"Jasper" is a former devoted devotee of Prem Rawat's with a decades long service to Rawat. This service was mainly as a chauffeur and providing free labour and expertise at Rawat's Malibu mansion. He had a long personal contact with Rawat and his wife and helped her set up the garden at her Malibu Beach "cottage." He reports that Marolyn Rawat now also has an alcohol abuse problem. His disillusionment really began to grow one night when Rawat got off his plane completely drunk.
15th August 2009 - Brief look from the other side.
Abouut 6 years ago I was at a 3 day program with the standard 2 a day satsangs, plus various meetings in between. One of the meetings I was to attend, was by invitation only, with a circulated buzz that Rawat just might surprise us all and grace us with his presence. There were about 100 or so elite class premies granted this highly special and privileged opportunity. The night before I was particularly honored by being asked by a superior if I would share a few words about my experience of Knowledge and Maharaji in front of the group. I distinctly remember the strange mix of thoughts and feelings that immediately began to churn around inside of me; pride, fear, disbelief, wonder, more fear. At the same time I remember hearing myself, the "Good premie", spout out, "Yes glad to do it!" Apparently after years of being considered too incompetent to speak publicly, Rawat had lifted the ban, and was going to allow selected premies the rare chance to share a few words under specially controlled circumstances. That night I went through a bit of a struggle trying not to think about what I would say the next day. Mind would not be needed or desired. This was a surefire time to just trust in the grace. Don't think I actually slept at all.
meeting began with a couple of warm up videos then suddenly I was asked, without much introduction, to step up and say a few words. In a semi-trance like state, while trying to remain absorbed in my own breathing, I walked up to the podium and looked out at the group. The feeling was incredible. I had done a good bit of public speaking through my work, but never had I seen such an attentive group. As I began to speak, they literally hung on to every word, jesture, expression, and inflection. If I laughed, they laughed. If I swayed to the left, they followed. If I frowned, they did the same. Didn't matter so much WHAT I said. It was more like there was an unspoken idea that I was up there as Maharaji's specially selected agent and therefore was appointed to transmit or channel his wishes to the group. No one wanted to take the chance they would miss out on collecting a few more credits or poker chips towards enlightenment. They/we had all obviously been highly trained and conditioned to sit there and somehow just melt into putty that could be molded by the speaker. It was absolutely incredible. I will never forget the exhilarating experience of power that was available to me at that moment, supplied by the full submission and concentration of that group of 100. In case you're still wondering, no, he did not show up that time.
The content of my speech was pretty simple but received rave reviews and high fives for months. Some premies said it was one of the best they had heard. It went something like this; " Ha Ha Ha I'm such an IDIOT! and oh my God, Maharaji is sooooooo PERFECT! Boy do I ever need his grace. I'm going to really try to be a really GOOD premie so I don't get left behind! and you should probably all do the same. Thank you."
A couple of years later I was at a twilight "Expressions" program in the amphitheater at Amaroo. As a reminder, that's where premie after premie gets their hands on a microphone and gushes all over the rest of us about just how much they need and appreciate Rawat, and how much his gift has blah blah blah… Personally I really could not stand these types of programs. But on this night I was sitting close and got a good look at Rawat as he sat and literally fed off of one premie after another, while the microphone was delicately passed around. As I watched him, I thought back to that feeling I had in front of that relatively small group of premies, and connected the two with a pretty profound understanding of what it must be like for him to sit up there, especially knowing the kind of person he really is. He must be experiencing some vampire-like transfusion of other's souls with an absolutely intoxicating effect. He's probably more addicted to that experience than we ever were to the hypnotic trance-like state of satsang. Besides needing an endless fresh supply of expensive material objects, and the glamor of having lots of money, I'll bet he NEEDS a regular feeding from premies at programs, just to get a satisfying fix.
