21.1

“Send him in.”

The President was amazed how emaciated he looked when Dirk Watts appeared. Three weeks ago when he left for India, he’d been tanned, lean and healthy. Now he was wizened, thin and…

“Dirk – you look shocking!”

Dirk Watts laughed it off.

“I had to look authentic, sir.”

The President immediately relaxed with Dirk Watts, after all, Dirk Watts was the top performer in his team.

“So – what’s happening over there?”

A deep, sun-burnt smile lit up Dirk Watt’s face.

“Plenty,” he said.

“Take it I’ve read everything you sent me.”

“Well, Max has definitely renounced. He’s out there.”

“Are you surprised by that?” the President asked, gazing out the window. “Frankly, I never thought he’d do it. I’m very surprised,” he added quietly.

Dirk Watts shrugged nonchalantly –

“Surprised? No, not really. I mean… he was either going to do it or go home. He was never going to be in limbo for long, that’s for sure. It was a desperate scene. He was living the life of a beggar – but he had money. It was… extraordinary.”

“Mmm.”

“I’ve written a list for you,” Dirk Watts said, handing the President a file. “It’s very personal – it may help.”

The President scanned the notes.

“Tell me – these sadhus. Are they only Hindus?”

“They’re outside formal, organized religion.”

“Are there Muslim sadhus?”

“Religion is one of the things they renounce.”

“So… where does that leave them?”