Patrick was abused by Sai Baba


Copied from: Avatar of Night from Tal Brooke

Date: 1971

page 325 - 331

A cloak of darkness was beginning to cover the desolate wilderness around the empty Blake cabin. I could hear Surya Das's steps near the front porch. It was late afternoon, 18 June, and I had had a fruitless day sitting alone in the cabin struggling for inspiration, while Surya Das had spent the whole afternoon, presumably, out wandering. I was hungry and I figured we would try to get supper together on the little kerosene stove. But when his form slowly lumbered through the dark porch into the living-room light, I knew instantly upon seeing his face as he hung back his shawl head-dress that there was a surprise indeed, but it had nothing to do with food. That the awesome burden of whatever revelation he had brought might be unbearable. He stood in the doorway, hand on hip, sighing, slightly shaking his head, the anxious depth in his black eyes carrying a look of silent tormented abandon. The kind of look I expect he had when he was a twelve-year-old lad living near Chattanooga, and heard that his parents had decided to divorce. The only word that he could get out of his mouth was a ponderous "Well..., " and I second guessed the rest with a tone of total certainty, "... I'm not going to believe what you're about to tell me."


"It's going to totally blow my mind."


"It's about Sai Baba."

"You guessed it."

My heart was beating furiously, my mind somehow in tune enough to be already arming itself for something fully as obliterating as my mountain-top LSD experience. I literally tried to get into the most optimal physical position to receive the shocking news. I finally sat across him in the center of the room in familiar conference fashion. "Okay, let's hear the whole thing from beginning to end, every detail, don't rush to the crux of the thing without leading up to it."

"You know the tea-house in Whitefield, the one where a lot of the Anglo-Indian guys hang out?"

"Never been in there, but go ahead."

"Well, I went in there for some tea and ran into some of the guys whom I've talked to a number of times. I joined them, and we soon got on the subject of spiritual things. Well, they were sort of half interested. Then I got on the subject of Baba. They wouldn't say anything. I kept pressing it and they kept quiet. Finally Raymond and I went for a walk near the Carrolls. I kept pressing him. He was very quiet. I knew he had something to say, so I got his complete confidence. He asked me to tell nobody, to swear to keep this a secret that what he was about to tell me only two other guys knew, that not even his friends in the tea-house knew it, and furthermore, he was under an oath to his best friend, Patrick, not to tell a soul. He said he had a sudden feeling of responsibility for my soul, and that was why he was taking the chance, despite his legitimate fear of Baba's supernatural powers. That unprotected, he or his family might get destroyed, that there have been instances before of local people really being under a curse."

"Right, I know what you mean. Phil once dug up some unpleasant stuff among the local villagers of Puttaparthi regarding the original source of Baba's occult power. Something about an ancient lingam on a hill. But I didn't want to hear about it because there was no way to substantiate it, plus the obvious thing that it was probably a demonic ploy."

"Yup, well anyway, Raymond described to me how about two years ago, a few months before you met Baba, Patrick... You know the one, the real good-looking Anglo-Indian with long hair and the sensual look. Yeah, the really good-looking, well-built guy who hangs around Whitefield... Okay, well Patrick went to Brindavan one day, and sat amongst a whole crew of American; who were just passing through town for a few weeks. Well, Baba thought that Patrick was one of the freaks from the States you know, because of his long hair and light skin. So he invited Patrick in for all the interviews he gave to the Americans?

"Uh-huh," I responded with a slow deliberate sigh.

"Well, one day after one of those interviews, Baba kept him over for a private interview."

I was going to keep silent for now for the only two people who knew about my own private interviews with Baba were Wendel and Phil, Prema's husband, because they had confided their similar experiences to mine.

"Well," Surya Das said slowly shaking his head, "...Aw man You're not going to believe this. But I'm gonna have to tell you anyway. At any rate, Baba treated him like he does you, you know, all the special attention beside the chair, addressing things only to him, smiling a lot. When all the others left and Baba got him alone, he did his usual number of materializing things and telling him his inner secrets, though I don't know why the devil he didn't know that Patrick just lived down the road. Well, the next thing that happened was that in one smooth motion, Baba reached down and unzipped Patrick's fly, and pulled his tool out." Surya Das stopped far a long pause to let this one fully drop on me. Then looked up as though to say, "Okay, are you ready for this next one?"

"Well, when he worked Patrick up... Man I don't know why the guy just stood there and put up with this crap. In fact when I asked Raymond, all he said was that Patrick was only about seventeen, horny, perhaps a little naive, and I guess didn't give a blue jay what the other partner was. Maybe he was curious or just wanted to see that whole weird thing through, or maybe the kid's a bisexual. Though Raymond told me that Patrick is only interested in girls, and just may have had some what-ya-call liberal curiosity. How the hell should I know? But at any rate he worked up a bone alright, and the next thing that happened is really gonna blow your mind. Baba lifted his robe and inserted the thing. That’s right. Maybe he’s got a woman’s organ and a man’s organ down there. Yeah, a hermaphrodite. But he honestly inserted it. Patrick said it felt just like a woman."

