The India Notebooks
the first notebookApril 6 - June 30, 1973
April 6 - 13
April 14 - 27
April 28 - May 9
May 10 - 15
May 16 - 27
May 28 - June 7
June 8 - 21
June 22- 30
the second notebook
July 1 - August 22,1973
July - 11
July 12 - 21
July 22 - 27
July 28 - August 7
August 8 - 15
August 16 -22
photograph taken in New Delhi for Nepal visa
6/4/73
[London. Note: the date is April 6, 1973, written English style with day first]
Last minute chores. India House for visa farce-finale (waited an hour while it sat ready in a basket six feet from me). Fixed spot for A+M -- sandwich, G+S, Coolidge+Powerglide+Floyd on Colin's gear. Got 20 pounds earlier for records -- nice surprise. 1932 Tarzan film.
7/4/73
0815. Packing. High Street shopping (shoes, etc.). E+C's. A+M's -- smoke -- Eurovision Song Contest. Funny awareness of social interaction -- tend to react through habit compulsion. Surprised at conflict level in conversation between couples (E+C, A+M).
8/4/73
0055, Hexagram 64. Before Completion. "Every end contains a new beginning". END OF SINCLAIR ROAD. A+M drove me to Heathrow. London (est. 1430, act. 1605) ... stop in Munich ... Damascus (est. 2330) ... Delhi (est. ?). 1610. Aboard Syrian Caravelle. 2015 (still flying). Stopped in Munich briefly. No smile school in Syria. But the novelty is amusing. Spilled Scotch down one trouser leg. 2240. Damascus. Anonymous-moderne airport with curio shop + bar + amusingly interested ticket clerk. Cardin ties. 2330: Taking off for Beirut (I think she said). Nicer crew. First class steward. Moon over Damascus. After take-off, lights of Damascus, orange crescent moon, stars -- a wondrous sight. Slightly bumpy ride now (2404 London time). 0125 -- half-hour stop at incredible airport (Kuwait or Dhubai???). Arabian Nights fantasy (coming into landing: road through sands). VERY hot.
9/4/73
0640 (London), 1040 (I think) DELHI. Flight into Delhi magnificent. Massive deserts and then suddenly the city. Traffic just not believable -- but then nothing really is. Very dry heat. Room at Ranjit Hotel -- bath and air conditioning (freezing!). Weary. Slept until 1500. Walked to Connaught Place -- looks like a tidy little circle on the map but is an enormous sprawling hubbub. Wandered around in dazed amazement feeling semi-paranoid at times. Most Americans encountered were hippy, native-with-a-vengeance types. Westerners very rare, however. Paper says it was 94 degrees yesterday but it doesn't seem that hot (albeit beautifully scorching). Saw the massive complex of sundials (Jantar Mantar) but was too tired to investigate. Places to sit very rare. Traffic just totally chaotic everywhere. After some searching (and one refusal), got a taxi back to the hotel. Had a too-expensive drink in the dreary bar and foul Tandoori chicken for dinner. Wrote lots of letters (P.O. in Connaught Place too much). Bed at 2400. Afraid of a cold with this frigid room and torrid exterior. Probably inevitable. (Dinner: 12.85 rupees + room: 55 rupees). Moslem call to prayer very moving. Singing and chanting all evening -- still going. PICASSO DIED yesterday.
10/4/73
0440. Delhi awakens. Couldn't sleep -- jet lag. Then a bunch of chants -- both group and solo -- interrupted the crickets. Dogs barking and the crows start (the crows are beautiful but very vocal). God doesn't get much sleep over Delhi. Air conditioning goes off at night -- final straw. Will change rooms. Finally slept awhile. Woke up just before ten and changed to a rather wretched room (by comparison) but at least it's not frigid. Quite the opposite. Went to the zoo. Very large sprawling park at the base of a ruined fortress (Purana Qila -- 16th century). At the other end, a stunning view of Humayun's Tomb looking much like the Taj Mahal. Zoo has a good collection (especially a splendid panther and a white tiger plus lots of exotic birds). People reacted in a friendly fashion. One boy who works there showed me the two ferocious cheetas kept in tiny cages. Most of the cats were in cramped quarters. Sun very hot and my nose is red. Then took one of the little taxis for the first time (bouncing in a slightly alarming manner) to Parliament. Elegant round colonnaded building in a grandiose environment. Exhausted and with one blister, back to hotel for a rest. Finally got the antique phone to respond and got cokes and ice.
I both enjoy and resent being called Sahib!
One can easily get the impression that Indians see white men as a walking goldmine (but then perhaps we are by comparison). Oh -- huge black ants in the zoo -- my rest on the grass was very brief. Temp yesterday hit 96 degrees says the paper. It doesn't really seem that hot. Shower + shampoo. Amusing to shower in a bathroom which is nothing but a shower (i.e. stone floor and drain). Drink and much better dinner (potatoes, spinach, salad and paratha with yummy iced tea). They played "Funny Girl" soundtrack. Table of super-straight Americans. Watched a few minutes of television -- beautiful segment with two male singers, sitar, etc. Then back to room for hsh. Zap. Amazing. 2430.
11/4/73
0730 after brief sleep. Paper says temp yesterday ranged from 70.5 to 99.7 -- a hundred! Clerk who brought the tea intrigued by gas throwaway lighter. Had shower -- killed two elephant-sized mosquitos. Walked to and around Connaught Circus. More Westerners about. Trooped off down one of those endless boulevards which lead nowhere -- finally back to Connaught via Janpath. Strolled through the bazaar and a mercifully air-conditioned building of state-owned shops. Most of the stuff boring -- mass-produced rubbish. Went into an enclosed building (Mohan Singh) of food shops, etc. in Connaught Circus which had a ghastly odor -- fled in a hurry. The heat is staggering. Back to hotel for brief nap. Don't really have much to do in this city and should think of moving on soon. Holiday today -- commemoration of some feat of Krishna. Only banks seem to close. People: Westerner sitting in a chair in Connaught Place smiled and nodded -- nice change from the frosty drop-outs; fortune teller way off base with babble about two women; some white stuff (ice cream?) mysteriously appeared on one shoe and perhaps not so mysteriously a young boy popped-up to clean it. ("You like boy?" he asked.) Went to Oberoi Intercontinental -- very nice place. Drinks at a bar with pleasant Englishman, Mark Gummer, who has recently come out to work for Macmillan. Went to Chinese restaurant on the roof for massive dinner (coming to incredibly cheap total of 50 rupees). Delightful. Mark going to Agra for the weekend and suggested I join him but flying and costly hotel is unwise. Nice to have an acquaintance in Delhi though. Back to hotel just before 0100. Big green lizard on bathroom wall!
12/4/73
Happy Birthday to me. (Discovered from Mark that yesterday was Krishna's birthday). I seem to manage to get only 4-5 hours of sleep here -- so noisy. Paper says it was 104 degrees yesterday. Went to Mark's office -- coffee and pleasant chat (dinner date for next Tuesday). Walked through incredible streets to the Red Fort. A grand, beautifully simple walled city. Sat on the floor of the Emperor's Pavilion -- joined by a charming Indian lad who spoke no English. Delightful game pushing coins back and forth, sign-language communication, scratching our names on the floor with a pebble. He gave me a chain bracelet, smoked my cigarettes with joy but wouldn't take money. Strange cuts on his hands -- some kind of religious self-effacement? (He was proud of two great scars on his belly). Walked down the Chandni Chowk and a side alley to the Jama Masjid. He went in and I should have waited but it was beastly hot. So I took a taxi to the Janpath. Iced tea at the Imperial Hotel, brief look at the bazaar and back to my room (which is only 35 rupees, I find -- about $5). Wrote letters. Had dinner. Birthday smokes and a good letter to Patricia.
Xerox prints on special paper? India II: Letter to Patricia. Mount original aeorgramme on fabric to form Mughal or Tibetan "frame". Xerox. Frame original with print #1. 50 signed + numbered prints. [Later note comments: "hashish-ishness"]
13/4/73
Started thinking about moving business out here, etc., and couldn't get to sleep until after 0500. Reluctantly up at 0845. Shower. Taxi to India Gate and then walked along Rajpath where naked boys were swimming in the decorative pools. Couple of hours in the National Museum. Such a wealth of Indian, Tibetan and Nepalese art. It would seem that only the more typical examples are common in the West so the atypical pieces were even more intriguing (i.e., little clay sculptures, c. 2000 BC, in almost Afro-style abstraction; many Greek-influenced hyper-realistic heads (some with moustache); etc. It is difficult to get into a Tibetan mandala if a guard sits and stares at you. Continued up the Rajpath and over to Janpath. Spaghetti at the Hotel Imperial with more of their yummy iced tea. Beastly hot. Slept for an hour and then had the young lad from the barber shop give me a massage -- vigorous and pleasurable 12 rupees worth. Nice boy. I must learn Hindi if I'm going to stay in this country (and I think I am). Decided letter project too grandiose and will post it to Pat. Washed shirts + socks. Picasso's grandson tried to kill himself. Therein lies, etc. Thinking back to sahib: "I was born to be called sahib."
Tipping is a glass bead game. To play best, be inconsistent.
It is better to have them ask if you want anything.
It is an artist's duty to challenge.
14/4/73
Only dozed lightly. Afternoon nap or 3-1/2-4 hour early morning sleep seem interchangable -- a very peculiar and drastic switch in habit pattern (but not at all unwelcome). More and more things keep falling into place. I've been very naive. Regular room boy off today. Slept until 1330 -- minor dust storm making outside attractions less inviting (despite plans to sit in Red Fort). Temp yesterday 105.4 degrees -- Delhi hotter than Bombay or Calcutta. Bought Indian cigarettes (too expensive -- three different brands 4-1/2, 5, 6-1/2 rupees) and a large Golden Eagle beer, 10 rupees. Went to Connaught Circle at sunset. The park in the center is incredible -- music playing over loudspeakers (even one Airplane track!) --- vendors with torches --- the open sky. Endless parade of people wanting to talk, of course, plus knowledge that it is one place to buy hash (could have but was put off by a pushy queen from Tanzania with the unlikely name of Paddy). A beautiful park and experience even if one sometimes wishes people would be just a little less chatty. Back to light dinner of fruit salad and iced tea. Coachload of Germans arrived.
15/4/73
Got a bit cooler. Disappointing visit to Red Fort because I didn't find what I was looking for. Good object lesson. A week in Delhi is certainly an education. I must learn Hindi. Western Sunday-loss day. The Germans are staying in a monster trailer parked out front. Except for registering, they don't seem to use the hotel. Weird. Saw my first snake charmer at the Fort and a penetrating old man. Afternoon boy can score for 20 rupees but I'll try to get him to lower it. Very nice dinner of spaghetti and salad (better here than at the Imperial). My waiter is now seeing that the food is better prepared and serves impeccably. Despite what everyone says, generosity pays. Afternoon boy has two children and the old man has ten (!). Five minutes of Englebert and Bassey on tv.
16/4/73
Beautiful cool night and good sleep. Went to Lakshmi Narayana Temple -- an almost Disneyland place built in the decadent 30s. Nice gardens and interesting quotes engraved everywhere. One rather amazing mirrored room and shrine. A group of women visitors entered singing merrily and the more Westernized Indians smiled. Then to Connaught Place, bought a basic Hindi book and went to the park. Started a conversaton attempting to score hash -- ended up in a circle with one Swede, one Cuban, one Hollander and one Yank from Chicago. Joined by various queens ("you could be in films") and two beautiful Nepalese boys and dozens of Indians. Smoked some strong Afghani in a chillum. Very nice park and smoke but these hippies are a drag -- nothing but downers. Back to hotel at 1800, slightly sunburned. Besieged by massage boy (3 brothers, 2 sisters). "I very much like your work," he said. I was so stoned it took me a long time to figure out what he meant. They can be almost irresistably charming.
Tried to talk to one Indian queen about the philosophical implications of the same Hindi word meaning yesterday and tomorrow but he could only take it to the meaning-in-context vs. isolated-word level. Boring. Of course I suppose I am doing the equivalent of sitting in Picadilly Circus. Must occasionally remind myself this is Delhi, not India. Back to avoiding tourists and hippies (hate to keep using that word but it fits these people). Postcards to Roderick, Chiu, and Carvers. Chicken pullao for dinner. Morning boy and waiter gone missing again.
17/4/73
Full Moon. Went to Humayun's Tomb, a sort of practice run for the Taj. Beautifully symmetrical from each side, in a complex of gardens which must be glorious with water in the pools. Interior very drab. Then to Oberoi Intercontinental for delicious extravagant lunch and sit by pool. On to Lodhi Gardens and more Mughal tombs. Back for massage. Gave afternoon boy money for hash. Back to Oberoi at 1930 -- Mark already there (and so were the Dutch and Cuban queens!). Too many drinks. Wouldn't let me in the roof restaurant without a tie (?) so ate in the Taj Room. Piss elegant with French menu ... good food (Steak Diane) but made mistake of having a bottle of red wine which cost 7 pounds!!! Yekh. Got back to hotel at 0130.
18/4/73
0730 and hangover. They moved the other bed out and vigorously cleaned. Studied Hindi all morning. (1715). Reading Magister Ludi. Beer and cheese sandwich making me feel dopey. Bit weary of this incessant heat. Maybe time for the hills? There just isn't anything to do here.
19/4/73
Morning tea and shower. Sat in Connaught Place until shops opened. Bought collection of T. Williams stories, biscuits and cigs. Post office. Wrote to Ilise. Stopped up to see Mark and then went to a memorial near the river (Rajghat). Incredibly hot. Spaghetti dinner.
20/4/73
Day in Connaught Place park -- ran into Dutch and Cuban. Introduced to the juice bar hangout in Mohan Singh Place. Back to their hotel terrace (Ringo's Guest House) for smokes and Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. Oh yes. Stoned back to the hotel. Boy gave me a copy of the Gita. Enormous dinner with jug of iced tea. Smoke (finally scored). 104 degrees yesterday. And it was Good Friday.
21/4/73
To Connaught Place and Ringo's. Juice bar and park. Henri and me up to Red Fort and Chandni Chowk. Evening reading Gita. Spaghetti again. Temp today: 106.3.
22/4/73
Easter Sunday. And another Ringo, CP, juice bar day with Floyd, Procol Harum, etc. Hank and Henri leaving Tuesday for Afghanistan -- dealer and Aussi off to Nepal tonight. End of the Delhi season?