10th August 2009 - ..and now what are your comments on the 14 objections
Then of course he had his girlfriend waiting for him, neatly set up in a just far enough away neighboring house for the week. We weren't supposed to notice that, and I guess if we did, it was understood that it was OK because he's just perfect, right? If you really are perfect, then permission is automatically granted to do anything you want. Perfect is above accountability. Sadly I was staying at the guest house at his Malibu family home shortly after and saw his wife, Marolyn. She was drunk too, and behaving not very Holy Mother-like at the time. Funny thing, I just felt kind of bad for her, in that maybe she had been fooled the most of all.
The point is, how does any of that align with ANY of his ever changing brand remakes; Lord of the Universe, Perfect Master, Teacher, Millenium Man, Humanitarian, Benefactor? They all by definition, contain some degree of moral fabric and decency. Maybe that's what he was laughing about; that he has fooled so many of us, in so many ways, for so long. Well, right now, I'm feeling the jokes on him.
18th February 2010 - Rawat's Delusional World
In Rawat's World, he should have anything he wants at any time and at any cost. When Rawat sees something or imagines something, he simultaneously believes it should be his to own or control. That's the way God would have it and that's the way he believes it should be. God-like thinking and God-like power come naturally to Rawat. It feels good when the world responds correctly and accommodates his every desire. It feels good to be God.
Everything and everybody in Rawat's world is only there to serve him and his desires. People are not real. Instead they are functional props that only have value when providing fulfillment of his wishes. If they comply and provide benefit, they can stay. If not, they are disposed of quickly and shuffled off the stage. It was their fault anyway for being defective. There is no second thought or even a twinge of regret. There is no compassion, love, kindness, or understanding. Those are just magical words that when said with a tricky hypnotic voice, can trap vulnerable prey who might just provide for him in some interesting or exciting way.
He lives in a walled fortress on top of a hill with a panoramic ocean view. Its safe and patrolled by toy guards who protect and sustain the comfort of his personal security. Everything is right there; theater, studio, offices, food, accommodations, communications, various modes of transport, staff, servants, family, guests, etc. All the essentials. If anything else is needed it arrives upon request. When it seems necessary to appear before the ignorant but adoring masses, he weighs the effort required relative to his anticipated gain. They are the ones who really benefit from the privilege. He doesn't have to go at all.
The entire world is accessible via helicopter to the ever ready and waiting G550. He can fly the plane himself if he likes, or have the crew handle it all while he cavorts with his mistress, sips Campari, and nibbles on fresh shrimp. The departures are complete with waving devoted admirers. The arrival is the same only the faces are slightly changed. There are meticulously prepared houses or suites all set up just the way he likes. More cars, toys, and items of interest. Then there is that special time when he gets to show them how powerful he is. That's when he climbs back up on his rightful throne and dutifully repeats the standard script, while throwing in a good solid performance to feel proud of later. Its kind of a game to see how well he can captivate those plastic smiling faces. It feels good to become the single focus of attention for thousands of them all at once. They'll listen all right.
Sometimes there are nasty things that have to be done. It can be hard work to keep it all in place. And there are always some pestilent vermin who try to infest his world. Some of those can be troublesome. Why can't they see how special he is? No one really understands how hard it is to have to always be the one in charge. He really does deserves anything he wants just for being so tolerant. But it doesn't really matter at all. No one can hurt you when you are God.
19th September 2010 - Servitude
Service: n 1: the occupation of a servant. 2: Help, benefit. 3: the act, fact, or means of serving.
Servitude: n: Slavery, Bondage
At least once a year for about 25 years, I would make a pilgrimage to the Malibu residence to do service. Of course to me, it was an opportunity to engage in a selfless effort to contribute in a very personal way. It was for the benefit of my Master and to help him with his important greater purpose of serving all of humanity. Direct service was the single highest application of the special abilities and talents that God had given me. No other activity could have possibly carried a higher significance. During those special visits, I was completely aligned with my natural purpose, and I intently fulfilled my tasks to the best of my ability.
