Dadi Janki Interview

Dadi Janki is eighty eight. She's old, she's unmarried and doesn't have any kids. Apart from this, she's penniless, she's short, she doesn't speak English and to cap it all, she has a full moustache. Not simply a few stray hairs in that area, (as many of us have), -hairs that could be bleached,- but a full, black moustache. Undisguisable.
In the normal run of things, Dadi Janki would be at the bottom of the ladder of status in our society. Given a choice, who wouldn't rather be young and beautiful than old and grey? In a world where youth and beauty are prized above all other things, most of us (male and female) will definitely dye our hair and will probably give in to Botox. So the very fact that Dadi has the audacity to sit here and be photographed for a newspaper without having made any effort to look glamorous must make her either senile and a bit touched, or totally eccentric.

To be old and wrinkly and on the way out, this is an inevitable part of life. Having no home of your own, no family and no finances will come in a close second, in the things to be avoided at all costs. As would be the moustache, for any normal woman.

Not for Dadi Janki.

As she sits here now, four foot nothing of her, in her white sari and beams at me, Dadi is unperturbed. In fact, she radiates a level of confidence associated only with small children and supermodels.

Speaking of supermodels, anyone who has been kissed by Kate Moss will attest to the fact that she is one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet. But despite the obvious differences between them, Dadi Janki looks equally beautiful, as she smiles at me. And there is something else, in her gaze. There is love. Pure, uncomplicated, love. It bypasses my intellect, my critical mind and travels straight to my heart, where it produces a flood of tears. In all my years of journalism, this is the first time an interviewee has made me cry, and she hasn't even started speaking yet.
Dadi Janki is one of the leaders of an organisation called the Brahma Kumaris. The BK's decribe themselves as a 'World Spiritual University'. Alarm bells ring, initially, when I come across any kind of a spiritual or religious organisation. For two reasons. The first being that attached to almost every religion, cult, sect, or what-have- you, there has been some kind of a scandal. Often involving child abuse, sex abuse, guns, suicide pacts and plain old financial corruption. You don't have to go very far in Ireland to come across someone with a horror story about the Catholic church, but stories are also told about Moonies, Scientologists, Hare Krishnas, Sai Baba, the list is endless.

The other reason why I am sceptical about gurus, religions and "cults" is because my own parents had an Indian guru, the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, who claimed to be enlightened. He may have been telling the truth, who knows? But he had a collection of ninety three Rolls Royces and he was eventually busted for tax evasion. A stockpile of weapons was found in his ashram and there was suspicion that certain members had attempted to assassinate the Attorney General, as well as poisoning the water supply in the Oregon region.

I recovered from this unfortunate start on the path to truth, to become enamoured of Sai Baba. I thought he looked like a cuddly toy, with his fluffy hair and he was supposedly making gold watches appear out of nowhere, rather than asking people to donate them to him. But a recent documentary claimed that he's a practicing paedophile. One wonders what it is about finding God that makes people behave so badly.

Regardless of the dangers, I am still curious about the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything and I am willing to try out the different spiritual paths and organisations, but I investigate them fully prepared to be kidnapped at any moment and asked to drink Kool Aid.

The cult of celebrity and the cults are closely linked. Rock stars and movie stars amass huge fortunes and get to buy all the clothes, cars and cosmetic surgery they want. And having done all that, quite often, they get bored with shopping and being photographed and they start to search for a deeper meaning to existence. John Lennon took the Beatles to India, at the height of their fame, to meet with a guru called Maharishi, and George subsequently became a life-long Krishna devotee. Madonna gives fortunes to the Kabbalists. Tom Cruise is a Scientologist, Richard Gere is a Buddhist. If you are famous, it's de rigeur to have a spiritual path. Which is why it's probably not strange that I should have encountered the Brahma Kumaris via a mega-star.

I met Robin Gibb, of the Bee Gees and his wife Dwina for the first time only a few weeks ago. I noticed that both of them were wearing a little red lapel pin, with a tiny diamond on, so I naturally enquired as to what it was. The tiny diamond represents the point of light that the BK's use as a focal point for their meditation. Robin went to see Dadi Janki when his brother Maurice died and she helped him to come to terms with the tragedy, so much so that he seems unnaturally philosophical about his loss. Dwina first met the BKs, -who have a retreat centre in Oxfordshire, quite near the Gibb house- when she organised a charity event at her home in Miami.

'I think they are living, walking angels on this earth,' she tells me. 'And I think they can help us to become angels too!" She was so impressed with the Dadis, who are the leaders of the organisation, that she began to get up at three o clock every morning to attend their meditations, a thing which gives her a sensation of having been plugged into the mains, she says. 'Undoubtedly I get added energy, what I can do in two hours in the mornings now would have taken me two days, before.'