23/4/73
Woke up with exceedingly delicate stomach which says don't move. Nasty (serves me right for guzzling in that filthy juice bar). [Later note: wasn't -- it was sip of water at Red Fort.] At home day. (2130) Stayed in bed. Ice cream and tea for dinner. Feel ok so long as I don't get up. Mr. McDougal (68-year-old Sikh) rang about a flat for 500 rupees -- very tempting proposal.
24/4/73
UGH. Heat + power failure.
25/4/73
CONTINUED. This ghastly stomach and relentless heat is a class-A downer. Help.
26/4/73
Feeling better at last. Yesterday: 108.7. Went to Connaught Place, looked in at Amex, chemists for pills called Mexaform, omelette and iced tea. Checked with desk clerk -- all right to leave suitcase with hotel so will try and get off to U.P. hills early next week. Stomach troublesome but improving. Heat very tiring. Bought Newsweek and read all about the Watergate (cont.) scandal, etc. Tried to eat dinner with little success -- threw-up what I did eat. Grizzly evening.
27/4/73
Day beginning very hot (sigh). Stomach still a mess. Advert for Defense Colony flat sounds interesting but -- do I really want to stay? (1835) Decided no. Amex impossibly unhelpful about booking arrangements. Tourist Office very nice. Long lunch at the Union and then to INCREDIBLY PRIMITIVE bus terminal. Bought ticket on so-called deluxe coach to Dehra Dun for 0930 tomorrow -- taxi or bus from there to Mussoorie. Stopped by to see Mark (who may come up for a visit) and then bought thermos for the journey. Earlier got some antibiotic capsules (Chlorostrep) which seem to have licked the internal disaster (prescription only they are -- aha!) and a small suitcase for the journey. Rang to book room in Mussoorie. Laundry and packing. Amazing how little one can reduce down to in this country. Ventured a comparatively large dinner in anticipation of tomorrow's "fast".
MUSSOORIE. Left the Ranjit at 0830 wondering if I'll ever see that suitcase again (and not really caring very much). On to the bus with no problems. A rattling, hot, dusty six-hour ride but very much worth it. The countryside is a panorama of centuries. Frequent brief stops but my thermos of iced water was a lifesaver and stomach survived. Passed a large "prison camp" of Pakistanis not far outside Delhi -- unless it's a showplace those prisoners appear to be better housed than most Indians. Several Divine Light "missions". So many strange and wonderful visions. Arrived in ramshackle Dehra Dun about 1530 and took a taxi up the fantastic mountain road to Mussoorie. The mountains are like sculpture. Had to dodge three gray-white monkeys playing in the road. Checked into Hotel Roanoke -- primitive but very spacious and clean with a good view from the veranda. Hotel completely full. Pleasant staff. So fresh and cool here. Didn't see a Westerner all day. Went down for dinner and met Steven (American expatriate -- Germany and India) and Friedehund, very pleasant couple. Bought two beers and talked with them and the young manager of the hotel until 2130. Light dinner of mutton chops refreshingly plain and simple. Will move into a smaller room tomorrow at 15 rupees a night. This place will be very good for my budget.
29/4/73
Up early after best sleep since coming to India. This is a little paradise. I would have been crazy to stay in Delhi and should have come here before Easter. Walked through market to cemetary. Jnt. Watched the mountains for several hours. Bought some yummy Cadbury's Crackle bars -- milk chocolate and butterscotch -- and soap (still major events here!). Then out again in the opposite direction. Slowly find landmarks. Very good variety of shops and friendly people. Mussoorie is wonderful. Arms quite sunburned so bought cream for them -- also copy of Swami Vivekananda's book on Ramakrishna. Back for tea and nice tabby cat who got some milk. Jnt 2 (1710). Had dinner at 2015 (chicken pullao, and they do definitely cook better here). Went to bed fairly early.
30/4/73
Hexagram 14 - Possession in Great Measure. Up at 0700. Tea+papers+laundry. And so to the end of a truly amazing April. Walked to P.O. and on past the cemetery in a winding full loop around the hill (Camel's Back Road) -- about 1-1/2 hours. Watched the sunset from the terrace. Dinner after chat with S+F. Then bedtime jnt which greatly amused Ramesh, the young manager.
1/5/73
Up early. Extended exploration beyond the Savoy Hotel and up Vincent Hill. Now (1130) on a rocky crag overlooking Himalayas. A Buddhist shrine with altar for fire. Ropes between poles hold bits of coloured cloth with prayers screened on them. No shade. Jnt + orange. Finished book on Ramakrishna. Invited by Ramesh to join Dick (?) and John Scott at dinner, American teachers at Woodstock School. Invited to dinner and concert with them tomorrow. So it goes. John teaches art. Sigh.
2/5/73
0630. Wrote letters, met Steve + F as I was going out -- sodas at Kwality and on to Happy Valley. Lunch of "chow-chow" at Tibetan Restaurant -- cabbage and other veg on noodles. Plain, wholesome and good. Then on to the silly Municipal Gardens. Had a jnt and sat in a secluded wood for some time. Back to hotel to discover rates went up yesterday (!) and will go up more on the 7th. So went looking at other hotels -- most pretty grim. The other Western couple found a house divided into two flats upstairs (at 450 rupees for the rest of the year) and ground floor at 600. So must investigate that. Went back to Kwality for a last soda. Bed at 1030.
3/5/73
These bloody Indians and their transistors -- 0615 the racket started. Walked with S+F to YWCA -- will probably move there. Stopped in to see house agents. Interesting one above Municipal Gardens for 1400 rest of the year -- will see plan tomorrow. Back to hotel for rest and jnt. It is very much in my mind that it was one year ago tomorrow that I met Egbert. Went to Kwality for soda and sandwiches. Lackadaisical day. Quite cloudy too.
THUNDER AND RAIN. Dazzling jagged lightning and house-shaking thunder. Now both mountain and thunder in I Ching have relevant direct-experience tracks. New Moon.
4/5/73
Up early. Packed and moved to YWCA. Tea with S+F and then set out for Kemptie Falls. Got a terrifying bus. Falls very nice with some relatively secluded pools -- managed to splash about and sunbathe. Got back up to find the last bus gone so it was a very long walk back. A very good day. Love to Egbert.
5/5/73
0600. Not bad sleep (no bed linen so slept in my clothes). First time in the high frame, cloth-webbing type bed. Cold wash and shampoo and laundry. Went to lunch with Steve -- south Indian meal which was quite good. Lazy day reading Thornton Wilder's The Eighth Day found in book cabinet here -- O'Hara type saga of small-town America. Went out again with Steve in early evening to do some shopping. Met the Swami Chaitanyanand Saraswati (and a very wrecked looking English guy and a well-dressed Indian from Delhi). Bought can of beans and rolls for dinner. Read until 2215.
6/5/73
Egbert's birthday. 0615. Restless but still refreshing sleep. These beautiful mornings are so consistent that one begins too soon to take them for granted. Should I go see the Swami today? Hexagram 43-Breakthrough. An interesting oracle but a little ambiguous in relation to the question. Maybe the Swami is irrelevant. Happy birthday, Egbert. Love+joy+peace. (1930) Went to the Swami's ashram on foot. Primitive place rather too near the Dehra Dun road. The Swami and his Indian disciple both very pleasant and the English boy also nice but the Delhi creature was the type of Indian I most dislike -- educated but without social tact or sensitivity, asker of endless senseless questions. Apologies were made for him by the Swami ("he's a child," he said) and asked me to return. They gave us tea heavily spiced. Then we set off for Bhatta Falls, another idyllic spot with a miraculous grotto and a triple waterfall -- sparkling, totally clear, very cold water -- large boulders and bright pebbles. Jnts and splashing. I built two small dams in a side stream and wished good things for Egbert. I would gladly have stayed longer but F. was feeling bad so we climbed back to the road and took a taxi up to town. Sodas at Kwality and back to Y to read Anya Seton's superficial but interesting biography of Washington Irving. Very sunburned.
7/5/73
The wonderful first voyage with Egbert. So the major anniversaries. Started reading Agatha Christie's improbable but amusing They Came to Baghdad, read until 10 last night and finished it with morning tea. Started a rural Southern novel, Vein of Iron by Ellen Glasgow. Went with S+F shopping in Landour Bazar and up Lal Tibba. Very quiet peaceful forest. Back for lunch in the Bazar. Saw a pair of Tibetan temple bells, nice but not so holy as Patricia's. 1945. The doctor has come to see the old woman in the next room. Very strange overhearing the mixed story of her life and present difficulties. Went out again with S+F to Green's Restaurant for masala dosa.
8/5/73
0600 becomes a habit. Went to change money. Discovered it would take two weeks just to get permission to open a bank account so nothing to do but wait until I hear from Chris. Stopped in P.O. but too much of a mob. The frustration of life in this country does tend to drag me down occasionally. Saw the house agent who still had no plan of the one-and-only house he has available. Went with S+F to Happy Valley. Lunch and temple. Prayer cyclinders. Watermelon party at the Roanoke. Savoy. Jnts. Out again to Green's for excellent daal (tasting much like chili) and to "Dhund", an incredible Hindi film. Impossible to describe such an audio-visual orgy. Bed at midnight.
9/5/73
One month in India. It seems like at least three. Paper full of Watergate and rumblings about impeachment. Finished Vein of Iron. Jnt and botched letters. Good lunch at Green's with S+F, then they left at 1530. Sorry to see them go. Jnts and a funny 20s novel, Little Mrs. Manington, by Cecil Roberts. Set in San Antonio! Spent a quiet evening reading.
10/5/73
Sky a bit hazy. Breakfast at the Indian table. It has been 45 days since the last trip and perhaps time for the first Indian journey. Up to buy cigs and a cake. Very windy and dusty so at 1130: India I (one cap).
1615. Fiddled about with an aerogramme (and now this). Consider living without a mirror. All day long dust has blown up from the plains and now there is thunder. 2210. Large dinner at Green's. Wedding procession with torches, band, decorated rickshaw and fireworks. Walked out Camel's Back Road and around. It was an interesting trip -- perhaps not so different than London ones. Not magic but ... Remember reading (of course). 2240. To bed.
11/5/73
Didn't sleep until after midnight. Awake as usual at 0600. Shampoo and wash. Started reading Ragged Banners by Ethel Manning, romance set in London about beautiful young man. Breakfast and up to buy cigs and snacks. Windy and dusty again. I find myself growing more and more bored. But what to do? Jnts and finished the book. Boredom shifting to restlessness. Dairies diaries. An India Journal should not be so silly. I could write about the details of life in this little room (because in time I shall forget). The "bath" is a square in the floor with a 4" raised edge and a cold water tap about 3 feet up on the wall. Hot water can be ordered by the bucket after meals (wood stove only going for cooking). The water runs out a hole in the wall and into a concrete gutter down the hillside. Ants and spiders. The old man at breakfast had seen a centipede. "All those things come out when the rains come," replied the manageress. Went to Kwality for egg chow mein (better than Tavern but not much). Tired.
12/5/73
Good sleep. Feeling brighter. The dusty wind must be like the Sirocco. It seems to be losing its strength but Dehra Dun is still under haze. 15 days in Mussoorie. Paid for another week here. Considering possibility of not going to Delhi. Wrote to Amex about forwarding post; to Ranjit about suitcase; note to Mark. Down to see Ramesh. Very long trek on the Rajpur Road, mostly on goat trails, down to Barlowganj. Pleasant stop and sign-language conversation with a porter. Then scrambed down the mountain to Bhatta Falls. Didn't get there until three so had only a couple of hours splashing in the sun. Got on a bus which happened to be a charter -- ballet school from Bombay on a mountain holiday. Don't even bother to tell the truth anymore, just invent whatever story suits my mood. Went to Green's for dinner, something called baala (?), a cold dish in buttermilk sauce and fried daal in butter. Amazingly good food and generous servings, 4 rupees. Very tired from all the walking. Read Ionesco's Amedee or How to Get Rid of It, a rather vacuous variation on Kafka. (Io's first play).
13/5/73
Anniversaries, cont.: Songs from a Birdcage. Good sleep. How rarely I remember dreams here. Rooster crows, dog barks, crow caws and it's a new day. Sunday. Took the bus down to Bhatta and back. Jnt and pleasant day in water and sun. Met the Swami and English boy on my way back through town. "Are you happy?" asked the Swami. "Yes," I lied. Shampoo and then through suddenly very crowded town to the Tavern for Chinese dinner (won ton soup, chicken foo young and China tea). Food better than the last time but too expensive. Soul and Motown music which was fun. Met Ramesh on my way back and agreed to wait for him, then went to see "Victoria No. 203", not as good as "Dhund" but enjoyable pastiche about some stolen diamonds. Usual bit of expensive cars and houses, dreadful "stars" and hilarious musical sequences. A male pair were the comic leads with a not unattractive woman and a horrid fat slob as romantic leads. She did one song in a voice which was piercing and he did one accompanied by a dance which was totally embarrassing. Didn't get back to Y until 0100. Moon is approaching full (on 17th) and was very beautiful overhead.
14/5/73
0630 comes very early after a night at the cinema. A year ago I was tripping along with Pat, Martin, Alastair and Egbert at the show of steam machines in Battersea Park. It is strange to know the events since January 1972 so well and yet almost nothing of the years before. And on the 18th the diary began with all its day-to-day details. It would be interesting to read it now but -- there it is in London and undoubtedly just as well. 1040 jnt (one of those days). 1845 after jnts 2 and 3. Maryland chicken at the Kwality for lunch. Time mag and Watergate cont. Floating. Reviewing mind as beacon metaphor or a bank, any account in which is open if you know the "code". Then lowered altitude, or rather got somehow on the landing, and read a Perry Mason yarn, The Case of the Perjured Parrot, surely not for the first time.
15/5/73
Good sleep interrupted by 0130 mosquito hunt. Remember brief dream sequence about the gold ring Ed gave me, being valued as worth $4000! Sheer wish fulfillment. Awake at 0615 to very weird weather: heavy blanket of dust and/or fog, clouds, completely blotting out the earth below and the sky above. Thunder. Slight rain. Jnt and The Case of the Moth-Eaten Mink. 1325, jnt 2. At breakfast, hashish was mentioned and no one really knew the facts but I only murmured nonentities. They use bhang up here, mostly eaten. On through The Case of the Spurious Spinster. Cheap fiction + jnt = Mussoorie telly. Out for cigs and cakes (doubling bad and expensive habit). Jnt 3. Discontented again. Smoking is perhaps a bad habit. My life is composed of bad habits. I need something to do that I believe is WORTH doing. Much of this is impatience, waiting for word from London about money, but that's only the surface. What to do?
