The support has been amazing!

When I started writing my book four years ago, I had one primary goal: To reach out to people hurt by this cult and help them get out and heal from their experience. I believe that no one should feel isolated as a result of their involvement in JKP. We should all come together and be a support system for each other. I am happy to report that the book is starting to achieve this goal.

I launched my book one week ago today and I have already heard from many people who have thanked me for telling the truth about the Jagadguru Kripalu Parishat cult, Kripalu Marharaj, and Prakashanand Saraswati. Many of the readers so far are ex-devotees who have felt used and abused by JKP. Some are relatives of people who have been lured into the cult. Both groups want to read the book to learn about the JKP cult – either to heal or to help a family member get out.

The emails I have received have taught me how important it is for people who have been hurt by a cult to reach out to others who have experienced the same thing. Every person who was conned by this cult has a story of pain, estrangement, and grief. But now they also have a source of support from other ex-members. Every letter breaks my heart that any of us had to experience the awful experience of JKP.

I would like to share a few of the heart-tugging emails. Here are excerpts from just some of the people who have written to me in the past week:

Hi Karen,
One of the JKP preachers has been in my life since I was 10 years old. In Barsana Dham, I was called one morning to go to Kripalu’s room for the “private time” & was molested by him. I also saw many other girls who were visiting from other parts of the country go in & come out crying & devastated. This all happened without the knowledge of any parents.
I was 22 when I was molested the 2nd time. To be frank I was like a child too because I could not do anything about it. I felt like It was a MUST to be spending time with maharaji because that is when you know that you are going anywhere in your spiritual life.
Even my family members are devotees. The only way I can get my parents & my brother to even listen to me is when I tell them about children being raped & assaulted in this organization. There are kids who were involved in this organization with their parents and have ended up drinking heavily, doing drugs or getting involved in gangs. There is just way too many lives destroyed. This HAS to stop.
Thank you for writing the book & exposing these people. I spite people who do ANY harm to kids especially.
Thank you for listening. I truly appreciate it.

Dear Karen,
I was a JKP devotee since 5 years, never visited Barsana Dham but went to India 3 times. Since my first moment I entered the ashram in Mangarh, I sensed something very wrong, something very contradictory with spirituality was happening there. I tried hard to understand the spirituality behind what my eyes were seeing. Each time I failed, all I could see there was a crazy effort to make us give whatever we have and the guru’s hedonism. I even witnessed kripalu replacing a young girl’s hand on his privates during charan seva as they started to allow men to this seva to prove it was OK. I congratulate you about your book which also helped me believe in my own feelings at the first place.
Best regards.

Hi Karen:
Well, I just finished your book. Can’t believe I’ve read through it in less than two days but it’s a subject I think emotionally I needed to dive into. I was introduced to Prakash when I was 21. I was young, very spiritual and very impressionable. A month later I attended one of the annual intensives and Prakash began his tactics of recruiting me. Giving me loads of attention, requesting I speak to him in private, etc.
When Kripalu’s first visit to BD was announced I jumped on the band wagon and got tickets to stay in residence for 4-5 days. I arrived at BD the day after he touched down. That was the start of my decline in devotion. Here is how it went: I had not even walked through the front doors of the temple when an Indian man approached me and asked me who I was, where I was from and how I know Kripalu. I briefly explained and he grabbed my bags, whisked me onto a golf cart and took me up Barsana Hill to the top. There he stopped, turned around and looked at me and I’ll never forget what he said: “You’re going to see a lot of money being thrown around the next few days, a lot of money being waved in front of Maharaji and you are expected to give as much money to him as you can. This may seem a bit strange but this is how in India devotees pay respect to their Gurus.” I never went back to BD. After 10 years of blind devotion I realized that something was very wrong.
Much Love

Hi Karen,
My wife is currently involved with Barsana Dham and has been affiliated with them for the past several years. The contents of your book resonates with what is going on with her and I really appreciate you writing about your experiences. Hopefully I can get some insight on how to pull her out of this mess after reading the details of your book. She’s been under the influence of these people and they’ve basically brainwashed her to the point of extorting money which I’ve been saving for the past 30 years for our retirement.

Dear Karen,
I just finished reading your book last night. All I can say is wow… and amazing. You have clearly exposed the inner dealings of the JKP, and the true personalities of Prakash and Kripalu. As you said in your book, they are truly Rakshasas, Demonic Entities who have manifested in this age of darkness to feed upon the innocent minds and faith of countless people. I applaud you for this. By exposing them, and publishing this book, you’ve clearly illustrated that they could never have broken you, rather you have broken them. I just hope and pray that more people will read your book, and that their intellects will awaken, and that they will learn to discern truth from falsehood.
Good Luck! Much Peace and Light.

I hope to expand this message of hope and healing out to the entire universe of ex-members who have left JKP alone, hurt, and afraid – and those who have not yet left, but who want to. I am here to tell you that you are not alone – you can leave the abusive world of JKP, and you can live a wonderful life!

Here is the seventh and last installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 118. It appears in Part Seven, which provides evidence of who Kripalu Maharaj (aka Ram Tripathi) actually is. You can pre-order the book on this website now. All book orders will be fulfilled as electronic documents (PDF) on the book’s official launch date: February 15, 2012. Order now and save $5 off the price of $14.99.

An Accumulation of Evidence – Was Kripalu God or an Unstoppable Madman?

