The Maharishi Mahesh Yogi with the Beatles. Photograph: Rex Features
"Don't waste people's time with a lot of words about my life," said the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who died yesterday, in 1975. "Encourage people to meditate."
Duly noted. However, just take time to give credit to Pattie Boyd. Because it was on her suggestion that the Beatles attended Mr Yogi's London appearance on his One Last Farewell Lecture Tour in August 1967.
With the quest for spiritual enlightenment about as popular as Property Ladder is now, the visit was perfectly timed. Having sated themselves on pop stardom, these modern day deities were duly bowled over by the tiny, giggling figure showering them with flowers. His promise of cosmic wellbeing via transcendental meditation seemed too good to resist, and they hastily agreed to spend the weekend with him in Bangor, Wales.
The rest, of course, we know (more or less). Cynthia Lennon missed the Mystical Express at Paddington, while Brian - tragically - chose an alternative way to spend the weekend. The whole sorry affair played itself out at the Maharishi's Rishikesh retreat in February 1968. Ringo Starr lasted 10 days, Paul McCartney and Jane Asher a further month. Amid (unfounded) rumours of sexual impropriety, the offer of salvation via asceticism suddenly paled.
"You're so cosmic, figure it out yourself!" were, apparently, Lennon's parting words as the final taxi arrived to take him from the Maharishi's compound.
Nonetheless, the Maharishi's role in British pop remains pivotal. The Beatles, having little else to do, wrote the bulk of the White Album during this period. Part of a generation, meanwhile, looked east of Norfolk for inspiration and developed their own "inner light", becoming anything from pony-tailed Floyd fan to suburban aromatherapist. Many even thought they could master yogic flying, usually after buying a packet of large Rizla's.
Not that the Maharishi himself did too badly out of the affair. At last count, he had a global network of 24 TV stations beaming the TM mantra into 144 countries.
"It seemed too good to be true," quipped McCartney later of the experience. "It probably was."
A groovy charlatan, or proof that mystical perception comes too slowly for egotistical Western minds hooked on the instant fix?
Now that really is something to think about.