"Wherever conscious purpose is to be seen, there the truth and innocence of nature have been lost." What does matter? "Treasures": I Ching, this notebook, case with coins and pictures of Patricia and Egbert, Amsterdam bag and Cornwall Crescent shirt, but it grows weaker. Of course it doesn't matter. My conscience on conscious level is a product of conditioning and cannot be relied upon in the question of right or wrong. Does right matter? And if so, how does one determine right? Right-Wrong. Good-Evil. Pleasure-Pain or Pain-Pleasure.
I have been thinking often of early visions: that first real zap to Rotary Connection; the first time and the word sculptures on the green blanket; beacons; Hermann Hesse and the Library (could it have been Journey to the East?); of course the Holland Park bandstand; the self-hypnotic shower; the glowing arm that wrote; the all-things-must-pass. And do I seriously think of St. Mary Abbot's?
Had dinner in, military style cooking, cheap cut of meat+mash + cauliflower, salad and sweet. No tea or coffee. Mrs. Singh went to Delhi (guess she must have been here on holiday). Buddha Jayanti is on the 17th (full moon) and was on the 28th last year (also full moon) so I guess 2+2 = full moon in May. Question at dinner got rather frosty reception or was it hash paranoia? Dunno. 2205, jnt 4. Reading slightly absurd short story collection (1938), London Lovers, by one Denis MacKail.
16/5/73
Good sleep again with unremembered dreams. 0600 and much better weather. I am very much looking forward to the post from London, and not just the letter from Chris. It's slightly funny to remember what an important thing the post used to be at Cromwell Road (NYC, too, as I recall). In any case it is futile to expect it from Amex until next week (if at all). After breakfast, clouds rolled in and now (0915) thunder loudly rumbling. Pleasant conversation at breakfast. Splendid heavy rain, massive thunder and Jnt 1. The sound of rain and a distant radio. Thoughts of California and Chicota. Aunts and uncles. Seeking family. Jnt 2 swoon. Simon's sweater. And then the post arrived. They are all sadly irrelevant. Only Felix's inspires reply. 19-something. Got very smashed but had to pull myself together to attend birthday "high tea" with full company. Mr. B's birthday. Mrs. B. discussion: shocked by my respect for China; talked about Hindi films and threat of television; she told me how life had improved so much for the peons but had gotten so bad for her class she couldn't even have four servants anymore. Dismayed that her children don't bother with Hindi and that a baker's son is no longer automatically a baker. One new arrival would appear to be the most intelligent Indian I've yet encountered. Everyone full of suggestions, places I "must" see. Amusing parochial party. How Indians do romanticize the "village". Back to the farm. Short break and into social maelstrom again for quite good dinner. Very mentally tired. Bed at 2230. Moon and view of Dehra Dun beautiful. I go to the Buddha for refuge.
17/5/73
FULL MOON. BUDDHA BIRTHDAY. Day beginning cool, gray and cloudy. What was it I said about taking blue skies for granted? Breakfast (arranged to have all meals here for 20 rupees). Up to that ludicrous P.O., sent money order to Amex. Walked to Library Bazar. Snowcaps very visible. Lunch at table with English woman and children. 4-year-old girl reminds me of Rupert. 1400, Jnt 1. Drifted off to sleep until 1700. Sinking. Cold grey weather is one thing in a flat with heat and blankets (plus colour telly!) but something else in this cell. I wish I were in London. Money and the weather are powerful forces.
Hexagram 44. In a time of scanty resources ... the superior man controls his anger and restrains his instincts. Electricity keeps fading and generally stays at candle level. Cheerful dinner with English lady, Mrs. B. and the newlyweds. Got some blankets -- quite cool tonight. Dehra Dun looks magical below and the full moon. Those fool moon's eyes. Of course I don't really wish I were in London. It is good to be here, to be alone, to be forced to take the highs and lows without valium or Sombrero booze. I am looking for "results" too soon. 2150. Jnt 2 and bed.
18/5/73
I've kept a diary for one year. A legacy from Egbert that does please me. At 0630 the sky is hazy but perhaps improving. Very good sleep snug under blankets but last evening's feeling of not being completely well continues faintly. After breakfast feeling worse, chills and fever. Took a Chloro and buried myself under blankets. Heavy clouds and thunder again. Dreary weather. Feel like I've got the flu but it alternates between being ok and getting worse. The money situation is rather worrying. 30 pounds in hand and 50 in NYC isn't a hell of a lot, but it does mean three weeks in Mussoorie in relative comfort and I could make better use of it (i.e., give up cigarettes -- aha!). Soon I'll have no choice but to give up Jnts. Sigh. Joyousness that is weighed is not at peace. Went along to the Roanoke to meet Ramesh at 1700, out the Tehri Road to Woodstock School. Saw John's art classroom and had dinner with him and Dick in the staff dining room. Quite uncanny -- we had meat loaf, something I had been thinking about. Then to "concert" -- the school choir. They did all the same things we used to do at Frankfurt High (Robert Shaw arrangements and all). It was strange to be amongst so many Americans and in that schooldays atmosphere. Strange and fun. Invited to spend next weekend at their house. Dick walked back to Landour Bazar with us for a cup of tea. The moon (and clear sky) was very beautiful.
19/5/73
Once again starting clear and sunny. Wish it would stay this way. Feeling better (also thus far and same wish applies). For some reason my teeth are ultra-sensitive. Walk through Kulri and around Camel's Back Road. Woodstock students riding horses, including the boy who sat in front of me last night. Jnt 1. Sat for awhile until two cows came up the hill and wanted to climb past me. They waited around until I felt guilty and moved. Then they pretended for a few minutes that they didn't want to pass before finally climbing on up. Town full of tourists. Good lunch, including okra. Started reading John Creasey's Hunt the Toff. Discovered more books. Tea. Jnt 2 and read Perry Mason Case of the Stepdaughter's Secret. Boring dinner. One does get weary of enforced company at all meals. Like a cruise, I guess. On to The Case of the Smoking Chimney (these books don't last much longer than the television show).
20/5/73
Good sleep. Bright sunny Sunday. Breakfast and a walk up to get cigarettes. And at 0930 India 2. 1210. Walked past Happy Valley. Happy old man in Buddhist dress stopped me and showed me a pair of temple bells. He wanted to trade them for my Amsterdam bag. I gave a little boy a marble I had found. Must buy some marbles. Walked through Municipal Gardens and am now beyond them in a place overlooking Happy Valley, the Temple and Shrine. Of course it is always best to be secluded with nature said Lao-Tse and Timothy Leary. Jnt. Patrishia and Egbert. An old man with two boys passed carrying back-baskets of daisies. The old man returned. Four Tibetan or Chinese boys passed and returned. Poor little Tibetans in Western clothes will never be as rich as their parents. Two men carrying wood cushioned by leafs passed; one talked constantly and the other grunted. India 2, for Timothy Leary. It is not I who seek the young fool. Do I dare to eat a peach. Disposable gas lighter about to expire. Timers.
1630. Back at Y. Bunch of girls arrived from Delhi. English lady has a rather sour English husband, quite an improbable couple. 1720. After tea (yummy). Jnt 2. 1920. Long think. Shampoo. Be like the sun at midday. Jnt 3. Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe. 2150. Good dinner. Could have eaten twice as much. End of India 2. An exceptionally nice Sunday.
21/5/73
Very strange and vivid dreams, behind the lines of a German invasion working in a bar. Unlike any dream I can recall. 0600, bright and sunny. India 2 was a very good time. Saraha's edict about the bird has introduced an element of morality but even so, Leary's translation of the Tao te Ching led me out into the forest and beyond. 1005. Jnt 1. No cig papers but emptying India cigs no chore. This Afghani is potent and odd (or is it the altitude -- reaction not the same in Delhi). Strong hunger, sometimes dopiness to the point of semi-consciousness and maybe a slight depressive influence. Joyousness that is weighed is not at t'ai. Flew about, got very hungry. Large lunch (I could get fat here). Slept for an hour and a half. Started The Nylon Pirates by Nicholas Monsarrat. Skimpy tea. Jnt 2. Thought of writing another begging letter but not in the right frame of mind. Dinner of military chunks of meat and noodles. It seems almost a battle at times to grab food from the old ladies. Then a fairly tedious "programme" by the schoolgirls extended by the English woman's husband who suddenly and inexplicably decided to become the life of the party (yawn). The novel is a good yarn about a swindling team on a wealthy cruise ship, interesting enough to make me want to be on a ship.
22/5/73
0600 as usual and sunny day. Only one cigarette to have with morning tea. Finished book. Up to bank, changed ten pounds and had a soda at Kwality. Walked through Kulri. Beautiful day. Handful of Westerners about. The Bhakti Bhavan has repainted its sign, "The Relegion of Love". Re-legion? Anyway, decided to stay here until Solstice but maybe a few days in Delhi to pick up suitcase and hsh? Would like to keep this room. Started By Love Possessed, very wordy novel by James Gould Cozzens. Dreadful lunch -- moved back to the other table so the growing battle with the old bags is suspended. Jnt 2. Addlepation, thoughts flying in all directions until conk out. I thought of Buck and a red Triumph and a Holiday Inn, Alabama. "The campers" made some dull concoction for tea. Jnt 2 and 3. Concentration on a piece of string. Couldn't keep up Golden Flower exercise very long. Sunset. Childhood map game. Dinner. Bed.
23/5/73
Stupid dog barking at 0500 started the day going but went back to sleep until six. Breakfast. New family, talkative man who works with Air India. Paper headlining the army's move into Lucknow University after the burnings. Sat in sun for awhile. Trimmed hair and shampoo. Drab lunch again. 1340, Jnt 1. Jnt 2 after walk for cigs and two Crackle extravagances. Tea and minute (microscopic) biscuits. 1830 and Jnt 3. Oh to hear Deja Vu. Wasn't sure before but I've got a cold. How ridiculous. Roast mutton, potatoes and carrots made for a better dinner (I only ate such typically English food at Marcus and Vicente's). To bed just after ten.
24/5/73
A year ago it was Grateful Dead at the Lyceum. Slept late with an 0300 wake-up for codeine (supply running low, I begin to need that suitcase). The cold is different than it would be in London, only faintest symptoms of sore throat to start and now just sniffles. More of a nuisance than a real discomfort. Anyway, it's a beautiful day. I wish the post would come. It was about this time last year that I had that awful HPG cold. Day at Municipal Gardens, first out on the road beyond and then the Y crew arrived for the "picnic". Back around 1830. Dreary dinner and the cold raging on. No hsh day.
25/5/73
Friday (sometimes one forgets the day). Sunshine of course. Dripping nose. Routine. Continuing the turgid book. 1530 Jnt. My own company and Jnt 2 and 3. Someone has come who plays front parlor piano.
26/5/73
Amusing dreams about building a fantasy house. Stomach acting up a bit but worst of the cold seems to have passed. Walked up to Suncliffe. Dick gone to Dehra Dun and John away most of the day so sat on the veranda and enjoyed the sun and view. Read the two most recent issues of Time and started (finally!) McLuhan's Gutenberg Galaxy. Everyone back for dinner (and their cook is excellent) and then on to the concert of Indian music. The pieces were too brief but it was most enjoyable. Back to Suncliffe for beer under the stars. I've never seen the Milky Way so vividly and there were many meteors. Very beautiful. Jupiter was dramatically visible just before midnight. Then to a Western bed for a good sleep.
27/5/73
Day spent lazily reading (with an afternoon nap and crazy dreams). The proposal has been made that I teach art (high school level) at Woodstock. Omigod. I'm thinking about it until Tuesday. Finally got the urge to leave and so walked back to town, had a beer at Kwality and back to the Y. Nice weekend (if somewhat muddled by the possibility of a job). The McLuhan book is superb. Cold completely gone and stomach ok. Tired though.
28/5/73
King's College Chapel, 1972. It begins to seem longer than a year. 0615 after more strange dreams, familiar hotel setting (why have I always dreamt so much of hotels and department stores?). Took awhile to locate a reasonably comfortable spot in the bed after the luxury of Suncliffe. One month in Mussoorie. I would like to go to Delhi. Did financial calculations which are dire to say the least, already owe 320 rupees here. Walked out to the Municipal Gardens with a pleasant Canadian woman, her daughter, an Indian woman and her daughter. Then to Happy Valley, the temple and lunch at the Tibetan Restaurant. Amazing storm blew in as we were returning -- clouds in swirling, boiling masses, thunder and lightning. Had to take shelter as heavy rain and hail started. Got back to Y just before tea time. Still cool and very windy but sunny again. Time for a jnt. Another (briefer) storm. 2115. Dinner to thunder and lightning, now heavy rain and wind, as the storm approached. Lights going on and off. Jnt 2. Canadian worries about every detail of their Wednesday departure. McLuhan: Hypnotism is the emphasis on only one sense, to the exclusion of all others. Headphones. Fixed visual spot. Loud music, though, can even break the perpetual inner conversation. Electronic yearnings? Pink Floyd, I miss you.
29/5/73
Long and elaborate dreams, a good evening and most entertaining night. Mr. B. was writing yesterday with a felt-tipped pen. Should I go to Delhi tomorrow? Hexagram 33, 5th line. I think that could be taken either way. Decided not to go. Up to P.O. to send another money order to Amex, usual frustrating scene. Don't want to go to Suncliffe tonight. Surprisingly good lunch. Then Mrs. B. announced that not only do I have to give up this room but she's not even sure she can find me another. I would be inclined to do a flit except for the post. Anyway, have to vacate here after tomorrow and have another room until the 5th and then??? It looks enough like rain to excuse skipping Suncliffe. Went looking for the wine shop where the Woodstock students said you could buy bhaang but couldn't find it. Checked with Ramesh who doesn't know. Had sodas with him at Kwality and agreed to join him for the film tonight. Finally finished that dreary Cozzens book. Jnt 1 (and nearing end of supply). ZAP and 2. Dinner and on to see "Seeta aur Geeta". Very fast and amusing film only flawed by an overextended finale. Quite operatic in plot and style. Didn't get back to the Y until 0115.