After learning the truth about the JKP Hindu organization, I started to wonder about Kripalu Maharaj — who was he, really?
Among his devotees, he is considered the incarnation of Radha-Krishna (the highest form of God), the reincarnation of Lord Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, and the fifth Jagadguru (guru of the universe). The party line back story on him involves some extraordinary mythology—including the fact that he just “appeared” as an infant next to his mother in a bed; that as a kid he went to school but already knew everything; and that he holds dominion over all living creatures on Earth.
I knew the fairytale. I also knew it was all a lie. So who is Kripalu really? My first clue came when I begin learning about a personality disorder called psychopathy (or sociopathy). According to Wikipedia:

“Psychopathy is a mental disorder characterized primarily by a lack of empathy and remorse, shallow emotions, egocentricity, and deceptiveness. Psychopaths are highly prone to antisocial behavior and abusive treatment of others. Though lacking empathy and emotional depth, they often manage to pass themselves off as average individuals by feigning emotions and lying about their past.”

After continued research, I came to one conclusion: Kripalu was a textbook psychopath.
My studies led me to what is widely considered to be the seminal book for lay-people on the subject: Without Conscience: The Disturbing World of the Psychopaths Among Us, by Robert D. Hare, PhD, the world’s leading expert on psychopathology. Dr. Hare created a list of characteristics used today by trained experts in law enforcement, prisons, and by psychologists to identify psychopaths. In it, Dr. Hare identified the twelve most common characteristics.
I am not a trained psychologist and cannot provide a definite diagnosis of Kripalu, but based on my years as a devotee, I can say with complete confidence that he exhibits all twelve characteristics. I will point out one example for each of the characteristics listed. However, the examples I cite are by no means exhaustive. For every evidence I provide, there are hundreds more that I could mention. It is beyond the scope of this book to document every example.

1. Glib and Superficial. “Psychopaths are often witty and articulate.” Anyone who has spent any amount of time around Kripalu knows that he regularly chatters away about anything that comes to his mind. Everyone around him acts as if every word he utters is laden with deep spiritual meaning. But, in truth, the majority of his commentary is nothing but meaningless prattle.

2. Egocentric and Grandiose. “Psychopaths have a narcissistic and grossly inflated view of their self-worth and importance, a truly astounding egocentricity and sense of entitlement, and see themselves as the center of the universe, as superior beings who are justified in living according to their own rules.” I suggest that the mere fact that Kripalu claims to be “the highest form of God,” and that everything in his world revolves around him is proof enough of this point. This characteristic also speaks to narcissism, which is a component of psychopathology. According to Wikipedia, the narcissistic personality (in the clinical sense) is characterized by a grandiose self-view, a sense of entitlement, lack of empathy, and self-centered egotism.

3. A Lack of Remorse or Guilt. “Psychopaths show a stunning lack of concern for the devastating effects their actions have on others.” The man rapes underage girls. Then he warns them not to tell anyone and goes on his merry way.

4. Lack of Empathy. “Psychopaths view people as little more than objects to be used for their own gratification.” One of the ways they do this is by “parasitically bleeding other people of their possessions, savings, and dignity” and “engaging in an unending series of casual, impersonal, and trivial sexual relationships.” This again speaks to Kripalu’s continuous “Sex Factory,” whereby he manipulates woman into having sex with him and rapes underage girls. He also unremorsefully bleeds people dry of as much money as possible — including, in many cases, their life savings.

5. Deceitful and Manipulative. “When caught in a lie or challenged with the truth, they are seldom perplexed or embarrassed, and simply change their stories or attempt to re-work the facts so that they appear to be consistent with the lie.” After Prakash became a convicted pedophile and a wanted fugitive, Kripalu simply hid the fact that for ten years Prakash had been project manager for Prem Mandir, the largest temple in Vrindavan. Suddenly the party line was that Kripalu built it himself. Nobody said a single word about this Orwellian rewriting of history (which is the norm in JKP).

6. Shallow Emotions. “While at times they appear cold and unemotional, they are prone to dramatic, shallow, and short-lived displays of feeling.” During Kripalu’s frequent but short interludes with female devotees, he often feigns to love them. However, when he’s no longer interested, he dismisses them with complete disregard. Another aspect of this personality disorder is the Machiavellian personality, which is characterized by manipulation and exploitation of others with a cynical disregard for morality and a focus on self-interest and deception. (In fact, Machiavellian, narcissism, and psychopathy are called the “dark triad” of personality disorders. Kripalu exhibits all three.)

7. Impulsive. “‘The psychopath is like an infant, absorbed in his own needs, vehemently demanding satiation,’ write psychologists William and Joan McCord.’” (Dr. Hare cites this comment from the McCord’s study, The Psychopath: An Essay on the Criminal Mind.) Devotees themselves always made ludicrous comments like “Maharaji is like a child” and “he’s so innocent.” In fact, he’s shrewd, canny and underhanded. He does exactly as he pleases and everyone else has to march to his tune. For example, on my second trip to India, Kripalu decided suddenly to leave Barsana the next morning for Orissa. This sudden change of schedule was the norm, not the exception.

8. Poor Behavior Controls. “Psychopaths are highly reactive to perceived insults or slights.” I once witnessed Kripalu suddenly start screaming at an elderly woman during a parikrama (walk) around his ashram. She was a long-time devotee, but he demanded that she leave his ashram. Her offense? She wore shoes on the parikrama. This is just one example of many when I’ve seen and heard about him yelling at people and kicking people out of his ashrams for small slights.

