The Mystic's Miracle

by Noah Alexander

  "I don't just have a hand in that," said the scientist draining his glass once more, "All this success is purely down to me. Do you think that illiterate Guru, that beggar with his cheap carnival tricks can build this huge organization? It's not his acting that pays for these men. I am the secret sauce, the brain behind the enterprise. And yet, all I ever hear the people talk about is the Guru. The Miraculous Mystic - that is what a newspaper called him the other day. No mention of me, the miraculous chemist and his chemicals which cause the miracles."

  He suddenly realized that he was blabbering in front of half a dozen men.

  "Do you really need an army to hold this man?" the chemist asked Manu who motioned to the men and all but 2 of them remained to hold Ernst while the others departed.

  “I think we should leave as well, Sir,” said Manu, “you shouldn’t be talking all this in front of a stranger.”

  The chemist wasn’t pleased.

  “Now you would tell me what I should or should not do,” he said to Manu, “I have more brainpower than all of you and that Guru combined. I can decide for myself what I need to say.”

  Manu bowed his head low.

  “Now young man,” continued the chemist turning to Ernst, “Let’s continue your story. Tell me, who sent you.”

  Ernst hesitated, “Alas, I cannot tell you that. But if what you say is true then I believe that my master will be a great appreciator of your talents. Monetary and otherwise.”

  “Oh, I don’t want money,” said the chemist, “Who do you think owns this ashram. I share half of the proceeds with the Guru as a charity, the rest is mine.”

  “Pardon me for asking,” said Ernst, “But I still find it hard to believe that you are the one responsible for the success of the Guru. It is the Guru who preaches and produces all those miraculous bananas and those flower garlands and sings songs which compel people to dance.”

  “All that is just a masquerade,” the chemist said, “The Guru is nothing but a small-time magician. All those producing bananas and flowers from thin air are not, as he claims, demonstrations of spiritual powers that he gained in the Himalayas, they are merely tricks. You can see better tricks for a Cowrie at any carnival. If you prod the sleeve of his absurd coat you’ll find it stuffed all the way with bananas. The ceiling of the hall is also a prop that he uses to send magical flowers from heaven upon his devotees. The real reason for the popularity of the Guru and the ashram is not the tricks. The devotees who come to the ashram once, return again and again because of the experience that they have here. And that experience is down to me.”

  “I am sorry,” said Ernst, “but I still don’t understand.”

  “Oh, you are no better than these men,” said the drunk chemist settling down on the table, “I think you need to know the whole story.”

  “I am sorry sir,” Manu broke in, “I don’t think you are in the right state to make a decision on what you should reveal to this stranger.”

  The chemist glared at him, then poured himself some more whiskey.

  “Ignore him,” he said to Ernst, “he thinks the Guru pays him. I run this place. Me and my chemicals. This laboratory is the engine room of the ashram. Do you know what happens if we use the extract of poppy seeds, boil them in a solution of ammonia till the volume is reduced by exactly 37%, then store it in an oxygen-less environment for 3 hours and 45 minutes and then finally stir it till its color becomes light pink?”

  Ernst shook his head, “I don’t think I know.”

  “It becomes wealth. It becomes the foundation of this empire. The process that I mentioned to you was perfected by me over the last 3 years. And this process produces a powerful psychoactive drug, the likes of which have never been seen before. If administered orally to people in doses greater than 3 milligrams and less than 10 milligrams, it has the most remarkable effect. It makes their brain relinquish all control upon themselves. He got up from the table, went to a shelf, and took out a glass beaker filled with a thick pinkish liquid. This is the drug I am talking about. A few drops of it, and I would be able to control the consumer.”

  “Control?”

  “Yes, control,” said the scientist smugly, “Like many other drugs, it sends its consumer in an altered state of consciousness where he has little or no knowledge of the surroundings, but unlike other drugs, if a person consumes this pink substance, he remains receptive to external stimulus. People tend to become very receptive to commands, it is as if your own brain has stopped commanding your system so you will listen to whatever anyone else has to say. And if no one says anything, you will merely follow what others do. If I sit you sit, if I dance you dance. This is the drug that made Guru Ramdas what he is today. The reason why all the devotees you saw outside were crying and dancing was that they had been fed this drug in the bananas and the lassi that they were fed. There are some men in the hall who pretend to be devotees but are actually people from the ashram. At the Guru’s signal, these men stand up and dance, or begin to cry and all those others start to follow them.

