The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing by Tarquin Hall

Author:Tarquin Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: India
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Facecream didn’t wake until long after it was light. She guessed it must have been around nine. Feeling groggy and dull-headed, she lay on the bedroll in the dormitory where she was staying and went over the bizarre events of yesterday in her mind.

She remembered entering the darshan hall along with Puri and Mrs. Duggal and being served a cup of papaya juice by one of the senior devotees. It seemed to her that he had handed her one from the back of the tray, whereas the others had chosen their own.

She’d sat down in front of the stage and Maharaj Swami had entered and been hailed by his adoring followers.

It had been about then that Facecream had started to feel woozy.

At first she’d put it down to all the incense smoke and the heat and noise. But soon her legs had started to feel heavy and her senses had become strangely heightened. The background din of devotional singing and chanting had faded and Maharaj Swami’s words had boomed in her ears. One minute she’d felt chilled to the bone; the next, the temperature in the darshan hall had seemed unbearably hot.

Everything around her with bright colors – the canary yellow kurta of the woman in front of her, the saffron banners hanging on either side of the stage – had started to bleed and pulsate.

She’d realized with alarm that the papaya juice had been laced with some form of hallucinogen. But her fear had quickly given way to a pleasant weightlessness, a sense of blissful detachment. She’d imagined herself six years old again, playing in the front room of her grandfather’s big house in Kathmandu with her old Kumari doll.

Up on the stage, the circle of lights behind Maharaj Swami’s head had begun to spin around faster and faster, until they seemed almost liquid. She’d felt suddenly overcome with emotion, unable to control the tears that had streamed down her face or the impulse to laugh out loud.

But gradually the effects of the hallucinogen had started to wear off. And as Facecream had regained control of her faculties, she’d had the presence of mind to turn events to her advantage.

Her dramatic exclamations and subsequent fainting had fooled even Puri, who had given her a couple of stinging slaps and called for a glass of water.

A crowd had gathered, straining, peering, and then Facecream had started babbling excitedly about how ‘a kind of awesome celestial light’ had ‘like, flooded out of Swami-ji’ and filled her with ‘such warmth and belonging’.

“I could feel this energy pulsing through me. It was like I was actually part of the cosmos.”

Maharaj Swami had invited her up onstage, where he had ‘interpreted’ her vision for his congregation.

“Queenie has been given a taste of the Universal Nectar,” he’d announced. “Through this experience she will come to understand her true potential and comprehend the ultimate reality. Her purpose, like all of your purposes, is to achieve moshka, unity with God.

“God is like the ocean,” he’d continued. “But like raindrops taken up by clouds, you have become separated from Him.

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