9. Need for Excitement. “Psychopaths have an ongoing and excessive need for excitement — they long to live in the fast lane or ‘on the edge,’ where the action is. In many cases the action involves breaking the rules.” Kripalu needs nearly constant activity around him and demands to be entertained almost constantly. He insists on frequent visits to other cities, expects women to dance for him nightly, and engages in endless secret sexual liaisons with women and young girls right under people’s noses.

10. Lack of Responsibility. “Psychopaths are not deterred by the possibility that their actions may cause hardship or risk to others.” On March 4, 2010, there was a stampede at the entrance to Kripalu’s main ashram in Mangarh, India. Hundreds of people died or were injured. Kripalu showed no sympathy, and, in fact, blamed the people themselves, saying they were not even invited to the free meal being served at the ashram. In the immediate aftermath of the tragedy, Kripalu was secretly transported out of the area. Later, a television reporter returned to interview the villagers. He spoke with several people, including one poor village woman, whose son, daughter, and mother in-law all died in the stampede. The reporter asked her if anyone from the ashram had visited her after the incident. She said no. When he asked her who was responsible, she was too shy at first to respond. He asked her if the gate was to blame? She said no. When he again asked who was responsible, she became emotional and said: “Baba” (meaning Kripalu). The reporter asked: “You think Baba is to blame?” She answered: “Yes, and he is hiding his face and is gone.”

11. Early Behavior Problems. “Most psychopaths begin to exhibit serious behavioral problems at an early age.” In Prakash’s series of speeches on the “life history” of Kripalu, he describes the childhood of a precocious, bratty, bully ringleader, who demanded center stage at all times. He says that Kripalu was always “pulling pranks” on his classmates, “asking his teachers questions they could not answer,” and was physically stronger than everyone around him. He would do things like climb high up into a tree and taunt his friends to follow him, and engage in stick fights in which no one could ever strike him.

12. Adult Antisocial Behavior. “Psychopaths consider the rules and expectations of society inconvenient and unreasonable, impediments to the behavioral expression of their inclinations and wishes.” The most revealing comment I ever heard about Kripalu was one he made himself in May 2007 in the Barsana Dham ashram in Austin, Texas: “The actions of a saint may seem more worldly than the most worldly person’s actions. But you cannot judge them, because you are worldly and a saint is divine.”

I also found a description of Kripalu’s early life in an article that talked about his arrest on charges of raping three underage girls in India. It shed interesting light on his origins—including the fact that he studied tantric yoga from a tantric yogi. This fact is very enlightening for two reasons: 1) Kripalu claims to never have had a guru, and 2) tantric yoga is closely associated with the “dark arts.”

Here is more from the article:

“Kripalu’s primary education was in Chitrakoot and further in Indore. At that time he met a swami and got to know him. He was impressed with him. He left his home and moved to his ashram. The swami knew tantric yoga. Kripalu did seva to the swami and learned tantric knowledge. Then he left and went to Vrindaban and started his own ashram (using the tantric knowledge).

“He gave eloquent speeches. Because of that people became impressed by this, many went to his lectures and slowly his devotees grew. Word got out that if someone happened to get something that they wanted, they would credit him. For example, if a woman wanted a baby or man a job and they got what they wanted (by chance) after seeing Kripalu, they believed he caused it. Many started relying on him for their desires. Slowly people started believing he was a descended form of god and started doing puja to him. Whoever had blind faith on him, those people joined him. With the people’s money he made a big ashram in Mangarh.

“Kripalu is a different kind of sadhu. He was a married man with children. But he didn’t care for that. When he was young he married a very beautiful lady and honeymooned in Mangarh (note: not the woman, Ama). Then he left and went back to Vrindaban. He kept going to Mangarh on and off to see her. But then she became fat and he didn’t like her anymore, and quit going to see her. He married a second time. Even though he married a second time, devotees still had faith in him. Time went on and he became more famous and he got many devotees in several places. Through donations he became a millionaire.”

It’s no surprise that Kripalu’s official back story is a complete fabrication, because being an accomplished liar goes hand-in-hand with being a textbook psychopath.

Here is the sixth installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 104. It appears in Part Six, which provides insight into Prakashananand Saraswati’s criminal trial last year. You can pre-order the book on this website now. All book orders will be fulfilled on the book’s official launch date: February 15, 2012. Order now and save $5 off the price of $14.99.

