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where my wallet was noticeably lightened by the purchase of many "little things for the folks back home".

 

Feel like a tree, which outwardly has gotten new leaves, inwardly feels the sap of new life. Life with Baba was externally so spartan, but how strong the inner nourishment through the energy of his close proximity.

 

It's not until early the next morning that a light goes on for me concerning being "happy". I have to keep my "mind" clear. Have to be free and happy in Baba's spirit. Cooly throw off the temptations of thoughts (worries, wishes, longings, self-pity, etc.), which squelch the spirit and don't let me go into myself.

 

Drove with Pleader a good hour away on an old steamer to the Isle of the Elephants! Distinctive vegetation, high palms, cactus hedges, thickets and trees on meager, rocky soil are discernable from far away. One is put on land with an antediluvian boat and it takes about 40 minutes walking on a hot path to reach the caves. But what a surprise!

 

Huge arches, over 1000 years old, are chiseled into the rocks. Giant 4 to 5 meter tall "gatekeepers" watch a "Mahadevi" in a special temple. Alongside is a high relief of the same size showing the marriage of Shiva and Parvati. Magnificent sculptures. Unfortunately everything is heavily in ruins and in part covered by scaffolding for renovation.

 

The greatest and most sublime piece of mortal art that I have ever seen is the threefold bust (4-5 meters tall), the "Trimurti" of Brahma-Vishnu-Shiva. In this overwhelming sculpture mortal India and the eternal touch. One should be able to sit for hours and absorb this wonderful experience fully. To create such an unparalleled work it takes centuries of tradition, a creative sense of the highest degree and hands directed by divine guidance. Next to this work Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa and Michelangelo’s creations are somehow only matters of aesthetics.

 

In Bombay we visit (in addition to Amexto, Kodak, Agfa and the family Kotwal and the family of Chanji's brother) two saints. One of the saints, named "Ummer-Baba", is an old man on a sort of couch. He is only half conscious, stares a long time in one direction, moves himself convulsively, turns his head and glowing, half-mad eyes towards me and away again. I am not allowed to photograph him, since he is watched and cared for by people hungry for money. Evenings there are many people sitting there, they bring garlands of flowers, presents and pieces of money. The other saint, "Tipoo-Baba", is also an old man, also on the sixth plane and lodged also on a couch, in a room which is open to the street. Baba says he rules Bombay spiritually. He moves his hands constantly, sucks on a sort of cigar holder, drinks tea and is always mumbling to himself. We brought flowers. The people know Pleader, I am allowed to enter (without shoes), give the saint my hand, which he holds a minute with his loose grip and then shoves off energetically. That's his way of giving his blessing. I put one rupee on his little table and am allowed to photograph. He sends greetings to Baba.

 

This saint also seems to me to be only three-quarters normally conscious. Pleader says, he would sense that the fellow is a saint, even without knowing it beforehand.

 

The evening is wonderful. Bombay lies in the bluish haze of the evening sun. The sky behind Malabar Hill is red-orange, slowly changing into a light green. India! The mood wanted almost to "steal" my heart away and make me nostalgic. I don't know, but is it because I have to leave this great, wonderful land with its very strong spiritual atmosphere and fear that other countries will be more barren, more rational-intellectual? Or is that just a matter of inner attitude?

 

One thing is certain, that every step of the way in India one feels such a living, religious spirit flowing through everything. Here is really the hub of spirituality. India, and Baba as the embodiment of the universal spirit, have given me inwardly and outwardly so much, much more than I could have expected.

 

My ship departs at 1 o'clock. Pleader, and later the family of Chanji's brother, come to see me off. Also going onto the ship is a large, elegant Parsi family, older married couple, younger married couples, beautiful thin, large women, mountains of flowers are brought to them. The old man is supposed to own half of Aden. And the saris of women sit against the delicate coffee-brown skin of their arms and faces with such a kind of subtlety of color and beauty as I have never seen before. My cabin is large! Baba really fixed me up! I have a double cabin for only me. I came alone

 

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