For the Love of the Guru 4

The taxi arrived at the hotel, which was located in Divisoria, and the bespectacled young man disembarked. As he entered the hotel's lobby, he was met by two sannaysins, one male, one female, and three non-sannyasin members of the holy order. They greeted him warmly and some of the members of the welcoming committee looked at him with a certain degree of familiarity. They checked him in as Adaggio P. Conti and accompanied him to his room. They avoided talking about the order until the bellboy left.

"How are things going on here, Chela Kriya?" asked the new arrival as he closed the door behind the departing bellboy.

"Very bad, Chela Mahananda," the male sannyasin replied. "No new members. Our free seminars turn up zero attendance. There are fewer and fewer members attending our convocations. Many are going over to the Buddhists and Daoists."

"It's very bad indeed," concluded Mahananda, setting his bag on the bed to open it. "So, you have the weapon?"

He didn't bring any weapons, obviously, because he would be seized by airport officials if he did. Instead, it was arranged  that the ashram of Cagayan would provide the weapon.

One of the non-sannyasin members, an elderly individual, approached and dropped a handbag onto the bed. Mahananda opened it. Inside was a .45 cal. pistol and silencer. "We hope that you will be able to save us from the evil monster Eric Ong, Chela Mahananda," he said.

Mahananda pulled the gun out and inspected it as the non-sannyasin member continued, "We have constantly prayed, meditated and radiated over this gun. The Cosmic will strike down Eric Ong with this weapon and you will be the agent of its vengeance."

Mahananda inspected the two clips that came with the gun. "This is the only way we can show compassion to our enemy," he murmured.

Not far away, at the cathedral, Cardinal Zhang was in his office. The work for the day had been done and there was now plenty of free time. The cardinal thought, then, that some calligraphy, which was one of his passions, was in order. Accordingly, he took a large sheet of paper and set it on his desk together with his personal jade seal. He used this seal when doing watercolor paintings and calligraphy and, occasionally, when he wrote documents in Chinese.

He ground an ink stick on his inkstone and poured water to prepare the ink. Outside, in the garden behind the archbishop's office, Father Lorenzo Guevarra was heard with his violin playing Soirees a Saint Petersburg. He was usually there in the afternoons if he didn't have anything to do.

From the kitchen came Sister Catherine Hayashi with a tray bearing the cardinal's afternoon tea.

The cardinal thought for a moment, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Opening his eyes, he took his brush and dipped it into the ink and began to write. He was working on the word "Tian" (Heaven) when he suddenly made a mistake.

At the same time, Father Lorenzo hit a wrong note. At the same time, Sister Cathy tripped, spilling the tea.

"Oh my," she remarked, getting on her knees to clean the mess. "It's a good thing Cardinal Zhang's never seen this tea set before. I'll just get him the usual one, then."

Father Lorenzo stared at his violin, wondering how he came to hit that note.

The cardinal felt a strange chill. He shuddered. "Suddenly, I feel the approach of a murderous intent," he said to himself.

For the Love of the Guru 3

The young man picked his luggage from the conveyor and fell in line with the rest of the arrivals. As he approached the immigration booth, he handed his passport over to the officer in charge. It was mandatory for filipinos from the non-EOGC territories to bring their passports and pass through immigration. The EOGC was very suspicious of people coming in from the non-EOGC territories that it subjected them to international standard checks upon arrival. Once in, a non-EOGC Filipino was permitted to stay for thirty days. Any period longer required the issuance of the EOGC's very own visa.

The immigration officer took the passport and opened it. She read the name Adaggio Pineco Conti. "So, Mr. Conti," she asked pleasantly, "what brings you to the EOGC territories?"

"Oh, I'm here to perform," he replied with a smile. "It'll be at the Limketkai Atrium during the convention."

Indeed, Cagayan de Oro was hosting the All-Asian Businessmens' Convention. It would be a month long with numerous activities taking place in the city's malls, school campuses, parks and convention centers. Eric Ong himself would be delivering a keynote speech at the Limketkai Atrium and preside over several activities at his own Mindanao Financial Center.

