Not All That Glitters Is God

It was getting toward the end of my stay in Tiru in 2018. I didn’t know how long I would stay, it was only ever going to be a short, sharp trip. I knew the place was unusual, but I had no idea about the deeper connection I had to it until many years later.

I was staying at an Airbnb, and for most of my time there, I thought I was the only one around. But one morning I came home and found a guy sitting on the couch in the main area.

I said, “Man, I’m sorry I didn’t realise anyone else was here. I hope I wasn’t too loud.”

He laughed and said, “It’s all good.”

We started chatting about our lives, what we were doing here. He told me he’d just purchased a farm.

“Oh yeah?” I said.

He asked if I wanted to catch up for dinner. I said sure. He mentioned he’d be moving out soon, heading to the farm, it had a house on it.

That night, I waited at the chai shop opposite Ramana Ashram.

We’d arranged to meet at 7 p.m. He showed up on a motorbike and I was instantly captivated by it. A Royal Enfield.

He said he’d bought it off someone just the other week.

He asked if I wanted to take it for a spin.

I told him I didn’t really know how to ride.

He offered to show me over the next few days.

I said sure.

We went out for dinner. Chill enough at first.

But things started to shift.

Over the meal, he casually mentioned his powerful guru and started telling me stories.

The kind that hinted at siddhis. Mystical powers.

I wasn’t all that impressed. I’d had my own experiences, too though I didn’t reveal that.

Then he said something that made my entire being recoil.

He told me that his guru was a 7th stage realised being and that Ramana Maharshi and Buddha were only 6th stage.

Instantly, I knew it was absolute fucking nonsense.

There are no levels to the Absolute.

The Truth is the Truth.

It cannot be ranked or tiered.

The moment you try, you’ve missed it entirely.

I took note of that conversation. Quietly.

He told me a story about a retreat he’d done with this guru. Said he was sitting there one day thinking, this guy doesn’t have power he’s a fraud. Moments later, the guru walked past, turned to look at him, and did something, some kind of occult gesture and he said he began twisting in pain. That he submitted from that moment onward.

I believed that he’d had that experience.

But just because someone has siddhis that doesn’t mean they’re rooted in truth.

In fact, it’s usually the opposite.

We hung out a few more times over the next few days.

Over lunch one afternoon, I told him I was thinking about heading to Puttaparthi.

“Why?” he asked. "Well… Sathya Sai Baba came to me in a dream,” I said. “It felt important.”

He frowned. “Dreams don’t really mean anything. You probably shouldn’t waste your time.”

Another red flag.

I’d come all the way to India, partly because of that dream.

And here he was, trying to push me away from my own intuition.

I saw what was happening. He was trying to butter me up. But I could see right through it.

Later that day, I came home and met an older couple in the Airbnb.

They were Irish, warm and open.

The man told me he’d worked at Carlton United Breweries back in Australia.

We had a good laugh, talking about the country and sharing stories.

The next morning, I met the strange unit again for breakfast. We walked into a café in Tiru and the Irish couple were there.

Smiling, they said to me,

“Have you booked your ticket to Puttaparthi?”

He turned sharply. “Leaving?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

He didn’t hide his disappointment. But I wasn’t falling for his bullshit.

The final time we caught up, he invited me to check out the farm. I agreed.

He picked me up on the Enfield, and off we went.

When we arrived, the place was quiet and remote, open paddocks, farmland, rundown buildings. It needed a lot of work. He told me he was going to set up accommodation, a shrine to his guru, all of it.

He took me inside and showed me the shrine.

The moment I saw the photo of this man something in me sounded the alarm.

A deep feeling of dread. Danger.

This ugly-looking guy? He didn’t resonate at all.

In fact, my whole body said: No.

We spent the evening on the rooftop, looking at Arunachala.

Then I asked to go home. He dropped me off.

By this point, he knew I was leaving for Puttaparthi.

I turned to thank him for the ride and say goodbye but he’d already floored the motorcycle and taken off.

I went upstairs, lay down on my bed, and opened my phone.

Something in me just needed to know.

I googled the name of his guru and what came up shocked me.

Story after story. Abuse. Manipulation. Disturbing claims and all kinds of darkness swirling around his so-called lineage.

My whole body went cold.

My intuition had been dead-on.

I called my mate N straight away. Told him the whole story.

While we were on the phone, he googled the name too and he had the same reaction. “Bro… this is crazy,” he said. “What the fuck?”

We both just sat with it for a moment. The confirmation. The clarity.

Never, ever go against your intuition.

Let it guide you especially when something doesn’t feel right.

It’s like a muscle. Over time, it grows stronger. And one day, you’ll be able to rely on it fully in any situation, no matter how uncertain.

It’s a quiet feeling. Subtle. But it knows.

Keep listening.