I'd work hard doing extremely strenuous and difficult manual labor without hesitation and to the limits of my physical capability. All expenses were completely paid for out of my own pocket. I'd ship special tools and equipment thousands of miles to be adequately prepared for a perfectly successful outcome. Sometimes I would bring paid employees who were kept in the dark about who the owner of the property really was. Rawat was hidden behind the explanation that the "client" needed to remain anonymous for security purposes. Other premies who were there for similar but separate service projects would approach their specific jobs with the same conviction and abandon. It was about doing our small part to serve as true devotees should. Understood was the idea that humility would be gained along with an enriched and well earned measure of spiritual growth. There was no expectation that thanks would be offered or was even necessary. This was selfless service. It was equal to the deepest state of meditation where one could dissolve into the fabric of creation and become one with God himself. Direct service was beyond personal identity, but somehow Rawat would intuitively know the purity of my intentions and how diligent was my effort. He would know and only he could judge.
The last time I had plans to go back to the residence, was just a couple of years ago. As I tried to confirm the plans a few days before the trip, I had to back out due to an absolutely unavoidable conflict. It would be quite some time before I would be able to reschedule the trip. I did not want to let my Master down or miss the opportunity, and felt a good bit of anxiety over calling to cancel. I finally gathered up the courage and phoned my contact at the residence to offer an explanation and an apology. As my words graciously expressed sincere regrets, I remember expecting an understanding response and even support for the difficult situation that prevented me from going. Instead there was a long pause from the listener, as the impact of my message was absorbed. I could tell careful consideration was being given to what this really meant to Rawat and others at the residence. As the silence became almost deafening a response was finally offered; "so, if you can't come out here, that means we'll have to pay somebody to do the job. That's going to be awfully expensive and make it harder on the family! When you come and do the job, its free."
It took quite a while for the full impact to sink in. But as I thought about it, along with some other experiences I'd had with Rawat, the truth about what was spoken became hard to deny. It may have been a full year before I really let it be understood. It was easier to deny what I had heard than to acknowledge the brutal meaning of those words. But there it was, clear as a bell….. All those decades of service, which in my mind were a spiritual expression and the highest connection to my Master and to God, was nothing more than free work to Rawat. And if I couldn't do it, he'd have to pay someone else real money instead. The definition of servitude shown above only has two words listed in the dictionary; slavery and bondage. Perhaps these words more closely describe Rawat's idea of "service". To him, service is just another technique to manipulate his victims through deceit and lies to get what he wants. Rawat could care less about our spiritual growth. He just wants what he wants, and doesn't care what its costs anybody else. Premies are like slaves who are bound by his control and are only there to provide for him as he so desires. Serving Rawat is nothing more than slavery and bondage to him.
22nd October 2010 - Begging For Maharaji
There was regular monthly budget money which premies had pledged and were supposed to send to Elan Vital to cover "operating expenses". These were mostly explained as costs necessary to support Rawat's work and included the plane, Rawat's travel expenses, and the rest of the EVI budget. The calls were explained as simply a friendly reminder to send in regular pledge amounts at a minimum, and more money if at all possible. Then there was a constant stream of special projects to pay for Rawat's Malibu residence, a variety of upgrades, Amaroo expansions, new helicopters, several new planes, birthday presents, audio or video equipment, new cars, land expansions, or other grand necessities. It was always explained that the U.S. premies, and especially the major donor group, had the great fortune and honor of being asked to financially support Rawat's work for the rest of the world.
During one era, I was instructed to carefully explain that premies should send half of their monthly donations to Rawat personally, and the other half to the organization. This was to clear up any confusion about how premies should be distributing their donations. There was a capital campaign to purchase land that I particularly remember. Rawat wanted to purchase all the land surrounding the original Malibu house for security purposes and to obtain access for public utilities. His vision included constructing a family compound where he could build separate living quarters for all his kids including Wadi's horses. I was sent out with a prepared slide show and script to meet with small groups of premies to explain why Rawat needed a zillion dollars to buy all this property. It was graphically and boldly presented to a targeted group of donors to solicit funds specifically for land to expand Rawat's mansion.