I was chilled to the marrow, and really did not want to believe what I was hearing. The problem was that till then, I knew it was true. No finally it had gone too far. "Listen, if Baba had been a hermaphrodite, it would have gotten out all over the neighbourhood. All Indian kids run around naked till they’re five."

"I know, but maybe Baba’s mom protected him or hid him, or hell, "it," yeah, that’s, right, "it," Maybe she was really careful with it. Or some of those people, what ya call neuters, can be latent for years, and only develop a labia after puberty. I don’t know all the physiology. Besides, with all his supernatural powers, he’s got a sort of weird body anyway. Maybe the guy just transmutes, you know, shift his protoplasm around at will. At any rate, Raymond told me that just at the moment before Patrick was through, Baba pulled him out and collected his semen in a little white handkerchief.."

"This is really too much," I remarked grimly, “Do you think it’s some kind of a lie or hoax?" .

"I wish to hell it was, but I get a total feeling that it’s true. The guy just was not lying. It was not a come-on. He was dead serious and scared. He was sticking his neck out. I know people and this guy was telling the truth. At any rate, let me continue. Baba collected the stuff, and then told him that the whole world lay in the palm of his hand, and that anything Patrick wanted, he could have. That Baba was planning a special position for him, like Raja Reddy. That Patrick could move in and live there, and be with Baba to spread his mission throughout the world. Suddenly Patrick didn't give a hoot. He may have even laughed and told Baba that he was from just down the road, and that he wasn't even an American. At any rate he stopped going and that was it."

"Okay," I announced despondently, "are you ready for this one?"

"l guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. After this I could hear just about anything and it couldn't be any more shocking."

"By the way, before I go into this, I should tell you that among the guys whom Baba has already "purified,” by pulling out the lingam, are: Wendel, Phil... Yeah, I know he's married but one day Phil confided this to me. And that's not all. There was the disciple of Yogi bhajan , there was also "Alpine Schwartz," the tall dude with he blue ski cap. Yeah, he told Wendel one day at the Whitefield ice-cream stand how Baba materialized a japa-mala for him; in a private interview, and how it had a white bug crawling around on it. Then Baba pulled his drawers down, hand-led it for a minute presumably to cleanse it of "heat." That's not all. There was also a guy who only passed through for a few days, and by the way, that's why. One day Wendel and I were at the Chinese restaurant off Brigade Road, and right at the table next to us, were Gordon, the jewel-cutter from L.A., and this guy from U.C.L.A. who I thought was blaspheming Baba. He was talking at full pitch describing to them how Baba was a "homo," how Baba got him in for one of those private interviews and pulled his fly down, and started to go to town. He said it scared the hell out of him, and he practically ran out from the place with his fly down. Baba chased him to the door calling him panic-stricken as the kid just left. Wendel and I just thought the guy wasn't matured enough to handle or transcend his own negative projections and cultural hang-ups. But then you've got to ask yourself, if Baba's omniscient, why does he pick people who're going to misinterpret it and blow the whistle on him?" I let this data sink in on him and continued, "But that's not all, there's one little card that I've been holding back on you till now. I myself am the main one of all of them. That's right, Surya Das, Baba has done it to me, and up till now, I have pretty much sworn the whole thing to secrecy, believing fully that it was form of tantric purification, or if nothing else, a test, of allegiance? I described my final gruesome encounter with Baba during that fateful private interview in Whitefield which has been alluded to but which the reader does not know about in detail. We will let the matter rest here, with my only statement being that unlike Patrick, I did not respond. In fact I tried to keep my mind on the "clear light" assuming that I was being schooled on the unimportance and ephemeral irrelevance of the physical aspect. Baba never again approached me.

Surya Das, like me, was in a shock. We got up and started making tea while wandering around in a daze.


page 334 - 335

The next afternoon Patrick and Raymond did come. Very sobered, less flippant then usual, his account virtually word-for-word followed what Surya Das had told me the fateful eve before. When I told them all my story, they weren't surprised, and all that there was left for me to do was pace amongst them as they stared up from the floor, while I aired my thoughts. "Your account can't be contrived because if there's nothing else I know, one thing I do know, and that is that I have personally stood alone before Sai Baba with my pants down to my knees." All of us would depart, sworn to mutual secrecy till more data came in. Patrick would urge me to remain quiet, perhaps to protect his family, at least from disgrace, at the same time understanding my relentless quest for the truth at any cost.