  An intelligent plan, you would agree. It was me who came up with that. I wanted to earn money with it and I stumbled upon this guy, who was a small-time magician at the carnivals and we started the ashram together.”

  “What about the meditation room?” Ernst asked, “I see that the people there hallucinate.”

  “You have seen that as well,” said the Chemist smiling, “No wonder Manu is so upset. The people in the meditation rooms are given drugs even more potent, which make them hallucinate. Basically, they see whatever they want to. People attribute it to the spiritual power of the Guru. They are foolish and they want to experience it again and again, and so they return.”

  Ernst seemed to be getting the secret of his hallucinating father, the hysterical dancing men and women in the hall outside, and the line of people on the gate to the ashram. The devotees were all drugged to make them feel liberated and spiritually satiated. What they felt was in reality nothing more than a drug-induced trance. It also explained the popularity of the Guru as well as his father’s sudden interest in spiritualism. Ernst wondered what his mother might say when she came to know that her husband had locked himself up in a room for three days in a drug-fuelled frenzy. This was the same father who had disowned his son for hurting his distinguished family name by not joining his bank.

  Ernst could use this knowledge to drive a hard bargain from his father. But it was imperative first to escape this place alive. While the drunk chemist had been revealing his trade secrets to Ernst, Manu had been eying Ernst with growing disdain.

  He could understand why – not only had he managed to breach the security of the ashram, sneak into one of the private meditation rooms and break into what could safely be called a secret laboratory, but he had also kicked him in the groin. Ernst was certain that this man was not used to being kicked. If he was allowed to have his way, Ernst did not have a prosperous nor long future. For now, the chemist was proving to be his savior but not for long. At the rate that he was drinking and the condition that he was already in, it wasn’t long before he would become senseless. Ernst did not want to imagine what would follow then.

  “So, young man,” said the chemist, now barely able to string words together, “You have heard the story now, who do you think is responsible for the ashram and its success? The brain behind the drug or the cheap trickster.”

  “You of course,” said Ernst without hesitation, “No doubt in my mind, no doubt at all.”

  The chemist smiled and patted him fondly upon his cheek.

  “Could you please, sir,” said Ernst sensing an opportunity, “ask these men to leave me. My neck hurts. I assure you I would leave this ashram and never cause trouble to you or the ashram again.”

  Manu’s eyes widened at his request but the chemist grinned.

  “You are a good man,” he said, “Manu, this young man is a nice fellow. Let him go, will you.”

  “But, sir, he knows our secret now,” Manu protested.

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nbsp; “That is correct, he does,” accepted the chemist, “Now, young man, would you say anything about this to anyone.”

  “No, I would not.”

  “He is lying of course,” said Manu.

  “Are you lying?” asked the Chemist.

  “No, sir I am not. I don’t lie. Ever.”

  The chemist grinned at him, “Such a charming young man. Manu, my mind is made up. Take this man away, he is a liar.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Guru Ramdas's Favorite Devotee

  Back in her muddy clothes, Maya blended perfectly with the long line of ragged, homeless people who had gathered on the gate to Guru Ramdas's ashram to get food and shelter for the night. There were two gates to the ashram, around two hundred yards apart. The smaller queue was for richer people who could afford to pay to get an entry into the ashram. The longer queue, of which Maya was a part, was composed of beggars and homeless people who had no intention of getting salvation and were here only to quench their appetite and rest.