I don't recall feeling particularly guilty about any of it because I thought I was doing special service to the lord. I tried to see it as a privilege. It was usually quite uncomfortable making those calls, and at times I absolutely hated doing it. But, as the good disciplined premie that I was, I would persevere and diligently plow my way through the list. Any thoughts of regret, remorse, or guilt were stuffed deep inside myself in that secret place where I had learned to hide all my feelings and emotions. The door to that secret place was then tightly sealed shut with a liberal dose of meditation and reinforced with active conditioning through satsang or more service.
16th December 2010 - The Boxster
"Doesn't Rawat live in a bubble? A completely different type of bubble where his wealth and servants keep normal life at bay or at least normal human beings at bay. How does he spend his time when he's not working, when he's not playing the role of Miragee?" Ocker
After thinking about this question, I really couldn't remember Rawat actually doing anything that could be considered productive or of real value. Mostly he would just pontificate, express his grand opinions, or bark out orders to fulfill his never ending self indulgent demands. This of course kept lots of premies very busy, all in the name of direct service. It was easy to justify any activity as critically important if it was to satisfy a request from Rawat, no matter what the actual substance was. Ocker's question made me recall the story below, which describes what it was like to be personally involved in service to Rawat. Repeat this type of event over and over again, and it provides some insight into what its like on the inside of Rawat's complex and dramatic world.
In late 1996 and with great anticipation among sports car enthusiasts, Porsche came out with a new model called the Boxster. Rawat just had to have one. Of course in his usual obsessive style, Rawat's Boxster had to be exactly the way he wanted it. The car was in high demand at the time, and special custom orders were particularly hard to get. Dealers only had so many allocated for delivery and orders were backed up for months. I just happened to have a close friend who was a Porsche dealer and word got back to Rawat that I just might be able to pull a few strings and get him one. I was asked to see what I could do and instructed to do or say whatever it would take to quickly secure a car. That was just the beginning of what became one of the most horrifying experiences of my premie career.
I called my dealer friend and persuaded him to bump some other guy's order and put Rawat's car at the top of the list. With a feeling of great joy and accomplishment I reported back that the car was secured and ready to be modified however Rawat so pleased. It would then take about 3 months for delivery. The thrill of direct service in such an important and personal way was almost overwhelming. I found myself on the front lines of a chain of command to satisfy a special request of my Master. All that mattered was that he would be pleased.
The way the process worked was pretty complicated. Apparently Rawat would sit in his office and thumb through catalogs studying various options that were available for the car. He would then select those he wanted and tell the residence staff and his personal secretary. This information was then passed on to a designated premie who became my contact. That premie would call me with the details about Rawat's specific requests. I would notify the dealer and let him know what options were to be added to the car. At first this process went relatively smoothly. Then, as options were added or deleted as Rawat repeatedly changed his mind, all hell began to break loose.
After half a dozen reorders, it became pretty clear that Rawat just couldn't make up his mind, or the options he wanted added to the car just weren't available. On top of that, each time he wanted to add an option, he insisted that the price didn't go up. Of course the idea of negotiating the price on a special order car with a waiting list, totally baffled the dealer. This was a seller's market and the dealer could command just about any price he wanted. The dealer had already bumped another eager buyer who was willing to pay full price. And it wasn't as if Rawat really cared about the price. He just wanted to "win" and beat the dealer down. Rawat insisted that he deserved special treatment and consideration no matter how unreasonable he was.
The chain of premies within the process complicated matters even further. But that's how Rawat wanted it done. Obviously it was set up like that to buffer Rawat from all the haggling while preventing feedback about his ridiculous demands. His requests went through at least 3 or 4 premies before I was told what to say to the dealer. By the time Rawat's demands were passed on to me, the intensity and urgency of each request was amplified to a near frenzied level. Then when I had to send messages back expressing resistance from the dealer, the tension and pressure between the premies became unbearable. Nobody wanted to tell Rawat he couldn't have what he wanted or that it might cost a dime more than he thought he should pay.