She looked at him from head to toe. He seemed harmless enough: gray and red baseball cap, black jacket, while t-shirt, blue shorts, glasses and sneakers. He carried a backpack, a bag and what looked like a case for a musical instrument. Perhaps he was one of those contestants at the talent show that would be held at Limketkai in four days' time.

Satisfied, she stamped his passport and returned it to him. "Welcome to the City of Golden Friendship, sir," she said with a smile.

Adaggio P. Conti walked out of the arrivals area to the taxi lane. He would meet his contact in a designated hotel. Now he needed a taxi to get there. The clouds were gathering and a slight drizzle was to be expected. 

"What?!" shrieked the man in front of him. This man was screaming himself hoarse at his cellphone, complaining that his company's driver had not yet arrived. He looked like a corporate person; trench coat, briefcase and all. 

"What do you expect me to do?!" the man railed. "I gotta hurry! I don't wanna take a taxi. I-" he paused to listen for a few seconds.

"What am I gonna do?" he continued. "It's gonna rain here any moment!"

He slowly turned around. "I can't just call one of the janitorial vehicles; what do I look like to you, Maximilian Ong?"

The moment he turned to face Adaggio he shrieked again, this time startled. "S-s-s-s-sorry, sir," he mumbled. "I-i-i-i-i'll just take a taxi, okay?"

He leaped into the first cab that stopped by.

As a frightened Anselmo Sanchez slammed the back door of the taxi, told the driver to take him to his boarding house and breathed a sight of relief, a thought coursed through his mind. Was that who I thought it was?

He glanced around and saw the bespectacled man who was standing behind him take the next cab.

For the Love of the Guru 2

Getting to Cagayan would be a challenge. Sure, there were members of the holy order there, but they were a wavering lot. Eric Ong was once a member but he left. His son, Maximilian, had also joined, although he became a member independently of his father.

Mahananda learned that the younger Ong became successful and was now in an ashram in another part of the country. The father, on the other hand, became bent on destroying the holy order and worked in collusion with the city's resident Buddhists and Daoists as well as the Catholic Church to thin the order's ranks. 

Peter Cardinal Zhang Mingshi, the archbishop, was a friend of Eric Ong and committed his preaching against the holy order, denouncing it as a brainwashing cult. The Buddhists, too, didn't like the order. In their eyes, Swamiji had no right to do as he pleased because, as the city's Zen temple abbot claimed, being enlightened meant being more responsible and that true freedom didn't mean the freedom to do whatever one wanted. The Daoists despised the order and openly branded it as a money-making scam. What was most insidious was that they were even using former members against the holy order

Yes, coming to Cagayan would be a challenge. There were also the practical matters, such as the passport. Getting an EOGC passport for a person unknown in the controlled territories was impossible because every passport went through a check at every port of entry. The data in every passport was matched with the EOGC's massive database and consequently fakes could be spotted outright. A Philippine passport, then, would be required. It was easier to forge documents in the territories not under EOGC control.

A fake birth certificate was drawn up, along with other documents, as the holy order was very well-connected. The forgeries were necessary; after all, they were needed to accomplish a greater good: to eliminate the evil Eric Ong. With him out of the way, the cardinal, the Buddhists and Daoists would not be united and the order would be saved.

On the day the passport, procured through fraudulent documents, arrived, Chela Mahananda sang the praises of Swamiji, the cosmic and the masters. He now had a new identity. After picking up his luggage at the arrivals section in the airport, he handed his passport to the immigration officer. The officer opened the passport and read the name: Adaggio Pineco Conti.

For the Love of the Guru 1

"Only the guru can lead the sincere follower to God."

"The guru is that point on earth where God manifests."

"To attain God is to surrender to the guru."

"The guru has no ego."

"When you find the guru, serve him with total devotion."

"To love the guru is to experience true freedom."

"Only the guru has attained God, so it is only through him that God can be encountered."

The young sannyasin had already cast aside what had defined him. How long had it been? He had already forgotten. He had cast aside himself; he no longer knew who he once was. So much renunciation for someone so young; he didn't even remember how old he was. Even his name, he had forgotten. The only vestige of his past was his pair of glasses. These, he could not discard because their absence would hamper his eyesight.

Since the guru decreed that even keeping a diary was forbidden because living in the moment was more important that dwelling in the past, the sannyasin had already forgotten how long he had been in the ashram.

