A Swami by any name

There comes a time in every man’s life when he contemplates a career change. I believe that time has arrived in my life. 

Last week, as I sat down to take stock of my achievements as a journalist, I was struck by the fact that there weren’t any. I hadn’t done any earth-shattering piece of investigative journalism. No TV channel has ever invited me to pontificate on the Kashmir issue.

Nor has any party offered me a Rajya Sabha nomination or a crore. All these failures would have been bearable if I’d at least had an affair or two with attractive colleagues. But I do not have even the paltry consolation of an office romance.

The writing on the wall was blowing in the wind: I needed a career change.

But if I gave up my career in the media, what should I do with my life? The answer came to me at a meeting where I had dozed off and dreamt that I was watching Aastha channel.

My real calling in life, said the guruji who came on Aastha channel in my dream, was to serve humanity by becoming a spiritual guru. I don’t know how he addressed me specifically when he was on TV, but it was a dream, after all, and the point is he had spoken to me.

When I woke up, I gave it some thought. And sure enough, I realised I should have become a guru a long time ago. If only my career counsellor in school had suggested it.

What does a person need to become a spiritual guru? Three things.

The first requirement is a beard, though some follicularly challenged gurus manage without one. And growing a beard is one area of human endeavour in which I’ve excelled all my life, except, of course, when I was a baby — it would have embarrassed my parents had I sported a beard when no other baby had a beard.

But today, I can go from a Keanu Reeves to a Karl Marx in 24 hours flat, and what better way to put this genetic gift to use than as a Swamiji.

The second requirement is the ability to give gyan. I’ve been giving gyan all my life. I began in school, suggesting gently to teachers that exams are nothing but a manifestation of maya, and so students should be allowed to copy if it makes them happy. For this, I got a slap.

Displaying wisdom beyond my years, I turned the other cheek, and received an equal and opposite slap in the other direction. Nobody told me then that even Jesus was crucified for saying something similar, or I would have found my true vocation in life much earlier.

In college, I saved the souls of frustrated Romeos by reminding them that the beauty of the female form is a transient phenomenon.

Even Aishwarya Rai, I explained, was nothing more than a particular aggregation of fat and bone tissue that will develop wrinkles, decay, and survive on Botox before returning to dust. I’m told that I single-handedly averted at least three certain love-related suicides by sharing my unique understanding of life among less enlightened individuals.

Today, I offer free gyan to colleagues on how to attain self-realisation and bliss by dedicating all their waking hours to their employer. Giving gyan, clearly, is my biggest strength.

The third requirement, dear reader, is where you come in: marketing. To market myself successfully, I need a great name.

A quick survey revealed that there were two basic building blocks that go into the brand name of an Indian spiritual guru: the prefix ‘Sri’ and the suffix ‘ananda’. According to this formula, the most basic name would be ‘Sri Ananda’. But I googled it and found that it was already taken. Sri Sri Ananda was taken too. And believe it or not, so were Sri Anandananda and Sri Sri Anandananda. 

Then a friend suggested I must use words that convey a sense of power if I wanted a potent, memorable name. After consulting my colleagues in marketing, I came up with two options.

The first one is Super Sri Mahalingamananda. The ‘Super’ is to distinguish my ‘Sri’ from all the ordinary ‘Sri’s that routinely get appended to the names of other gurus. It will communicate to the target audience that I am not the average Swamiji but a Super Swamiji.

The ‘maha’ is a direct execution of the ‘think big’ brief. In the Hindu tradition, the most potent symbol is that of the lingam or the phallus. Join ‘maha’ and ‘lingam’ and you get a combination that can beat the shit out of every other Swamiji name. I was amazed that in all these years no other male Swamiji had thought of calling himself Super Sri Mahalingamananda.

The second option, a slight variation of ‘Super Sri Mahalingamananda’, was suggested to me by a friend who works in a teleshopping channel. He tells me that in this age of copy cats, people need to get the message that I can give them all the gyan my rivals can offer, and then some extra gyan. So he says I should further nuance my name, to ‘Super Sri Ultra Guru Swami Mahalingamananda Baba Plus Plus’.

Now what you do is write to me at the email given below and tell me which one you prefer: the simple and straightforward Super Sri Mahalingamananda, or the more sophisticated Super Sri Ultra Guru Swami Mahalingamananda Baba Plus Plus.

If your choice coincides with that of the majority, you can sign up as my disciple without paying the registration fee. What’s more, you also win a free stay of three nights and four days at my ashram in California once it is built. This is an inaugural offer valid for 14 days only.

In the meantime, while I sort out my brand name and marketing strategy, I offer you my Blessings Tantrixx VXI,  a powerful aid to  enlightenment, prosperity, and improved performance in bed.