wrote him a letter saying that he looked much more
human than divine when he approached women at Centre meetings for
sexual, rather than spiritual reasons."

"And I decided to phone him," recalled Giles. "A member of his staff
said that he was not at home and would call me back. Several days
later at three a.m. the phone rang. It was Rama. We spoke for about
an hour. When I suggested that he consider exercising more discretion,
he was reasonable and polite. We discussed the issue like human
beings. After all, I am old enough to be his father. He told me, 'Of
course I like girls. I'm just an ordinary guy. You don't know what
it's like. They throw themselves at me. What's a healthy man to do?'"

"At the next Centre meeting," Claire said, "Rama gave us the cold
shoulder. And at the one after that, he distributed the tape
'Sophisticated Sexuality' (see Appendix C). During the break, Rama
approached me. His eyes became small, like hard, little bullets. He
was furious. He told me repeatedly that my letter was self-indulgent
nonsense."

"Then he asked to see me outside," said Giles. "Alone. Grabbing me
and digging his fingers into my shoulders, he shouted, 'I'VE BEATEN
YOU! I'VE BEATEN YOU ALL!'"

"After the break," Claire continued, "Rama lectured for thirty minutes
about how people had been constantly throwing him bad energy--all the
while glaring at Giles."

During the next few weeks, Giles and Claire fearfully recalled Rama's
threat that deserters would look and feel like hell. Nonetheless, they
stopped attending meetings and trips to the desert, where Rama kept
trying to disappear.

"Some of you still harbor doubts that I can disappear," Rama accused
the several hundred disciples who sat around him in a circle. "But
perhaps if I dissolve someone else, you will find it easier to see.
Tonight I will be dissolving an old friend of mine. Mark, would you
come up here, please."

I walked toward him. I was thrilled. My heart was pumping fast. I
loved being the center of attention.

"Now, close your eyes," he said, placing his hand on my forehead. He
flashed me a devilish grin. "This won't hurt a bit."

I closed my lids. After several seconds, I felt detached from my
thought process. It was as if I could visually observe a thought as it
formed, connected with meaning, and vanished. One thought had been:
"What is going on?" As I tried to anticipate my next thought, I ended
up instead obs