A foreign-born Jewish woman tells a travel agent that she wants to go to India. “I vant to go to India.”
“But Mrs. Cohen,” says the travel agent, “India is so hot, the food is so different, things are so primitive, with your high blood pressure you shouldn’t go. It is overcrowded, it smells, there is the plague, cholera, hepatitis, snakes, beasts of all kinds. You’ll get sick.”
“I vant to go to India.”
“All right,” says the travel agent, “if you insist.” So he books her for India. She arrives in Bangalore and asks to see the Guru. She enters the ashram and there she is greeted by a huge crowd all come to see the Guru. The Guru has numerous assistants who tell everyone that they’ll have to wait six hours in the heat and that then one must bow from the waist and then say only say three words to the Guru. So she waits, and waits in the heat and the crowd and no kosher food and no Jewish doctors. Finally, it is her turn. She goes into the inner sanctum of the Guru. She doesn’t bow down at all. She stands up straight, looks the Guru in the eye and says these three words: “Come home, Oiving.”
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