It was all probably true, but Max didn’t care. He knew, of course he knew that there were all kinds of cults and gurus and a whole host of extraordinary religious notions in India – everyone knew that.

And he had no doubt that many of these cults probably did suck in a few gullible westerners. But he also knew one thing for sure – whatever he did over there was going to be his own doing. No one was going to tell him what to do. No – there would definitely be no guru for him. After all, what kind of novel would that produce?

“Confessions of a guru’s slave,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing really – just joking,” he laughed.
She smiled patronizingly –

“Now, what was that you said about time?”

“Yeah well,” Max said. “I agree – I don’t have time for that.”

“So… why not bi-pass India altogether – India is for losers.”
She paused – looking for agreement – but got nothing. Max would never agree to a comment like that – from anyone.

“Come on Max – come to London – come…”
She held it out there – the smile growing with promise.

“Come and be a winner… with me.”

2.8

“I’ve obviously never contemplated renunciation myself, but I can imagine – it must be a very difficult thing to do. After all, the world is still the world – it’s the only one we have. To renounce it must be an enormous statement, for anybody.”

“Of course – it’s huge.”

“You’ve still got to live in it. I mean, it’s not as if there is any alternative reality. The body must live on.”

“Absolutely.”

“That must be hard – struggling on with nothing.”

“No doubt – for many it must be very difficult.”

“And you?”

“No. I must admit – I found it easy.”

“Why?”

“Because I have all I need.”

“And what is that?”

“Faith.”
The P.M. accepted this, for the moment –

“But you must admit, the prospects for your ordinary young sadhu cannot be good. It’s not quite how it seems. Most of the old sadhus we see around haven’t survived for years like that. Most of them renounced as old men!”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s not as if they live their whole lives out in the street like that.”

“There is a big turnover – no doubt.”

“I fear for the young ones.”
Pierre flashed a telling glance –

“Have no fear for sadhus.”
The P.M. was undeterred.

“Of course I have no reliable statistics, but I am inclined to think that they probably don’t last very long out there.”

“You are wrong about that,” Pierre said firmly.

“Why?”

“You are underestimating your own people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Indians are very kind to sadhus – they love them.”

“Still?”

“Yes – now more than ever.”