Day Two – Backroom Confidential

Wednesday, February 23, 2011.
“This is a very simple case—this is a case about one man and his choices,” said Amy Lockhart, assistant district attorney for Hays County. “This case is simply about what he did, as a man, to two young girls.”
Thus began the criminal trial of the State of Texas versus Prakashanand Saraswati.
I wasn’t allowed in the courtroom during the trial because I was a potential witness. Cathy thought that it would be good to have an adult handy in case she needed to refute something incriminating that one of the defense witnesses might claim about ashram life. I had not witnessed the crimes, but I had experienced life in the ashram for 15 years. That is how I ended up in the tiny witness room with the girls for the first few days of the trial.
During the time I was in the courthouse, I stayed at Kathi and Wayne’s home. I drove the back roads through the Texas Hill country to the San Marcos courthouse everyday, stopping at Whataburger for coffee and breakfast to go.
On the first day of the trial, I arrived early—only to discover that the parking lot was already filling with devotees, who were lining up in front of the building. I had no idea how I would feel being around these people, most of whom I had not seen in almost three years. I locked my car, took a deep break, and walked to the front entrance of the courthouse.
As I reached the main doors, I was surrounded by devotees. None of them looked directly at me, but I could sense their furtive glances. I felt nothing. I could have been in line at a grocery store among people I had never met before. These people, whom I had once known so well, were strangers to me now. I was completely surprised—but very, very pleased—that they no longer had the power to intimidate me.
Once I was inside, I met up with the girls in Cathy’s office. All three of them were each dressed beautifully in prim outfits, much more business-like than the clothes they usually wore. But their smart attire could not hide their extreme nervousness. A few minutes before 9:00 a.m., Allison and an armed guard escorted us to the witness room. We walked down a long narrow hallway that opened up into a large square space with high ceilings near the courtroom. There were a few chairs along the walls. Another shorter hallway led to the doors of a second courtroom, where Prakash’s trial was about to begin.
The witness room was just off the large square hallway space. It was tiny and crowded with an overstuffed love seat and two matching chairs. There were also two large square end tables, a few kitchen table style chairs, and a dorm-size refrigerator. One wall contained a cupboard and book shelves overflowing with children’s toys and books. A small TV sat on top of the cupboard. This would be the girls’ new home for the next seven days—and mine, for next four days
Allison kept the door into the room open to keep the air circulating in the stuffy, small space. As a result, we could see everyone going into or coming out of the courtroom.
The girls could not relax. They sat like wound up springs, read to bounce. The first day was the worst, because they had no idea when they would be called into the courtroom to testify. Cathy had not revealed her trial strategy in advance. She had only said that she thought the order would be Vesla, Shyama, then Kate.
There was no bathroom in the witness room. Rather than risk running into devotees in the public restroom, we used a private bathroom located near the prosecution offices. At about 10:00 a.m., Vesla and Shyama asked Allison to take them to the bathroom.
Two minutes later, one of the assistants came in looking for Kate. “Cathy just asked for you in the courtroom.” Kate stood straight up, eyes wide like the proverbial deer in the headlights.
“Do you want a hug?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, turning round with a leap, I gave her a quick hug of encouragement. She was stiff, like a soldier called to duty, as she marched down the hallway towards the courtroom.
The girls and Allison returned minutes later. “Where’s Kate?”
“She was just called into the courtroom,” I said. “As it turns out, she’s the first witness.”
Kate returned to the witness room at about 11:30 a.m., a bundle of nerves. The worst part now was that she could not talk about anything with us.
Allison had us leave early for lunch so we could beat the devotees out of the building. Kate was still so worked up that she couldn’t eat. She had us stop for cigarettes, and she smoked outside while the rest of us ate.
Kate was called back into the courtroom right after lunch, and was in there for the next three hours. To pass the time, I started working on my computer. Shyama and Allison started playing a computer game called “Angry Birds,” which helped pass time and calmed Shyama’s nerves. Vesla sat quietly in one of the big chairs, lost in her own thoughts.
Later, from the court transcriptions, I learned every detail about the trial proceedings. The trial began with the two sides making their opening statements, including the prosecution detailing the twenty charges of indecency with children against Prakash. Then Cathy called in Kate.
The defense was not happy when Cathy called Kate as her first witness, as evidenced by the dialogue between Cathy and the two lead defense lawyers, Jo Angelyn Gates and Jeff Kearney.

Gates: “We would like an offer of proof as to what Kate Tonnessen is going to testify to and a hearing if there’s going to be any allegations under 404(b). That has not been determined. She is not a victim in this case.”
Cathy: “Well, Your Honor, we put them on notice, and the law clearly states that if their defense is fabrication that we can bring in other witnesses to talk about his acts with them. And I think clearly, from counsel’s opening, that shows their defense certainly is fabrication.”
Judge Ramsay: “Defense request is denied.”
Kearney: “Your Honor –”
Judge Ramsay: “Proceed.”

Amy Lockhart interviewed Kate.

Amy: “Can you tell the jury about the circumstances for the first time he did something to you?”
Kate: “Yes. I was 14 years old. And as we did every day, we watched him eat his morning meal and his evening meal in a large group. And on this day, he was sitting in a room aside from where he normally did on a large papasan chair. It’s a big, round chair. And all the children always would sit as close as possible to him. And I was sitting to his side, and he grabbed me and pulled me in so I was leaning onto the papasan and him on his lap when, with a whole audience, he somehow was able to – he wrapped his arm around me and put it up my shirt and began pinching my nipples and fondling my breasts. I believed that that – because we were in front of so many people, I mean, I was just shocked. Now, prior to this he had been – he had started kissing me in a more passionate way. He would never – his tongue never penetrated my mouth, but he would kiss me where when – and for prolonged periods of time and rub his – his tongue against my lips.”
Amy: “Okay. Kate, how old were you when he started doing that?”
Kate: “12 to 13.”

Kate then described how she had shut herself in her bedroom for three days in despair after the papasan chair incident, how her mother had read her diary, and how her mother had forced her to go to Prakash to “work things out.”

Amy: “So you were able to tell Swami Ji how he had made you feel?”
Kate: “Yes.”
Amy: “And what did he say to you?”
Kate: “He said it was a test.”