When the couple are in Oxfordshire, she and Robin attend the retreat centre there. In the course of our conversations, I expressed an interest in meditation and in finding out more about the BKs, especially when she told me that the leaders of the organisation are all women. It turned out they offer a five day introductory course for free. Less than three days after our chat, I found myself on a train to Oxford, to begin the course. The friend who accompanied me to the train warned me to run away, if they tried to brainwash me, lock me up, or confiscate my mobile phone. I promised that I would.

Robin was preparing for a trip to Washington, to sing at the White House, when I arrived and Dwina was putting the finishing touches to a play. But they welcomed me warmly. And Dwina drove me to the BK centre, for my first lesson. As we cruised through the countryside and the chocolate box villages in her racing green jag with the roof down, I knew I was already in heaven and wondered idly what the Brahma Kumaris could possibly add to my experience.

We rolled up at a perfectly proportioned Palladian mansion, which King George the third had built for a mistress. And were ushered into a foyer, with a decidedly New Age feel. Purpley-lilac paintings of angels, delicate music, softly spoken ladies in long white dresses, pinned above the heart with what at first looked like nurses watches, but which turned out to be badges that said 'Om Shanti', which means 'I am peace,' in Sanskrit. Everyone wears white, at the BK centres. Luckily, I had purchased a white poncho, so I was suitably attired on top, at least.

A bespectacled Indian girl showed us upstairs to a green and gilt drawing room with bay windows and an ormulu mantel clock. We removed our shoes, left them outside and sat down comfortably, and the lesson began.

The basis of what the Brahma Kumaris teach is perhaps most similar to the teachings of the Buddhists, but it has echoes of almost every major religion. The central message is that we humans are miserable because we are entirely attached to and wrapped up in pursuits that are by their very nature transient and therefore incapable of giving us the security and happiness that we are seeking. Pursuits such as youth, beauty, money, power, sex and other people. All things that are slippery in the extreme. And when we can't get what we want, we get upset and we get angry and we behave badly and this creates negative experiences for us, in return. So if we take the focus off the transient stuff and turn our attention inwards, to connect with our spiritual selves, with our souls and with the creator, we discover the source of life and the unchanging, immortal aspect of ourselves. We experience deep and lasting peace, a feeling of being loved and looked after, a sense of oneness with all other beings, a feeling of compassion for other creatures. We begin to feel less afraid, less anxious, less greedy and less angry. We become nicer, happier people, and we lose the fear of getting old and wrinkly, which saves a fortune on face creams. We also stop needing to impress anyone else, in order to be loved.

The difficult part, of course, is putting this into practice. Me, Dwina and the girl all meditated quite blissfully and effortlessly together in the beautiful Georgian drawing room, with the peaceful, pleasant atmosphere. But I wondered if it would be as easy to stay serene in Oxford street when there's a tube strike.

The BKs have created an ideal atmosphere in order to maintain elevated consciousness. And for the whole week that I stayed, I felt relatively elevated, myself. Who wouldn't? I was looked after like royalty by the Gibbs, I stayed in a medieval mansion and drove around in a beautiful car (I was even allowed to drive the jag, myself). I ate delicious food, swam in the pool, went for walks and watched the bunny rabbits frolicking on the luscious lawns. The real test would, of course come when it was time for me to leave and go back to the real world.

I explained to Gopi, my teacher that I was feeling blissful on my retreat, I had even stopped wearing make-up and doing things to my hair. And I wore the same clothes every day. But I doubted that I would be able to maintain that peace of mind when I was once again confronted with women's magazines and skinny models. Gopi assured me that she too had negative thoughts, that she had once owned three wardrobes full of clothes. She felt that she could understand my wordliness. But Gopi doesn't read magazines or newspapers, doesn't drink, go to the cinema or watch television and always wears the white sari. So all of that is a thing of the past. She assured me that she's blissfully happy. I tried to imagine myself in her place. What would I do with all my clothes? Could I possibly not see the new Coen brothers movie, or Patti Smith? I wasn't at all convinced. But I promised to give the matter some thought.
Back in London, there was a tube strike on the morning that I was due to meet Dadi Janki, in Willesden. But God intervened. I called a cab firm, and got a cab within minutes. My driver said that people had been booking days in advance. Despite the traffic, we were only three minutes late for the appointment.

'Dadi' means elder sister and is a term that is used to describe all of the female leaders of the BKs, who joined the organisation as young girls in 1936. The original founder was a man known as Brahma Baba, who was a retired diamond merchant, who received a series of visions about the meaning of life. The information, -which forms the basis of the course which I was taught-, he chose to pass on through a group of women, who would take the teachings to the world. Today there are 3,500 branches in 70 countries, all teaching meditation courses for free and all existing as a result of voluntary contributions. Aside from this, the BKs have free hospitals and schools in India. But at no stage so far have I been asked for any money, at no stage has money been mentioned.