30/5/73
Last day in the sunset-view room. Must decide what to do about money. Then Mrs. B. said at breakfast that I can stay on until the 15th (and can have this room back on the 4th or 5th). You never know where you're at from one day to the next. English lady and brats are leaving; also the Canadian lady. 2130. Enjoyable day "at home" (except for brief stop in P.O. to get stamps). American lady (also considering Woodstock job); the teacher from Lucknow University and the doctor and his family from Bombay (unfortunately leaving tomorrow) made up the new table and a much more interesting group it is. The doctor's son is a sweet boy whose voice is changing; the American is interested in all the legendary lore of the "mysterious East" (the first one of those I've encountered) and we talked for several hours after tea. The Indians of course take all that as a joke. Should be quite a lot of new people arriving in the next few days. A very gray and cool day with occasional rain. Spent a lot of time sewing more patches on my Levi's. Have done all I can about the money and post problems so nothing to do but sit back and see what happens.
31/5/73
End of May starting bright and sunny. Busy dreams (including arrival of post, plus a very odd sequence involving two people talking with a screen between them; a murder: "why did you kill him, I'll soon be as developed as he was"; watching a fellow loner, maybe Dusty Springfield, pacing the floor -- weird). At breakfast Mrs. B. said I could keep the room until the 8th. Princess Anne announced her engagement at last. Bhaang is a grass and costs 25p a packet, about half an ounce. #1 was pleasant, #2 paralyzing for 45 minutes. I can't believe it. An exceptionally nice discovery. The effect lasted about one and a half hours. It is subtle stuff, effect totally over after three hours. Fun to have a new experiment. 1950, #4. Strong appetite at dinner.
1/6/73
June. Cloudy and cool. I can remember writing last year that a new month brings "illogical new energy", but can't say I feel it so much this year. Nice dreams about Asian wanderings (Bangkok, etc.) but waking brings the reality of rapidly dwindling money. If the Amex post would come I could determine much better what to do. The calendar quote for June is: No person will have occasion to complain of the want of time who never loses any. I would like to go to Delhi for a week, down to Agra for a night and then on to Nepal. Then to Kashmir and over to Kabul. 0935, BJnt 1. Hello, new month and one cap into India 3. Neutrogena soap. 1230. Americans are persona non grata in India now said the old bag from Lucknow. 1400. Jnt, and last. 1500. Thunder. Went away. 1725, BJnt. 1815. Old lady has a visitor and they talk (mostly in Hindi except for occasional "blood test", "sugar test", "blood pressure", etc.). Be here now. A dreadful new child has arrived who repeats phrases over and over in a whine and they aren't mantras. Sacrificial spoon and chalice. 1925. Hungry. Sometimes it's Shangri-La, sometimes it's Mordor. 2205. Dinner. Walk up for cigs and Crackle. Gave last traveler's cheques for bill. Have now left the have-money class and joined the waiting-for-money crowd. Nice day.
2/6/73
Woke at 0530, cig and back to sleep for an hour. Shampoo and splash in spartan splendour (?). Well, it was cold anyway. Very clear sky. Walked out to Happy Valley with two boys (brothers) from Sri Lanka, up to the shrine and also into the temple. Letter from Amex, no post. Wrote to Mom as a doublecheck but it looks like things are in a mess. Went to Kwality for soda (Nero fiddling?) and met Dick, said no to teaching, blamed weather for delayed re-visit (not just an excuse, another storm just coming in now). Reading Ching. The SL brothers have a cassette machine. James Taylor "I've seen fire and I've seen rain" making me very homesick. The older brother (23-24?) is much like Alastair; the younger like Richard Loh but Asian versions (R.L. being Chinese makes that a complete absurdity). Missionary nurse from Bournemouth (7 years in India) a nice addition to our table. Mr. B. returned Amex cheques for me to deposit so I'll have the change. If I can wheedle Mrs. B into getting me a room until the money arrives from California all will be temp ok, but I want to move on ...
3/6/73
Patricia's birthday. Sunday. 0600. Starting clear and sunny again. Much ado is being made of the fact that the Queen's Chaplain is taking the services at the church today. Big deal. That little brat does have an exceptionally irritating voice. Wrote to Mark asking for 300 rupees against a 50 pound cheque, don't think it's wise to depend on the California SOS alone. BJnt 1, 2 and 3. Got very hungry. Luckily lunch was pretty good. 1530. Lazy day. Group at table in good spirits and amusing. Spaghetti. Wrote letters.
4/6/73
0530 and a beautiful morning. "Now he beats the drum" could apply to my love affair with Mussoorie. Wrote to Derek asking for money to be paid to NYC, cabled Chris. Met the filmmaker who lives above Woodstock, came back to Y for a BJnt. Clouds have come in. Went up to get some instant coffee, Mrs. B said no milk and sugar but then changed her mind. Up to the bazar with "Alastair" for a people-watching sit, but another storm blew in. Dull dinner but the coffee (instant Nescafe) is really quite good.
5/6/73
0630. Starting sunny, wish it would stay clear. I'd like a day at Bhatta. Post arrived. First two MG invoices have gone astray so I still don't know how much it is. Went down to Bhatta with the SL Bros. Very hot and they have such impatient heads, but it was nice to see that idyllic spot again. I give up on those two, though, in a hopeless rush all the time. Felt rather low but dinner (although lousy fish) was a cheerful affair and I had coffee with the American lady. Then one of the newly arrived missionary ladies from New Zealand played the piano and we sang hymns. First time I've sung "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" since Atlanta. Now there's a thought and a half. Large scorpion (shudder).
6/6/73
"Late" 0640 (awakened by bed tea arrival). 1050, BJnt. Conked out until 1230. Lunch. BJnt 2. Did it again until 1600. Hot day. Tea. BJnt 3. Reading Human Destiny by Lecomte du Nouy, recommended by Lucknow Lil. BJnt 4. Dinner.
7/6/73
0615. Nice dreams. Clouds rolling in after breakfast. Probably the last day in the room with a view. The purpose of this life is to be brought to the highest pitch of world-weariness. Kierkegaard quoted by Ramakrishnan in Religious Thought and Modern Civilization. BJnt 1. Lunch and some new people. Aldous Huxley's Time Must Have a Stop. BJnt 2. 1920. That was an exceptionally nice surprise and I'm amazed I haven't come across it before. It's a 1945 First English Edition. In the list of his books there is one called Do What You Will. But this book is second only to Island in its wealth of information and passages of remarkable pertinancy. There is a long after-death sequence which is a fictionalization of the Tibetan Book of the Dead with the character attempting to regain the "solid" time/space orientation and vigorously resisting a merging with the light (whose colour goes through the shifts of the sinking path through the Bardos).
It is good to have made that vicarious journey. The principles of after-death navigation may be the most important acquisition of this lifetime; certainly the significant byproduct of this dope and dopers involvement. But if I am so much like Sebastien and cannot resist even the habit of nicotine, can I expect like Eustace to be unable to resist the habit of corporeality? (I'm a mockingbird). Only by being indulgent with words can I hope to make this an accurate reflection of my inner location because the drawings (with a few exceptions) are too inhibited --- or disciplined?
But thought's the slave of life, and life's time's fool, and time, that takes survey of all the world, must have a stop. Shakespeare.
2150. After dinner BJnt 4. Old ladies cackling away upstairs. The last night in this room is really like the end of the Mussoorie period. It has been a more wonderful time than this record perhaps shows. There is a tendency to record doubts and low moments. The joys of life here are composed of details which are either impossible to adequately note or which lose their magic in verbal translation. Gushing strings and mandolins. Murmur of voices. Crickets. A distant dog.
8/6/73
0615. Only remembered dream that of a flying scorpion (as if the earthbound reality isn't more than enough). A low cloud making Vincent Hill invisible. Shampoo and wash. Pack everything for changing rooms and at breakfast Mrs. B said she made a mistake and it's tomorrow that I have to change. She's so dizzy I don't see how the Y can survive. Everything is totally enveloped in heavy fog. Lucknow Lil says it is like this in monsoon but with pouring rain as well. The Rialto is showing "Shane" today ("Love Story" on Sunday and Monday!). Read Macbeth. Naught's had, all's spent, where our desire is got without content: 'tis safer to be that which we destroy than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. Lunch and from Shakespeare to Homer and the Iliad. Achilles and Agamemnon. Charming, the way Venus snatches Paris from the duel with Menelaus. Deus ex machina with a vengeance. It is all so novel that absolutely no memory chord is struck and it is like a first encounter. Helen wondering where Castor and Pollux were (and my memory is so bad I cannot remember which one wept). Diomed did a nice job of getting Venus and Mars out of the battle. Diomed, challenger of the gods. The setting sun in the still low, dense clouds creates a most unusual effect. (2030) Finished Book IX. Rissoles and baked beans and burned rice pudding. Army chow. Back to Troy.
9/6/73
Never have I seen such a morning. The rain falling in torrents, thunder and lightning. But the storm is not above. We sit in the clouds. I smoked my last cigarette with tea and wonder if even nicotine hunger can send me into the maelstrom. "An American with an English accent" (said Mrs. B) arrives today, as does the doctor who takes this room, and there is a fete at Woodstock (in this pre-monsoon sample?). Saturday, as though it matters. The childhood map game [drawn on preceding two pages] revived in the days of adult boredom. But we used to make the towns and cities with pencil and an eraser was a bomb. Ink cities have a dull permanence. Game without war is frozen. 9 June 1973. Last year it was a trip with Egbert. Breakfast and change to room in the "old men's annex". The bed is much better but there's no view. The Judge as next door neighbour. Got a glimpse of the American -- Chicago. Told the B's I was thinking of staying until the end of the month (but surely with a trip to Delhi?). Rain stopped but we're still in the clouds. All in all, the Iliad is a dull book despite its awesome reputation. American's name is Michael, studied at Delhi University, here to "write something". Amusing time at lunch. Slow progress with Homer. Walk through town with Michael and NYC lady (never can remember her name). Lucknow Lil is Misra, Miss Misra. Michael knows where Alpert's guru is (and not nearly so inaccessible as one would have thought). After dinner had brandy with him in his room. Talked of Laing and gurus, cabbages and kings.
10/6/73
Sunday. 0600. In the clouds again. The Judge has a radio. At the Tavern yesterday they played John Lennon. 1130-BJnt. It's another attack of Hate India. Gave up temporarily on Trojan turmoils and into Sinclair Lewis' Dodsworth. A most amusing and appropriate choice (more relevant than Homer). I know I've read it before. Sometimes lousy memory is a blessing. (2025) Finished the book and enjoyed it thoroughly. Sat on upstairs veranda for awhile after dinner and then brandy ("musk brandy") with Michael. Talk of India, getting progressively sillier, until 0200.
11/6/73
0425 -- FIERCE STORM. Brief sleep (altho not very bothered by the brevity). Aldous Huxley's After Many a Summer Dies the Swan. Beautiful book. Read until grisly lunch. The post drew a blank, with 12 rupees left. Countdown is really underway. (1835) Trimmed hair and shampoo. Huxley lets the Propter character ramble on to such an extent that it damages the basic flow of the novel. This pen is going dry. NYC lady left for Kathmandu. I "forgot" to return her mosquito repellent. Sorry to see her go. Dinner and evening drinks with Michael who had been shaken by Divided Self and was in a strange mood. "Of course one sleeps with one's guru ... provided women and 16-year-old boys ... Westerners and orgies in Delhi." But under all the tales runs the I'd rather do it myself bane of all good Jewish boys everywhere. Portnoy in India.
12/6/73
0600. Kept awake by a cat duet and a persistent mosquito but finally got 3-1/2 hours sleep. Mrs. B vague (as usual) about my return to the other room. Nothing in the morning post. Finished Huxley and smoked a lot of bhaang. Good chow lunch of beans, rice, potatoes, some turnip-like greens. But I do not mind if I never see another mango. Slept until tea and then walked with Michael to Library Bazar. After dinner, a brief Bible reading and then sat on the upstairs veranda. Michael gave me four methedrine tabs (!). Laing's Divided Self.
13/6/73
0545. Pouring rain. Sri Lankan family left after breakfast. Coming and going. Walk up to get cigs and bhaang. No more money. I have joined the penniless masses. BJnt+meth. Strange, I suddenly remember words-on-a-page becoming multi-coloured and the medieval trip when I wrote and sprays of decorative embellishments hallucinated. Lunch. Bright colours and clouds drifting through the room.
My auntie lopes across the beach
A fleet of grashen hair
My auntie said she'd like to teach
Indians not to stare.
(2145) Finished off the meth (of course) and lots of bhaang. A highly interesting experiment but without the allure it has with strong grass and music. Laing so loaded with relevance.
14/6/73
Got to sleep around 0130, woke at 0530. Very interesting dreams frustratingly forgotten. Raining.
It is not possible to go on living indefinitely in a sane way if one tries to be a man disconnected from all others and uncoupled even from a large part of one's own being.
Great gabfest after breakfast between the Judge, the doctor with the 1000-watt voice, etc. and hammering in the kitchen doesn't make for a good reading environment. No more cigarettes, rolling some with tobacco left from emptying. But the end approaches. Letter from Chris, 134 pounds due from MG! Splendid news and end of money problem for several months if caution prevails. [Later note: if I'd ever gotten it].
Finished Laing and started on the Bible. Played Scrabble with Lucknow Lil (it's actually Kate) and the NZ missionary lady. Thoroughly dreary food for dinner. Brief "prayer meeting" led by NZ woman. She picked a very difficult hymn and the two of them screeched away. Good intentions don't suffice. Mrs. B said thirty American students are coming up on the 18th but there's no room for them here. It will seem like an invasion in the town anyway. 2200 and the last cigarette. No more rolling papers. this was a very good day.
15/6/73
0530. Went back to sleep after tea because I couldn't otherwise stop thinking of a cigarette. Into the struggle I go. Did the same after breakfast and now ... ? Lunch was ghastly. Played Scrabble after tea. Had one cigarette from Michael which made me dizzy. But backsliding after dinner when Michael offered to buy me a beer. Went to Kwality. Beer and four cigs.
16/6/73
0615 after dream-filled night. Heavy mist and rain. Full moon. Nicotine mania not too bad until about 1030. Continuing Genesis and into Exodus. 2:22 Stranger in a strange land. Better lunch. No post. Borrowed 12 rupees from Michael. BJnt and slept until tea. Walk to Library Bazar. Such a dreary day of cloud and dust.