And as he surrendered his very identity, he experienced inexplicable bliss. His days were spent laboring in the most menial of tasks, swooning in happiness and bliss in his meditations and sitting as close as possible to the guru during the latter's satsangs. He even endured harsh words and treatment from the guru and the senior sannyasins.

Later, he graduated to collecting the donations from members who were not sannyasins, scolding errant members and even, treating those beneath him harshly in an effort to make them grow in love for the guru. As he progressed, he became one of the guru's trusted enforcers. He expelled those who fell short as those who were suspected of disloyalty. The guru could not be criticized. And even comments about his private life were dealt with harshly.

The sannyasin later, on the guru's orders or his own initiative, beat roughed up members -including other sannyasins further down the pecking order to help the grow, instill discipline and absolute obedience.

"If the guru tells you to steal, you must steal."

"If the guru tells you to kill, you must kill."

"The guru's morality is different from, and higher than, that of an ordinary human."

Yes, the guru was absolute. Swamiji, as he was called, made an announcement that Taijiquan was the property of the holy ashram. Therefore, those who wanted to learn in were prohibited from approaching any wushu instructor and required to come only to the ashramas.

Swamiji is absolute because he is God.

Because Swamiji is God, he can do whatever he wants.

If God is angry, Swamiji can save you.

If Swamiji is angry, not even God can save you.

Swamiji holds the key to liberation; you must trust only him.

A knock was heard on the door of the sannyasin's room. He stopped meditating and opened it. It was Pinkie, another sannyasin. That was a nickname that stuck.

"Chela," said Pinkie, "Swamiji wants to see you."

The sannyasin obediently stepped out, closed the door and followed Pinkie down the hall and up a flight of stairs to a room with a large door. Standing guard were two other sannyasins. Inside, one could make out the sounds of loud breathing, panting and moaning. One voice was a man's, the other, a woman's.

"Swamiji," said Pinkie in a subdued, somewhat pleading tone. "Chela Mahananda is here, as you requested."

Chela Mahananda... That was the new name Swamiji had given him. His old name had been cast aside for an unknown period of time.

The breathing and panting stopped. "Bring him in," said a raspy voice.

The door was opened and the sannyasin stepped into a large room that had a great canopied bed. Bottles of beer and gin lay on the floor; most were full while others still had their contents in them in varying degrees. Several pictures depicting Indian gurus with halos surrounding their heads. The room smelled of alcohol and highly pungent incense.

Chela Mahananda beheld a female sannyasin naked and lying face down on the bed. Like him, her head was shaved. Next to her, also naked and all covered in sweat, was seated the overweight figure of the master. He held a newly-lighted cigarette in his left hand while his right hand stroked the female sannyasi's bottom.

Chela Mahananda approached the bed, paid obeisance by putting his hands together as if in prayer and bowing his head and then sat on the floor

"Chela," said the master in a voice that reminded one of a duck's quacking. "You have proven yourself well. I remember how you helped that errant follower Padrino make his transition to a better life."

'Transition' was the ashram's way of saying 'death,' Indeed, Mahananda had helped several followers make transit already.

"Thank you, swamiji."

"Now, I have a new duty for you," the master continued. "You will go to Cagayan. There is someone outside our holy order whose transition must be made."

Cagayan. That place sounded familiar.

"He is the reason why Manila is a ghost town, with only a few people living in it. He destroyed many buildings. He has killed many people. He has destroyed the Philippines. He has insulted me, your beloved guru-"

That stung Chela Mahananda. His blood stirred and the thought of exterminating this horrid insignificant worm who dared tarnish his master's name welled up in him.

"And so, I tell you," said the master with his eyes fixed upward and his hands spread out. "You must send this evil man into transition so that in the next life, he shall have to work on the karma he has accumulated."

"I will send him through the cycle of death and rebirth to be reprimanded by the masters," declared Mahananda. "Who is this miserable wretch?"

The masted leaned to his left and picked up a brown envelope and tossed it to the floor.

Mahananda picked up the envelope and opened it. Out came a picture of Eric Ong.

"It shall be done, master."

