I was talking about my visits to school. Yes, I call them visits because they were certainly not attendance. I was only there to create some mischief. In a strange way I have always loved to be involved in some mischievous act. Perhaps it was the beginning of how I was to be for my whole life.
I have never taken anything seriously. I cannot, even now. Even at my own death I will, if allowed, still have a good laugh. But in India for the last twenty-five years I have had to play the role of a serious man. It has been my most difficult role, and the longest drawn. But I did it in such a way that although I have remained serious, I have never allowed anybody around me to be serious. That has kept me above water, otherwise those serious people are far more poisonous than snakes.
You can catch snakes, but serious people catch you. You have to run away from them as fast as possible. But I am fortunate that no serious person will even try to approach me. I quickly made myself notorious enough, and it all began when I was not even thinking where it was going to land me.
Whenever they saw me coming, everybody was alerted, as if I was going to create some danger. At least to them it must have looked dangerous. For me it was just fun – and that word summarizes my whole life.
For example, another incident from my primary school. I must have been in the last class, the fourth. They never failed me, for the simple reason that no teacher wanted me in his class again. Naturally, the only way to get rid of me was to pass me on to somebody else. At least for one whole year let him have the trouble too. That’s how they called me, “the trouble.” On my part I could not see what trouble I created for anybody.
I was going to give you an example. The station was two miles from my town and divides it from another small village called Cheechli, six miles away.
By the way, Cheechli was the birthplace of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. He never mentions it. There are reasons why he does not mention where he was born, because he belongs to the sudra class in India. Just to mention that you come from a certain village, certain caste, or profession – and Indians are very uncultured about that. They may just stop you on the road and ask you, “What is your caste?” Nobody thinks that this is an interference.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was born on the other side of the station, but because he is a sudra, he can neither mention the village – because it is a village of only sudras, the lowest caste in the Indian hierarchy – nor can he use his surname. That too will immediately reveal who he is.