ABSTRACT
At the Delhi railway station, as I sat in Ashram Express on my way to Gujarat for fieldwork, I watched a middle-aged woman and a man on the platform. They were bidding goodbye and there was an air of intensity between them. Before she boarded the train, with tearful eyes, she bent down and touched his feet. I tried hard but could not figure out their relationship. She sat down opposite me and we began to chat. She told me that the man on the platform and she were disciples of the same guru. She smiled and added, ‘We are satsangīs.’ 1
