings could arise. The world that Maharishi leaves behind is quite different than the one he came to, partly because of him. Paradoxically, the man who did so much to enhance the spiritual evolution of the West was, himself, an orthodox Hindu who did not believe in the modern concept of evolution, neither biological nor cultural. He believed, for example, that in days past, during the reign of the mythical king Ram, the world enjoyed a "golden age" and that the re-establishment of Vedic civilization would return us to this heavenly period. This was the faith he lived by and this is the faith he died by. The last chants, voiced by the countless participants in his cremation ceremony in Allhahabad, was "Sri Ram, Jai Ram, Jai Jai Ram", a song of praise to that divine king who was said to be an embodiment of the god Vishnu. As a sign of our times, those ancient ceremonies were broadcast live over the internet. As I watched them, I was bowing down to him in my heart with immense appreciation and inexpressible gratitude. No virus found in this outgoing message. Checked by AVG. Version: 7.5.518 / Virus Database: 269.21.7/1327 - Release Date: 3/12/2008 1:27 PM
