The Gurus, the Young Man, and Elder Paisios by Dionysios Farasiotis

Author:Dionysios Farasiotis [Farasiotis, Dionysios]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood
Published: 2008-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

Shivaraja

On my second or third day, the yogis told me that there was another Greek man present at the ashram, who could help me adjust to its closed society. Naturally, I was interested in meeting him, but when we became acquainted I learned that the man, whom they called Shivaraja, was in fact an Englishman about thirty-five years of age, who had merely spent five years illegally in Greece, teaching English.

Shivaraja was a married man and a college graduate, who used to have a good job in electronics. However, he was extremely interested in spiritual phenomena, and, after some bizarre spiritual experiences, he abandoned his family and homeland and came to Greece where he became acquainted with Satyananda’s ashram. Although he never joined the Greek branch of the ashram, he did become involved with it and practiced yoga techniques. One day, the director of the ashram told him that they were planning a trip to India and wanted to know if he was interested in participating. He told her how much money he had and that he didn’t know if it was sufficient. In a few days, he was told that it was enough, so he gave her his money and shortly set out with the rest of the group for India. He stayed in Munger with everyone else in the group, but when the day for the return trip arrived, the director told him that he would not be returning to Greece, because his money didn’t cover the cost of a return ticket. He was thus compelled to remain in India.

When I met Shivaraja, a year had already gone by since he had been left behind. He felt horrible about his situation — as though they had deceived him and made him a prisoner. He cursed the Greek director and said that she was a very evil woman. He had never lived outside of the ashram, and he was under the impression that the chances of survival in India were much bleaker than they really were, as I knew full well from my month-long wanderings there. Those in the ashram cultivated such fears. Once, when I requested permission to make a visit to a neighboring city, they told me that it was too dangerous on account of the high crime rate in that region. Ultimately, however, they gave me permission, and I took Shivaraja with me to the Ganges, where he took a bath in spite of his quite apparent revulsion for its muddy gray waters. (He had endless rationalizations for why he did it, with which he was probably trying to convince himself rather than me.)

He was frightened and didn’t dare move from the ashram or oppose its wishes. He told me that he intended to write some friends to send him money for a return ticket, but he didn’t want them to send the money to the ashram because he was afraid they wouldn’t give it to him. I remember asking him, “Why don’t you go tell

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