  Maya had taken leave from Natasha and the others in the circus at around 12 in the afternoon and walked straight to the ashram, which was only a few minutes from the circus. In fact, the circus ground and the ashram actually shared a boundary on one side. Maya planned to use that boundary wall to sneak into the circus at night. Though she had evidence of Bill’s financial malpractices, she needed more evidence to prove that he had a hand in Harold’s death. She also had to find more about the person who had given her the account book, as well as the reason why Bill had sneaked out of the circus yesterday. Maya had already talked to Helena about her plan and, she had been glad to help. Maya felt that Bill might go out of the circus again tonight and it was Helena’s job to alert Maya who would be present on the other side of the boundary wall as soon as the clock struck 8. Maya intended to follow Bill and find out what he did with the money that he had siphoned from the circus.

  It took more than two hours for the line that she was a part of, to lumber inside the premises. The people were supposed to drop their footwear, if they had any, near the gate, wash their feet and hands from numerous wooden buckets kept just inside the gate, and then move forward towards the main ashram building. Maya washed her hands and feet and walked to a topless bald man with a white mark upon his forehead, who stood at the door to the building putting a pinch of vermillion upon each of the person’s forehead. The throng then moved inside the building into a huge hall which was divided in two parts. The part of the hall where Maya was, had a dirty mat spread all over the floor while the other side which was barred with the help of an iron fence had chairs stacked in neat rows for the richer devotees. Maya was pushed inside as more and more homeless people crammed into the place.

  It turned out that in order to get food and a cot to sleep, people were supposed to hear Guru Ramdas preach for at least two hours. The Guru himself sat on a throne at the end of the hall on the side of the richer patrons. He was dressed in rich silk clothes and a turban Maya would expect the Maharaja of a princely state to drape. Apparently, the Guru was revered no less than a maharaja, for as soon as he made an appearance on the platform, all the rich man occupying the seats in front of him stood up, their hands folded, and bowed down reverently. A few burly men standing in the midst of the homeless group to keep discipline also prodded them to bow down. Maya would have agreed if she had any space to pull up her hands let alone bend her body forwards. She suspected that a few people here might die of asphyxiation before they managed to get to the food.

  The rich devotees in front settled down and the preaching started. It was no different from what she had heard before. The need for spiritual salvation, the importance of Gods and of praying and praying daily, the need for donation, all figured prominently in the speech. The first hour passed like that with the groans of the homeless people getting louder and louder, along with the passionate cheers of the rich men on the other side, some of whom got so excited that they got up from their seats and began to dance. All this time, the devotees on the other side were being served food and drinks, which made the homeless, who were not treated to any such luxuries, grumble even more.

  Maya, whose legs, still bruised from the beating that she had received a few days earlier, had begun to ache painfully was looking for a way to escape this drudgery when suddenly Guru Ramdas got up from his throne and raised his hands up high. The rich men cheered loudly at the cue apparently expecting something interesting.

  Indeed they were. Guru Ramdas proclaimed that it was time to show them the power of God which had been manifested to a degree in himself. He called a woman from the audience who jumped up in excitement adjusting her dress and hat. He then closed his eyes, read some inaudible incantation, and waved his hands to produce a banana out of thin air. The devotees clapped. The woman clutched the banana as tenderly as if she was holding a child, and moved back to her seat. After some minutes more of showing his miracles, the Guru joined his hands, thanked all the attendees, and disappeared behind his platform.

  The preaching now complete, the homeless around Maya began to fuss. The guards anticipated riot and slowly led the famished crowd down a narrow staircase into another hall which was more than three times the size of the hall that they had just come from. At the door to the hall, a small man handed over packets of food to the homeless who then rushed over to claim the cots which were spread all over the hall. Apparently, they were never enough for the number of homeless people that came to the ashram and many of them had to manage on the floor. Since Maya was not feeling hungry and did not plan on sleeping here either, she gave her packet of food to a small boy and stood in a corner. A large clock hanging in the hall told her it was 7:30 PM, half an hour before her agreed time with Helena. She had to find a way out to the backyard.

  Maya wove her way through the army of homeless who were scrambling hither tither to secure cots and managed to get out of the hall. She squeezed herself past the line of incoming people and finally found herself in the same hall that she had heard the Guru in. Some of the devotees on the other side of the fence still sat on the chairs, while a few more were sitting on the ground, their backs against the wall, sleeping. She crept out of the door and into the front yard. But there was no way on the side of the building to get to the boundary wall touching the circus grounds. Maya would need to find a way from inside the building.

