Rama looked at him suspiciously, when suddenly the phone rang. It was Dana. Rama told her that she was on the net, seeing as how she had called at so auspicious a moment. "So," he told her, "it's me, you, Mark, and Sal... " He paused and said, "Sure, Mark is on the net. He's quick like mercury. He's right there."
I realized it was less a network than it was Rama's net, but I was happy because the man I had once been friends with was back. I was also happy because my conflict-diffusing strategy seemed to be working.
The following morning, I greeted Rama.
He squinted his eyes and looked away.
"Is anything the matter?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," he answered, haughtily. "I know all about it."
"About what? I thought we were friends."
"Oh, sure," he replied. "I know all about that part of you. That's the part that wants to control me."
"Rama," I said, looking him squarely in the eye. "You have two very different sides. And I like the other one better."
In the weeks that followed, Rama mostly ignored me until he uprooted the four hundred or so disciples from southern California to the suburbs of Boston. At the last meeting in Beverly Hills, he called me to the stage, put his hand on my forehead, and said, "The Infinite is naming you Agni."