17/6/73
0630. Sunday. Slept again after breakfast. Read Agatha Christie's Lord Edgeware Dies. Routine day.
18/6/73
0600 after busy dreams. Vague memory of them is annoying. So, week of the Solstice. No post. Reading Muriel Spark's delightful Memento Mori and The Girls of Slender Means. Played Scrabble.
19/6/73
Awakended by news on radio at 0600. Nothing but bigwig meetings (Nixon and Brezhnev, Gandhi and Trudeau, Indian and Swedish foreign ministers, Pakistani and Chinese -- well, at least everyone is talking). Response to food gong and immersion in another mammoth GreatAmericanNovel, Not As a Stranger by Morton Thompson. Adequate time spinner about the medical racket. No post, and getting more annoying.
20/6/73
Dreamed that Ann and Sabrina rented a house in Ireland and I was also thinking of taking one. The money situation is really only a worry because I want to leave for Kathmandu, and that is partly the subtle pressure of Michael (as it was of Nancy before him). There's no hurry. I've got two weeks before the visa becomes a problem. And yet, no morning post. Finished that ghastly novel. Up to Kwality for beer with Michael after dinner. Michael slightly drunk and tiresome.
21/6/73
Solstice and the rain keeps on falling. Elegantly charming book, Farthing Hall, by Walpole and Priestley, written as a correspondence. Lots of holiday bhaang. Non-stop rain. Letter from Fran with fifty dollar certified cheque. Michael proposes to leave tomorrow for Rishikesh-Hardware-Delhi. By getting money from him for my cheque, could join him. Hexagram 42, 5th line. That would indicate a positive reaction to the scheme and yet another few days here could mean getting caught-up on post. Too many days, though, and I'd be back with no money and having to wait for more. Delhi on Tuesday might be a better plan. (Later) No, the Ching really is quite specific and if I can get cash for that cheque, I might as well go. But I am reluctant to leave this sanctuary!
STRANGE SUMMER SOLSTICE.
(After dinner) Decided to go.
LAST NIGHT IN MUSSOORIE.
(2345) End of the first non-trip Solstice in three years.
22/6/73
Dog duet at 0515 became a trio with a rooster. Back to sleep until 0600 when banging in the main building started. India is so damned noisy. Shampoo and "bath" (the luxury of a bucket of hot water). Farewells and a rapid pleasant journey by taxi to Dehra Dun and on to RISHIKESH.
Dirty hubbub of a place with hordes of flies. Settled quickly into a tolerable hotel and took a horse-drawn tonga to the Ganges. Crossed over swaying suspension footbridge to the ultra-vulgar Disneyland of temples and ashrams which line the river like the Brighton Beach. Walked the length of the lot and up the hill to the Maharishi's place, a seedy, deserted complex. Extremely sticky heat. This is India as one imagined it and without question the first place where I neither wish to remain or revisit. Garish, noisy and a veritable plague of flies. But very pleased to make a brief visit. Before leaving Mussoorie bought some librium which makes the intolerable merely an amusing adventure. Thoughts, of course, of George, John, Paul and Ringo. Out for dinner at a ghastly restaurant, had only coffee and toast. Short walk and very noisy night.
23/6/73
Eggs and tea at the hotel. Another walk through town and down to the Ganges. Dipped a finger in. Unbearably hot and sticky. Took a taxi to HARDWAR.
Very pleasant hotel (Gurudev) with foam mattress, fan, shower and piped music. Relieved collapse. Took a precarious bicycle-rickshaw to a bathing ghat on the Ganges. Quite a revolting scene in a way, infinitely remote from the Gita or the idealistic concept of Krishna of acid memory. From Disneyland to Coney Island. The river is FILTHY. Lovely little leaf boats filled with coloured flowers and with lighted candles set afloat at twilight, but the overall effect of the "holy" river scene was enough to put me off Hinduism forever. Walked back through town and had relatively decent dinner of saag paneer, cheese kofta and chips. Then passed a rowdy wedding party and was dragged into the mob by a drunken Sikh and pushed around. Bloody Sikhs. Back to the luxury of the hotel, the only nice thing about this dump called Hardwar.
24/6/73
Amazingly sound sleep. Out for coffee and toast. Very hot. Lazy Sunday. Solo lunch of cheese kofta, daal, roti and chocolate ice cream. Then just lounging around doing nothing. Hardwar holds no further interest for me and I'm looking forward to getting to Delhi tomorrow.
(Later) How much different it might have been here on my own. Went out for masala dosa and iced tea dinner and then slowly walked (my suggestion) through the narrow bazar instead of on the traffic-ridden main street. Without the mobs, the main ghat was lovely and I tagged along behind Michael and was consequently spared the non-stop babble and could re-experience the magic of smile power. Sat for a time by the river and dipped my rabbit's foot in it. Michael took a rickshaw back to hotel and I walked along the river through an old section with intricately carved buildings -- beautiful. A colossal bust of Siva with water trickling from its forehead. Smiling dark eyes again. India should be a solo experience. One way or another, Westerners get very fucked up here. A good evening.
25/6/73
Couldn't sleep (too much in daytime) so woke feeling weary. Tea and packing, into the tiresome taxi journey to DELHI again. Very glad to be back although it's hot as hell. Nice room at the YMCA Tourist Hostel, shared bath but pleasant place and lots of Westerners. Relieved to be rid of Michael. With him everything was a hassle. Immediately I was on my own, things became brighter. Had lunch (staggering 8 rupees!) and went to get my suitcase from Ranjit. Back for brief sleep, then visit to the juice bar and Connaught Place. Came back to find Michael waiting. Gave him 20 pound cheque and off he went. Feeling weary. Went to good old Union for delicious club sandwich, chips and iced tea plus glorious air conditioning. It's so hot that sweat pours non-stop. Then strolled through the park looking for dopers, couldn't find any. Persistent Indian fairy wouldn't leave me alone. Finally came back for shower #4.
26/6/73
Tea at 0700. Good breakfast, included in room fee of 25 rupees. Got two tolas of Nepali (Rs. 12@) from some guys shooting-up in the park. Went to Amex, they said cable NYC. Takes a week. Came back for wipe-out joint. Muddle. Heat very, very bad. Rash on my neck. This stuff is atomic. 1245-#2. Visions. 1630. Power failure. Went to see Mark who didn't volunteer so am at a loss about what to do and this heat is so intolerable. With no fan it is definitely HELL. 1820. Power back. Went for brief walk but continually dripping with sweat. 2130. Discovered I can sign for food here, a relief. So I'm saved again. Now to relax with more of that yummy stuff. Wish I had music.
27/6/73
Had two jnts and fell asleep while just lying on bed. Woke around 0500 and slept again until 0700. No electricity again. What a mess. (1200) Better results today so far. Went to Mark's office and borrowed Rs.100. Back to First National who say contact NYC (sigh). Got 20 librium and 20 valium from C.P. chemists, but nix on dex. Power comes on and off erratically, but beginning to adjust to heat a little. Went to Oberoi bar, met Mark and a business associate. Combination of jnt, valium, beer and no food had me totally smashed. Staggered home to find someone with a transistor on the terrace and Airplane's "We Should Be Together" playing. Spent too much money.
28/6/73
Day starting delightfully cool. Monsoon expected next week says paper. Went to juice bar. Two jnts and Rolling Stones. Then to park until a sudden miraculous storm began. Pouring rain and got soaked. A short sleep, lunch, and at 1500: India 4 (one and final cap). (2355) Spent too much time at juice bar with Stones. Then to Jantar Mantar. Delhi "trap" starts to work. How I wish I had that money.
INDIA MY APOTHEOSIS
PLEASE CONTRIBUTE TO
DECLINE AND FALL.
CABLE AMERICAN EXPRESS
NEW DELHI ANY AMOUNT.
29/6/73
0630 and warmer already than it was yesterday. No wonder it was so pleasant, max temp was 90 degrees. But today we'll melt. Would be nice if Mussoorie post would come, otherwise it'll be back to Mark this afternoon. The time yesterday was strange. Cap very weak and this Nepali has strong lift-off but doesn't last long. It would be wonderful to get some real acid. (1600) Went to see Mark. His managing director called Gindlay's and presto! Colin's cheque was cashed. Went to lunch at Imperial and to juice bar. Scored four tabs of white lightning. Just took one so hope they're good stuff. Also gave me a lump of hsh. Oh happy day. APOTHEOSIS II. India 5. (2420) Not atomic stuff but good. Spent lot of time at juice bar. Bought nice little Nepalese trinket from a happy two-year vet. Wanted to be higher. Sat in park and then to Oberoi for drinks and cheeseburger. Crazy. Can have much more fun with the freaks. I do enjoy Delhi.
LAST DAY OF THE MONTH
LAST DAY OF THIS DIARY
TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE SUN
There is so much I would like to write about these past few days. Something strange is happening I think but I am not sure what just yet.
30/6/73
End of June. 0630. Morning warm and muggy. Temp yesterday only 99 but the humidity made it seem twice as bad. 0910 and Jnt. Ah yes. (But no valium). Juice bar. Exile on Main Street. Tab approx. 1100. APOTHEOSIS III. India 6. Work compulsion weaker. (1430) Conked out awhile. TOTAL ECLIPSE. (1445) Tab 2. (1810) Juice bar and Stones. Meth tomorrow, smack now. Oh my.
That was a wonderful finale to June. Sniffed a bit much of the heroin and felt wobbly but oh so HIGH. Sat in juice bar. Dishy Englishman came in for awhile. Must get Airplane and Floyd tapes for them. Then to park. Had a massage which was fun. Staggered home and fell asleep with light on. And now the next volume begins.
1/7/73
July. New Moon. 0730. Shower. Breakfast with English boy. Snort and jnt. Fell asleep until 1330. Then to juice bar. Not many people and no dealers. Too hot to be outside. Very stoned. (2145) Went to sleep again! Ridiculous but a natural reaction to a post (3 day) trip. The Nepalese hasn't got the creative spark of the Afghani.
2/7/73
0700. Already beastly hot. Visa chores today. (1300) As expected, bureaucratic games but with any luck will have my extension later this afternoon. Not too interesting crowd at juice bar but scored two more White Lightnings. Valiums as counter-hassles. Heavy downpour of rain during lunch. (1745) Miraculously visa was ready and I can stay until 8 October. Back to bar, again no action. Too early for park. Still no post from Mussoorie. Wanna go higher.
MUSSORIE WAS AN INNER TRIP
BUT DELHI IS EXTERNAL INTEREACTION
Dinner at Union. Just can't really get off the ground today despite the visa victory. The high and low has too much to do with money.
3/7/73
0630. Beautiful morning. Monsoon expected in Delhi within 48 hours and it rained everywhere yesterday. 1305 and most certainly INDIA VII. 2 tabs about 1015 and 4 jnts. I ordered iced tea and now have to wait for it to come (sigh). All that done can relax with a joint and continue wondering why.
1745. Got shitty letter from Ilise. Well at least some post came through. 2210. Ice cream at Union. Walk through Jantar Mantar. Juice bar. Park. I seem to have been thrown out of the Magick Theatre again. Had a shower and jnt and the next thing I knew it was 0530 and I had fallen asleep with the light on again.
4/7/73
Independence Day. Breakfast with English boy. Didn't cool off last night so already beastly hot. Post arrived. Jnt and wrote to Michael. Then into a half-sleep and marvelous dreams/fantasies. Had a choc bar and wrote to A+M. Their card is the nicest thing anyone has sent me out here. Letters from other people don't seem to understand at all that I'm in another world from them. Michael at least prefaced his tales of "almost-in" NYC with the thought that he'd sound like "a fly buzzing at a great distance". I feel so little affection for him. The initial acid experience would have been so much different with a more loving person. Thank God there was Egbert. 1850 and a holiday drink. Would like to go to the Oberoi but that would be crazy with only about Rs.30 left. So weary of this heat. Monsoon now several days overdue and most needed.
5/7/73
And the rains have come. Gray sky, light drizzle and wonderfully cool air. Slept until 0830. Continuing librium started yesterday. Juice and joints and Stones. Dope becomes illegal in Nepal on the 17th. Pity. Went to Amex, no post, no money. Sweet Virginia. 1310. INDIA VIII. (2000) Went to juice bar. Stones and French freaks. Long rap from two "Children of God" in the park. Sunset at Jantar Mantar. (2315) Jnt. Put on chamois trousers and boots (first time in India). Dinner. Coffee at the Ramble with the English boy. Nice conversation. A good day.
6/7/73
Slept until 0900. Yesterday's temperature was 89, no wonder it was so pleasant. Today looks like being another scorcher. $100 arrived from Fran. Went up to repay Mark. Dinner date for next week. Juice bar. Got dubious bit of hash (haven't tried it yet tho). Union for lunch. Smoked chillum with French freaks in the park. So nice to have money again -- it seems to make me higher than anything else. Just smoked a little. Not bad for Rs.10. (0120) Met two newly arrived Californians, Ron and Stan. Dealers. Went to park and then to their hotel for brandy and a snort of the Big H. And will I not cross the barrier eventually?
7/7/73
Woke at 0630 after light sleep (partly pondering how to sort out money to cover idiocies like gram of heroin at Rs.100). Sunny. That shower was certainly not monsoon. Went to Amex, nothing, and to juice bar. Joined some people for lunch at the Cellar. Nice place. Got bill for 25/6 - 3/7. Went to juice bar and got very stoned. Suddenly felt so tired of the people and all the chasing around for dope so came back and rested. It's more of a hassle sometimes to score here than in London. (0200) Had a jnt and conked out. Just woke up, having missed dinner and/or other possible Saturday night amusements. Strange.
8/7/73
0630 after good sleep. Sunday papers. Otto Klemperer and Veronica Lake died. Looks like being another very hot day. Felt very discouraged at one point yesterday. Life in Delhi is so expensive that I wonder if I'll ever manage to get enough money out here to leave the city. It goes before it's even here. Three months since leaving London. Breakfast. (1835) Juice bar. Weird ultra-destitute there. Went to York Hotel, bunch of people at Ron and Stan's. That dope all the fuss was about isn't anything special. Back to juice bar for awhile and on the Cellar. Jimi Hendrix record. That German "organizer" begins to bug me with his non-stop rap about fantastic deals and Stan is also very on/off and so hungry for dope and sex. He's bound to get well ripped-off. Feel a little sorry for Ron who would be much nicer on his own. Gave roomboy Rs.15 for some Kashmiri, wonder if he'll actually get it. Jnt. Can't get into reading in Delhi. Bits of the Penguin Buddhist scriptures and Magister Ludi but not with the same engrossing attention possible in the mountains. Probably partly the heat.
