The Arizona Republic * TRAVEL * SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2002 T9

Guru's reach is all the way to Malibu

New Delhi, India

I woke up in the second class compartment of an Indian train arriving in New Delhi which was exactly where I hoped to be when I lulled myself to sleep the night before by sticking two wadded up balls of toilet paper in my nose to avoid the pungent aroma of the laundry I was using for a pillow.

I met up with my aunt that morning at her hotel. She was in New Delhi to attend a four day "event" at guru Maharaj Ji's nearby ashram ("spiritual sollege.") This seemed like a good opportunity to take a closer look at India's famed spirituality. And if I got lucky, I might even bump into Shirley Maclaine.

That afternoon, we took a taxi to the ashram. My aunt had an event pass, and I didn't. The pass-checkers must have been on break - I walked right in. It quickly became apparent that I was the only one in the ashram without an event pass - a very noticeable floppy disc-size adhesive worn on the chest. My aunt recommended that I cover my chest with my hand. This seemed to work fine, but I felt a little stupid walking round in pledge-of-allegiance position.

We continued through the ashram and came upon the largest assembled group I have ever seen - oceans of Indians sitting cross legged in neat rows on an endless, flat field. On either side of the small stage was a huge color TV and a sound system that would have sufficed for the Voodoo Lounge tour.

Off in the distance I could see guru Maharaj Ji's house. It was a cross between a gingerbread house and Caesar's Palace Casino. It had more lights than the landing strip of the Bombay International Airport. Bob's aunt explained that the Guru spent his most of his time at his Malibu House. She also explained that he pilots his own plane. Maharaj Ji, it seems, is a guru of the '90's.

My aunt and I were escorted to the Westerners section in front of the stage. There were maybe 200 Westerners, and they were all fiddling with radios. I didn't understand until my aunt pulled out her radio and tuned it in to the English-language channel. The event was being translated and broadcast in several languages.

At sunset, after two hours of waiting, Maharaj Ji came out and sat center stage in what appeared to be an airplane seat.

Maharaj Ji had a very soothing style and spoke as you'd expect a guru to speak. But one thing distracted me. He referred to himself in the 3rd person. This was confusing because Maharaj Ji is also his father's name. So I was never sure who he was talking about or if they were the same person prematurely reincarnated.

From what I could understand, the speech was about giving, and on prayer and family values. For a while, I thought I was at India's National Republican convention.

His Extreme Wealthiness sat in his chair nodding approvingly and lovingly at us.

The guru stared at us for 15 minutes without saying a word. It was time to leave.

On the way out, we met a Dutchman. I asked why he had flown all the way to India to see Maharaj Ji. "It's like when someone gives you complex directions and you make a right, then a left, then another left. Suddenly, the guy who gave you the directions appears and tells you you're on the right track. You need that confirmation every so often," he said.

We got in a taxi for New Delhi. The driver turned left, then right, then left, then left again through the narrow and congested roads and returned us safely to the hotel.

It's nice to have a guru behind the wheel.

These Best of Vagabond columns report highlights of Doug Lansky's trips around the globe.