Finally after several days of strained negotiations, the order was confirmed and a delivery date was scheduled for the car to be shipped to port in Florida. From there it would be trucked to California and delivered to the Malibu residence. As I said this was clearly understood to be about a 3 month process. It all seemed downhill from that point but in fact the situation just got worse.
After a couple of weeks, Rawat started to ask, through the chain of command, "where was the car ?" He demanded to know what was holding up his order and who was responsible for the delay. Of course there was only one simple explanation; the car was being built in Germany and then had to be shipped. But apparently that explanation just wasn't good enough. At one point I was able to confirm that the car was built and headed for Florida. It would take several days for the ship to cross the Atlantic. Every day I'd get a call asking where it was and what could possibly be done to speed up delivery. I'd have to call my friend the dealer and then report back. He would respectfully reply that the car was on a ship, the ship traveled a certain speed, and all he knew was that it was on its way. As this explanation was passed back to Rawat apparently he became more irritated and enraged. How dare it take so long to get him the car. We were subsequently all characterized by Rawat as incompetent and pitiful.
The car finally arrived at the port but had to be serviced and then trucked to Malibu. This took more time and resulted in more anger, frustration, contempt and blame from Rawat. When he received the car, I heard he hardly ever drove it. It was just added to his collection along with the others as another token of his grand importance and relevance.
Looking back, I felt terrible about the whole experience and in some twisted way I felt responsible for Rawat's frustration. In truth, nothing could have been done better and the process went as smoothly as possible. But I had let down my Master and was made to feel unworthy of his trust. There was never a word of thanks or appreciation. I remained terrified I would let him down every time I was asked to do something. I always felt a strange mix of fear, anxiety, and devotion as I continued to serve him at every opportunity. As a good premie however, I tried even harder to please him no matter how impossible it really was. I think this was pretty much how we all felt as I stayed close to him for another 11 years. That's when I finally had enough, turned my back, and walked away.p
3rd January 2011 - Marolyn: Thoughts And Reflections
There is no doubt that in the beginning, Marolyn was a true believer. She seemed sincerely devoted to Rawat and was immersed in helping with his important "work" to save all of humanity. At the same time she appeared to be grateful and felt fortunate for the special position she held as the wife of the Perfect Master. She seemed to also carry an incredible internal burden of responsibility for her role, which was strangely tempered by a natural sense of true compassion for all of us.
On one memorable occasion over 25 years ago, I was standing in the front yard of the Malibu residence covered in dirt. I had been working hard for several days on a special project at her request, and she was quite pleased with the outcome. She was beautifully dressed and looked absolutely stunning. Without any hesitation she paused, turned towards me and looked me right in the eyes. Time seemed to stop while she expressed with absolute heartfelt sincerity how thankful she was for what I had done. Then she reached her arms around my shoulders and hugged me with a warm and caring, yet firm embrace. My filthy hands hung limply by my sides. I did not know how to react and like an idiot just kind of stood there mesmerized by her tender, loving kindness. But in that moment it didn't matter. And with great dignity she let me know the depth of her gratitude and the insignificance of the dirt.
When planning for the new residence was well underway in the 80's, Marolyn took me aside to show me a scale model of the project that the architects had built. She was extremely excited about the new house and as she pointed out all the features she just could not contain her enthusiasm. But she was careful to qualify her comments and made sure I understood it was all part of a necessary effort to provide what Rawat needed to be able to complete his work. She knew the house was lavishly extravagant, terribly expensive, and that it would be paid for by the hard earned donations and free work of premies. Although thrilled with the idea she seemed to struggle to justify the expense and the financial and physical burden it would place on the premies to build it. There was definitely a conflict brewing within her about the flagrant self indulgence and excessive cost of the project being driven without regard, by her husband and Master.
