Fire of Transformation. Gora Devi

Goenka and even Gianni has decided to give up his morphine and participate.

       15 March 1972

      Today the course started: never before in my life have I embarked on such an experience and I am really curious about the whole thing. Here everything is clean, orderly, well organized Half of the people are Westerners, the other half Indians, but the Indian people here are very respectable, mainly dressed in spotless, white clothes and they pay great attention to discipline. I realize that every gesture that they make in their lives, from eating to bathing, is some form of ritual.

      I'm also a little frightened and feel rather emotional, because it's the first time I will meet a master, a guru.

       17 March 1972

      I have been here for three days and it's not been easy for me, it's incredibly hot and the routine hard going.

      We wake up at 5 o'clock in the morning, take a shower and try to meditate in silence. We are supposed to concentrate solely on the breath, but for me it's almost impossible to sit on the floor cross-legged and to stop thinking, yet I am still determined to try. Once a day we meet all together in a large hall, seated in front of the teacher, Goenka.

      He is a man about fifty years old, with a strong-looking body and the round belly of a Buddha. He emanates an exceptionally quiet energy, peaceful, good, solid and we sing a beautiful song with him. At the end of the singing he repeats this sentence to us in English a few times: 'Love, infinite love for all beings.' It's his teaching every day. He also lets everyone sit in front of him individually for a few minutes in silence, engaging each person in a brief, direct, telepathic encounter. When it is my turn, I become scared. I sit in front of him and am aware of my restless mind, as well as my negative and even aggressive thoughts towards him and am afraid he can see it all. I feel as if I am sitting in front of a mirror and I realize that there are many things that require to be purified within me.

       24 March 1972

      It's the last day of the meditation course and I am pleased to have completed it. After returning to the hotel I meet up with Shanti again and ask if I could stay with him, because Piero and Claudio want to proceed to Nepal. I have decided I want to leave the city but feel there are many things I have yet to learn about India. I say to Shanti that I would like to meet a guru and he invites me to accompany him to Almora where he has rented a house with his friends, the 'Rainbow Gypsies'. He tells me that a lot of the masters and saints of India live in the mountains and I feel happy about going with him.

       25 March 1972

      We have been wandering around the bazaar in Bombay, teeming with humanity, people of all colours and types. There is a great pulsing vitality, an expression of love and warmth. The women are so beautiful and I never become tired of looking at them. They are the perfect expression of complete femininity, both harmonious and graceful, their manner chaste and virtuous, the colourful saris they wear absolutely wonderful. India is beginning to fascinate me and I have a strong desire to continue with my adventure.

      Today I leave with Gianni and Shanti to go to Rajasthan. First stop on our journey to Almora, which is our final destination, is to find a guru that Shanti knows called Hari Puri who lives near Jaipur in Rajasthan.

       New Delhi, 27 March 1972

      We arrived in Delhi by plane. It's not as hot as Bombay and seems a little more civilized. We are staying in a very comfortable guest-house and down in the street we stuffed ourselves with tropical fruits served with ice. I've been told that it is dangerous to consume food prepared in this way but I feel protected by some power and don't want to be fussy. I'm determined to throw myself wholeheartedly into this situation without any holding back in order to try and get to the bottom of it all.

       Jaipur, 29 March 1972

      Here we are in Jaipur in the state of Rajasthan. We journeyed here by train, travelling slowly, stopping continually, the train overfull, dusty and dirty, the benches and couchettes hard and uncomfortable, made of wood. Fortunately I had some training in enduring this sort of discomfort during my travels in Morocco.

      We take a rickshaw to the jungle outside the city to find Shanti' s teacher. It's a wild place, full of Sadhus who look as wild as their surroundings. They have extremely long hair in dreadlocks that they never comb, their bodies resemble the big cats of the jungle and they smoke hashish all the time. I don't understand a word that they are saying but it makes no difference, they continue to talk to me quite unconcerned, telling us stories about how they kill tigers with their bare hands, and so on. I go to lie down to rest with Gianni and one of them lifts my skirt to see if I have any knickers on. They also insist that I smoke and I am taken aback by their manner, shocked by their behaviour.

      Later on they introduce me to the master, who is ill, extremely thin, small in stature and clean-shaven, lying on a bed. He has languid eyes and from him there emanates an incredible love. I'm deeply moved and would like to give him a present. The only thing that I have which is precious to me is a silver bracelet and so I give it to him. Although it is not possible to communicate with \ him directly, we exchange looks and waves of love pass between us. Perhaps he will die soon because they say he cannot be cured.

       2 April 1972

      Today we've been to the bazaar to buy material. It is here in the shops that everything comes to a virtual standstill, where you sit, drink tea, chat and tell your life story. Eventually the shopkeepers pull out all the merchandise they have for sale, spread it out and in the end you buy something. The women are never seen in the shops, only the men who sit cross-legged or stretch out on large white beds. It seems as if time stands still for them, as if they are not really waiting for clients but simply living, almost in a state of meditation.

      We went to eat in a luxury restaurant in the grand style of the maharajas, waited on as if we were important people. It's incredible to observe the great humility of the Indian servants, who completely identify with the sense of service. I am embarrassed, I feel like an old colonialist, one who is privileged. I think I would rather stay with the poor Indians in their own homes.

      * * *

      Meeting the Great Master, Babaji

       Almora, 3 April 1972

      This morning we reached Almora, after another interminably long journey. It's a mountain town, at an altitude of about I800 metres, but the weather is not cold as it would be in the European mountains. The bazaar is filthy, the hotel squalid and it's really difficult for me to drink or eat anything in the small, dirty restaurants that are here. I did not expect to see such poverty, the poorly constructed wooden buildings rotting. Also the hotel is full of fleas, biting us all night; it is terrible.

      The mornings are chilly and the water in the shower is freezing. It has all been a very great surprise to me because they had told me it was an idyllic place.

       5 April 1972

      We are now living in a house in the forest, rented by Shanti and his friends, the 'Rainbow Gypsies'. It is a much more pleasant place to be and the landscape around here is extremely beautiful. Nevertheless it's still uncomfortable and inconvenient; there is no running water, no electricity and no toilets. I have taken on the duty of cooking and washing up the pots and plates, because I feel it is good for me, but I find it extremely tiring doing everything squatting down on the earth the way the Indian people do. They have such agile and supple bodies and are used to working all their lives in this way. Although I admire them, trying to work like this makes me feel awkward and clumsy, but at this moment in time I feel I have to learn to do something for others and be of service.

      The 'Rainbow Gypsies' are such lovely people and the two young American men from California who I met in Bombay are here as well with their girlfriends, together with a collection of other people