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Samskara Sam Archive

MARch 1995 to August 1996

The Buck Stops Here
by Atmadeva

Just for the information of the uninitiated, this is the saga of Samskara Sam and Samskara Samantha. The above mentioned are undercover operatives with Cult Bust Inc. and are seeking to release J.R. Rasagoullafella Jnr. from the clutches of a deeply mysterious organisation who seem to have a liking for the colour orange. Our two operatives have infiltrated the cult’s subterranean ‘Sadhana Dome’, where a vital clue is now directing them to the surface. Joining them in this endeavour are a). an itchy acrobat and minimitus-yogi, the nine year old Kamamaya Kid b). two disgruntled Cakra Balance Technicians RS & DSL Pluto c.) Unit Entity No.12, a robot wanted by the VSS for mishandling chilli’s and now thinly disguised as a pop up toaster. Their object: to attend the Ota-Yoga Wimfrey Show where J.R. Rasagoullafella Jnr. will be interviewed.

NB Sectorial Office Debt Update No.112: $213,567,940,492 (ie $71,189,313,497 per general margii)

This curious collection of outcasts tip-toed their way from the sadhana dome via a narrow doorway, over which there was an official looking sign: EMERGENCY EXIT: SDM GENERAL MARGIIS ONLY. Approximately twenty flights of concrete stairs led to a small trapdoor. Gingerly, Samskara Samantha led the way through and we found ourselves crowded into a tiny curtained space no higher than a Puja table. Several geriatric pets in wheelchairs observed us silently. On the floor was a tray of heavy duty burfi and we narrowly avoided standing in it before wolfing it down.

Unit entity No.12 whispered to one of the cats

‘What are you oldsters doing here?’

‘We are SDM pets taking on positive microvita via kiirtan to overcome our old age… there’s a DC going on out there you know.’ the cat named ‘FluffyFundamentalFactor’ replied

We then became aware of a snoring sound. Not just one person snoring, but hundreds, all snoring in unison. The Kamamaya Kid peeped out and saw a large furniture warehouse full of many many four poster beds. Lying snugly in each was a sleeping figure in pyjamas and night cap. On the wall of the warehouse was a large advertising billboard: ‘This SDM (Sleeping During Meditation) Dharma Cakra is brought to you by ‘Captain Snooze’.

Because these horizontal sadhakas were so engrossed in their activity we were able to exit the meditation hall unnoticed. In the lobby, above the shoe rack were several more official looking signs: NO CELLULAR PHONES BEYOND THIS POINT; PRODUCTION OF BIO-GAS IS PROHIBITED ON THESE PREMISES; TONGUE CLEANERS TO BE KEPT IN HOLSTERS AT ALL TIMES.

Outside we reaquainted ourselves with the surface world. It was early morning and the sun bent over backwards in an attempt to stick it’s smiling face through the mist. The streets were thick with yoghurt sellers making their deliveries Each balanced a ten gallon earthenware pot on their heads and gave us 1.4MB namaskars. Competition was cut throat in the yoghurt business. Stand over tactics were common and each entrepreneur would try and out do the other with an even more exotic flavour. For example, how about starting your day with a hallucinogenic whirl of zebra milk yoghurt or the epicurean polarities of Cat & Mouse blend milk yoghurt.

At this time, most general margiis were doing their yoga postures in small asana boutiques such as ‘The Shoulder Stand’ or ‘The Groove Gland’. Cakra Balance Technicians meanwhile, their tridents skewered with tahini balls headed were faxing their daily reports to Parama Purusa.

We tried to blend in with this scene, yet RS Pluto was concerned we should more actively disguise ourselves. Therefore, he suggested we make our way separately to the ‘Yogi’s R Us’ department store (outlets on 52 planets).

Inside the store we got our bearings:

Aisle 1: Vital Airs, Pop up Sadhana Mats, walk thru hologram pratiks, Mock Vegetarian Hippopotamus

Aisle 2: Chilli’s, Fire Extinguishers

Aisle 3: Tahini Balls, Laxatives,

Aisle 4: Do it yourself Initiation Kits, DIY Dharma Cakra Kits, DIY Baby Naming Ceremony Kits, Teach Yourself Fifth Lesson in three minutes Kit

Aisle 5: Automatic Shradha Ceremony Packs, Virtual Reality Personal Contact Kits

Aisle 6: Electric tongue cleaners, Cakra implants

Aisle 7: Clashed-Out-Margii Rejuvenation Juices, Levitation Antidotes, Wind-up Sadvipras

Aisle 8: Poor Margii’s Outfitters

Aisle 9: Rich Margii’s Outfitters.