Because Dadi doesn't speak English, we converse through Sister Jayanti, who does. After I have dried my eyes and been given tea and biscuits, I ask if Dadi has any advice for the people who are worried about getting old and no longer being attractive. She waits a few moments, before answering. Sister Jayanti, who is softly spoken and sweet faced tells me that Dadi always likes to answer questions from her heart, which is why she waits to be inspired with an appropriate answer. And then Dadi begins to speak. Sister Jayanti translates.

'If I am walking around with wisdom and love and compassion in my heart, the attention of others is going to be drawn to this, that there is something special here!' she says.

I ponder this, and realise that it is true. I am attracted to her, even if she is not young, or conventionally pretty.

Okay, meditation works better than face creams, I agree. So what keeps people from turning to a spiritual life? Is it fear about the possibility of being indoctrinated into a cult?

'One can understand the conditions of the world, ' she responds, carefully. 'Because people don't have an awareness of the presence of God and because they are occupied with their activities, they don't give themselves time to reflect on spiritual matters, to be able to see what is the benefit. And there is a great fear of cults because there is a lot of bogus stuff going on. A lot of promises are made that are not kept. But for one's own self, it is a question of thinking deeply about spirituality and coming to an understanding from that space of knowledge. And also of experimenting, so that you can see the impact spirituality will have in your life.

When you do that, those around you will see that there is something beneficial and then they might be interested!"

When Dadi joined the Brahma, at the age of sixteen, in 1936, there was significant opposition from her family. It was not the done thing for an Indian girl to refuse to get married and have kids.

'But when they saw the results that it has brought in my own life and the work of the organisation, they changed their minds!' she assures me.

Did it take a lot of courage? I ask.

'Yes it did. There are twelve virtues that are important, courage is foremost. 'But once I start moving in the direction of what I know is right, I will be able to influence others in the right direction, instead of allowing myself to become weak.'
One question I have been dying to ask. Even though I suspect the answer will not be the one I want to hear.

Is it possible to do what you do and to not be celibate? She smiles broadly.
'The inner power that is required to do things in this way comes from celibacy. I need to replenish my inner stock of spiritual power. One of the factors is celibacy, but there are others, also. For instance, we get influenced by negativity. And it is my inner power that will influence people and situations around me. Let me have a life that is so good that I am able to influence others to also have a good life!"
Is she saying that you couldn't be a mother to children and have a spiritual life? I enquire.

'Absolutely you could be a mother,' she says. ' A mother is able to bring up her children even better with spirituality. In fact there is a huge benefit to families who practice meditation together, because the mother has the strength to cope with all the chaos of modern life. And when children meditate, their behaviour is much more tranquil and orderly.'

This confuses me. Because how can you be a mother and not have sex? It is explained that the mothers are already mothers before they come to join the BKs.
'When we first started this organisation, a number of women came with their children. I myself was given the task of looking after forty children so that their mothers could be free to study. I was twenty one, at the time!'

Being a woman, I figure, she must think women make better spiritual teachers than men?

'In the thirties, when we started, it was a conscious decision to put women in the role of spiritual leaders, because they hadn't been given that opportunity. But men are also very interested in spiritual teachings! So there is no desire to put one sector of society down.

I have one final question. The thing is, I want to be spiritual and still be rich, I say. Is it possible to have material success and still lead a spiritual life?
'If I give priority to my own spiritual development and create the right consciousness within, I won't have many desires!' she laughs. 'Human minds are normally troubled by desires, I want this and this and this and this....'

I nod agreement.

'When there are desires, they can never come to a conclusion. I will always want something else and I will never be full and content. When I am content on an inner level, if somebody says do you want anything, I will say no, I have everything I want.,' she assures me.

Even the Dalai Lama has a Rolex, I say. Supposing I were to come to you with a very expensive gift, such as a Rolls Royce, would you be able to accept it?
'It has happened,' Sister J says. 'People have brought expensive cars, and she has said 'I don't need it, you keep it!'

'I don't need anything for myself,' Dadi is adamant.

And she leans over and gives me a package.

'But I do have something for you,' she says.

There is a white silk scarf, in the package, and there is a book, she also offers me a sweet cake. I accept all of them, and it is time to leave.

On the bus home, I am assailed by advertisements for new kinds of cellulite cream, for hair products, for cars. As the bus crawls along Oxford street, the temperature inside reaches boiling point. I am no longer serene, but instead I am stressed. I take out the Dadi's book. In it, she advises me to become like a diamond.

'A perfect diamond is so strong that nothing ordinary can scratch it,' she writes. ' It is so radiant that light comes from it in every direction. It is so valuable that everyone wants to see it, yet so priceless that nobody can own it.'

And I wonder, as we crawl along, if it is possible for me to become a jewel, like the Dadi Janki, before I am old and wrinkly. It's worth a shot, I decide.

Brahma Kumaris Ireland is at 5 Leeson Park, Dublin 6, 01668 7480
www.bkwsu.com