What is a humble fortnightly columnist to do when there is so much happening in our ancient, wondrous land? How does he choose which miracle to write about?
Should it be about the poetic justice meted out to Priyanka Chopra, in the form of her Hollywood project being postponed, for her betrayal of Bhai jaan and Bharat ? Should it be about Mrs Funnybones’ new book, Pyjamas are Forgiving – a title I find offensive because its import is chaddis (of a certain hue) aren’t?
Or should I write about the two coolest, rockingest gurus, Messrs Sadhguru and Ramdev, taking a divine bike ride through the foothills of the Western Ghats?
No-brainer, right? One Baba would win all by himself. This is a Baba and a Sadhguru on a Ducati Scrambler Desert Sled, dammit.
One man can manufacture noodles, jeans and SIM cards while out-dancing Ranveer Singh without breaking into a sweat. The other man, nay, god, nay, both, can save rivers with SMSes and fill Kangana Ranaut with devotion. Together, what can I say? The world is not enough to die another day because — living daylights! — you only live twice.
Quibblers will quibble. Why weren’t they wearing helmets, they ask. Pah! Why would transmigrating yogis capable of circumnavigating entire planetary systems without bodily leaving their ashram -cum-corporate headquarters need dumb helmets to negotiate earthly terrain on man-made vahanams ?
Let’s concentrate instead on the adorability of their exchanges. And the deep wisdom in the seemingly simple words.
“I was sitting behind like this,” said Baba. “Sadhguru said, ‘Don’t let go with both your hands’. I didn’t listen to him, took my hands off his shoulder, and lost my balance. After that, I didn’t let go of Guru ji . One who holds his Guru tight cannot be shaken by anyone in this world.”
Can’t you see the parallel here? One is the sarathi , the charioteer, the other is his devout passenger. Embedded in that exchange is the deepest wisdom of our ancient epics.
I, too, have followed this advice and am clutching on to my own guru ji , the elusive Swami Bess Beachananda of Schmidt Memorial. That he owes me ₹6,853 (without interest) is immaterial.
The Sadhguru, meanwhile, had to say this about the Baba on Twitter: “An astute but childlike Baba Ramdev whose laughter is infectious. I talk to him in my crippled Hindi with absolute abandon. He tries his uninhibited Hinglish upon me. Jai ho Baba.”
Jai ho , indeed. In fact, in my broken Hindi, I have been going around saying, “ Phoolon ko taaron ka, sabka kehna hai, ek hazaron mein, meri behna hai,” to anyone I meet. I don’t know what it means, but I can say it with abandon.
It is my fervent wish to see more such divine mobile collaborations in the future. How about Yogi Adityanath and Sri Sri? On a tractor? Or Gurmeet Ram Rahim and Asaram Bapu on skateboards. I don’t know why, but they would look good, right? Or Vijay Mallya and Mehul Choksi. On a jet ski. Because jet ski rhymes with Choksi. They don’t even have to enter Indian waters. And a police officer in a helicopter could shower rose petals on these dynamic duos.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books, and edited an anthology.
