Part III of Mind parasites
In the Shadow of Snow-Capped Peaks Where the Alaknanda whispers ancient secrets and mist veils the sacred heights, the Ashram stands as a quiet sentinel. Bopa Rai had become a cherished guest here. He occasionally brought visitors eager to hear the Siddh Purush and his vani. Word had spread that ever since the once-taciturn, hard-drinking Hari Om became a siddha, Goddess Saraswati had taken residence on his tongue. In the Joshimath Cantonment, Bopa gained influence through his closeness to Baba. Now nearing retirement at fifty-six, he found himself drawn to the Ashram’s disciplined rhythms. His visits to Hari Om and Sharda revived the easy camaraderie of their earlier days, leaving him to marvel at how life had brought them full circle. (148 words)
Whispers Over Blended Spirits Beneath the Himalayan stars, where firelight dances on old friendships, three souls gather in quiet ritual. Three times a week, Hari Om, Bopa, and Sharda shared a drink—Blenders Pride remained a quiet constant. One evening, Bopa asked the question that had long lingered: “Are you holy, clairvoyant, or special in some way?” Hari Om shook his head firmly. “No,” he said. “I am only disciplined and kind.” Privately, he viewed many followers as deluded. He spoke in simple anecdotes, often laced with Sainik Sammelan bluntness, yet people hung on his words with unnatural hunger. The isolation of Badrinath had loosened his tongue—he could speak freely without acrimony—but he remained convinced his followers routinely misrepresented him. (152 words)
The Humble Heart of the Haven Beyond the gloss of reverence lies the plain truth of labor and care. Hari Om cited an example: a book one devotee published, claiming profound exposition of his teachings. “It’s nothing but an ostentatious pamphlet,” he remarked dryly, “designed to eulogize me and attract more followers.” What he had built was a functioning community. People lived in discipline yet with genuine comfort. The Ashram generated substantial revenue; his needs were met, Sharda was treated as an honoured staff member, and everyone was compensated generously. “I am committed to running this system as long as I am able,” he said, glancing at Sharda with quiet affection. (149 words)
Rhythms of Resolve in Solitude In the cradle of silence, where discipline blooms like alpine flowers, the Ashram offers its true gift. At its heart, it was about discipline. Some craved structure and paid premium rates for luxurious cottages. Others sought a warm refuge and framework for their personal sadhana—whatever it meant to each. Daily discipline was the only requirement. Those irritated by it usually left. More often, they stayed, becoming organizers or bringing substantial donations. Everyone understood that maintaining an Ashram was expensive. Yet where else could one find such shelter? Here, in this remote Himalayan jungle, residents enjoyed the luxury—and caprice—of solitude. Creativity flourished: painting, writing books, producing YouTube videos spreading the Ashram’s message. Activities multiplied beyond counting or supervision. (151 words)
The Weight of the Gaddi Like a river carving its own bed, power gathers and flows around one man’s quiet presence. Over time, the place had become the center of their orbit—an artificial father figure. Anyone could leave at any time. “Are there aspirants for your position?” Bopa asked. “Anyone eyeing this gaddi, ready to topple you or force your retirement?” Hari Om laughed. “In any dispute, my word remains final—that much is accepted. But yes, there are many who are dominant and hungry to rule. Sitting on the gaddi is no easy task. Delivering Sainik Sammelan-style discourses three times a week is exhausting.” He paused, then added wryly, “The field is open. I would happily retire to a quiet bungalow as a ‘super saint’ who neither speaks nor preaches. This world has accreted around me. It will erode in time, too.” (150 words)
Echoes of Wisdom Across Valleys From ancient verses to timeless tales, knowledge flows like mountain streams to nourish the gathered souls. A special group of adepts mined scriptures—the Gita, Vedas—and secular wisdom from Aesop, Panchatantra, and Mulla Nasruddin—to illustrate points in Hari Om’s sermons. Their work was considered superior, and promising members could be elevated to their ranks. The Ashram expanded beyond Badrinath’s harsh climes to more hospitable places: Bengaluru and Jodhpur. During cold months, Hari Om Swamy traveled to these centers. Now nearing seventy, he had grown enfeebled, the toll of lifelong discipline visible in his frame. (148 words)
The Turning of Seasons and Succession When the guru’s shadow lengthens, the question of legacy rises like dawn mist. Succession became inevitable. Bopa Rai declined the role outright. Asha accepted the possibility, as did Radhey Shyam and M. Chidambaram. Sudhir, another contender, noted that Badrinath’s head priests had traditionally come from Kerala—and he hailed from there. The aspirants began subtle campaigns. In the end, all leading adepts were capable: wealthy, eloquent, and unlikely to cause major friction. To resolve the matter impartially, Hari Om consulted the head priest of Badrinath. The priest proposed an astrological contest combined with a rigorous physical trial. (149 words)
Trials of Ice and Hunger, Path to Renewal Through freezing waters and empty days, ambition is tempered into humility. The four finalists underwent daily cold-water baths in the Alaknanda and fasting on alternate days. Two faltered. Only Asha and Sudhir endured. They were sent to seek blessings from the head priest. The ordeal of cold and hunger had subdued their ambition, leaving them receptive and humble. The priest’s counsel proved decisive. Ultimately, Hari Om chose a path of continuity and renewal. Asha, along with Hari Om, Sharda, and Bopa, relocated to Bengaluru to establish a university under the Ashram’s auspices. The move offered an edifying change of pace and purpose. Backed by the institution’s resources, they adapted swiftly—soon donning Bengaluru-style attire and blending into the bustling metropolis.