YES! that was the place for us. Samantha Sam led the way with her AMPS Westpac credit card. Within a short space of time we were transformed into a huddle of Russian Mafiosi in snappy suits and pointy shoes (Unit Entity No.12 was converted into a golf buggy). In the space of just a few minutes, we became nouveau riche cult members exuding conspicuous consumption from every pore of our bodies.

Leaving the premises in a black Mercedes limousine with even blacker tinted windows it was almost impossible to see where we were going. The Kamamaya Kid, peered over the dashboard and zig zagged forward, dodging the potholes and small boys pelting the vehicle with cow dung.

The studios of MTV (margii TV) were situated in an inner city industrial area that was being increasingly yuppified. The premises were a converted shaving cream factory that had somehow gone out of business. We parked the car as inconspicuously as possible amongst a herd of dilapidated bajaj three wheelers. Two VSS strom troopers eyed us a little suspiciously as we hurried inside.

The show was just about to get under way before a packed audience of B and C-class margiis. Muzak Kiirtan dribbled away mindlessly in the background.

An announcement came over the PA: ‘Would the owner of a purple bajaj three wheeler, licence plate number BNK-007 please remove their nonsense vehicle from the southern limousine concourse… Ota-Yoga Wimfrey is about to arrive!’.

J.R. Rasagoullafella Jnr. was already on the stage flanked by his spiritual advisers: Cakra Balance Technicians No.’s 9,99, 999, and 9999 (Must be into numerology, thought Samskara Sam).

Rasagoullafella was clearly heavily brainwashed, his hair being a punkish fluorescent orange and his eyes gleaming like a pair of pratik’s spinning out of control. Senior would not be impressed

Then with a boisterous round of ‘Param Pita Baba Ki! - Jai’!, Ota-Yoga Wimfrey entered stage left and began the interview as cameras zoomed and panned around her.

‘Johnny Ray Rasagoullafella, Namaskar and welcome to the show’

‘Namaskar… It’s great to be here! Let me just say to all the viewers out there… how delighted I am to be here on your wonderful master unit’.

‘Johnny you know there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask you…

was there anything in your early childhood that you think led you to where you are today?’.

‘Well, you know Ota-Yoga… blah blah blah…

At this point the droning banality, the homogenised kitsch of daytime TV became all too much for Samskara Sam and he fell asleep. He dreamt. He dreamt he was a mushroom and a big black Mercedes driven by a punkish Cakra Balance Technician was trying to skewer him with a trident.

Suddenly his slumber was shattered by a several loud buzzing sounds. Something was dreadfully wrong! The stage was swarming with guys in stocking masks and yellow skivvies emblazoned with the letter ‘P’. They were zapping people with their pratiks. Ota-Yoga Wimfrey and Johnny Ray Rasagoullafella slumped unconscious into their chairs and a Che Guevara type took the microphone

‘Good afternoon viewers. We hereby declare that PROUTist Universal has assumed power in a bloodless coup. We are in total control of Margii TV, Sectorial Office, the Sadhana Dome, The Honeydrip Prasad Works, the VSS barracks and all other vital institutions. Resistance is futile. From this point onwards with a wealth ceiling of more than fifty rupees will be sent to a re-education camp forthwith. End of Message’.

Then he noticed us up the back, oozing our conspicuous consumption

‘Get em boys!’ he barked

Before we could so much as lift a finger about a dozen King-Sized ‘P’ men grabbed us from behind and were manhandling us onto the stage. Cameras beamed our arrest LIVE to all master units as we were publicly humiliated. Stripped of even the slightest extravagance, we were forced at pratik point to dress in drab yellow uniforms. The Kamamaya Kid’s parents (who just happened to be in the audience) pleaded for his release, but to no avail. Then we were shunted off to a blue and white Mazda school bus. Nearby, the two VSS guards who were only an hour ago a symbol of the old regime’s authority, were now handcuffed to a lamp post in their underwear. Ota-Yoga Wimfrey and Johnny Ray Rasagoullafella were also bundled into the bus and started to come around. Ota-Yoga’s career was finished thought Samskara Sam. Her limousine would be confiscated and she would never use her cordless microphone again. As for Rasagoullafella, his rich-boy past had not been sublimated enough by meditation practice. Bad habits remained and he was paying dearly for them now.

What will the PROUTIST revolution mean for citizens on the master unit? How will our protagonists adjust to life in the re-education camp? And finally, will the co-habitation of Rasagoullafella and two cult-busting operatives assist the de-programming of the cult-napped youngster?

NB Sectorial Office Debt Update No.113: $215,603,266,999 (ie $71,867,755,666 per general margii)

Episode 5