Archive for dementia

Guru Baby

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , on May 17, 2012 by javedbabar

The visitor waited in line, and when his turn came said, “Excuse me, is Guru Baba here today? We’re visiting from the East Coast and would love to see him.”

Sami said, “I’m sorry Sir, but he is busy with official business today.”

The visitor turned to look at her husband, who curled his lips. She turned back to Sami and said, “But the flag is up at the Transparent Temple.” This was the popular name for their fancy community centre. “Doesn’t that mean he is here?”

Sami hated disappointing people. They came so far to glimpse Guru Baba, one of the world’s leading holy men, who had made his home in Lucerne. He’d wanted to retire to “that nice village with the white mountain above it,” and since then there had been a procession of world leaders coming to see him, and behind them came the masses.

Sami said to the visitor, “Yes, he is here, but I’m afraid he’s tied up with official duties. Will you still be here next Wednesday when he has his monthly audience?”

“Didn’t there used to be a weekly audience?” Sami nodded. “Well, that’s what we came for, and then found out it had been changed.”

The end of weekly audiences had been a disaster. Donations had fallen by three-quarters but Guru Baba’s expenses continued to rise. His charitable projects, especially Free Giving, had proved very popular and taken on lives of their own. Sami had heard of Peak Oil – the notion that the world’s oil supply was diminishing, but population, and thus demand for oil, rising exponentially. This was Peak Toil; he had to work harder and harder in Guru Baba’s gift shop to meet his sales targets. Visitor numbers were decreasing but project costs were rising. It was entirely unsustainable.

“I’m very sorry,” Sami said to the visitor. “We have some new items that you may like though. How about these I Am Here For You Too dice, with one word on each side? It is Guru Baba’s most popular saying. And we have these I Love Change T-shirts. The logo of the eye in the heart in the triangle was designed by his good friend Mr Giorgio Armani. Yes, he was here at Easter. Did you see the photos? Guru Baba loved the holy robes he bought. We’re thinking of adding them to the product range. Would you be interested in those when available? You can leave us your email address.”

Sami tried his best to cheer up visitors but there was only so much he could do.

The visitor said, “If we can’t meet Guru Baba, can we at least get a signed photo?”

“Let me see,” said Sami. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Sami found Guru Baba in his chambers. For the past few months he had spent much of his time sitting silently or walking around ranting. Today he was walking around ranting. “You were not there for me, why should I be here for you?” he shouted, and, “I hate change!”

Poor guy, thought Sami. One of the world’s wisest, kindest men, reduced to this. Old age was a curse, particularly its gift of dementia.

Sami wondered who would be hurt by his signing the photo instead of Guru Baba. The visitor would be happy and donations would increase. He pulled out the black pen he used for checking off deliveries, and scrawled the world famous initials GB.

The visitor was thrilled. So were people who came the next day, and the day after that. There was a boom in visitors and donations. The charitable projects thrived.

Sami went to Guru Baba every day with photos, and returned with them all signed. One day the old man asked him, “Who signs all my photographs?”

Sami dropped his pen. Guru Baba smiled and said, “I think you understand Karma. It means action.”

Guru Baba

Posted in Mystical Experience, Unknown with tags , , , , , , on April 8, 2012 by javedbabar

Guru Baba didn’t know who these people were. They stood before him expecting something, or maybe he was expecting something from them; it was difficult to say. It always paid to be friendly so he decided to smile. The people seemed pleased when he did this.

They certainly looked fancy, all dressed in robes and wearing elaborate hats. The one in red pressed his palms together, the one in white made finger shapes in the air, and the one in black rocked back and forth. They were still waiting for something. Guru Baba raised his right hand, and their motions stopped immediately, then they all looked lost.