  She trundled back inside the hall and looked around uncertainly. There were too many doors. She took a door farthest south and entered a long ill-lit lobby with doors on either side. At the end of the lobby was a wall, so Maya traced her steps back towards the hall and barged into a large saffron-clad man. He looked at her dress and made a face.

  “Go to that door for food,” he said pointing to the door which led to the hall for the homeless. “Although I think you might be late. They finish with food quite quickly.”

  He looked around the hall, then pushed Maya into the dark lobby again, “If you come with me,” he said grinning insolently, “I can give you more than just food.”

  He reached into his pocket and fished out a two Cowrie note. He ran the note upon Maya’s hand then reached towards her shoulder.

  It was enough. Maya’s first kick into his groin sent the man rolling upon the floor where he writhed like a snake. He tried to crawl away trying not to make too much noise or the other godmen around might know of his sinful deed. But Maya was not done. Somehow she saw the image of Bill in the man, and it was enough for her to lose her temper. She kicked him mercilessly in the stomach and between his legs, then sat down upon him and slapped him till he was half knocked out with pain. It was remarkable how quietly he took his beating. No one around heard them scuffle.

  “Don’t ever try this on any girl,” she hissed

  “I am sorry,” he said, his lips bleeding and swollen, “please don’t tell anyone. Take this 2 Cowrie and if you want food I can give that too and a cot to sleep as well. Just don’t tell anyone.”

  Maya got up from him.

  “
I need to go to the backyard,” she said, “Which door should I take?”

  The man pointed a quivering finger towards the hall. “Take the last door on the left, go straight down that door then take a right at the end then go straight again and left.”

  Maya gave him a parting kick and was on her way. She felt rather fresh and energetic after her brief encounter with the man. The rest of her path to the backyard was uneventful. Once near the boundary wall, Maya quietly tiptoed to a hibiscus bush.

  She hid behind the bush and waited for Helena’s signal.

  But there was something wrong. As Maya sat in silence she could hear whispers.

  “No you must keep patience,” someone was saying.

  Maya slid out of her hiding place and peered in the distance to find two figures huddled close to each other. Even in the dim moonlight, she could recognize the faces.

  One of them was the Guru, easily recognizable in his extravagant outfit. The other face was harder to recognize, but when she did, it gave her the biggest surprise she’d had in a while.

  THIRTY

  The Secret Life of Bill Wilson

  Maya woke up with a start. Someone was licking her feet.

  It was a stray dog, emancipated and bristling with lice. Maya shooed the dog away and stretched herself. She had spent many nights on the streets before, but mostly she spent them on pavements. This was her first time spending a night on a bench, and her body felt stiff. She preferred pavements over benches. Maya stood up and realized suddenly that she was in a delicate situation. She had to be more careful.

  The last evening had proved to be rather fruitful. Around 10 minutes past the end of Guru Ramdas's secret meeting in the backyard, Maya had heard Helena’s low whistle, and crossed over to the other side of the wall. She didn't even have to jump the wall as there already was a hole in the wall, big enough for a grown man to pass and hidden on the side of the circus by a few bougainvillea bushes. Once on the other side, she found Helena jumping animatedly. She had just seen Bill go out of the circus. He was dressed in a black cloak as if he wanted no one to recognize him. Maya had rushed out swiftly enough to catch up with Bill, who was walking purposefully with long swift strides towards his destination. Maya followed him from a safe distance for close to half an hour till they reached Pond Street. It was an impoverished neighborhood with ragged wooden buildings on either side of a narrow unpaved road overflowing with sewage, domestic waste, stray dogs, and drunkards. Bill clutched his coat closer upon his frame, jammed his hand in his coat pocket, and walked into a small grocery shop near the square. He talked to the proprietor for a few minutes, handed him a wad of cash from his pocket, then walked on towards a house a few yards from the shop. Maya got hold of the proprietor as soon as Bill disappeared behind the door.