Vasu, or SriVasuji has he is known today looked around; he was the master of all that he surveyed indeed.
The journey took him about twenty-five years. When practising in the bye lanes of Bangalore, a north Indian Ayurvedic doctor, catering to the few north Indians there. They had not merged with the landscape yet, language was a barrier. If the superior southern English attitude scared the Hindi speaking north Indian, the manipulative power of the north Indian render the southie wary. Like all communities new comers are outsiders.
Today twenty years later he realized his hunch had paid. The high flying soft engineers and hot-shot MBA’s were in reality a cover for emotionally retarded individuals, with low self-esteem and high sense of inadequacy. They were looking of crutches to hold and someone to continue being a parent to them.
His follower’s largely outwardly successful people were not equipped to handle the rat-race or the office politics. Some experiencing shattered romantic ideals with grocery bills, extended families and work pressure taking the call. Pep talking parents were no longer sufficient, spouses carried their own crosses. Questions like why me pop up that’s when they turn to a Guru, or a try to walk to shrangrilla on quest to find the Shambala. It somehow sounded more acceptable than going to a psychiatrist.
Vasu was perfect in the sense, he had a doctors training so that made him acceptable with the academics.
He realized the need for having a Guru himself, to authenticate his presence. Hardwar seems lend itself more auras when to come to spirituality.
From there Vasu began his journey.