The Bar Files 2.2

Anselmo and JT led the girls to a table, as sitting near the bartender was turning into a crowded affair. The conversation was getting warmer and it became necessary to find a place where there was more privacy. As the four of them were getting to know each other a little more intimately, Celine put her right hand on JT's left shoulder and her left hand on his chest. He, in turn, put his left arm around her waist. 

Liza wrapped herself around Anselmo's right arm. He, on the other hand, drew her close.

"So," asked Celine. "What does a lawyer do at night when he's not working on a case?"

"A lot of things," replied JT. "Sometimes I go out to meet people. It takes away a lot of the stress."

"What kind of people?"

"I don't know... Interesting people."

Their faces drew closer to each other. "Like me?" she asked.

"Yeah... like you..."

Their lips met.

"I've been working really hard to get where I am right now," said Anselmo. "And one day, I'll take my place among the great families that rule the EOGC."

The great families were the EOGC's rulers. There were fourteen families, collectively known as the Great Houses, that owned the EOGC's corporations an a host of lesser families, known as the Minor Houses, who worked in the upper management echelons of the corporations. And towering over the great and minor houses was the Ong family headed by Eric, the supreme ruler of the EOGC, the Taipan.

Even though becoming one of the minor houses was the objective of many working in the EOGC's member companies, holding on to such a position was harder than remaining in the lower levels because of the success-oriented system. What was unusual, however, was that a culture of intrigue was almost totally absent among the great families because being a sycophant was branded as a weakness by the EOGC. This same attitude even carried itself into the other non-member corporations that set up business in the EOGC Territories.

"Ooh, I hope you'll get there," said Liza. Her hand went down and her fingers lightly touched something.

Anselmo was a bit taken aback. "Hey, slow down," he said to her. He turned and noticed JT was already In Celine's face. It was dark in the bar and people were enjoying themselves either at drinks or waiting for the curtains on the stage to part.

"Oh, well, why not?" he remarked after a moment's pause and wrapped his arms around Liza.

A little kissing here, a little hugging there, he thought. Then it's off to somewhere private where no one can see us. Just the two of us.

His lips touched hers. His hands were wandering. Her hands were wandering. Sugar and spice and everything nice. he thought.

Images were going through his head... strawberry sundae... champagne... mochi cakes... hardboiled eggs... sausages...

Sausages?

Anselmo started. He looked down and saw what his hand had been touching.

JT and Celine were rather busy. JT's mouth came down to her neck while his right hand ran through her hair and... net?

Something fell off, or rather came off. Hair... net... Hair? Net? Hair + Net = ?

JT gaped incredulously. He lifted his hand and noticed that the wig was stuck in his fingers. Trembling, he turned to look at the hand, then to Celine, who was smiling sheepishly.

In a fright, he turned to Anselmo. The latter did the same. They looked around and saw strange sights.

Anselmo went pale. "Hey..." he mumbled. "Don't tell me this is a-"

Presently, the curtains came up on on the stage appeared a handsome, skimpily-dressed... man.

"A gay bar?" Cardinal Zhang asked, wide-eyed in disbelief as he set his teacup onto its saucer.

"Yes," said Lorenzo, matter-of-factly, and sipped his tea.

They were in the cardinal's office, doing overtime examination of the cathedral's accounts.

"You did try to warn them, did you?" asked the cardinal.

"Of course I did," replied Lorenzo irritably.

"Don't worry," said a voice.

The two turned to see Sister Catherine Hayashi, who was also seated at the table. Sister Cathy, as she was called, also worked with the archdiocese and was almost always seen smiling. In fact, almost nobody saw her not smiling but nobody seemed interested in annoying her.

"By this time, I'm sure they'll find out," she continued. She then sipped her tea.

The cardinal felt as if the room went dark and smoky balls of blue-white light were hovering about.

JT and Anselmo crashed out of the bar, shrieking. Blindly, they dashed out into the street. They ran into a convenience store, collected a lighter, mouthwash, toothpaste, toothbrushes and several bottles of gin and continued running and screaming in the direction of Cagayan River.

On Isla de Oro, long abandoned since the Takeover, at the water's edge, they stuffed their mouths with copious amounts of toothpaste and mouthwash, took their clothes off -making sure none of their valuables were in the pockets- and doused them in gin and set them alight. 

