I admit it: I’m a self-confessed Amma hug failure. Scarily policed, funnel, grubby boob, gravelly whisper. Again I basked in the community of lovely people, super-sparkly bright energy and hugely heart-expanding love love love that was buoyed up by music, friendly faces and fun. This time I went to Ally Pally in the morning rather than evening. I continued to hear ‘amazing!’, ‘so healing!’, ‘I want moooore!’, ‘I’ll never pass up an opportunity for a hug!’ and I questioned my experience. Not one to be defeated, I decided to try again three years later. No eye contact, no connection, just a very stressful and rather unpleasant experience. A boiled sweet wrapped in a rose petal was pushed into my palm, and I was shunted off to the side and instructed to collect my bag from a pile. A sculptor must insert every single hair on the head of her creation. All of these are the fruits of God, His beautieslovingly created with precision and detail so extreme it affects a hundred years. Very quickly, I was right in front of her, and before I could even smile with recognition, an assistant’s hand clutched the back of my head and thrust my face towards Amma’s white-clad breast which, thousands of faces later, was mucky with make-up and grime. I felt her arm fall across my back as she whispered what sounded like: ‘My daughter, my daughter, my daughter,’ in my ear. Each plant, flower, star, bug, rock, raindrop, grain of sand, wisp of wind. My handbag was slipped off my shoulder (‘No bags!’ I was admonished when I asked where it was going), my arms were pinned to my side with firm instructions not to touch, and I was prodded forward, urged to shuffle faster into a funnel of other shufflers, at the apex of which sat Amma. The group of white-robed assistants who were policing the process were strict about maintaining the efficiency of their well-oiled hug machine – fair enough, there were thousands of expectant people craving a cuddle.
Since she was uneducated, competing with the more philosophical gurus didnt take her very far.
By the time my darshan – or hugtime – swung around at 4am (yes, she goes on hugging all night, taking no toilet or tea breaks), I was as high as a kite on love.Īs I got closer to Amma, having shifted from a queue of chairs to now shuffling towards her on my knees, I started feeling stressed. Mata Amritanandamyi Math (aka Ammachi or simply 'Amma'), ran away from home at an early age and began learning the ropes of the guru business.
The Chinese can invent a robot that can hug and thus diminish the income of Amma. And I wasn’t disappointed – it was a joyful circus of music, long-lost friends and shiny new ones, stalls selling sweet Amma paraphernalia, yummy Indian snacks and chai. Often when hugging a person, Amma´s mind and attention is elsewhere, chatting with one of her slaves or answering another stupid question, but rarely does she give her whole hearted attention to the person hugged. I’d read so many accounts of emotional release, awakenings, epiphanies and deep healings, that by the time I arrived at London’s Alexandra Palace – where Amma used to visit every autumn (NB Sandown Park in 2017) – in 2009, I was primed for a spiritual showdown. Amma is not only known to people of India, but is known by much of the world.
Amma hugs full#
Expectation is a killer, and I was full of it when I first met Amma aka Amrita Anandamayi aka the hugging mother.