Here is the fifth installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 96. It appears in Part Five. I particularly love this chapter, because it shows just one of the many miracles that occurred in the long journey to get justice for Prakash’s victims. The book is now available to pre-order on this website. All book orders will be fulfilled on the book’s official launch date: February 15, 2012. Order now and save $5 off the price of $14.99.

CHAPTER 96
Uncivil Behavior – When Lawyers Play Dirty

I learned the hard way about the important differences between criminal and civil court cases.
In criminal cases, there are strict rules regarding who the defense lawyers can deposition (interview) and who they cannot. For example, defense lawyers do not have access to the state’s witnesses.
In civil cases, however, the defense lawyers can deposition almost anyone they want to, no matter how remotely related the person may be to the case. As one lawyer told me, they could interview a neighbor’s gardener if they wanted to.
Despite the rules, Prakash’s defense lawyers still tried to talk to the state’s two female witnesses in his criminal case. They attempted to contact both women, even hiring private detectives in Seattle to track them down. They became so aggressive that the DA finally told them pointblank to leave her witnesses alone.
And they did — for two years. Then a potential jackpot fell into their laps.
In March 2010, an ex-JKP devotee launched a civil suit against Prakash and seven members of the Barsana Dham organization. Since she could not find a lawyer to take on what some called a “frivolous” lawsuit, the woman filed pro se, which means she advocated on her own behalf, rather than being represented by a lawyer.
With the filing of that civil complaint, all bets were off from Barsana Dham’s perspective. They could deposition anyone they wanted to, and claim that it was for the civil suit. One of Prakash’s lawyers, Randy Levitt, immediately sent out subpoenas to six people—the three women related to the criminal trial, who were abused by Prakash as children (Kate, Shyama, and Vesla) and their significant others.
Five of the six people subpoenaed had absolutely nothing to do with the ex-devotee filing the civil case. In fact, the three men subpoenaed didn’t even know her. It was clear that Randy, the attorney for Barsana Dham, was exploiting the more lenient rules of civil law to gain access to the witnesses involved in the criminal case.
What Prakash’s defense team did not count on was the determination of the three girls to not simply roll over and play dead.
The depositions for Kate and her husband were scheduled first. I emailed Melina, a lawyer I had met along the way who had once been a prosecutor in San Antonio. I explained the situation and asked what Kate should do.
She wrote back saying: “Maybe they can quash the depositions.” “Quash” means to legally deny an action requested.
Kate began researching how to quash a deposition, and found a lawsuit in which the wife of a CEO of a large energy company in Texas had successfully quashed a deposition that lawyers had requested of her related to her husband’s legal problems.
Kate used the document as her template and created motions to quash for herself and her husband, which she then filed with the State of Washington, where she lived. The motions to quash were very simple and straightforward:

“Kate does not have any knowledge of the events alleged in the Plaintiff’s civil action and JKP Barsana Dham has failed to show that she has. Kate’s only significant interaction with the plaintiff was as a child neighbor before the year 1997 when she moved away at 18 years old. Kate had no association with the Plaintiff as an adult between the years of 1997 and 2007 and has not lived near her or had any interaction with the Plaintiff as an adult during the years she has made her claims.”

Kate notified Randy that she had filed the motions and, as such, would not be appearing for the scheduled deposition until she heard back from the Washington Judge.
But Randy did not want to let her off the hook, even though she was following legal procedure. He wrote back, insisting that Kate did not understand the rules of law and that she and her husband were still required to appear at the deposition as scheduled, despite her motions to quash. Finally, Kate just ignored his manipulating emails.
Nonetheless, Randy flew to Washington, wasting his time and Barsana Dham’s money. Then he even tried to charge Kate and her husband for the trip—and he filed a motion to that end.
Within a few weeks Kate received the news from the Washington Court. Both her deposition and her husband’s had successfully been quashed. Kate accomplished this out of sheer determination not to let Prakash’s lawyers push her around. The depositions for her sister and brother-in-law were also successfully quashed.
The letter she received from the Washington Judge was worthy of being framed. One paragraph summed up what he likely thought of the matter:

“Defendants sought attorney fees and expenses because their counsel flew from Texas to Seattle to take the depositions of Kathryn Tonnessen and Dylan Peterson. Defendants also sought an order of contempt. The court declines to award attorney fees or to hold the witnesses in contempt. They properly filed motions to quash the subpoenas, and did not act unreasonably in failing to appear for depositions before the court had ruled on their motions to quash.”

After her victory Kate joked: “I had the best lawyers money could buy”—which was more than Prakash could say.

Here is the fourth installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 65. It appears in Part Four.