"We're going home after this, alright?" said JT

"Yeah," agreed Anselmo.

"We don't talk about this to anyone."

"Uh-huh."

So at the banks of the Cagayan river, at the water's edge, were two men in briefs who had just escaped from one of the most horrifying experiences in a straight man's life.

"Well," declared JT. "That's that."

"Yeah," agreed Anselmo. "Let's get out of here before somebody sees us."

"Where's the car?"

They had parked it near the bar's entrance.

The Bar Files 2.1

There was a new bar in town and Anselmo Sanchez wanted to try it out. It was called Club P and Anselmo rang up his friend the judge to join him.

It was late afternoon now, and office hours had just ended. Eagerly he grabbed his coat, which he habitually draped on his chair everyday, and his briefcase and stuffed the gold pocket watch into his right trouser pocket. He raced down the corridor and out into the parking lot, flicked out his car key, unlocked his car, hopped in and sped off. At his boarding house, he dropped his briefcase and coat onto his bed and hit the showers.

While he was in the shower room, the judge arrived on his motorcycle and waited patiently at the entrance of the boarding house. He was so eager to check the new bar out that he dressed for the occasion: a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and collar opened  to reveal his collarbones. The shirt was tucked into blue jeans and he wore a thick gold chain, which he bought in Saudi Arabia, around his neck.

Presently, Anselmo appeared. He was dressed up like the judge, except that his shirt was sky blue. He waved a hand as he approached the judge.

"So," asked JT, "Ready to party?"

"Let me get  something first," replied Anselmo. "I ran out of perfume. Don't worry, I'll just be at the convenience store. Won't take a minute."

The convenience store was just across the street. and Anselmo went straight in to buy a small, pocket-sized bottle of perfume. Immediately after he handed the cash over, he started applying the perfume on himself.

"Looks like you're in a hurry to go somewhere," said a familiar voice to his right.

Anselmo half-turned and saw the priest at the newsstand, folding a newspaper he had been reading.

"Aw, not you again," mumbled Anselmo, annoyed.

"Mind telling me where you're off to this time?" asked Lorenzo as he bent down and picked up a basket of canned soft drinks and junk food.

Several memories came back to Anselmo's mind: blanking out in different bars whenever he and JT ran into the priest. He tensed up.

"A new bar," replied Anselmo as the priest approached the counter to pay for his purchases, including the newspaper. "We're going over to check it out."

"And what might that bar be?"

"Ninety-five E-pesos, please," said the cashier.

The priest pulled out a SS1 bill from his wallet and handed it over.

"Club P," replied Anselmo as the cashier handed the priest his change while the priest thanked the cashier.

That name didn't seem likable to the priest. He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I don't think I'm going over there," he said. "And you'd better not either."

Anselmo breathed a sigh of relief. For once he won't be around! he thought  Yes!

Lorenzo leaned forward, frowning. "Don't go there." he said.

Who cares? Anselmo thought. He grinned and ran back to the judge.

They sped off in Anselmo's car as the priest stepped out of the convenience store and scowled.

"Hey, what's his problem?" JT asked, noticing the priest.

"No idea," Anselmo replied, his eyes on the road.

The place was loud. And bright. There were lots of lights and the music from inside was coming out. The two didn't waste any more time and walked in. Since it was the second day of opening, the entrance was free. And there were a lot of people around. Attendance was thick.

The two immediately sat down at the bar and ordered beer. Not long after that, two beautiful figures approached them.

"Ooh, what brings you here?" JT asked the one who sat at his left.

She smiled. "The company," she replied.

"Company?" asked JT. "Anyone with you?"

"Oh, just me and my friend over there-" she said, indicating with an upward nod to the one sitting next to Anselmo. "We were hoping to meet some other friends of our own."

"Is it okay if I join you?" JT asked. "By the way, my name's JT." He held out his hand,

"Celine," she said, holding out hers.

"Hi," said Anselmo to the one who settled at his right.

"Hey," she said to Anselmo.

"Want me to get you something?" asked Anselmo.

"I don't mind," she said with a smile.