9/7/73
Awakened at 0600 by delivery of the Kasmiri (beats a milkman anyway). Still no sign of the rains. Breakfast and mild jnt. Quite decent stuff, yes, very nice. (1325) Seems to be shopping day. To juice bar and tola of VERY nice Afghani for Rs.15. Interesting crowd. That far-off blonde guy with his eyes which are probably madman's. I'm especially intrigued by him. Short blonde hair and stubbly beard, nice face but terrible teeth, 24-26, wears dirty white Indian clothes. Sometimes radiates warmth, sometimes hostility, but the vibes are strong either way. Found myself thinking of him sexually today for the first time. A pretty young Mexican-looking boy who bought me a Coke. Went to Amex, nothing. Cellar closed, so had sandwich at Kwality. Knocked out until 1500. Then the power went off and I melted. That jnt was atomic. Now, 1600, another Kashmiri as the pen slowly dies. I cannot think of suitable last words for a Papermate. (2115) Fell asleep after half of the jnt and woke at eight feeling annoyed at this continual bit of passing out. Maybe smoking too much per jnt? Had dinner in. Have run out of librium which may be just as well.
10/7/73
0700. Some mosquito found its way to places not covered with repellent. Clear, sunny again. Bound to be another melting day. Shower. Breakfast. Rolled some jnts. Power went off about 0945. Ugh. Continuing Magister Ludi. Stomach acting up slightly, took a Chloro. Amex, nil. Juice bar. The mad blonde, that crazy Frenchman who sold me the Nepalese thing, that wonderfully bedraggled woman. Should say 1510 and going into INDIA IX. Scored "trial tab", tiny pill, Rs.15 from old swollen jaw. Don't like or trust him but the stuff is coming on after twenty minutes. Power keeps going off in various sections at a time.
1630. The REAL thing. And head has to ramble on about getting money for more instead of .... HEAVY take-off. It's going to fly me I think instead of the other way around. 1755. Yep. Stratospheric.
2400. Let this be known as the Cellar Trip. Brown Sugar, Respect Yourself, It's Been a Long Time Coming. Juice bar briefly. Strange Germanic with cropped hair and granny glasses. "I Had a Dream". Then to Cellar for hours. Power on and off. Very American table of bearded prophet and mousy spouse, Steve Stills type and just another longhair. French table almost got a Swingles together during power break. Crazy Dutchman (of course) latched onto two dumb debs (Am or Aus??). Aussies from the Y. Park and stars and moon and massage.
This was (is) very strong and I did not do it real justice. Excuses: heat, power breakdowns, etc. So unused to such real stuff that the take-off was very rocky. I watched the electron microscope vision so briefly. How jaded one becomes to miracles. In the street when I first went out I had to keep my eyes on the ground. The HORRORS of India. Contrast later decadent amusement as a man crawls about on the Cellar floor cleaning around the dandies' feet (only in India!).
11/7/73
0730. After putting out the light, looked for a long time at a bright star which turned out to be a planet. Jupiter again? Jnt sent me whirling around Magick Theatre. Then sleep. Vision still very bright this morning. HOT. Shower and breakfast. Gonna broil today. (Hexagram 20, bottom line). That bottom six was well-deserved. I am going at the present situation with continued lack of depth in considering actions.
I HAD A DREAM
Finished main part of Magister Ludi. Then feel asleep until 1400. Can feel the struggle to regain inner equilibrium, to resist the vague post-trip depression and the perhaps natural growth of the desire to leave India (which probably became more implanted as a result of thinking during free fall). And it is so incredibly and beastly hot. (1720) Finished Magister Ludi. A day in my cell. Yet of course the door is open. I am very weary from yesterday, have slept too much to be able to escape that way. Should go buy some valium but ... one dope after another. The day is comparable to 25 April and the mood was about the same, or worse because of the stomach problem. Now it is more a return to the classic question of artificial highs gained at the cost of considerable imbalance.
Stub of morning jnt and a look through these books. Sometimes they seem useful and at other moments seem a complete futility. I should have had that (this) trip in Mussoorie.
RAMBLING ON
KEEP ON TRUCKING MAMA
POST LYSERGIC FATIGUE
UNSTOPPABLE THINKING
And a mosquito bite itches madly. Shower and shampoo. Light Scotch. (2100) Dinner in. Slight upswing in mood which certainly has been hellish today.
12/7/73
Good sleep. Tea at 0630. Paper says the monsoon may still take another week before breaking over Delhi. But it's cloudy this morning which should help keep the temperature down a bit. Joined at breakfast by that tiresome Indian who rattled on about places I should go. Cashed my last $10 trav.cheque and cabled Dad for $100. Juice bar. Got too stoned. Cellar but couldn't order lunch because the crazy Frenchman latched onto me. Hotel clerk asked me to loan him Rs.100 -- genuine or a way of finding out if I've got any money? I had to refuse anyway so now wait to see if they present the bill and what happens then. Wrote to ask Chris to pay his father so an escape ticket can be arranged. Out of the frying pan into London fire?? At least there I could get a job. What a complete mess and mostly (entirely, really) my fault. Money comes and I go berserk, not to mention that early period of extravagance.
AND THE BLOODY POWER KEEPS GOING OFF AS WELL
Guess I can always throw myself on Mark if I get booted out by the young Christians. I am weary of the hassle. Anyway, news of the scene: new batch of old-timers has arrived including a girl who is like Joan the Sufi groupie used to be. Bedraggled woman leaving. Strange blonde seems to have been picked-up by the rather pretty French boy who has long dark straight hair and wears sunglasses. They were together in the Cellar. Odd how often people who don't seem to have much money turn out to be "supporters". (Maybe it's by losing my money that I'll find mine?) 1660-Jnt. Went to Mark's for dinner. Quite a distance out (ghastly Rs.18 total taxi). Beautiful large terrace overlooking expanse of open ground with a splendid view of the sky. But it was rather a useless evening -- we haven't really got anything in common. Got back at midnight.
13/7/73
Friday 13th. 0630 and tea, paper and last Sunday's Observer mag discovered, I presume, by the roomboy. Cloudy. Feeling very low and increasingly inclined to return to London (or Greece?). Breakfast and rewrote letter to Chris asking for an as-soon-as-possible return ticket to London. Greece would only postpone facing "reality". Hopefully the beginning of the end of Journey to the East #1. [Hexagram 24 - Return] A more appropriate oracle couldn't have been possible. Walking in the midst of others, one returns alone. Went to Amex, nil. Bought some valium and posted letter to Chris. Brief stop at juice bar. Frenchman and blonde, bedraggled woman and the tiresome German dope-talker. Heavy clouds and a few drops of rain. (1320) Raining harder. Already feel that, having made the decision, it is best that the return be made as soon as possible and regret that it must be weeks instead of days. But it would also be crazy to waste the time before leaving by just waiting around to go.
FAREWELL FANTASIES I
AFGHANI AND VALIUM
NEW DELHI INDIA
Roomboy: "More hash, sir?" The French bomb will be exploding within hours. Should be peak tripping to coincide. Valiumtine. Kensington Gardens. Martin. That strange flash stopped the flow and I dozed until 1715 and had dreams I don't remember. Note slipped under the door announcing general strike tomorrow. Now they're going to starve us in Delhi. No YMCA restaurant, no food on credit.
I have fallen into a pattern in India which I could only break by going "native" and that would carry masochism to a pathological degree. DRAGONS. (1820) Jnt+val. Skies clearing. Last night Mark commented several times on the fact that he didn't see that I fit-in to any scene. (2135) Collapsed for awhile before (with effort) rousing myself to go down to dull dinner. Food here is lousy compared to Mussoorie.
14/7/73
Went to bed early, very sound sleep. 0800. Cloudy drizzle and cooler. Strike must be on since there's not a servant in sight. Paper naturally says nothing about the strike. Nixon has pneumonia. Juice bar early for morning coffee. Ron came in, has been doing nothing but sleeping. Jnts, chillum, and inevitable Stones. To Amex, nil. York Hotel and lovely air-conditioning. Ron passed out after one Afghani. Stan came in with two moochers ("can you lay ten on me?"), shooting-up and then they left and Stan also passed out. Waited around awhile and then left them sleeping to return to juice bar. No one there. Returned to Y at 2100, slightly alarmed to have less than Rs.10 left. Here we go again. Finally read that "Miss American Pie" brochure distributed by the Children of God. Heavy. Jnt+val very potent combination, at least until resistance builds up. Almost full moon peering through the clouds out the window (blessed rain again earlier in the evening). There is a young (16-17) American boy just arrived who strolls about naked in the bathroom (sigh).
15/7/73
Bed early again. Woke at 0700. Cloudy with drizzle and pleasantly cool. Weatherman "formally announced" arrival of monsoon in Delhi. Long chat with roomboy about yesterday's strike during morning coffee. Valium makes such a positive difference to life. Full Moon. Breakfast. (0940) Sunday. Rain. What else to do but get stoned? Val+jnt. Raining heavily.
FAREWELL FANTASIES II
WHY DID I COME?
ATTEMPTED ESCAPE
How wonderful rain is in India.
DEBTS + BOREDOM
PREOCCUPATION WITH THE PAST
PROCRASTINATION
All, of course, unchanged. India has not been the highest or the lowest (yet). But it almost was. Val+jnt = loquaiciousness. (1030) Sky solid light gray. Rain falls lazily except for brief gusts of wind. Nice. Room boy brought me a little lump of hash as a present. It is as if things conspire to make a lazy, rainy day in Delhi seem far preferable to a dreary bedsit in Notting Hill. It is astonishing how few differences India has made. Unless they only become apparent after I leave. (1235) Bunch of rowdy American greenhorns have arrived. (1405) If I weren't broke I'd be at the juice bar. (1800) Very stoned and rather bored. Stuck at dinner with three dowdy ladies from Belgium. The American lot seem to think the whole place belongs to them, hallways included. Hope they move on very soon.
16/7/73
Fell asleep with light on and didn't wake until 0500. Sleep again until tea at 0630. Only partly cloudy and very pleasant temperature. It is interesting that val+hsh turns on the doodling mechanism. Breakfast and waiting for Amex. Sigh. (0130) Went to Amex. Nice letter from Fran. Ron at juice bar. Back to his hotel. Stan and Derek, the German dope-talker, Danish girl and Roman Jung (Carl's nephew) there. Snorted a little heroin. After Amex had gone to borrow Rs.100 from Mark. Bought another tab of that acid. Ron and Stan and I went to Bengali Market for light food, then to Oberoi (where all the money went, of course). Lots of overtures from Stan about traveling together. Very pleasurable evening. Finally asked for needle, tomorrow probably. Oh my. Nice day.
17/7/73
0645. Partly cloudy. Breakfast. Feeling good today. (2400) Crazy day. Amex, nil. Then to York. Stan really trying to ditch Ron. Out to Oberoi for them to mail parcels, on to Humayun's Tomb and briefly to zoo (too hot). Juice bar, Cellar, back to hotel. To Chanakya Cinema to see "Wonderwall" but passed out from val+hsh.
18/7/73
Slept until 0830. Going to be very hot today. Bunch of dishy Americans on my floor. Notice that the bill is in my box -- oh oh.
CROSSED THE BARRIER
Half-tab of acid and shot of heroin. Amusing time at Birla Mandir. Back late to York for another fix and wonderful sleep on the floor there.
19/7/73
Slept until 1100. To Amex, nil. Borrowed Rs.100 from Stan. Went to Oberoi for much of the afternoon (yawn) and then to Gaylord's and Wheels. Two fixes and half-tab. Stan and Ron at each other's throats all day. Ron about to go to Thailand with creepy Derek, a pity. What a way to spend a first holiday in India. Deals, deals, deals -- get sick of them after awhile. Heroin very nice and I'm glad to have had the experience. Stan wants to go to Mussoorie tomorrow or day after.
20/7/73
Woke at 0730 plagued by hiccups which were bugging me all day yesterday too. A bit tired (understandably!). (2150) INDIA X. Two "mosquito bites" and a tab. And let the rest of the world go by. [Later note: I just don't remember that trip.]
21/7/73
The past few days blend into a haze of acid and smack, endless talk of dope deals, a little music. Good times, bad times. Got a cold which went away quickly but cough lingers on. Stan wants to go to Mussoorie tomorrow. Should I go? [Hexagram 46] Ching seems to be in favour. Now if only that money would be at Amex. But it wasn't. Stan paid bill at Y and after some delay we took a taxi to Dehra Dun. Very tiring journey with post-trip fatigue and little food. Got to Dehra Dun too late to get on up so stayed at tolerable but grotty Victoria Hotel. Good sleep from sheer exhaustion.
22/7/73
MUSSOORIE. Got taxi up around 1100. Everything beautifully lush and green, such a relief after Delhi. Got two adjoining rooms in the "bungalow". Really wonderful to be back. Lunch, a fix and a walk around town. Down to see Ramesh and had tea with him. Already feel hundred times better than in Delhi. (1920) Heroin, hash and bhaang. Oh yes...
THIS IS THE PLACE
It is strange that I didn't bring the I Ching. (2300) VERY stoned. Wunderschon. Weird hassle earlier with Stan about money. Nice dinner.
23/7/73
0600. Light drizzle but not overly cool. I do love this place. Last night got really stoned but then had to waste the glow listening to Stan's sudden and weird attack of paranoia about the loan. I wish I hadn't borrowed it from him, too much hassle. Could have explained the scene to Mark and at least gotten myself up here on my own steam. When I said before that Stan is very "on/off" I didn't know the half it. Heavy attack of chills during the night. Reading Howard Murphet's book about Sai Baba (at last). (1200) Jnt. Raining heavily. After lunch Stan came on heavy about the money bit again (combined with static between Mr. & Mrs. B during lunch, it makes me wonder what planetary influences are prevailing, although in Stan's case it's just heroin or non-heroin head states). So I decided to be just as unreasonable and not ask Fran to cable money but just wait for the MG news and/or California dollars. Posted note to Amex to forward mail. And so it's back to no money in Mussoorie (better than no money in Delhi).
