his is the third entry in a series dedicated to the memory of Moksha, a promising 12th-grade student whose young life tragically ended last year at Isha Home School. In this powerful piece, a former Isha member reflects on Moksha’s story and the unsettling question of why individuals, including himself, maintained faith in Sadhguru despite clear evidence of indifference and harm. He unveils another chilling account from Isha Home School, vividly illustrating the blind trust placed in Sadhguru even when children endured horrific experiences. This narrative compels us to critically examine the dynamics of cults and conditioning. We hope this article sparks crucial conversations and encourages others to share their experiences. If you wish to share your story anonymously, please reach out to us at rethink.sadhguru@proton.me. We are grateful to our friend for this deeply thought-provoking contribution.
A Former Devotee’s Unvarnished Testimony
I read the poignant story of the tragic loss of Moksha which was doing the rounds on WhatsApp a year ago. I also read the letter Moksha’s mom wrote—truly sensitive and heart-wrenching. And even at this time of immense loss, she did not lose her balance.
But honestly, why is this surprising? The Guru’s attitude, the seeming nonchalance and insensitivity? Who is responsible? Is it SJV? Or is it the misplaced trust and faith that people like me and you continue to place in Jaggi, despite the CLEAR WRITING ON THE WALL?
Let me share something.
This story goes back ten years or so. Told to me by her mom. The story of her young daughter, who was a student at Isha Home School, maybe class 8 or 9. She was a budding singer with a fab voice. A skilled dancer too. The Guru had a liking for her singing and dancing. She was a lead singer in the school band. A rising face of Isha.
But everything wasn’t rosy. On one of her visits, the mother noticed something strange. Her daughter wasn’t her exuberant self. She was tortured. Mentally scarred. With burn marks on her arms and hands. Burnt using a clothes iron.
This was reported to the Home School Principal—Bharthi Vardarajan, if I recall correctly—the second in command at Isha. With no real action taken, the parents pulled their daughter out of Home School.
Important to note: Even after all this, the love, devotion, and faith in the Guru never wavered. Not a bit. The Guru, according to her mom, was completely innocent. Like Caesar’s wife—beyond doubt.
They brought her home.
According to her mother: for the next two years, the girl was scarred. Cold sweats, disturbed sleep, fear of the dark, people, everything. She would follow her mother around the house, clinging to her saree. Like she was being chased by demons—psychological or otherwise. She was deeply scarred—psychologically and physically.
It took two years of intense psychological counselling and close supervision. Her recovery was painfully slow.
Eventually, things began to return to normal.
One day, around 9:30 PM, I got a sudden call from her parents. I’d been four years into the Isha ecosystem by then. Fairly familiar with it all. I had already done Samyama—which is treated like a badge of honour in Isha.
I remember—it was raining heavily. I took a taxi 15 km to their home. They asked me to move into their home for the next 7 days. They were flying to Coimbatore urgently—to see their daughter, who was at the Ashram. They needed someone to stay back and look after their dog. That’s it. By the time I reached, they were gone. I collected the house keys from the township gate. It was my first time at their home. Just me and their friendly dog. I noticed a Devi Yantra in their home. I settled in.
In the next two weeks, I started to piece things together. The daughter had fallen sick at the Ashram during her Hatha Teachers Training—vomiting blood constantly. She missed her classes, practices, and exams. It was do-or-die for her. Her mother flew in to support her. She pleaded with the Guru. Wrote to him, desperate for help. And strangely, the vomiting stopped. A miracle. Sadhguru’s grace. The Guru never fails his devotees. Faith restored. The girl cleared her exams and became a certified Hatha teacher from IYC. Big certificate. Signed by Kiran, aka Swami Devasatwa.
At this point, I only knew her mother. Met her during Guru Pooja training. Didn’t know the rest of the family. Not even the girl. But I stayed in touch. I became close to the family. When they went on short holidays, I’d be called in to babysit their dog. They knew I loved dogs. I was the trusted house-sitter.
Months passed.
One fine day, I was attending a 21-day Hatha program in the same city. She was the teacher. The last day arrived, and she shared her personal journey with Isha and her Guru. She recalled being terribly unwell during training. And how the Guru’s grace alone helped her get through.
