Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

The guru who introduced Transcendental Meditation to the west died on 5 February aged 91. He's remembered by the renowned spiritual writer, a close friend for more than 20 years

Deepak Chopra
The Guardian
Dec 13, 2008

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

The guru who introduced Transcendental Meditation to the west died on 5 February aged 91. He's remembered by the renowned spiritual writer, a close friend for more than 20 years

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi started out as one kind of cultural curiosity - a lone Hindu monk who aimed to teach meditation to the world - and ended up as a different kind of cultural curiosity: the one-time guru to the Beatles. He came remarkably close to fulfilling his original intent. Millions of westerners learned Transcendental Meditation (TM), and a new word, 'mantra', was added to the English language. He survived long after the departure of the Fab Four, who decamped almost as soon as they sniffed the thin air of Maharishi's Himalayan retreat (excluding George Harrison, who turned into a genuine seeker and quiet ally).

Maharishi owed his survival to two things. He was sincerely a guru, a 'dispeller of darkness', who had the good of the world at heart, despite the wags who turned TM into the McDonald's of meditation and the caricatures that morphed his white-bearded image into a pop cliché. Sincerity would have served him little if Maharishi hadn't also been a gifted teacher of India's ancient tradition of Vedanta. Many visitors who came to gawk went away moved by both qualities.

Beginning in the mid-Eighties, I had the opportunity to know Maharishi as a friend. Whenever my medical practice permitted, I joined his inner circle. It wasn't necessary to be reverent in his presence. He made a point of not being seen as a religious figure but as a teacher of consciousness. Of the many memories I could offer, here is the most intense ... Maharishi had fallen mysteriously and gravely ill on a visit to India in 1991. My father, a prominent cardiologist in New Delhi, ordered him to be rushed to England for emergency care. Soon, I was standing outside the London Heart Hospital, watching an ambulance navigate the snarled traffic, sirens wailing.

Just before it arrived on the hospital's doorstep, one of the accompanying doctors ran up with the news that Maharishi had suddenly died. I rushed to the ambulance, picking up Maharishi's body - he was frail and light by this time - and carrying him in my arms through London traffic.

I laid him on the floor inside the hospital's doors and called for a cardio assist. Within minutes he was revived and rushed to intensive care on a respirator and fitted with a pacemaker that took over his heartbeat.

I became his primary caretaker during this crisis, tending to him personally at a private home outside London. It quickly became apparent that he was totally indifferent to his illness, and there was an astonishingly rapid recovery. The hospital expected lasting health problems, but there were apparently none. Within a few months Maharishi was back to his round-the-clock schedule - he rarely slept more than three or four hours a night. When I approached him one day to remind him to take his medications, he gave me a penetrating look. In it I read a message: 'Do you really think I am this body?' For me, that was a startling moment, a clue about what higher consciousness may actually be like.

As he saw himself, Maharishi knew that he had come tantalisingly close to changing the world, as close as any non-politician can who doesn't wage war. He held that humanity could be saved from destruction only by raising collective consciousness. In that sense he was the first person to talk about tipping points and critical mass. If enough people meditated and turned into peaceful citizens of the world, Maharishi believed, walls of ignorance and hatred would fall as decisively as the Berlin Wall. This was his core teaching in the post-Beatles phase of his long career before he died peacefully in seclusion in Holland, at the age of about 91, his following much shrunken, his optimism still intact.

https://amp.theguardian.com/music/2008/dec/14/deepak-chopra-remembers-maharishi-mahesh-yogi