Afternoon tea served in the room. Jnt and sleep until 1830. Rain rarely stopping. Cough and pain in my chest. Another time to stop smoking? Continuing book about Sai Baba who sounds more and more like a man I should see. Dinner and a very full feeling after the low appetite of Delhi. Continuing to avoid Stan. I've no desire to expand the relationship now. Wish I had brought valium and more books up here but am content with what I do have.
24/7/73
Went to bed early and slept well. Awakened by arrival of tea at 0645. Still raining. Hand very shakey this morning. Reading about Sai Baba has been a very good experience, like Castaneda but nearer and with more witnesses to its reliability as truth. Stomach a bit upset but I suspect that's more a result of overeating yesterday. (1005) Electricity off. Jnt. Neither joints nor cigarettes will stay lit. Weird. (1115) Writing by candlelight. A nice holder Mrs. B gave me. Jnt and looking up at rain falling through the trees and thinking of Sai Baba. Very strange Magick Theatre as a play between two voices began in my mind and became autonomous to a degree that frightened me and -- naturally -- out I went. Then suddenly I realized that I am staying in the Judge's room and not only is it filled with his good vibes but he also had here some ash produced by Sai Baba. And I am happier than before to be in Mussoorie, despite rain and no money and teenage junkies (he's on a bum trip but there's no way to tell him) and the lot.
1410. INDIA XI. The rains stops, the sun is warm and the flowers are glorious. Everywhere there are beautiful greens and the sounds of birds and rivulets and drops of water. (1725) Take-off complicated by more ramblings from Stan. Nothing seems to get through to him. Talk of his returning to Delhi. Tea. Stomach continuing to act up but even so IT'S A NEW DAWN. (1930) Nice stroll on veranda looking at flowers. Bad-vibe Stan stopped in and was finally asked to beat it. (2230) Stan decided to leave tomorrow. He called Delhi, discovered Derek had left his hotel without paying bill three days ago. Poor Ron. Poor Stan.
ON A CLEAR DAY L.A. IS PARADISE said Stanley
At dinner the old lady remembered me as her former neighbour. Mrs. B said the old lady (94) had walked to the top of the hill to give money to the blind man who sits there.
25/7/73
Rain and tea at 0630 after a good sleep (strangely unaffected by the, even now, lingering traces of the tab). Stomach seems to be back in order. The mountains are the best place for me. (1110) Stan left, presumably for Hardwar but will probably go straight back to Delhi. Gave me Rs.10 in a flash of parting "generosity", after I asked for it. Such a relief to be rid of him and the continual millstone downer effect he had on me. At breakfast the conversation was mostly about the old lady (whose name is Miss Pant). She went to Oxford in the 20s, the first Indian woman ever to do so. Raining non-stop. Stomach better, cough and draining sinuses continue but at last I'm on my own again. (1350) Lunch over. Now Jnt in (sigh) emptied cig. Plenty of dope but no papers.
I dreamed: looking at clippings from an old Vogue; some people came and left their jackets on the bed, one jacket was beautifully embroidered in a geometric design; I was playing a James Taylor tape with the speaker pointing out a window; on a balcony and a little girl released a tamed bird (a falcon?) which flew up onto a tree branch near me. Then I woke just before tea time with my head feeling clearer but with a tinge of homesickness combined with uncertainty about the future. Even reading more about Sai Baba seems to weigh heavily. What a piece of work is man. Why must we do all these things in life and does it really go on and on afterwards? Questions of a thousand dreams. I miss the I Ching. Walk up to buy cig papers and incense (Bangalore-made cones). Gave the blind man 20p. And now (1745) a bumper jnt.
I HAVE CARRIED A TIN OF "RUPERT" TALC WITH ME EVERYWHERE.
GOD to AUM to DONA NOBIS PACEM to CROWLEY MANDALA
1990. Recovered from a swoon. Gas lighter #2 just died. Thoughts of talking to Dr. Wheldon, Timothy Leary, felt heavy pressure on head and shoulders which faded as I tried to be still.
I DISPLAY ALL THE SIGNS OF A MAN OF FAITH BUT
2045. Dinner an irrelevant excursion from the inner world into the outer.
26/7/73
0615. Dreamed of going to a gallery and meeting Sam Green; of buying three tickets for a Pink Floyd concert; of a circular staircase which also descended like a lift; of being in formal clothes for a wedding reception which I then couldn't find. Fun night. Nice to remember fragments too. Interesting that almost all of the dream segments were set in NYC. Reality filled with recurring emotion which can only be described as homesickness, a general longing to be out of India and back in the West. Trying to keep it under control since I can't do anything about leaving. (0945) At breakfast, dope was the main topic of conversation. So, Jnt 1. For a little time I was in a glorious closed-eye land of brilliant colour in geometric kaleidoscopes ever shifting. Lunch tedious. Rain has stopped and one "is supposed" to go out but I have no reason to. Some road is blocked so post and newspapers are held up. May get through later tonight. I begin to wonder, oh mama, can this really be the end. Slept until tea. Reading old Reader's Digest which my NYC sheen finds amusingly horrific but my genuine reaction is one of surprise at the interest level of some of the contents. Even so far out an item as "Man, Morals and Maturity" by Norman Vincent Peale intrigued me with some commonsense observations.
THESE "JOURNALS" ARE
SO SELF-INDULGENT
MIRROR
I'M IN A BERGMAN FILM
BUT I WISH IT WERE WILDER
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm going mad," I said. "No, I'm afraid you're not," said Egbert. And now? (2045) How nice an after-dinner cigarette would be. Now comes the "why bother to stop?" period. Answer: self-satisfaction at successful operation of will power. I shall permit myself a small bhaang jnt.
27/7/73
Went to sleep early. Remember bit of an inevitable department store dream; also in hotel lift; looking at old diaries. Fragments. Morning almost sunny with no rain but mist begins to move in at 0720. Reading about Jeane Dixon who foresees a major war in the 80s; also a great spiritual leader who was born in the Middle East of 5 Feb 62. (1015) Bought cigarettes (I am a moral weakling) and walked down to library and around Camel's Back Road. Sun very warm and the mountains covered in greens as they appeared and disappeared in the mist. Then the clouds began to win the battle again. While walking I felt once again pleased to be here in these beautiful mountains and a little ashamed of my perpetual self-concern and impatience. How many people in London or sweltering in NYC would be pleased to change places with me (and yet, despite the beauty of the Himalayas, I would trade!). I should have planned to return after three months, I think. Post arrived, no money. Remembered in the very early dope days Michael and I would suck-in smoke from a lump of hash and tried it with the candle. Both more effective and eliminates tobacco. There is no question: I shall be forced to give up tobacco. Only five left. There is definitely an ordeal ahead. Dinner. Gave Miss Scott a sprig of grass found by the walk. She was astounded at actually seeing the "wicked marijuana" looking like an innocent and rather pretty plant. More pure hash smoking. Certainly brightens colours.
28/7/73
Went to sleep around 2230, awoke at 0545 feeling trapped. Dreaming active but only two fragments remembered: one a simple scene in a restaurant with some other people not having money to eat; the other an unusual sequence of heavy petting with Patricia, but a cigarette kept getting in the way. What a loaded dream. Splashed about in hot water bucket. Breakfast. Last cigarette. Reading an old Coronet magazine. (1500) Smoking pure hash to combat nicotine craving. Scare myself with worries about getting to London. (1630) Tea and hash. Something seems to have tripped over in my head (or is it just a switch in the hash being used??) When and if I get to London I'd like to do some comparative cycle studies using the diaries. RD says one of the early satellite discoveries is the fact that the earth's atmosphere "bulges" every 26 days. Surely we'd be affected by this on a subtle level? Deprived of the two "most essential" things: money and tobacco. What an experience. (Reason #1, maybe, for coming to India?) (1710) More hash, not making me as stoned at it should. Exercise: think of everything in terms of hypnotic (hypnotized by maya). Realized link between my reading the Tales of a Vampire (Somadeva's Vetalapanchavimsati) and Felix's vamp wanderings. He'll like that.
Songs, memory patterns, natural sounds (rain, locusts, etc.), all sense tracks, past, present or fantasized outside time have the power to hypnotically shift the flight level. Successful living (a a Reader's Digest word combine) consists in selecting the proper self-hypnotic upper to balance against rough weather (winds of karma?).
Dinner. An old cig butt. Flushed the rest down the toilet to remove temptation. Too many people spend money they haven't earned to buy things they don't want to impress people they don't like said Will Rogers. Story of Sinclair Road, altho perhaps doing it for those people I want to like me is my special trap.
29/7/73
Good progress in dream control: long coherent sequences; looking for a flat, etc., which built up a (badly remembered) alternate reality. I remembered quite a lot but didn't make notes before tea and now it's gone. But a good night. What happens in the dream state seems to greatly affect the mood of the morning. Sunday. Discovered that Egbert's "Rising and Falling" matches are not in my calendar-folder. Almost all of my "treasures" are in Delhi. Shampoo. Don't let it bring you down, it's only castles burning, just find someone who's turning and you will come around. Breakfast. Spent ages working out the psi cycles which RD article claims begin at birth and continue through life. Castles may be burning but nothing else is, used my last match so can't even smoke hash. I am very much aware of tension in every part of me. Went up to get matches. Hsh. But now it's a question of how long the candle holds out. Perhaps I came to India so I would be forced to give up so many things I've considered voluntarily stopping? Dinner (Mrs. B staying "in bed").
30/7/73
0630. Good sleep but not very effective dreams. New Moon. Walked to Savoy P.O. Nicotine craving very strong when I have to be out amongst people. This period is equal to just-before-discharge from the Army time. Dreadful coughing fit from a bhaang jnt. Back to pure hash. 1700 seems as if it should be 21. Tick tock. My life is divided into pre-dope and post-dope with a dividing line in May 1968. A green blanket. Golden fireplace and red Buddha dancing (yes, and afterwards ...). What strange twist sends me into this, realizing Michael M was responsible and how good it was to explore with someone equally naive. It is stupid of me to think of him with the prejudices of others. There were happy times (pre- and post-). Of course. Old times, good times.
MORE THAN ANYTHING I MISS MUSIC (and cigarettes!)
Dear Albert: When from a distance you think of returning to India, don't make the trip without a cassette player. (It was tempting to stop that sentence at don't). And a return ticket.
31/7/73
0615 after a night of muddled dreams and frequent awakening. End of July. I feel weak, slightly cut-off from reality. Nicotine withdrawal symptoms? Strange to suddenly stop doing something one has done every day, almost every waking hour, for nineteen years. Yummy "greasy chappatis" for lunch (puri?). There is a temptation today to take that last tab. I'm a bit concerned, though, that it would rock the boat. Enjoy the good fortune you still possess. The Ching may be in Delhi, but ...
1/8/73
Rain and thunder. Weird dreams remembered in fragments. Breakfast. Got bill for Rs.212. Oh. Hash. I've been reading about alcoholics in RD. one rule: never turn to a drink when you "need" one. Hmmmm. Well, I've been trying to break the news gently that I'm broke. Now I have to either ignore the bill or admit I can't pay it. July 1973 was a very weird month. Lunch. Decided not to mention the bill but said something about an SOS to my parents probably not getting there until tomorrow. Again the desire to take that last tab. Might as well be done with it, a real Nero trip. 1335. INDIA XII.
1530. Golly.
Post. Letter from Mom dated 16 June. "Our Western Union advised us not to cable money to India and assured us they couldn't be responsible for it." Western Union??? Dad's advice to contact my bank in NYC. Sigh. "We've been on vacation somewhat spoiled by my getting sick." "Janet called yesterday, they were fine -- she's worried about me -- Bill was going on a picnic and she was staying home." Oh mama can this really be ...
Dinner (ohmigod). Style is the ultimate morality of Mind said A.N. Whitehead. (2250 and going strong but I'm getting tired)
2/8/73
0630. Drizzling. Must've slept about three hours. Trimmed my hair and shampoo. Breakfast. Wrote to director of Amex explaining my position. Wrote to Mark and enclosed letter to Ed to be forwarded. 1045 and hash (last match again, sigh). Lunch. Up to P.O. and got matches, reducing assets to 90p. Dinner (appetite above normal).
3/8/73
Long sleep. Dreams of lots of people in a Mohan Singh type place, planning future social engagements, concert by the Stones; shifting to vaguely remembered sequence about farming. Wish the dream had included the concert and not just the plans for it. Breakfast. Attack of cigarette craving. One week of no tobacco. It's hard to believe. Would've been much more difficult without hash, and I wouldn't have continued the abstinence had there been a choice. But, a good experience. Large lunch followed by hour's sleep. More Reader's Digest (the "television" this time).
4/8/73
Ate some hash before dinner last night and just got through the meal before it hit. Zap. Fell into an incredible state, always on the verge of totally losing control. Roller coaster ride. Mini-trip. Collapsed until 2200, then managed to get into bed and slept well. 0630. Raining. Mr. B in a very talkative, restless mood today. Lunch. Ate some hash again to see if it repeats last night's performance. I went through many of the classic trip traps last night. Rain has been falling nonstop all day. (1525) Effect not so intense but very nice. Muchly looking forward to tea, appetite a runaway. Now I know what it was in Alice's cakes and it came from Afghanistan. I would have difficulty in choosing between a chocolate bar and a cigarette. How odd it is to go for days without spending any money. Saturday.
Tea was yummy: 2 chocolate biscuits (could have easily eaten 2 dozen). It would be nice to find a collection of Playboy like these RD's. (1845) Candle on its last lap, hash supply growing steadily smaller. Another level of abstinence coming up? (2050) Dinner. After several hours of sunshine, heavy rain again. Lights off, so I got a fresh candle. Appetite so strong that I can't seem to eat enough.
5/8/73
Good sleep with busy dreams unremembered. Sunday. Misty 1135. Quite stoned, ate a lump and had two BJnts. Reader's Digest of course (about to run out of them, too). Rain just started. Balzac: Every evening should have its menu.