She pointed to me—“XXXX Anna, thank you for your support.” I was embarrassed. I had barely played any role. Then I remembered: I was the one watching her dog and house when her parents were watching her, sick and broken, at the Ashram.
Strange, isn’t it? Despite what happened to her earlier at Isha, her parents still sent her back there. For teacher training.
Crazy? Misplaced faith? Deranged devotion? Cult programming?
Call it what you want. This is where you get a glimpse of cult conditioning: People ask Yamini and the US couple—whose children were raped or violated—“Why did you stay silent? Why send your second child after what happened to the first?”
Most people in Isha don’t get it. But sooner or later, we all pay the price for our stupidity.
It gets darker.
The girl took a leap of faith and signed up for Samyama. I think this was before Hatha training. On day one of Samyama, at Adiyogi Alayam, she had a fit. Collapsed. Frothing at the mouth (I may be fuzzy on details—apologies). She was wheeled out on a stretcher. One Swami—very close to the family—Swami Ulhasa—met the mother and said:
“She has unresolved psychological trauma. Take her away. She cannot continue Samyama.”
The mother responded: “Swami, this trauma came from Isha. This is Isha’s gift. This happened when she was a Home School student. She was abused. And Isha stayed silent.”
It shook the family.
You see—at Isha, completing Samyama is seen as the pinnacle. An ego trip. A subtle game. And we all play it in our minds.
Later, she completed her Hatha training. And took a second stab at Samyama. This time, she finished it.
So, yes—this was a potential Moksha-yagna. Averted. Because of her parents—especially her mother.
Isha? Played mute spectator. SJV and Bharthi Vardarajan? Passive bystanders. Could’ve gone the Moksha way. Didn’t.
Her mother and I shared a deep thirst for truth. We would exchange notes. She mentored me when I faced turbulence in Isha. It was a full-time commitment for me. My job, my actual source of income, became a part-time side gig. She supported me silently.
Later, I moved into Isha full-time. A couple of years in, I was exposed to several dark, irreconcilable truths. Known only to a select few from the inner circle. They’re coming out now.
Examples?
Yamini and the US couple’s stories—their children abused.
The naked initiation of Sanskriti students—revealed by Shyam Meera Singh.
Be Scofield’s exposes—part two may be coming.
Let me be clear—Bharthi knew all of this. And chose silence. How do I know? Because those who exposed things got quietly “bumped off.” After her last Samyama in 2015, Bharthi quietly exited after a big fight with SJV. All these signs were in plain sight. But I was blind. In 2019, I left Isha. Burdened by truths the world didn’t want to hear.
Some of my closest friends became Brahmacharis. I helped them transition. But once their paths were sealed, I exited. My heart couldn’t reconcile what I had seen.
Around then, the girl’s mother called me again. To check and validate some of what I knew. For the first time, she was open to facing the dark stuff. She wanted to hear it all. I spoke for two and a half hours. She was shaken. Deeply impacted. Maybe I shared too much. She had asked—but perhaps she wasn’t ready.
Shortly after, she cut all ties with me.
I won’t preach. I won’t pretend to offer the moral of the story. I don’t feel comfortable influencing anyone.
If you’re an Isha volunteer, or a parent considering Home School or Samskriti for your child—this is your call. You cannot ignore the darkness shared here.
If you’re an Isha volunteer still walking the path—please don’t let this shake your journey. Faith can’t thrive in a doubtful mind.
And please—stop attacking Yamini and the US couple. I don’t know them. I haven’t spoken to them. I have moved away from Isha. These stories? I already knew. And they trigger me.
Why did they stay silent? Because if they speak—too many lives, too many identities—will be destroyed. That’s the constraint. Mine too. That’s why I haven’t revealed the name of the Hatha teacher or her family.
The truth is dark. You have to be ready to meet it.
So now I come back to my first question—
Why are we surprised by the Guru’s attitude? By Isha’s indifference?
Who’s responsible? SJV? Or is it us—for placing blind faith despite the clear writing on the wall?