Anselmo motioned for the bartender to bring another beer. "What's your name, by the way?" he asked as the bartender brought the beer. "Mine's Anselmo, or Al as my friends call me."

"Liza," she said.

"That's a really nice name," remarked Anselmo.

"So tell me about your work," said JT

"Well," said Celine. I work at a call center."

"EOGC or not?"

"Not," she replied.

"Which one?" asked JT. Indeed, since the Takeover, there were already twelve call centers operating in Cagayan de Oro. Ever since the Takeover, the city had become an IT, agricultural and financial center.

"It's a secret," she said with a smile. "How about you?" she asked. "Where do you work?"

JT smiled. "Can you take a guess?" he asked.

"Another call center?"

JT shook his head.

"Accountant?"

He shook his head again.

"Janitor?"

JT laughed. "No," he said. "That's a little bit far-fetched. I'm a lawyer."

"So what to you do?" Liza asked Anselmo.

"Well, I work at the Railroads Administration Office."

"Wow."

"And you?"

"Call center," she replied, "like my friend."

You Know You're From The EOGC Territories If...

Hi! Anselmo here! Another round of quick facts here, put in a way that's not so serious. Here's a list of characteristics about what typical EOGC people are like. I call it:

You Know You're From The EOGC Territories If...

1. You have two passports

2. You carry two types of currency

3. You have two birth certificates (but if you were born before the Takeover, you have a birth certificate and a protection certificate, which certifies you as an EOGC 'national' like me!)

4. You call non-EOGC Filipinos "pilferinos" or "pilferinians"

5. You hate election day ("It's a waste of time!!!")

6. You have memorized Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and sing it more often than the national anthem

7. You consider Beethoven's Ninth Symphony as your anthem

8. You love Cardinal Zhang -even if you're not a catholic

9. You love working overtime

10. You hate getting to work late (and you also hate it when people come to work late)

11. You take your work to the cafeteria (and eat while working)

12. You develop stomach trouble because you eat while working

13. Your favorite local finance magazine is Forex-E!

14. You want Tagalog speakers to speak in Visayan instead

15. You try to convince Tagalog speakers to speak in Visayan instead ("The Sri Vijayan Empire ruled over the Philippines and gave its name to the Visayas!")

16. You hate Rizal (because you're more familiar with Philippine history than most Filipinos)

17. You think Juan Luna ought to be the national hero instead of Rizal

18. You think Gajah Mada is a better candidate for national hero than Juan Luna

19. You ask, "EOGC pesos or Philippine Pesos?" if you're paying for something and the cashier just says, "Pesos"

20. You despise jueteng, cockfighting and masiao but you love to play bingo and buy lottery tickets

21. You have an EOGC Territories ID in addition to your passport and birth/protection certificate

22. You love (and fear) Eric Ong, even if you don't work in an EOGC member corporation

23. You're even more afraid of Maximilian Ong than his father

24. You drink basi or kahal if you can't find wine

25. You prefer wine to beer

26. You prefer tea to coffee

27. You can't make up your mind if you have to choose between wine and tea

28. You can't live without your mobile devices (laptop, cellphone, tablet, blackberry, etc.)

29. You are a certified anime and manga fan (and occasionally do cosplay)

30. You speak Chinese, Japanese or Korean as a third language (with the first and second being Visayan or Ilonggo and English and treat Tagalog as a fourth language)
31. You call the EOGC security forces "Janitors" and their special forces "Handymen"
32. You call tax collectors "self-glorified beggars"
33. You've spent at least two years learning a martial art before graduating from college
34. You own at least two bank accounts (I've got four!)
35. You own at least three cooperative accounts (I've got six!)
36. You think people who don't save money should be shot
37. You're a member of a money-savers' club
38. You hate anything that hints of "new age," "cult," "guru," "ascended master," "cosmic consciousness," "aquarian age," etc.
39. You're always looking for new investments for your money
40. You like the Spaniards (for the same reason as in number 16)
41. You believe in Feng Shui
42. Your favorite holidays are New Year, Chinese New Year, Holy Week, Christmas, August 28 (Cagayan de Oro City Fiesta,) the Mooncake Festival, July 22 (if you're an EOGC employee -it's Eric's birthday,) and Takeover Day