Confronting the Guru – An Invitation to “Private Time”

After Maharaji’s return to Barsana Dham, I stayed far away from him.
I didn’t go anywhere near the temple, not even to satsang. I refused to do any seva, including baking birthday cakes for the $2,500 “birthday seva.” I told everyone that I had to get back to work and had no more free time or money. That did not go over well. However, this time I wasn’t the only one staying away from him.
Many devotees were either too tired or had to return to their jobs. As a result, the prayer hall was almost empty during Maharaji’s daytime satsang times. I heard that Swamiji asked Prabhakari for a list of the names of ashram devotees not going to Maharaji’s satsang.
One day, I was in kitchen of The Girls House making a snack. Terry called out to me: “Swamiji was just here looking for you,” she said.
“What?” I answered incredulously. My heart started pounding. By this point, I still hadn’t figured out Swamiji’s role in Maharaji’s secret world.
“I told him you were in your office. He just went there.”
I ran back to my office. Swamiji was sitting outside of my building on his golf cart and Vishi was up knocking on my door. I called out: “I’m right here.”
As I approached them, Swamiji said, “We came to see your office.” He had never once come to my office the entire time I lived in the ashram, so I knew that he was there for some other reason.
“Okay Swamiji,” I said.
I unlocked the door and let them in. Swamiji made a beeline for my tan love seat. I walked behind him, then knelt down on the floor next to him. Vishi sat off to the side, learning on a bookcase.
Despite my obsequies behavior, I was not happy to see him. My mind was rac-ing. What could he possibly want?
He looked around my office, and commented on my framed prints of trees. “I like that picture,” he said.
“It’s one of my favorites,” I replied. I knew this was just small talk, because he was not here just to view my office decorations. I braced for whatever it was that he was here for.
He sat quietly for a minute. As the seconds slowly ticked by, I sat rigidly in an-ticipation, scared to death over what this was all about.
Finally, he spoke matter-of-factly: “You’re not going to Maharaji’s satsang.”
I stuck to my story. “Swamiji, I can’t take anymore time off of work. I already took more than I could afford during Maharaji’s first six weeks here.”
“You have to go to see him. This is a rare opportunity.” He was talking in a normal tone. But I knew from experience, he could change his mood at any moment.
“Is there something wrong?’ he asked.
I was not prepared for this question. I was still in shock about everything I’d learned in the past few weeks. I had not yet figured out Swamiji’s role in the whole scam, and still believed in his divinity to some extent. I realized that I should use this opportunity to try to understand what the hell was going on.
“Well … I … I’m not sure …” I struggled to find the words to voice my convo-luted thoughts, and to figure out how to answer without getting blasted by Swamiji.
“What?” he said, with only a hint of impatience.
“I was wondering …” I could not say the words.
Vishi piped up. “You can tell Swamiji anything. Just tell him,” she insisted.
I finally squeaked out one sentence. “I don’t understand who Maharaji is?”
“What?” Now he was irritated. “What don’t you understand? I told you his whole life history.”
“I know Swamiji, but I don’t understand about private time.”
“What do you mean?” he said, his voice a controlled growl.
Vishi spoke to him in Hindu, obviously explaining to him what I had just said.
He looked at me with a mixture of puzzlement and disgust. He said, “What does Maharaji need from a woman’s body?”
“I don’t know,” I answered in a tone that said: You tell me.
He snapped back: “He doesn’t need anything. He doesn’t do it for his benefit. He does it for their benefit.”
I was stunned. He had not denied it. In fact, he had just admitted to me that Maharaji did spend private time with women—and there was no mistaking that the euphemism meant sex.
He sat silently fuming for a few seconds. Then he said, “Do you want to have private time with Maharaji?”
I realized this was a trap. If I said no, Swamiji would immediately know I wasn’t a true believer. So I gave the only answer I could under the circumstances: “Yes, Swamiji.”
“Then you have to be in satsang, sit up close to him, and long for him in your heart. At least go once a day in the morning. That is very important.”
“Okay, Swamiji, I will.”
Apparently satisfied with my answer, he got up and walked out of my office.
Vishi trailed after him and looked up at me. “Come talk to me sometime,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Okay,” I nodded, realizing I’d just been invited to be prepped by her for private time with Maharaji.

Here is the third installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 54. It appears in Part Three.

