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"The Muppet Movie?" I asked after another full day of postering. "Starring Kermit-the-Frog?" "Trust me," Atmananda replied. Trust was the bridge to Atmananda's world, a peculiar, improbable place where it snowed inside buildings in Manhattan in the spring, where invisible beings threatened a guru's mission by blowing up stoves, and where people were hunters or hunted or both.
"We're going to put up a lot of posters," I added. Atmananda said that we had done well but were forgetting something important. We looked at him expectantly. Then, in his Kermit-the-Frog voice, he said, "We're going to make millions of people happy." "Make millions of people happy," I echoed.
I took a few steps forward but quickly stopped cold. I could almost hear Rama saying in his Kermit-the-Frog voice, "Make millions of people happy." I stepped to where my room used to be when suddenly, superimposed over blackened concrete slabs, images appeared. Rama was in the kitchen cooking for a hundred spiritual seekers.
A Hollywood agent on a fishing trip strikes up a conversation with Kermit-the-Frog. The agent is impressed with him and suggests that he move west, to Hollywood. Though seemingly content in his East Coast swamp, Kermit is taken by the agent's prediction that, as a movie star, he could make millions of people happy. "Make millions of people happy," echoes the starry-eyed muppet.
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