One Woman Tells Her Story of Being Groomed as a Child to Have Sex With Kripalu Maharaji

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Image: Beginning when she was just a little girl, Karisha was groomed to become another sex object for Kripalu by one of his preachers. But she fought back. Then her family turned their back on her and began treating one another preacher as their daughter.

Originally Published: 16 November 2017

Updated and Republished: 8 March 2025

By Karen Jonson (Rishika)

Karishma spent years healing from the trauma she experienced at the hands of Kripalu and his preachers. When she came to me, she was ready to tell her story in her own words—the story of becoming a victim of the JKP sex factory. Here is her story. 

My Life as a Young Girl in the Jagadguru Kripalu Parishat Sex Cult

By Karishma Blancett

My family learned about JKP and its leader, Kripalu, through one of its preachers—Gopeshwari Devi (aka, didi). At that time, she was the main preacher in the Fiji Islands and some parts of New Zealand since her family is from there.

Gopeshwari came to Lautoka, where we lived, to preach. My oldest aunt was always into these types of spiritual things. She would always entertain preachers from different organizations for what you might call “attention-seeking behavior.” Gopeshwari used to stay at my aunt’s house when she was touring the islands in the western division. My aunt introduced my family to her. Gopeshwari acted sweet and kind. She informed us about how spiritual practices were so much simpler in her organization than what we were doing as regular Hindus. My parents were hooked quickly and decided to switch to this organization.

We held a huge three-day program at our home. Gopeshwari talked about her so-called guru, telling us he gave up his golden seat to give India something it needed. She explained that he had spent time out in the jungle performing tapasyas(austerities). When he returned from the jungle, he was a godly being who wrote songs and books. She told us he had kids without having sex and that the color of one of his daughter’s skin was white.

I was just ten at the time and lived a very sheltered life. I was always looking for love and attention (in all the wrong places), and I was very impressionable. I believed everything this preacher told me. I decided this group was the way to go, and these are the people I should be hanging out with, because they are saints, and they can do no wrong. I suggested to my mum and dad that we should quit eating meat and follow Gopeshwari, as she is the one who will show us an easier way to God.

From the get-go, Gopeshwari was very loving, kind, and gentle towards me. She was like an auntie looking out for me. She advised me on everything—from the way I dressed to the way I do things to how to not gain weight. And she told me to keep myself away from boys. She was always keeping an eye on me. She would treat me and other single girls like we were the gopis and that we were only meant for the Lord. It felt like we were being molded and groomed for some specific purpose.

Years passed like this, then things started to change. I started to see her true colors. I discovered that Gopeshwari had anger issues. She would argue with everyone, including my mum, if something did not go her way. She would flip out if she told the kids to do something and we did not do it in a certain way by a certain time. There is angry, and then there is really angry. She would say things that would hurt our feelings or make us cry in front of a crowd of people.

She also continually made demands to ensure that she was always well taken care of, because, according to her, she was the student of a world-famous guru who is not from this world. Someone had to wash her clothes, cook her food in the way she specified, and serve her using only the best china and flatware. She was always visiting people’s homes, spending time with them, and being treated like a VIP. And from all the hardworking people in Fiji whom she visited, she expected dhan (donations). I also noticed that Gopeshwari made sure that any new people who seemed to be wealthy were well taken care of by the rest of us.

While I was growing up, I believed that JKP was my way out of living a normal life. I believed that was going to be loved by someone who was super holy. Indian girls who are from small countries can only dream. We typically watch Bollywood movies and listen to Bollywood music while thinking about boys. However, the girls in this organization were not supposed to dream about these things. 

Our parents made sure we were staying true to the group’s messaging. They made sure we were always thinking about our guru and God. Already, Indian culture was in play. Now, we had the added messaging of this organization impacting our lives. God forbid my parents caught me talking to a boy. All I would hear is, “Karishma, come and sit here, fix your veil, sit properly, stop laughing so loudly, do this, do that.” It was very frustrating for a young girl.

Then we got the news that we were moving to the U.S. I remember that day so well. I happened to be giving Gopeshwari a massage, which I was instructed to do regularly whenever she was around. She said to me point-blank, “If you screw up in the U.S., I will make sure you are shipped back to Fiji.” 