Charan Seva – My Initiation into a Secret Ritual

There was a shortage of women when Maharaji arrived five weeks early to Barsana Dham in 2007.
That’s how I ended up in his bedroom one afternoon doing the secretive “charan seva” for the first time. The euphemism means, “worshipping the guru’s lotus feet.” But in Maharaji’s case, the activity had very little to do with his feet.
I was leaving the prayer hall early in the morning the day after Maharaji arrived in Barsana Dham when Carla stopped me. It was 5:30 a.m. Most of the devotees were still in the prayer hall chanting. I was going back to bed to get some more sleep.
She approached me purposefully and asked, “Would you like to press Maharaji today?”
Of all the questions Carla could have asked me, this is the last one I would have imagined. I’d never been asked to press him before. I didn’t even know it was an option.
I was astonished. After all, spending time in Maharaji’s room was considered a great honor among the devotees. Up until then, I’d only spent time in his bedroom when I was spending money on seva. I felt a rush of happiness. I thought that maybe this time it would be my chance to actually feel his divinity.
“Yes, I would. I would love to. Thank you so much for asking me.”
I was gushing, partly because I could not believe my luck to be in the right place as the right time, and partly out of concern that she would take back the offer if I didn’t show the proper level of interest and appreciation.
Carla studied a small notebook she was carrying, using a pen as a pointer. “You can either press him at six this morning after his walk or at five this afternoon right after arti.”
Since I had planned to go back to sleep that morning, I told her I’d take the 5:00 p.m. slot. Then I instantly thought better of not taking the first opportunity available.
“Well, maybe this morning instead.” I was overly excited by the enormity of the event and probably couldn’t sleep anyway.
“I’ve got four women already, and have a couple more women to ask.” While she was looking down at her notebook, I could see the page she was studying. It contained lists with times and women’s names. There were five or six separate lists of names and times.
The last thing I wanted to do was create a problem for Carla, and possibly lose my chance. “Five this afternoon is fine then,” I said. She seemed satisfied with my decision.
“Meet me in the hallway outside of his bedroom 15 minutes early,” she stated. “Take a shower, cut your nails really short, don’t wear any jewelry, and don’t tell anyone.”
“Okay,” I said without hesitation.
She looked up to see if I comprehended her directions. Then her eyes squinted slightly. She seemed to suddenly second-guess her decision to invite me to do the precious charan seva. “Do you have a firm grip?”
“Yes,” I blurted out, nodding my head, not sure if I actually did and fearing that I didn’t.
She put her arm out. “Here. Press my arm.”
I gripped the muscle of her forearm and pressed as hard as I could.
“That’s good,” she declared. “Press him really hard. The harder the better. That’s how he likes it.” Then she pivoted and walked away.
In the bhakti tradition, pressing (or massaging) a guru is a sacred honor for a devotee. Typically, the part of the guru’s body that devotees press is the guru’s feet, called charan, which means “lotus feet” in Hindi. However, in reality, few devotees of gurus actually get to press their gurus’ feet, usually because the guru has such a large following that it’s impossible for the majority of his followers to get physically close to him or her. Often it’s because the guru is no longer living. As a result, the idea of pressing the lotus feet of the guru is more a concept than a reality for the average Hindu devotee.
My guru was very much alive and had a relatively modest congregation compared to other gurus. However, some devotees had much more access to Maharaji than others. I was not one of them. So after 15 years on this spiritual path, to be asked to “press my guru” felt to me like I’d reached the pinnacle of my spiritual journey. I thought that I must have finally reached a significantly high stage of devotion to be included in such an intimate activity. I thought that finally I was receiving a reward for years of dedicated service. In that moment, I felt that every hardship I had endured along the way was now paying off. I believed that this was to be one of the most devotional experiences of my life. I couldn’t wait until 5:00 p.m. to experience such an exquisite blessing.
All five of the women appointed to the 5:00 p.m. pressing session showed up fifteen minutes early. The other women in my group were Indian, ranging in age from late 20s to mid-50s. Carla directed us into a small hallway with two doors, one of which led into Maharaji’s bedroom via his bathroom. The space was about three feet wide by six feet long.
“Wait here for his assistant to open that door,” Carla instructed authoritatively. “Maharaji is still walking, but he’ll be in his room soon. Keep quiet. We don’t want anyone to know you are here, especially the men.” Then she disappeared.
As we waited silently for several minutes, I tried to savor the moment, but as the seconds ticked by I grew increasingly nervous about what was about to happen. The small hallway was stuffy, and with five bodies crowded together the space grew warmer and more uncomfortable by the minute. I started to sweat. Finally, I broke the silence to distract my mind from my nerves and physical discomfort.
“Have you ever done this before?” I asked one of the women in a low tone.
“No,” she said softly shaking her head.
I looked at the other women.
“No,” said two others.
“I’ve done it many times,” said the fifth and the oldest. “I press him all the time. I travel with him a lot.”
I was relieved to have at least one experienced person among us. All four of us looked to her.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“We each need to take a position on his leg or foot, but only his right foot, because his left foot hurts from an old injury. You have to be very careful while massaging his other foot. It is very delicate. And use the palms of your hands, not your fingertips, so you don’t hurt him.”
“I don’t want his foot,” I said, fearful of causing him pain.
“I’ll do his foot,” she offered. “Who wants to do his thighs?” None of us answered. Then I said, “I will.”
Another woman said, “I will too.”
“Okay, you two take a thigh and you two take a calf. If you have on any jewelry, take it off.” Clearly, this woman knew the routine. Two women took off rings and put them in small bags they were carrying over their shoulders.
The door finally opened and Neelu, Maharaji’s main assistant, waved us in briskly, “Come on, come on. Maharaji is waiting.”
We hurried through his bathroom and into his bedroom. The air-conditioned coolness was a relief after the stifling hallway, but was laced with a strong smell of foreign perfume.
Maharaji was lying on his bed in his orange short-sleeve shirt and dhoti against a neatly positioned pile of pillows. His legs were spread open in a diamond shape. His arms were spread open also, resting on pillows positioned on both sides of his body.
Each of us hurried to our pre-determined spot, climbed onto his bed, and kneeled on the mattress. I placed my hands on his thigh and started to grab the muscle. It was difficult, because he was so thin and there was very little meat on his bones. Within a minute, Maharaji said something in Hindi, and Neelu barked at us, “Maharaji said to press harder.” Then she flipped the light switch dimming the lights, and left the room through another door. Maharaji continued to lie on his bed in the same position, saying nothing.
I was shaking, but concentrating mightily on massaging him as firmly as possible, without digging my nails or fingertips into his flesh. I moved my hands up and down his thigh, gripping whatever muscle I could find. The fabric of his thin dhoti kept bunching up under my fingers, threatening to spread open at his groin. I paused a few times to quickly straighten the fabric to preserve his modesty.
After I’d been massaging him for about five minutes, he touched my hand with his long, bony fingers and nudged it toward his groin. I assumed he was indicating for me to massage higher on his thigh. But I was already massaging as high as I possibly could. I moved my hands a few millimeters higher, taking great pains not to come into contact with his private parts. Then he touched my hand again, pushing it still closer to his crotch, but with a little more force. I couldn’t imagine what he was actually suggesting, and I kept my hands within millimeters of the top of his thigh. He didn’t try again, and, lost in the thrill of being so up close and personal with my guru, I immediately forgot about the strange incident.
We all massaged him in silence. After about ten minutes, my legs were shaking from squatting in a kneeling position. I was starting to sweat despite the room’s frigid temperature. Fearing that a drop of sweat would fall on him, I quickly wiped my face with the edge of my sari.
Finally, after almost fifteen minutes of massage, he abruptly indicated that the charan seva session was over with a curt, “Jao!,” which means “leave now” in Hindi. As we scrambled off his bed, he repositioned himself and reached for a buzzer on his night table. As we scurried out through the bathroom door, Neelu entered from another.
I walked around the ashram for the rest of the day in a daze, which I assumed was devotional euphoria. It was intoxicating to be in on this secret seva experience. Now, I understood why female devotees kept such things hush-hush. It was like some kind of initiation into a super-secret group—the kind where people say, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
That’s how secretive charan seva was.