6/8/73
Kaleidoscope of dreams. Awake with a return of "I wanna go home". Sigh. Dreamed of seeing Joplin on colour telly. Monday. Breakfast. Clothing manufacturer from Calcutta has arrived to share the task of mealtime conversation. 10 days without tobacco (but if I had Rs.3, I'd buy a pack of cigarettes nonetheless). (1005) B. Singh commandeered to ask for payment of the July bill. The sand in the hourglass trickles on down. Raining (of course). Je regrette rien. BJnt. Last match again. Reading about the seige of Leningrad by the Nazis (following the stories of the liberation of Paris, the last days in Berlin, and the bombing of Hiroshima). 1330. Stuffed in as much as possible at lunch. New man eats more slowly, hurrah. Now "munching" on the last lump of Afghani, should be a take-off in an hour. Raining heavily as I wait impatiently for tea. And it came and went. The rain continues non-stop. Sadie Thompson. Rita Hayworth. Can't remember the name of the song. I am very stoned but in a subtle way. And always on the edge of thinking "when I get to London ...". Rescue may come any day now. It had better, and the sooner, the better. Everything running out: money, tobacco, matches, RD's, hash, even this book. Cleared briefly. Walked down to Picture Palace, by which time the mist returned. Sense of smell much more acute, the first discernable bonus. Bought matches (my only contact with the world of buying and selling for 11 days!). 10p shrinking resources to 80p. Nice outside. And now there is thunder. Smoked some hash of unknown origin (the stuff they were using to make oil). Good dinner. Maybe taste is a bit more open. Cabbage tasted yummy. So stoned that everyone seemed like puppets, almost as though the mini-trip expected earlier is just late.
7/8/73
Don't know why but the delayed reaction last night got stronger and stronger. Strange. Went to bed at 2200 and had a very good sleep. Noticed horoscope for this week in the Illustrated, said that things pending would become concrete. Hmmm. Also predicted upswing starting tomorrow (always tomorrow) in finances but added the warning not to be "too generous". Amazingly relevant for a mass publication. Coincidence or synchronicity? Until breakfast it was clear and sunny but then the mist (clouds) rolled in. 0951-hsh. Golly. Rain. Lunch. No post. It will be very disappointing if none comes tomorrow. 2-1/2 hours till tea. (1820) In a place like this it is natural to keep one eye on the watch (altho the same could be said of Sinclair Road and watch plus tv programme guide). But here it is the rigid daily routine, one almost begins to want a day off each week.
0630 - bed tea followed by delivery of hot water (pitcher one day, bucket the next)
0830 - breakfast: cereal, egg, toast and tea
1300 - post and lunch: modified Indian food (curries so tame they're almost like stews), fruit
1600 - tea served in the room, 2 biscuits plus sufficient tea for 3 cups
2000 - dinner: English cooking. soup, main meat course and veg, pudding
At no time since leaving the Army have I lived such a regimented existence. A little money would give me a chance to vary it, but then there was a time here when I skipped meals with no great discomfort.
8/8/73
0615. Must have rained all night and still drizzling. RD reminding me of the great "issues" of my childhood: the Bomb, polio, etc. My childhood was lived in a period of wars, hot and cold, and seemingly endless threats to continued existence. All things considered, I am lucky 1) to have survived and 2) to have been relatively undamaged. Only my teeth are a disaster owing to these giant external events. My early diet would have been much different had my father been at home. Alternate realities. Wednesday. Mrs. B happy at breakfast with gossip about the May-June crowd. One jnt surely packed a punch. No more Reader's Digest. Reading Acts, after abandoning Proverbs. Lunch was yummy, more "greasy chappatis" (paratha version). Paper and post are late. Every day around three o'clock I begin waiting for four (partly because I'd like tea or coffee after lunch but don't get it). St. Paul's vivid obsession with homosexuality (Romans 1:27) is very suspect in light of the squabble with Barnabas over John Mark. Throughout Acts there was a stress on the positive; Paul uses negative concepts as a sales pitch. Gave up, skipped to James, Epistles of Peter, John and Jude and into Revelation. Switched to reading (for the x-tieth time) Little Women. Dinner ... of course.
9/8/73
Routine morning. Finished Little Women. On to a 30's "Crime Club" selection called The Ring of Eyes by Hulbert Footner. Raining. Letter came from Amex. No post and no cabled money. "Please do write to us after some time to make enquiries about your remittance" and to write to L.A. for forms (!) to fill out re: lost money orders. Grrrrr... I do wish I had the I Ching. I begin to feel more and more lost. But somebody surely will answer? Tea. Finished the thriller and on to Norman Collin's "Anna". Romance. Is it possible that my parents would simply not send my money? It seems almost unthinkable. On the other hand, if my letter wasn't lost, then something should have happened by now. Sample of current mental processes, which is why I keep my eyes glued to fiction and forget that it is
FOUR MONTHS IN INDIA
14 DAYS WITHOUT MONEY
13 DAYS OF NO TOBACCO
It is strange that today I have several times thought of having a drink, with even stronger craving that for a cigarette. To think of those Bloody Mary's and endless cigarettes at the Oberoi. Yekh, back to Anna (who is also penniless, half-German and in Paris just before the defeat of France in WWI when Germans were imprisoned). Poor Anna: into prison, rescued by a dirty old man, ran off with a handsome young man who was then killed by another dirty old man, etc. etc.
10/8/73
Busy dreams (I wish I could remember more of these nocturnal alternate realities). Rain. Of course. Shampoo. Breakfast. Rain stopped. Finished Anna. She ended up living happily in Cheltenham! What a saga. Have Hawthorne's House of the Seven Gables next in line. Hash. No more bhaang and hash about to run out. Time, my dears is running. It doesn't matter. Hawthorne is dreadfully antiquated. 1255 and rather zapped for lunch, but I managed. They are having fried okra quite often. Yummy. No post. Yekh. Floods in Kashmir. Very noisy batch putting up a new electric cable. Indians are so demonstrative. There was a sudden strong attack of regret as I thought of West Cromwell Road and its library and music gear and kitchen, etc. It would take ten years to build such a nest again, but I would like to get started. That was the strongest such attack ever experienced. I don't often think of it, and the whole thing was built on sand. Still, it (like late NYC and Frenchtown) was a "golden age". When I was in it, I didn't know. Often I remind myself: I was sometimes bored at HPG. I filled the boring times at Cromwell Road with acquisitioning and dreaming of bigger and better everything. That fell apart in an acid dream. Humpty Dumpty.
In the past few days I have caught myself doing little "ordinary" things which are inappropriate (avoiding "wrong") and I have consciously stopped myself, breaking more long-standing habits. I am still bound to hash but it will soon be finished. But it is more important, surely, to replace the vacuum of dropped negative habits with some new positive ones? I don't think I can do that here. There are, in any case, still plenty of weeds left. Persons who have wandered, or been expelled, out of the common track of things, even were it for a better system, desire nothing so much as to be led back. They shiver in their loneliness, be it on a mountain-top or in a dungeon. Hawthorne. What a strange book, a Gothic yarn and some exceptionally perceptive statements about human nature, general philosophy and occasional moralizing. N.E. stew. Quite stoned again. The debate is on about using the rest of the hash or laying off for a few days for the greater effect off the bit that's left. Finished Seven Gables.
11/8/73
Very detailed dreams. Remember a big fuss about treated water; visit to a hospital which charged admission (it was a man we were visiting but I don't know who he was or who the others were); something about cigarettes with a special filter (first time I remember dreaming about cigs since that weird dream about Pat). Started reading English 50s romance, A Foolish Marriage by D.A. Ponsonby. Post, including the missing packet from MAY! But no money. Sigh. The B's are getting on my nerves again. They argue endlessly. He is so restless, whistling and aheming about all the time, talking in grunts, and she is so uppity and intolerant. They plague the servants and are dreadful to Miss Pant. In short, quite awful. This outburst brought on by the fact that they are just now doing their act in the garden making it impossible to read. Goodie, rain has started so they'll go away. Solved the hash question by smoking most of it. Tea and more hash, using crumbs of previous burnings, not getting very stoned, and all the time busily cogitating: should I, shouldn't I. I am addicted to dope but I was also addicted to coffee, alcohol, sex and tobacco. But does it really matter? Probably a lifetime question. Abstinence from the drugs seems to give self-satisfaction; certainly the financial question is on the No side, but something says to hell with it. Thinking on ... Dinner (followed by talk of religion, gurus and inexplicably on to my postal problems!). VERY heavy rain.
12/8/73
0615. Still drizzling after incredibly heavy rain during the night. Beastly weather. Sunday again, three weeks in Mussoorie. Trying to re-read the chapter in Murphet's books about the teachings of Sai Baba but my mind is restless and wanders always into speculation about the future. Wishes. Breakfast discussion about the rising cost of food, English-controlled companies in India, the problem of India as a growing (very slowly) exporter. As usual, any mention of China is brushed aside. India has an ostrich complex about China. Went for a walk but it's too damp. "Daag" has finally come to the Rialto. Spent 10p on matches, leaving 20p or just over one English penny. High finance. Hsh crumbs. Rain. Very Sunday. Not an especially good lunch. More hsh. More rain. Gave up on Mackenzie and started White Banners by Lloyd C. Douglas. It's a strange book. The possession of anything you haven't earned is a constant menace. Washed my Levi's (after 3 weeks almost daily wear!). It will probably take a week for them to dry. (2040) Dinner was most amusing -- a long chat with old Miss Pant about London (the price of eggs in 1922!). Her elder sister was received by Victoria. The B's were late and so I told the Calcutta man about giving up smoking and either made it extra witty or else he was just in a good mood. Conversation, which often seems like such a task, flowed for no known reason. The chat with Miss Pant put me in very good spirits. She's splendid.
13/8/73
Restless night with many dreams: went to cafe in the hotel which I dreamed about before, met Michael Reynolds there; also sequence about grass; John Q. sending me a cheque to book a theatre for a play he was doing (opening on a day my local group, whatever and whenever, were doing Our Town). Woke, I think, at one point and thought of playing housekeeper for convalescent young men and that got incorporated into a dream. Amazing. But had more trouble than usual getting to sleep and woke at 0600, itching to be in London. Wretched weather, rain, damp cold and gusts of wind. Finished White Banners. The complex plot was more a showcase for the presentation of the philosophical premise: don't fight back. Yield and abandon, move on to something new, etc. A good book. Another good point: keep your struggles, and especially your victories, to yourself. Point taken applied to cigarettes. I have a definite feeling somehow that rescue approaches, not necessarily today, but soon. Put stitches in the zip of my chamois trousers, eliminated the exposed fabric of the fly. Looks much better. But they (like all my clothes) are much in need of a wash. Don't dare wash them here, they'd never get dry. May have to ask the dhobi to iron the Levi's eventually. The B's have visitors and both of them compete loudly for attention: grunts and shrill protests and cackling. The hope of rescue includes a growing desire to leave these pretentious, preposterous people! I think his intentions are basically good but she is absurdly pompous and intolerant. I'm very weary of them. AND THEN: SUNSHINE. Suddenly the weather did an about-face and Mussoorie becomes a paradise, far too beautiful to describe. CIGARETTES. Went up to Landour and ran into Ramesh who immediately bought me 10 Wills Flakes. Sigh. He is going to Frankfurt in October. Walked to the top of Landour and back down; then had coffee. He is delightful. The first cigarette tasted VERY strange. But the most wondrous thing of all is Mussoorie in the sunshine. Came back for tea and to shed sweater. Floating fluffy white clouds over the plains, blue blue skies with very high wisps of cloud, like being in an airplane. Miraculous. Tea (with corn on the cob!) and then to Happy Valley, Municipal Gardens and back via the "short-cut" over the hill. The snowcapped Himalayas were dazzling, so much whiter than the surrounding clouds, and all those mountains which were brown in May are covered in green. Flowers everywhere. Delicate wild orchids in the hill path. I have never seen a more beautiful landscape. A most perfect "farewell" to Mussoorie. I am very grateful to this place, probably more than I realize yet. I saw a Tibetan Buddhist monk wearing Hush Puppies.
14/8/73
Just after dinner last night, started reading Girl of the Limber Lost by Gene Stratton-Porter, a delightful book (1909). Read until midnight. Good sleep with dreams influenced by the books. 0630 and rain. Yesterday was such a remarkable day. Full Moon. Finished the book after breakfast. Rain stopped but a cloud has swallowed us. Lunch was rather an ordeal and not especially good. No post. I do want out of this place. Mussoorie is fine but the Y is wearing thin. Very thin. It is very disheartening to have to wait 24 hours, over and over again. More hash crumbs, not enough for one Delhi super jnt, but OK nonetheless. Found another Stratton-Porter novel, Laddie. These really shouldn't have disappeared -- old fashioned but charming. (1730) What is basically wrong today is that I am bored, despite the amusing novels. I want to be doing something. It is worse after the contrast of yesterday. Raining again. Inside and outside. Lady from Malaysia arrived. She had a dreadful time getting through Palam Airport and is full of criticism! Mrs. B and man from Calcutta to India's defense.
15/8/73
The magic date. Hmmm. Dreamed for the second night running about typhoid. I hope it's not a warning. Thanks to that lovely Monday afternoon, my Levi's are dry (blue shirt can only be described as "ripe" but everything is dirty). Rescue me. Yekh, it's Independence Day, no post. Walked down to Roanoke to leave a book about India, auf Deutsch, for Ramesh. Passed him on my way back. Woodstock evidently off for the holiday (I've now been in India for American, French and Indian independence activities). On the path was 3/4 of a cig. I brought it back and made a joint. END OF HASH. How absurd. How annoying holidays can be to someone for whom every day is a "holiday".
[scrawled "woof"]
A brief history of Woof. Woof appears often; a souvenir of 80 West Cromwell Road when there was a mischievous autonomous corner of my mind which told me things by automatic writing and signed the messages with Woof. "He" was quite a joker, sent me on wild goose chases (especially during trips), but also gave out cryptic bits about understanding "cellular", etc. I miss him.
Nice red kidney beans at lunch. Heavy mist. Had a short nap (rain started) and would like to sleep until money comes. A bit of music now and again comes up from a distant radio, almost always Hindi film rubbish. Today is the 227th day of 1873. Useless info but I'm just waiting for dinner. Lively discussion at dinner about oriental politics.
16/8/73
It seems like the "final countdown" is underway. Lots of dreams including a couple of randy fantasies (but no typhoid, thanks). Sex, tobacco and dope. Lovely night. Reading a 1928 novel, A Lantern in Her Hand, by Bess Streeter. Shampoo and bucket bath. I'm