I went there, and as I had expected he was not there. But I don’t care about anything; I started the camp – and it was his camp! He was not there, he was just trying to avoid me as much as he could. Somebody must have told him because he was staying in the hotel just nearby. He must have heard what I was saying from his room. I started hitting him hard, because when I saw that he was not there, I could hit him as much as I wanted to, and enjoy doing it. Perhaps I hit him too hard and he could not stay away. He came out giggling.
I said, “Stop giggling! That is okay on American television, it won’t do here with me!” And his smile disappeared. I have never seen such anger. It was as if that giggling was a curtain, hiding behind it all that was not supposed to be there.
Naturally it was too much for him, and he said, “I have other things to do, please excuse me.”
I said, “There is no need. As far as I am concerned you never came here. You came for the wrong reasons, and I don’t come into it at all. But remember, I have got plenty of time.”
Then I really hit him because I knew he had gone back into his hotel room. I could even see his face watching from the window. I even told his people: “Look! This man says he has much work to do. Is this his work? Watching somebody else work from his window. He should at least hide himself, just as he hides behind his giggle.”
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi is the most cunning of all the so-called spiritual gurus. But cunningness succeeds; nothing succeeds like cunningness. If you fail, it simply means you have come across somebody who is more cunning than you – but cunningness still succeeds. He never mentions his village, but I remembered because I was going to tell you about an incident. This incident had some concern with his village, and my story is always going in all directions.
Cheechli was a small state. It was not part of the British Raj. It was a very small state, but the king, after all, was a king even though he could only afford one elephant. That’s how they used to measure how much kingliness you had, by the number of elephants you owned.
Now, I have told you about the Elephant Gate that stood in front of the school. One day, for no reason, I approached the maharaja of Cheechli and asked, “I would like to have your elephant for just one hour.”
He said, “What! What will you do with my elephant?”
I said, “I don’t want your elephant, I only want to make the gate feel good. You must have seen that gate, perhaps you even studied there yourself?”
He said, “Yes. In my day it was the only primary school; now there are four.”
I said, “I want to make that gate feel good, at least once. It is called the ‘Elephant Gate’ but not even a donkey ever passes through it.”
He said, “You are a strange boy, but I like the idea.”
His secretary said, “What do you mean, you like the idea? He is crazy.”
I said, “You are both right, but crazy or not, I have come to ask for your elephant for just one hour. I want to ride it into the school.”
He liked the idea so much he said, “You ride on the elephant, and I will follow in my old Ford.”