Here is the second installment in my series of excerpts prior to the publication of my new book: Sex, Lies, and Two Hindu Gurus. This is Chapter 32. It appears in Part Two.

Barsana Dham in the News — Rolling with the Punches

When I arrived at the ashram in early 1993 there was an undercurrent of hush-hush scuttlebutt about an article that had appeared a few months earlier in the local daily paper.
It was only by chance that I even learned about the existence of the newspaper article, since Swamiji had strictly instructed the devotees not to talk about it.
“What’s it about?” I asked one of my ashram friends.
“We were told not to talk about it. But it was pretty negative,” she said, conspiratorially. “Some former devotees from Philly turned on Swamiji. One of them had some mental problems.”
Naturally, I was curious so I asked some of the other devotees. But no one would share any details. They just said: “You don’t want to know,” or “They can’t hurt Swamiji; they are only hurting themselves,” or “It’s a transgression to talk about it.”
As luck would have it, my public relations service projects for the ashram provided me with access to the computer room, where all of the media files were stored. One day, while looking for something else in the large four-drawer filing cabinet, I found the article in the Austin American-Statesman.
Titled “Swami’s planned Hindu temple is center of speculation,” the article cited three former followers who claimed to have had bad experiences in the organization back when it was headquartered in Philadelphia in the 1980s.
There were comments from former devotee Joe Kelly, who started an anti-cult organization after leaving Swamiji: “My involvement, in some ways, was one of the most devastating experiences of my life. I’m very suspicious of this organization as a benign religious group. I was frightened by what I saw around me, which was people giving up their total will to the system. I consider it very much a cultic group.”
Former devotee Diane H. likened her year with the society to spiritual rape. “He told me that if I ever left him, I would spend the next 500 lifetimes as an insect,” she said. “It’s funny now, but it wasn’t then. I actually had nightmares about that for a while. He had a hold on me.”
The reporter of this story mentioned a woman quoted in a Miami Herald article from July 6, 1989. Cassandra T. says that during her two-year experience with the organization “it controlled her mind and almost ruined her marriage to a nonmember.”
Swamiji was defended in the article by three of his followers, including his main preacher at the time, Sureshwari Devi (formerly Meera Devi): “He’s so inspiring. To us, his whole life is dedicated to God. He’s very much a fatherly figure in a spiritual sense. He guides us to God. We’ve never been perceived as a cult by any people I know. We’re teaching a very traditional path. Any group has disgruntled former members.”
Swamiji devotee, Raj Goel, said that the ex-devotees “misunderstood the guru-disciple relationship, mistaking advice for commands.” He added, “To run any organization you need money, and this is all pure charity. But Swamiji would never force how much you give and what you give. I give whatever I can afford and what I think needs to be given at the right time.”
In the article, Swamiji’s responses seemed evasive. On why he chose to build his ashram in Austin, he said simply: “Austin chose us.”
When asked about his detractors he was quoted as saying: “Ridiculous. All ridiculous statements.”
He also commented that his detractors “are very prejudiced people.”
Despite the revelations, the only negative impact the article seemed to have on Barsana Dham was lower attendance at the organization’s first public event, the temple’s groundbreaking ceremony, which was held in 1992, just before I arrived. However, after that the number of people who attended events and satsang steadily increased over the years.
After that article, Barsana Dham worked proactively on its media image. The work paid off when Austin’s alternative weekly paper, The Austin Chronicle, ran an article on December 9, 1994. A photo of the temple even made it on the cover. The article, written by Bill Crawford, was positive. The only negative comment was when the reporter stated that the people living in the ashram looked like “dorks,” no doubt referring to the men and women’s drab attire, including the women’s modest wardrobe of mid-calf-length skirts and boxy blouses.
We reveled in the good publicity and rolled with the one negative comment. After all, one devotee pointed out that “dork” simply stood for: Devotees of Radha Krishna.
It was easy for us to re-cast every seemingly negative comment or event into a devotional context. After all, we believed that people out in the world could never understand the divine work that was going on inside the ashram gates. Our party line was that other people just didn’t “get it.” Meanwhile, we staunchly believed that Swamiji possessed the power to override the negative effects of a few worldly-minded people.
Swamiji successfully convinced his followers that negative perspectives from people in the outside world were all part of the package of following a true God-realized saint—because, as he often said, “There would always be negative forces at work against the divine forces.”