Then he told me about Mario, the first Italian who ventured up here a few years ago to be with the Tibetan masters. He asked if I wanted to follow the Dharma, the Buddhist path, and I answered that I probably felt more attracted by Hinduism. He nodded. Even so, I still asked him if it was possible for me to take the Buddhist initiation on the following day with Piero and Claudio and he replied that he would be pleased to give me permission. I felt extremely happy and came out from this encounter feeling uplifted, comforted.
Mussouri, 4 June 1972
Today we were initiated by a great Tibetan lama, Sakya Trinzin's teacher. Piero and Claudio have told me that it's a great honour and blessing. In fact I realize that many special things are happening to me, one after the other, as if this trip is invisibly guided.
The three of us were the only Westerners present for the initiation along with a large number of Tibetan monks, dressed in their yellow and dark red robes. The ceremony lasted for eight hours, all day long, and it became almost impossible for me to endure, patiently squatting on the floor cross-legged, experiencing great pain in my legs, not able to understand the language or the meaning of the different rituals. The sound of the tinkling bells and the smell of incense I found quite overwhelming. Tibetan people sing in a particularly unique way, a deep and reverberating tone, in perfect harmony.
The culminating moment of the initiation, when the lama placed a length of red-coloured string around each person's neck, as if sealing the ritual, made a lasting impression on me. He smiled at me, an ancient, wise smile, with a kind of complicity, as if he had known me forever. I came out of the room filled with a new power: something unusual had occurred, an indefinable effect difficult to describe. We have been instructed that we must now meditate and practice the teachings for fifteen days. During this period we can always go to see Lama Sakya Trinzin if necessary, talk with him and ask for further clarification. I feel honoured. From today the three of us are to be confined to our small rooms. The meditation is quite complicated: we should visualize a Buddha, adorned with certain symbols and each time recite a very long mantra with the help of a mala, a rosary.
6 June 1972
The main difficulty is to remain seated correctly and Claudio is teaching me how to sit with my back straight, crossing my legs in the proper way so that they don't feel paralysed. The Western body is used to sitting on chairs and sofas all the time, not seated on the floor, which strains all our muscles. The Indians however are incredibly supple, their joints flexible, both the men and the women quite used to living in close contact with the earth, squatting down, walking barefoot, eating with their hands, sleeping on the floor and cooking and cleaning by crouching down on the ground. The other big problem is to curb the activity of my mind and I try desperately to do that.
We visited the Lama for guidance and I asked him why the Buddha always sits on a lotus flower. He answered that the lotus is the symbol of our soul: as the beautiful lotus opens it's petals, resting on the stagnant, muddy water, so our soul can open to light and knowledge, opening beyond the darkness and ignorance.
Delhi, 20 June 1972
We are in Delhi again and have linked up with all our friends once more. It is strange how we keep meeting up with each other, as if an appointment is arranged through some telepathic message. Soon we will be returning to Mussouri for a further initiation, but I have begun to think about Babaji again. I remain in a dilemma about Him, because He doesn't speak, doesn't give any spoken teachings, doesn't teach meditation. He seems to do nothing and yet there is an inexplicable magic around Him. Every time I look at His photograph I perceive an intense light: maybe it's an hallucination - who knows?
22 June 1972
I have acquired a high fever and so I cannot leave with Piero and Claudio. At the last minute, before they departed, Claudio gave me a small image of Shiva, the deity of Yoga, maybe Babaji Himself. Perhaps I am being called: I begin to think of going to meet Him again in Vrindavan.
Vrindavan, 27 June 1972
I have come back to Babaji with feelings of deep emotion. He called me over to talk with Him by the temple door, touching my bracelets and asking me why I wear all these ornaments. He looked at the tattoo on my hand forming the Om sign and told me in English: 'Full power.' In the evening He had me dancing in front of the Indian people who were present, smiling and telling them that I am a hippie.
Delhi, 30 June 1972
I don't know why but I had to come back to Delhi. I am too restless and the life in the temple is too difficult for me, I am not ready for the discipline especially. I miss my friends, the sense of freedom and comfort that I have here.
* * *
Love Story
Delhi, 5 July 1972
As soon as I arrived at the guest-house I came across Sitaram, the young American who I had encountered in Almora with Shanti. I asked him to help me, because there were no other people around and I felt lost in Delhi on my own, especially with my poor grasp of English. Something crazy happened, I don't know how but it did: we are having a love affair after taking an LSD trip together. I don't know whether it will be a successful relationship but we intend to leave for the mountains in order to find a house and live together for a while.
Simla, 7 July 1972
We are in Simla, high up in the mountains, the monsoon has already started and it rains all day. We went around barefoot carrying a large umbrella in search of a house where we could pass the rainy season and now we have discovered a lovely place in the forest with a river and a small lake nearby.
11 July 1972
We've been establishing ourselves in our new home for a few days now and have been busy cleaning, cooking, meditating, taking baths and swimming in a natural pool in the river. When Sitaram travels he carries with him a small suitcase containing inside it a complete temple with representations of many of the Indian deities. He has met many gurus and has learnt a great deal, and now he is teaching me English. It feels good for us to be together, but I also find it impossible to forget Babaji.
Vrindavan, 22 July 1972
Here I am, in Vrindavan again, to kneel at Babaji's feet. This time He talks to me very seriously and tells me that I cannot leave again without His permission. I protest, show Him a photograph of Sitaram and tell Him about our house, but Babaji says that he is not the man for me and that the house is not my home. He goes on to say that in future I'll only be able to live in Hairakhan or in Almora; that is where my home will be. What He says has a tremendous impact on me and I think about it for much of the night. I have decided to try and obey Babaji, but first I must go back to Simla to get my luggage, although I have made a promise to return.
Simla, 25 July 1972
Strangely enough, nothing seems to work out right with Sitaram any more and remembering Babaji has become a kind of obsession for me. Before I left He gave me a painting He had done depicting the temple in Hairakhan, simple, naive, delightful and I keep looking at it.
* * *
Return to Babaji
Vrindavan, 29 July 1972
I have returned to Vrindavan, without knowing that today is Guru Purnima, the full moon dedicated to the guru throughout India. This evening Babaji had me dance the whole time in the big temple where we