She meant if I did not behave the way she groomed me to behave, if I got a boyfriend or, heaven forbid, got married, she would send me back. At that time, I thought it was funny. But I was still young. What’s more, I was so brainwashed that I believed that what I wanted was to move to India and dedicate my life to being loved by the guru and his people. At that time, I would have done anything to have that chance. 

My desire was fueled by the fact that one long-time devotee had just sent her daughter to India to study and live at the ashram with the guru. Her parents were proud of her. She now works for this group.

Later, she told me that she had been raped by Kripalu.
I was in shock, but she was proud of that fact.
And so was her mother, who now considers her daughter to be an eternal god.

KARISHMA

When we moved to the U.S., I was sixteen, and Gopeshwari still had her claws in me. She often visited different parts of California. She had cousins that were really into JKP. Their daughters were my age, so we clicked. We would perform Indian dances at some of Gopeshwari’s events. She was also making regular trips to the Austin ashram, and so did my family. We met some other devotees who were following Prakashanand. We thought it was weird that instead of praying to the main guru, Kripalu, the Texas people were praying to Prakashanand.

Gopeshwari told us, “They are supposed to pray to Prakashanand because he is so good at what he does.”

She said that Prakashanand was going to take over when Kripalu moves on, in other words, dies. We struggled to figure out where Kripalu’s sons and daughters fit into the line of succession. I was beginning to see that there was always a lot of drama, intrigue, and secrets in this group.

Things started changing for me after we moved to the U.S. There were so many more opportunities that opened up. By this time, I had started attending college and working. Now that I had my own money, my donations to JKP started adding up. 

Also, when my parents visited India, everything they did in the ashram had a price tag—from visiting the guru to paying for trinkets, like scarves or jewelry. God forbid if you did not have the money right away. Then it goes in a ledger that Gopeshwari kept tightly under control. Before the end of a trip I took to India in 2006, I was in debt to the organization for ten thousand dollars.

While there, I had a traumatic experience thanks to the dark side of Gopeshwari. One day, my brother and I were hanging out with another devotee’s son in his parents’ room before the night’s event. Gopeshwari found out. That night she gave a speech that was all about me. By the end, everyone at the program was told that I had spent the day with that boy. However, they were not told that my nineteen-year-old brother was with us the whole time. She conveniently left out that part. I wasn’t even friends with the boy, but, according to her, I had already slept with him and was about to have his child.

She also told his parents, sister, aunt, and grandma that I had bad intentions for their son. My mother also got an earful. All this, while my mother knew where we were and what we were doing the entire day. My mother didn’t even stand up for me. I was so embarrassed and cried the entire time. I was also pissed off and depressed. In that cult, you never get to be happy. There’s always some type of drama.

At some point, we heard that Kripalu was going on a world tour, and he would be coming to the U.S. in 2005, including the Bay Area. Omg! Gopeshwari went on a tear. She knocked on the doors of all the rich people. She was looking for a place for him and his family to stay. It had to be a rich person’s house, so he had an opulent room. One rich couple was chosen. They had a half-million-dollar home in a quiet community. 

Then she started making demands. Kripalu’s room was supposed to have this and that. He needed at least ten huge clocks in the room. He had to have a certain kind of shower. The rooms needed to be linked somehow. A Mercedes had to be rented. Everyone’s lives stopped so they could prepare to serve the guru and his entourage. He was traveling with a huge group, including his daughters and son. Also, people had to cook all his food, and someone had to wash his clothes and sheets—all women’s jobs, of course. He can’t do anything without all these girls and women surrounding him. I wanted to go see him with my brother the first day he was there, but Gopeshwari said “no.”

She then told me, “You will have private time with Kripalu.” 
I was thinking, what does that even mean?

Karishma

The weekend before Kripalu came to the U.S., five young girls were invited to a special group conversation with Gopeshwari, including me. She started by asking us, “How do you see Kripalu?” 

One girl said she saw him as her husband. I thought that was weird. I respect him as God’s servant but never thought of him as my husband. I cannot pray to a husband. A guru and a husband are two different people in my mind.