Once during the early years, I was at the residence when Rawat returned from an overseas trip. As his helicopter landed in the front yard, Marolyn and a couple of the kids came running out to greet Rawat, totally excited to see him. It was obvious that as his wife she had a genuine affection for Rawat, and in his role as the Master, she still carried a healthy respect. All of this was very reassuring to me. I figured that of all the people in the entire World, Marolyn his wife, got to see the real Rawat and what he was really like. If she actually lived with him, slept with him, and still adored and believed in him, then he had to be the real thing. But a couple of years after the new house was finished and the kids had grown up, I noticed a distinct change. Marolyn's world and her life seemed to slowly develop as a separate and distinct reality from that of Rawat's. She had her projects going on and her own staff premies to help her, and Rawat had his projects and his own personal staff to dote on him. Rawat spent most of his time either alone in his office or traveling without her.
During Rawat's travels, and only when Marolyn wasn't with him, Monica the mistress was always around, hiding in the shadows, ready and available at his beck and call. Sometimes I would see her getting on or off the plane, or other times she would fly separately on a commercial flight and meet up with him to rendezvous for a few days. Rawat tried to keep his relationship with Monica secret, but he just couldn't hide the fact that he was smuggling her in and out of his hotel room or the house where he was staying. She had no real reason to be hanging around or traveling with him and it was understood that nobody was supposed to ask why she was there. If it came up at all, the standard answer from those who knew the truth was, "don't worry about it; you don't need to know. He's God and he can do anything he wants. You're lucky to be here so just do your job and keep quiet." It became obvious from simple observation, both at the residence and on these trips, that the holy marriage was in deep trouble.
Marolyn's adoration for Rawat seemed to gradually erode and fade away, and any affection Rawat felt for her, was slowly replaced by an undertone of hostility. Just a few years ago, during one of the last times I drove them together, Rawat sat next to me up front and Marolyn sat alone in the back behind the drivers seat. The trip was going well until suddenly the heater got stuck and the cabin temperature became uncomfortably hot. As I panicked helpless to fix or adjust it, Marolyn who was dressed in warm clothes, started to complain about her rapidly increasing level of discomfort. Since we were only a few minutes from our destination, I had to make a tough choice. If I pulled over to try to adjust the heater control, it would delay the trip, interrupt our schedule, and create an over reaction from the back up security team that was following our every move. If I sped up to shorten the trip, Marolyn would have to continue to suffer until we reached our destination. I looked over at Rawat and he obviously understood the dilemma. He smiled and subtly indicated that I should continue the trip, and then kind of chuckled to himself about how uncomfortable Marolyn was becoming. Afterwards, as I gradually began to regain my composure, it really struck me how Rawat had reacted. He seemed to relish his wife's suffering and I've never forgotten the gleeful look on his face as she became increasingly more miserable.
By 2003, there seemed to be some kind of special arrangement going on between them. Rawat had bought the beach house, which was perched up on a cliff with a beautiful view of the ocean and only about two miles from the main residence. It was clearly being set up as a private retreat for Marolyn. In sharp contrast to his typical obsessive control and domination over any and every decision, Rawat had allowed her to fix it up however she wanted. Marolyn gave me a tour of the inside of the house, which she had decorated by herself in her own distinct style. She was careful to point out every piece of furniture and explain in great detail how she had acquired it, always followed by a detailed description of how little each item had cost. Some of these pieces had been hand made by premies as gifts and she went to extreme lengths to express who had made it and how grateful she was for their generosity and kindness.
The feeling I got was that this was her own special place and although she knew it was all paid for with premies money and hard work, she had been frugal in spending and had not wasted any of that money. She was also sincerely thankful for the gifts and donations and really appreciated each premie's personal effort. Telling me all of this seemed to relieve some of her guilt about how it had been acquired. Somehow she seemed to want me to understand that her way of doing things was different and in sharp contrast to Rawat's. While he would flagrantly waste premie's money with his extravagant spending habits, when left to make her own decisions, her style tended towards being more conservative and minimalist, while not compromising on quality.
