12 March 1972
This morning while sitting in my room there was a knock at the door and in came Carlo. These days he is called Shanti and I hardly recognized him, I hadn't seen him for six years. He still has his childish smile, but that is now mixed with the expression of an elderly, wise man. Also he wears Indian clothes nowadays and his unexpected arrival has made a deep impression on me.
Shanti was one of the first people I knew who left Milan in order to discover the East. He travelled overland through Afghanistan and Pakistan to India six years ago when he was sixteen, in the same way that many other people did at that time. I really admired their courage and faith, travelling 'on the road', practically without any money, risking everything for their search. People tell me that Shanti has been in the company of many Indian gurus during the past few years and that he has now become a guru himself. He speaks in a strange way, slowly, very quietly. I want to stay close to him, because I feel he will be able to show me something.
In 1966, in an old part of the city of Milan, a group of us had our first experience of community in a small, impoverished attic that was freezing cold. That's where we smoked our first joints together and dreamt for the first time about the mystery of the East. Shanti and a few of his friends were among the first long-haired hippies around at that time. People derided and insulted them in the street, calling out: 'Hey layabout, go and get a job!'
I first met him together with Gianni at a restaurant in Brera. I offered them a meal and after that met them frequently. We got involved in all sorts of crazy activities on the streets of Milan, 'happenings' and cultural encounters for which we were eventually arrested a few times. Gianni actually got thrown out of San Vittore after having been attending there for a year and a half, because he was caught in possession of a small amount of hashish and he eventually ended up in jail. Then Shanti suddenly left for India hitch-hiking overland and so I parted company with them. During the time that followed I concentrated on my studies in philosophy at the University and became involved in the student movement of 1968.
For a few years I forgot about the Indian dream and even my old friends, but now Shanti has found me and here we are together again, I can hardly believe it. Shanti starts to tease me, because I am with Piero and Claudio, two people interested in Buddhism. He tells me that Hinduism is a much more advanced yoga, but at the moment I don't really understand the difference. I just feel I should stay close to Shanti, partly because Piero and Claudio are not so willing to take care of me. They are busy with preparations for their trip and I feel lost and alone, particularly because I can't really speak English yet. In the end though I've decided to stay with Piero and Claudio for the time being and attend a Buddhist meditation course in Bombay. It's a Vipassana course, led by a famous teacher, Goenka and even Gianni has decided to give up his morphine and participate.
15 March 1972
Today the course started: never before in my life have I embarked on such an experience and I am really curious about the whole thing. Here everything is clean, orderly, well organized Half of the people are Westerners, the other half Indians, but the Indian people here are very respectable, mainly dressed in spotless, white clothes and they pay great attention to discipline. I realize that every gesture that they make in their lives, from eating to bathing, is some form of ritual.
I'm also a little frightened and feel rather emotional, because it's the first time I will meet a master, a guru.
17 March 1972
I have been here for three days and it's not been easy for me, it's incredibly hot and the routine hard going.
We wake up at 5 o'clock in the morning, take a shower and try to meditate in silence. We are supposed to concentrate solely on the breath, but for me it's almost impossible to sit on the floor cross-legged and to stop thinking, yet I am still determined to try. Once a day we meet all together in a large hall, seated in front of the teacher, Goenka.
He is a man about fifty years old, with a strong-looking body and the round belly of a Buddha. He emanates an exceptionally quiet energy, peaceful, good, solid and we sing a beautiful song with him. At the end of the singing he repeats this sentence to us in English a few times: 'Love, infinite love for all beings.' It's his teaching every day. He also lets everyone sit in front of him individually for a few minutes in silence, engaging each person in a brief, direct, telepathic encounter. When it is my turn, I become scared. I sit in front of him and am aware of my restless mind, as well as my negative and even aggressive thoughts towards him and am afraid he can see it all. I feel as if I am sitting in front of a mirror and I realize that there are many things that require to be purified within me.
24 March 1972
It's the last day of the meditation course and I am pleased to have completed it. After returning to the hotel I meet up with Shanti again and ask if I could stay with him, because Piero and Claudio want to proceed to Nepal. I have decided I want to leave the city but feel there are many things I have yet to learn about India. I say to Shanti that I would like to meet a guru and he invites me to accompany him to Almora where he has rented a house with his friends, the 'Rainbow Gypsies'. He tells me that a lot of the masters and saints of India live in the mountains and I feel happy about going with him.
25 March 1972
We have been wandering around the bazaar in Bombay, teeming with humanity, people of all colours and types. There is a great pulsing vitality, an expression of love and warmth. The women are so beautiful and I never become tired of looking at them. They are the perfect expression of complete femininity, both harmonious and graceful, their manner chaste and virtuous, the colourful saris they wear absolutely wonderful. India is beginning to fascinate me and I have a strong desire to continue with my adventure.
Today I leave with Gianni and Shanti to go to Rajasthan. First stop on our journey to Almora, which is our final destination, is to find a guru that Shanti knows called Hari Puri who lives near Jaipur in Rajasthan.
New Delhi, 27 March 1972
We arrived in Delhi by plane. It's not as hot as Bombay and seems a little more civilized. We are staying in a very comfortable guest-house and down in the street we stuffed ourselves with tropical fruits served with ice. I've been told that it is dangerous to consume food prepared in this way but I feel protected by some power and don't want to be fussy. I'm determined to throw myself wholeheartedly into this situation without any holding back in order to try and get to the bottom of it all.
Jaipur, 29 March 1972
Here we are in Jaipur in the state of Rajasthan. We journeyed here by train, travelling slowly, stopping continually, the train overfull, dusty and dirty, the benches and couchettes hard and uncomfortable, made of wood. Fortunately I had some training in enduring this sort of discomfort during my travels in Morocco.
We take a rickshaw to the jungle outside the city to find Shanti' s teacher. It's a wild place, full of Sadhus who look as wild as their surroundings. They have extremely long hair in dreadlocks that they never comb, their bodies resemble the big cats of the jungle and they smoke hashish all the time. I don't understand a word that they are saying but it makes no difference, they continue to talk to me quite unconcerned, telling us stories about how they kill tigers with their bare hands, and so on. I go to lie down to rest with Gianni and one of them lifts my skirt to see if I have any knickers on. They also insist that I smoke and I am taken aback by their manner, shocked by their behaviour.
Later on they introduce me to the master,