Then Kripalu showed up. The first day a girl from Fiji, who had moved to Canada, went to see him alone in his room. She came out of his room crying hysterically. Nothing about this made sense to me. I was thinking: What’s wrong with you? And I wasn’t the only one. Everyone present was thinking, what’s going on with her? Then another preacher, Diwakari, arrived on the scene and took her outside. 

I remembered Diwakari very well because one time we went to one of her programs. She did not like the way my brother played dhol (drum). She said it was affecting the way she concentrated. That woman’s face has stuck with me from that day. She took the girl out into the backyard to calm her down. After a long time, that poor girl finally settled down.

At that time, I also heard that a pretty lady who was very sweet and had a beautiful singing voice, and was also a great devotee, went to meet Kripalu. But she was pissed off by the time she came out from his bedroom. She immediately left the house, and we never saw her ever again, even though her family and mine had spent many years together as devotees.

The next day, my brother’s girlfriend was getting all worked up. 

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Gopeshwari wants me to take a shower and smell nice and meet Kripalu today.” 
“Okay, but why do you need to take a shower first?” It didn’t make sense. 
Later, she came out of his bedroom and was talking excitedly about how Kripalu showed her jannat (heaven). 

Karishma

This did not make any sense to me. I was thinking, what is happening there to these women? I felt completely out of my league.

The next morning, I was doing my morning chanting when I was called upstairs to Kripalu’s room by Gopeshwari. I haven’t freaked out so much in my entire life. I still remember that day and the events so clearly. I have gone through cancer, chemo, and radiation, and wished that this memory would be erased from my mind during those radical therapies. But no such luck. They are still there. So far, nothing has helped me forget the memories of my experience in that room alone with that man.

I arrive in the hallway near his bedroom. A nice lady from Yuba City who loved the guru was sitting there. I calmed down a little bit because I trusted her. She told me that Kripalu was doing his morning walk from one corner of the hall to another. I sat down and watched his feet while he walked. I could not look up at him. I had no idea what to think. 

I was given cloves to chew on. Why? My veil was taken from me. Why? What in the hell am I supposed to do in there with him? I wondered. My heart was pumping like crazy. I had been told that he was sent by God. He was going to show me the straight way to God. I am special, that is why I was picked to spend this special time with him.

Finally, Kripalu stopped walking and went into his room. After a while, I was called in by an Indian woman with short dark hair. I stood beside her, waiting for instructions. Kripalu was spread out on his bed. I was thinking, WTF are you guys going to do to me?

Then his assistant quietly dimmed the lights, closed the door, and went into the adjacent room.
Now, it was just Kripalu and me. 
What do I do? What am I supposed to do?

Karishma

He told me to come closer to him. I went. He leaned towards me and started kissing me. His tongue was in my mouth. Wtf? Wtf? Wtf? Why is his tongue in my mouth? Gross! I have no idea how to respond. I do not even know how to kiss that way. Then he comes closer and starts fondling my breasts. I was so freaking shocked, I couldn’t move. It was like I was separated from my own body. Then he shoved his hands down my panties and started rubbing my private parts. That’s when I saw his saggy old ass, balls, and penis. I freaked out to the max. I wanted nothing to do with his gross old penis or this entire disgusting experience. 

I leapt backwards, fixed my clothes, and ran the hell out of there. While still in shock, I had to drive back home with the same woman who had sent her daughter to India. 

She asked me, “Did you have one-on-one time with Kripalu?” 

I said, “Yeah.” I was shocked to see how happy she was about it. 

She said, “Yes, my daughter was also blessed like that in India. You’re super special.”

By this time, I’d been told a thousand times, “Do not tell anyone. It’s a special thing that only happens to special people.” 

What lies! The entire time he was there, I had seen numerous girls, even minors, go into his bedroom and come out all giddy.

After that experience, my life went on. I got married and had children. I blocked out the experience from my mind. But I still can’t forget it. It’s clear to me now that I’ll be traumatized for the rest of my life. It doesn’t help that my parents didn’t support me at all. In fact, they have abandoned me, my husband, and my three children. At first, my parents did not know about it. My brother knew what happened to his girlfriend, and he was okay with it. 

