Mooi, Me, and Tibet

Yesterday Guru Mooi sent a text (SMS) to find out if I was "settled" on our trip to Tibet in December.

My cell beeped in-between moments of extreme frustration and anger.

It was a usual day at salary hell.


Guru Mooi in Puttaparthi

Why the f*ck do we need to go to Tibet in winter I thought?  I don't need anymore stress and religions in my life. 

I am still trying to get over the 2007 southern India trip to Puttaparthi where Sai Baba preaches to those (including the spiritual ho to your right) who believe he is god.

(See the narrative Mooi wrote about our experience with religions and gods in India here)

Surely he can't be a Buddhist now?  Or maybe he can.  The man changes and mixes religions like nothing I have ever encountered or will ever encounter again.

I ignored the Guru's text.

On my drive home from salary hell I was still cussing at the African National Congress for allowing white people to get away with apartheid when my steaming eyes fell on a newspaper poster with the following headline:

"Sai Baba has a Pacemaker Fitted"

Huh?

How the hell can god get a pacemaker?  Should god not be above a damn pacemaker, or even being sick?  (See the story covered in The Times of India)

Now I needed to text the all-knowing Guru.  You know?  Catch his ass out with a question he will surely fail to answer.

I knew I had the f*cker cornered.  Four years of pent up anger about a lost week spent in Puttaparthi when I could have been laying on a beach in Kerala or Goa with the hunnies.

I whipped out my Nokia and sent the Guru a text:

"Did you hear that god needed a pacemaker?  How can that be?"

He replied in a split second:

"The body is the clothes of the soul and the soul is the spirit."

 Huh?

Did this fool just throw some new age religion at me like that Tantric yoga white woman I used to know in Baltimore who told me that her spirituality centered her sexuality?  Whatever!  

I replied in a split hour:

"Ummm tell god to get us some cheap tickets to Tibet and you lay off the damn spirits."

So, I guess I am going to Tibet in December.  My inner being which is not clothed or even spiritual tells me to give the Guru the pious middle finger and head to Thailand instead.

In Thailand there are clothes and spirits and gods and beaches and massages ... but no damn Coronation-born coloured Gurus who can't just stick to the religion they mama gave 'em.

I expect that there will be other stuff to do in Tibet but a lot of time will be about the Guru imposing his meditation cycle or menstrual cycle or mystical cycle or offering some sh*t about helping me release my anger and finding my zen and letting go of my past demons through Reiki and levitation or Leviticus.

And we will surely miss out on "damsels" and other forms of the better half who may want to hear about that time when I could bench press a pickup and the other time when I rode my motorcycle across the US to the dry levee where I found a white boy in a Chevy talking about Buddy Holly and singing:

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so
And do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow

Bye Bye Ms American Pie ...

It is times like this when I wonder if Mooi is really as centered and happy as he appears.  All that meditation and shaving his f*cking head can't be meaningful, can it?

I wonder too if Sai Baba is feeling better.  I mean if he is god can't he just take over another body?  Preferably a babe magnate ... huh?

I feel another text coming on.  I'll straighten this sh*t out before we freeze our asses off in Tibet.

Yeah it is Friday ... Jummua Mubarak!

Onward!