Marolyn and I spent several days together at her beach house cleaning up and landscaping the yard, which had been neglected for years. She was one of the hardest workers I have ever met and always treated me with kindness and respect. Once when we broke for lunch she asked me to sit down at the patio dining table and relax while she made me one of the best tuna salad sandwiches I ever had. As the perfect hostess I found her to be, she served it to me with the utmost courtesy while she patiently stood by until I was finished. Then we went back out to work in the yard. She really enjoyed gardening and landscaping, and seemed to find great reward in creating natural beauty by planting and caring for flowers, shrubs, and trees.
The last few times I stayed at the Malibu guest house in 05' and 06', Marolyn had clearly been drinking heavily on a regular basis. This didn't appear to be an occasional event, like having a couple of drinks once in a while to let go a bit. From what I could see it had become much more serious than that. She stumbled by my quarters one night with her personal valet in tow. He was apparently helpless to stop her, but knowing that her intoxicated condition would be obvious, he tried desperately to contain and collect her, while simultaneously apologizing in an attempt to smooth over the incident. When I would see her late mornings or early afternoons, she just looked really rough and hung over and not the same vibrant person who I had known and worked with for years.
The very last time I drove her was in 07' for a short trip to the airport at about 10:00 one morning. Although beautifully dressed with meticulous but slightly over-applied makeup, she was unreasonably irritated, tense, and jittery. She sat alone in the back seat and chattered aimlessly to herself for 20 minutes about whether sour cream should be put on top of take out Mexican food, or delivered in a separate container. None of it made much sense but she was truly struggling to determine the best solution to this puzzling dilemma. It took all I had to safely and carefully drive the car while trying to sort out my own conflicted thoughts and emotions about what I was hearing. This was not the same Marolyn I had known for the past 3 decades. Her personality seemed to have sadly and dramatically changed.
In a lot of ways I feel sorry for Marolyn. She was truly one of the most compassionate, kind, and sincere people I have ever met. The sensitive and expressive Marolyn we all knew from her early satsangs was for real, and I feel certain that in the beginning she fully believed in Rawat just like the rest of us. But because of her unique position, out of all the premies, she seems to have been fooled the most. Gradually I watched her change over time, as she struggled to justify Rawat's excessive spending. Then she became consumed by guilt and resentment as he continued to brazenly take advantage of premie's through their donations of money or free work. She was also troubled by her own cooperative role in Rawat's scam, and while she may have rationalized it in the beginning, her active participation seemed at odds with her true nature. This had to become a source of almost unbearable internal turmoil.
She also knew about Rawat's ongoing affair with Monica and although I never heard her mention it, I think she was understandably torn up about it. At some point it seemed like she had seen all the way through to the real Rawat, and came to accept the fact he was just a fake, a con artist, a cheater, and a horribly flawed individual. After that, it almost seemed like they formed an arrangement where the marriage was kept in place but she was free to create her own separate life at the beach house. Her more recent appearances at Rawat's staged TPRF events seem falsely obligatory and orchestrated at best.
I just can't imagine how Rawat could have fooled his own wife like he did, and then, what it must have been like for Marolyn to face up to the realization that she had been fooled in such a horrendous fashion. At the same time, staying with Rawat after she understood the truth makes her somewhat of an accessory to his crimes. Even though Rawat has no conscience and feels no shame, Marolyn does have a very healthy conscience, and must feel all kinds of internal conflicts that have to be simply overwhelming. I don't blame her for drinking excessively after all she has been through, and hope she can pull out of it if she hasn't already. There is always the possibility that she'll find the courage to leave Rawat and move on, then try to make amends and come to terms with what happened like we all have had to do. That hasn't been easy for me to do, and its difficult to imagine how hard it would be for her with all the added complexities involving the kids and a very public divorce. She may find it easier at this point to just leave the situation as it stands. I guess we'll see what happens as the story continues to unfold. I wish her the best no matter what.