I tried to tell my grandparents about it.
But their attitude was, “You cannot talk about God that way.” 

Karishma

My calls started dropping whenever I brought up the topic. So, I quit bringing it up. No other females were talking about their experiences with Kripalu. Then, two years later, we were told that Kripalu was coming back to U.S., including the Bay Area. The day he was supposed to stay at the same home again is the day I ran away from mine. 

I continued to live my own life while raising my family—far away from JKP. Then I heard about the girls who were speaking out in Texas against Prakashanand. Then I began to hear more sex abuse stories about Kripalu. As I followed the stories, I found Rishika, reached out to her, and received moral support in return. I shared part of my story but wasn’t ready to face the whole truth. 

But from that point onward, I started slowly telling my mum about it. She did not believe me. We would fight about it. She would not talk to me for years. I told my dad about it, but guess what he said, “Kripalu is God. He is special.” 

I talked to my brother about it, but my experience fell on deaf ears. Every single time I visited, I would see all the pictures of them with my abuser, Kripalu, and his gang and get pissed off even more. It was like torture for me. I told them I do not want anything to do with this cult and don’t even want to hear anything about it.

This year, March 2017, was my dad’s sixtieth birthday. I was so excited to see everyone after such a long time. Just prior to that, my brother had started hanging out with a new preacher. I was told that she is not the same as Gopeshwari, and she does not have anything to do with all those past sex experiences. They visited the Austin temple for the first time with this new didi. I walked into the hall for the celebration, and guess who I found there? 

The same preacher who took that hysterical Canadian girl outside to calm her down after Kripalu molested her—Diwakari. 

Karishma

When I saw her, I started crying hysterically, because after exactly ten years this woman was standing right in front of me again. I didn’t want to create a scene because there were so many cousins, aunts, and uncles who I had not seen for so long. I forced myself to focus on my family while ignoring her. Then my mother told me to say “hi” and get prasad from her. 

Hell no! Not from a woman who supports a child molester by calming down one of his traumatized victims. Who knows what else she’s done? I pulled aside my mum and told her who she was. My mother responded by saying, “Oh, Karishma, it’s been so long. You should forget about it now.”

Seriously? How can anyone in their right mind forget something like that? It felt like my father, mother, and brother just rubbed my wounds raw again. It was a slap in my face. My brother had the nerve to tell me to keep the drama to myself until everyone leaves. Really? 

Divakari stayed close by my parents’ side during the entire event. My own children, who are teenagers now, saw everything and were disturbed that my own family members preferred this preacher over their own daughter. Then, my mother sent my family, including her three grandchildren, away without any food and water. She told us to go back home—a three-hour drive—because they did not want to deal with my drama. They have disrespected all of us.

Shockingly, my mother has her own Kripalu story that she keeps hidden. During his second trip to the states, she was invited to massage him along with several other women. While she was massaging his thigh, he grabbed her hands under the blanket and tried to bring it towards his groin. But she said she fought it and didn’t let it happen. I now wonder if that’s true. 

A friend of mine even tested my mother.
She asked her, “Is all this I’m hearing about Kripalu true?” 
My mother said, “No.”
So now I know she will lie and cannot be trusted.

Karishma

Even after her bedroom experience with Kripalu, her love for this cult is strong. In her view, I am the problem. To this day, my brother and parents still pray to him. To this day, they do not want anything to do with me, my husband, or my children (their grandchildren) because of this cult. They chose it over me, their only daughter. They would rather pretend a woman they don’t even know is their daughter. And Diwakari does not give a flip about my experience. She has her hooks into them, and that’s all she cares about.

People from JKP willfully break families apart to serve their own needs without any remorse—none whatsoever. Since my personal experience, I have warned every girl I know to stay far away from everyone in this group. I’ve told them that everyone will lie, including my own mother.

After so many years and so much pain, I am finally brave enough to speak out. With my husband’s and children’s full support, I will now fight to expose this evil cult until the day I die.

Share your story about your experience in JKP. 

Help expose the truth. 

You can stay anonymous.  

Contact me at RishikaXcult.com.

Learn more about Kripalu’s true history in
Sex God — The Secret Life of a Dark, Dark Guru

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