Fire of Transformation. Gora Devi

my job in the kindergarten where I've worked for six months, my loving relationship with Angelo, my house and my friends. I have very little money, no return ticket, no luggage, but even so it still feels right that I should be leaving in this way, taking nothing with me. All I carry is a bag and one dress, the one Gianni brought me from Afghanistan.

      Gian Paolo has given me a book entitled, Barefoot in India and whatever the cost to myself I have no doubt that I should just throw myself fully into this adventure. I know I must be extremely courageous to be 'on the road' completely, especially because at times I feel absolutely terrified. Even so I intuitively feel that on the 'other side of the river' I will discover an answer that will make sense of the mystery of my life; that somewhere there is another reality waiting for me. What's the point of living otherwise? Life here in Milan lacks truth and no longer has any meaning for me any more.

      The whole situation feels extraordinarily magical as if a wise voice is calling me. In a way it seems that my journey had already begun a few months ago with my first experience of LSD in Formentera. Or maybe it occurred in a more subtle sense with Guiliano in Morocco, sitting on the beach, stringing beads together and watching the gulls flying over the sea. Their flight reminded me about freedom, a freedom that I had forgotten or perhaps never known and now, about to travel to India, I begin to experience those same spontaneous sensations of infinite freedom. I know that I will find the courage to jump into the void and the mystery, to search for and discover some sort of solution, maybe find a teacher.

      Last summer in Formentera during my experiences with acid I had visions of many of my past lives as well as a realization of a unified universal consciousness. I envisaged an enormous light comprising of seven perfect colours and saw my soul exiting my body and immersing itself in space. From there I observed the immense flow of life, the lives I have lived, finally realizing that to remain in that state was the all and everything. A voice spoke to me, unequivocally telling me to leave everything behind and depart for India immediately, for a new adventure in consciousness.

      The outer journey began by my being in Milan for these last few months; the inner journey involves seeking an answer, perhaps finding a Master.

      * * *

      Mother India

       Bombay, 7 March 1972

      Our arrival in Bombay was almost too much for me to take and I wanted to run away. Near the airport there are squalid huts, the weather is incredibly hot, the streets overflowing with people. The hotel is exceedingly dirty and full of hippies from Goa, crazy-looking, fascinating people. Outside the streets are teeming with beggars, lepers and children who tease me all the time, calling me a hippie, or shouting 'Hare Ram, Hare Krishna' in a mocking tone. I feel terribly uneasy, with my long dress, my wild hair; it's a completely different world here, a huge, incredible bazaar and I'm scared. Standing in front of the hotel is a strange hippie, a sort of holy man, with long blonde hair and a beard, dressed in dirty, white clothes and I'm afraid of him as well. I found myself thinking that he could take possession of my mind, and I automatically began to repeat a mantra which Piero had taught me, a prayer to the many Indian gods: 'Hari sharanam, Shiva sharanam, Ram sharanam, Prabhu Krishna sharanam...' - my refuge is in Shiva, in Ram, in Lord Krishna...

      It's so terribly hot and I have to constantly fight off a feeling of drowsiness. Everybody is smoking dope in our room and it is hard to resist. We drink copious amounts of boiling hot, milky tea and stuff ourselves with sugary sweetmeats that are very greasy, and I feel nauseous. The restaurants are filthy and I don't like the food at all, everything fried and spicy. I try to console myself a little with some fruit juices, but the beggars standing around me with their hands held out take away all my pleasure. I am afraid to walk down the streets alone and Piero and Claudio laugh and make fun of me; Gianni has already lost himself by taking opium and morphine.

      Today I saw a snake charmer; and what impressed me the most were the beggar's eyes, ironic, almost happy, smiling at it all. People here seem to live as if in a dream, in a different kind of reality, with the knowledge that everything is relative, some sort of game. In my mind I compare their faces with those sad and pale faces of the wealthy people I used to see in the mornings on the tram in my home city of Milan, so tense and cold.

       11 March 1972

      Today I met a group of fascinating people from California, the young men dressed in white clothes and having long hair: they appear to be at home in India, sure of themselves. I also came across Lillo, a young Italian woman who resembles a little magical elf and she encourages me to throw away all of my existing clothes and wear white instead. Then I discovered the 'Rainbow Gypsies', people from every corner of the world, travelling continuously, with little money, almost no luggage and suspect documents. They travel around dancing and singing in the streets; they are very beautiful and rely on the hospitality of others in order to live. There is something magical about the way they live and I find myself enchanted by them.

      One of them, Rosa, a striking young Italian woman, walks around with a monkey on her shoulder sucking at her breast, but I am especially attracted to Daniel and Sitaram, two Americans, who even though they are young appear so experienced and wise. I would like to become like them, courageous, fearless, sure of myself and to have the consciousness that they have. I've decided to colour my hair with red henna and have my hand tattooed, I feel it's my first act of courage.

       12 March 1972

      This morning while sitting in my room there was a knock at the door and in came Carlo. These days he is called Shanti and I hardly recognized him, I hadn't seen him for six years. He still has his childish smile, but that is now mixed with the expression of an elderly, wise man. Also he wears Indian clothes nowadays and his unexpected arrival has made a deep impression on me.

      Shanti was one of the first people I knew who left Milan in order to discover the East. He travelled overland through Afghanistan and Pakistan to India six years ago when he was sixteen, in the same way that many other people did at that time. I really admired their courage and faith, travelling 'on the road', practically without any money, risking everything for their search. People tell me that Shanti has been in the company of many Indian gurus during the past few years and that he has now become a guru himself. He speaks in a strange way, slowly, very quietly. I want to stay close to him, because I feel he will be able to show me something.

      In 1966, in an old part of the city of Milan, a group of us had our first experience of community in a small, impoverished attic that was freezing cold. That's where we smoked our first joints together and dreamt for the first time about the mystery of the East. Shanti and a few of his friends were among the first long-haired hippies around at that time. People derided and insulted them in the street, calling out: 'Hey layabout, go and get a job!'

      I first met him together with Gianni at a restaurant in Brera. I offered them a meal and after that met them frequently. We got involved in all sorts of crazy activities on the streets of Milan, 'happenings' and cultural encounters for which we were eventually arrested a few times. Gianni actually got thrown out of San Vittore after having been attending there for a year and a half, because he was caught in possession of a small amount of hashish and he eventually ended up in jail. Then Shanti suddenly left for India hitch-hiking overland and so I parted company with them. During the time that followed I concentrated on my studies in philosophy at the University and became involved in the student movement of 1968.

      For a few years I forgot about the Indian dream and even my old friends, but now Shanti has found me and here we are together again, I can hardly believe it. Shanti starts to tease me, because I am with Piero and Claudio, two people interested in Buddhism. He tells me that Hinduism is a much more advanced yoga, but at the moment I don't really understand the difference. I just feel I should stay close to Shanti, partly because Piero and Claudio are not so willing to take care of me. They are busy with preparations for their trip and I feel lost and alone, particularly because I can't really speak English yet. In the end though I've decided to stay with Piero and Claudio for the time being and attend a Buddhist meditation course in Bombay. It's a Vipassana course, led by a famous teacher,