“Did you go to see Amma?”

“Yes, I did.”

“What time did you go?”

“Almost midnight.”

“What time did you manage to see Amma? And what was your number?”

“My number was 20,000-plus. We finally saw Amma at about 4:30 a.m.”

“Wow, only four hours! How did you do that? My friend and his mother from Ipoh waited for almost ten hours. Their number was 11,000-plus and they only got her blessings at 9:30 the next morning.”

“You know what, listen… apparently numbers from 1,000 to 4,000 went missing. They said volunteers took them. But the volunteers were told they would get Amma’s blessings at the end. So one of them gave me some numbers.”

“I see…”

“But you know what I wasn’t happy about? I gave her a garland. Immediately her assistant removed it, brought it to the other side of the stage and there I saw them selling garlands for RM50. Even in the temple they would never do this. The flowers offered to the deity are often given back as prasadam.”

[Mind] Mental arithmetic triggered on: one garland = RM50. Sitting there for three hours, I observed that out of every ten people seeking blessings, seven or eight offered garlands.

“You know,” someone told me, “the last token issued was 55,000-plus.”

[Mind] Okay, round figure: say 70% of 55,000 brought garlands. Each resold at RM50. Count the numbers. Add the souvenir magazine: RM25. Advertisers? All big companies — easily cover printing costs. Production cost per book? RM2 at most. Print more, cost drops further. Sell at RM25.

For charity. For charity. People will definitely buy.

The echoes continue. Walking home that night, what did I see? Amma’s Cup. Amma’s T-shirt. Standard price RM20–30. Amma’s autobiography. The Lalitha Sahasranama. Many more things I can’t recall now.

For charity. For charity.

Marked up prices — people will definitely buy. The echoes in the head continues

[Mind] Another conversation with a friend from Ipoh. “Did you get something for your mother? They said there was free food.”

“I did, Akak. But it’s not free. I had to pay.”

“Yes, you pay for drinks. RM2 per hotel cup of coffee. But the food was free. Didn’t you go to the counter labeled Free Food?”

“I did, Akak. They told me RM2 per packet.”

“But the notice said Free Food.”

“Exactly.”

[Mind] Another scene. “Happy to be able to see her at last!”

“Yes, Akak! Even though it took ten hours?”

“Yes! Mission accomplished!”

“I’m happy for you then.” And yet another flashback: “But you know what I am not happy about…”

[Mind] Somewhere in the middle of all this, I remembered a voice from an American friend I met online. “Make sure you get her hug,” she told me.

“Why is that so important?” I asked.

“It’s a form of blessing,” she said. “You mean you need to be hugged to get the blessings? Just standing there, watching her hug someone else, gives you nothing?”

She insisted, “No, you must get the hug.”

Ironic, isn’t it? One waits ten hours and leaves happy. Another waits four and leaves unhappy. Both saw her. Both received blessings.

[Mind] Still, I can’t help thinking, thousands of people waiting through the night, some for ten hours or more, all for a hug that lasts less than a minute. And yet, for them, that one embrace is enough. Enough to call it a mission accomplished. Enough to make all the waiting worthwhile.

And me? Nothing. What am I trying to say here? Nothing too. Just writing what I saw and heard.

​In front of me now, a picture of Her Holiness Mata Amritanandamayi Devi, smiling back at me.