The one in red had a bald head. He looked at the other two for permission and stepped forward, and said in a sort of Indian accent, “Guru Baba, it is a great pleasure to see you again. The last occasion was not a happy situation. My people couldn’t take more oppression and had risen up spontaneously. The crackdown was brutal, but your involvement transformed the situation completely. The Chinese government saw their errors, and granted our autonomy. When my time comes, I can now expire with satisfaction. My life’s work is done. On behalf of Tibetans, our Chinese brothers, and peace-loving sentient beings everywhere, I thank you.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. Guru Baba wondered what he was crying about, and also what he was talking about.

The one in white wore a tall pointy hat. He now stepped forward. Guru Baba admired his bejewelled staff. He would like one like that. Maybe the one in white would let him hold it for a while, but before he could ask him, he said, “Guru Baba, I have much to thank you for. When I became the Vicar of Christ, the Church was in a fractured state. Contentious issues such as abortion, homosexuality, women priests, and paedophile priests, were ripping our holy community apart. But your intra-faith work was invaluable. Your universal principles of belief became the glue that held together our altar of faith. The holy brethren of the Church Universal honour your noble person.” Guru Baba nodded and smiled at this glamorous man. Should he ask now to borrow his stick?

The one in black stepped forward. Guru Baba liked his beard. It was long and black and curly. He also liked his wide-brimmed hat that seemed like a furry flying saucer, and his accent that went “khh”. He said, “Guru Baba, my people were exiled from the Holy Land for a hundred generations. Some of our faithful returned but didn’t find peace there. And the last few years have been especially painful for us and for our Palestinian brothers. There are few excuses for both our and their inhumanity. Thank you for bringing us together at last – for bringing peace to our homes.” Guru Baba liked this man speaking with “khh”. He wondered where this Holy Land was. He would like to visit it.

The ones in red, white, and black repeated their earlier motions – pressing palms, making finger shapes, and rocking back and forth – and stepped back slowly. Guru Baba wondered if they were going home now. And if so, would they come back tomorrow?

Three men in blue suits replaced them. Why were they all wearing the same colour, he wondered? The first one stepped forward and held out his hand. Guru Baba held out his hand too, which the first man in blue shook gently, and said, “Guru Baba, you have brought us great honour by making this land your home. We were a vast nation in terms of land area, but under populated. Our larger neighbour was always more powerful, and the chaos they fell into was disastrous for the world. Thank you for suggesting this brave solution. I was not sure that my government was ready to serve an additional 300 million people, but the United States of Canadia is now the world’s most stable and affluent nation. That’s why I have come to Lucerne today, to relay the appreciation of all of its citizens.” His chatter rung a faint bell. Yes, he remembered coming to this beautiful valley. But when and why he couldn’t say.

The second man in blue suit approached him. He used too many s’s in his wordage, which made it sound like he lisped. What language was he speaking? It was a sort of English. He said, “Guru Baba, as the President of Europe, I thank you for your work in stabilizing our currency. It was vital to our Union, so hard won after murderous great wars.” He carried on like this for a while. The third man in blue suit was a black man. Didn’t he look smart in his suit? He said, “As Chief of the United Nations, I would like to thank you for bringing peace to the world…” and other things.

More people came to see him. There were scientists, musicians, artists, writers, dancers, sportsmen, media and business people, and others. They were all friendly people, but he didn’t recognize any of them. Should he? One of them held a newspaper saying “World in shock: Guru Baba has Dementia and is Dying”. What was dementia? It sounded serious.

Then he saw some people he recognized, but they were far away. Somebody was being mean to them. A tall man in a black suit, with a shaved head and a gun, was shouting at them. These little people – what were they called again, children? He beckoned them over. They were excited but scared. Some were laughing and some were crying. Both were sounds he knew. They were the sounds of the universe announcing itself. Wailing sadness and screaming hope. Comedy and tragedy. These were the people that he had wanted to see, not all of those others. Those men in robes and suits talked a lot but knew nothing. These little ones only laughed and cried, which showed that they understood everything. He stepped down from his throne and kissed their feet. He was pleased to meet these little gods.