Opposites Attract

Confessions Of A Celibate Sadhu

Every Sunday, Ma would take me to visit Chacha’s ashram. He had sacrificed his family and my overbearing father to find the road to salvation. Shiva was his god of choice, my mother told me when I was seven. He would wake up in the middle of the night and smear himself in ash and then dance around the house in a loincloth. But whenever I saw him on Sundays, he would look more like Krishna. His women devotees would stare at him longingly, and hang on to his every word. God is a good profession, I told myself. So when I was 17, I decided to walk in his footsteps, enter the family business. I went to Chacha for tips but he just said—good happens to the good. I started climbing up the nirvana ladder from the bottom. Then one day I painted my forehead with sandalwood paste and told the people that faith is all about believing that you will get all that you need. Now I have my own ashram and 26 devotees, of which 10 are women. They like singing and dancing. I sometimes join them and it’s good fun. My latest one-liner—In His eyes, there is no good and evil—has become quite popular. I want my own TV show, where I can remind the world that good only ever happens to those who wait and stay celibate.