This narrative template — a detailed personal biography followed by the spiritual leader’s current following — recurs through the rest of the chapters. Though it is possible to read through without being bored, the structure does become repetitive. I comb the pages for a new anecdote, a new dimension to the already-known and find it only in some chapters.
For example, Ramdev’s story is largely familiar to those who have followed his meteoric rise to becoming India’s foremost yoga guru through Astha TV, besides, of course, the story of Patanjali. His political clout is palpable to anyone who even superficially followed the events of the International Day of Yoga. Patanjali’s production units in and near Haridwar are a lesson in how a “simple” yoga guru can also be a shrewd businessman and use the trope of Hindu nationalism to catapult himself to commercial success.
Similarly, Jaggi Vasudev, Ravi Shankar and Amritanandamayi are well-positioned in the universe of conferences and seminars on world peace and other such abstract concepts. The strongest stories from the book belong to the personal histories of these New-Age babas, their unremarkable childhood and youth, which instantly becomes laced with early signs of greatness when they make their way into commissioned biographies. To Kang’s credit, she squarely distances herself from these miracle-laden claims.
The profile of Morari Bapu remains completely out of the universe of miracles. The story-teller, although also a guru to influential Gujarati families such as the Ambanis, makes no tall claims to higher spiritual awareness. His tale is that of a folk artist who found a way to connect to his audience with a mesmerising rendition of the Ramayana and built his fame purely on the foundation of that skill.
The star of the book, though, is Brahmachari, former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s personal yoga teacher, who, as a result, was astonishingly at home in the corridors of power. The stories about his proximity to the Gandhi household and his influence over family decisions make for a racy read. The most colourful of all chapters is minutely detailed with Brahmachari’s access to the brass in the Indian government and his power to alter administrative decisions in his favour. One sees Gandhi not as the fierce leader who imposed the Emergency, but as a petulant young woman seemingly besotted with her yoga guru.
Kang has certainly covered a fairly long list of the Who’s Who of this supposedly saintly universe. Inevitably, perhaps, in a poor country where the “godman” enterprise flourishes, there will be omissions from the list of stars, and many readers will have their particular grouse. The omission I would point to is a chapter on the “Guruji”, so prominently written on cars in the cult’s archetypal comic sans font; the following in his temple in Delhi’s Chhattarpur boggles the mind. Simply known as Guruji Maharaj, he is no longer alive but is known for his “healing powers” and ability to take one to his or her “destiny”.
For a sceptic like me, certain bizarre comments from people Kang quotes and incidents from the babas’ lives make for a good chuckle. For example, Vasudev’s moment of enlightenment on a mountaintop when he felt an “indescribable unity with the universe” strangely resembles what William Wordsworth calls the sublime. And yet, one became a poet and the other claimed that it gave him an insight into life, a “raw pulsating mass of energy”.