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Dear All. NOW COMPLETE

Please bear with me. I'm trying. I'm not trying to be trying. I'm trying to writer this letter.

It will be difficult for me to recall and to relate to you all the events of the experience of a few moths stay in India. I didn't go with any great expectations, though I'd heard from others from their experiences.

Trevor had asked me to go with him, so I went in preference to staying at home on my own, suffice to say I went with a spirit of enquiry, but carrying a little naive caution with me.

Firstly I had to apply for and application for a passport. Birth certificates and other paraphernalia were required. My birth certificate told me where and when, but didn't tell me why. I've often wondered. Others have too I suppose.

Passport and visa secured and all preparations made, we arrived at the airport, checked our luggage in and proceeded to the seat allocation desk. As we walked through the gates carrying our hand luggage I was to have a foretaste of what I would encounter in many instances at the ashram in India. Entanglements with authority. Some may call it that. I'd call it something else. A woman in uniform rushes over, bustles up and speaking to me as  if I was another mangy dog, said "take that back, you can't take that on the plane, it's too heavy- take it back."Trevor said "it was weighed at the check in.": "take it back!"so we took it back and the fellow weighed it again and put it on the luggage conveyer.

We returned and collected our seat allocation tickets. Then I saw her again, bustles still up, long after the battle was over.

So we took off at 3-40pm and with a one hour stopover in Singapore, arrived at Bombay at 1 A>M> , their time. WE had no problem s with customs. While we were waiting for our luggage Trevor asked the customs officer if we could change our money, and he said "yes". We collected our luggage, he signed our papers and we were on our way. He mut have looked us over while we were waiting.

Someone was supposed to meet us, but we didn't find him, though he was there, so we hired a taxi. Trevor asked the driver if he knew the way, and he said he did, but about an hour along the road he stopped to take tea, he said , but I suspect also to ask directions. He asked if we wanted to take tea but we declined. Western stomachs have to be wary of what they eat or drink. Further along, we came to a fork in the road. Trevor was telling him to take the left , but I suppose he thought what would a Westerner know. So he stopped and asked dome people standing nearby for directions. I thought we were heading for nowhere and was wondering if the roads would be any better there.. 

It was the end of the monsoon season, and there were pot holes indiscriminately placed in the road, but  for a purpose I imagine. We were on a back road , not a highway. The cars were originally British made, but the company that made them was taken over by an Indian company. The cars all seem to be the same model. I don't know if it ever changes. I don't know if they have spring or shock absorbers; but when we hit a pot hole the seat seemed to fall from underneath the backside. then when I was coming down the seat was coming back up again. There wasn't much to hangon tp. I hadn't had a rougher ride since riding a horse drawn tray.

With Trevor's guidance we eventually arrived at Ganeshpurri ashram after a journey of about 90IKMs. That was at about 4 AM after the first chant. It was time for tea or chi. It is made with tea, spices and milk. By the time we had a cup I was xonked out and looking for somewhere to sleep. It had been 17 hours since we boarded the plane and about 27 since I had slept apart from dozing on the plane.

Trevor had already arranged our accommodation, so it was a matter of getting the key and going to the dormitory. It houses eight people. The beds are wooden like table tops with a tired matrtess and a wayward pillow.The mattress is capoc. It would have been originally two or three inches thick but with usage it had become exhausted. The wooden bed didn't take kind lt to old bones, when I turned over during the night, the pillow would take off in the other direction and I would have to reach out and drag it back.

The other occupants of the dormitory were an American ex-naval airman,a Greek born American psychologist, so I treated him to a bit of ours. Later on there was a former Pom. He had lived in South Africa for seventeen years, then came o Australia. He had been away from England for over thirty years so he had improved some. He had become a very nice fellow. Later on there was a ten year old boy; Spanish American I 'd say at a guess.

We rested for two days, then we were allotted our seva. Seva is work done with good gracw and without thought of reward. Trevor steered me by anything he thought might be too much for me. So I settled for gardening; potting plants, weeding and cleaning paths.I did that for the first nine days. One day I had a group of aboriginals working with me. They were highly amused at me trying to communicate with them in Pigin. They work in the ashram grounds and are provided with housing, clothing, food and a stipend, so I was told.

The Guru was due back from America on the ninth of October. The night before was to be clean up night. As many as could were asked to come along at 8 Pm and help. I went along and had helped a fellow get the hoses and had coupled them to the taps. As I was about to start  hosing down the courtyard a lady with long hair ( i used the word "lady"advisedly) come along, grabbed the hose and said "give e that, go get a broom if you want to help:.

I looked for a broom but could not find one. One went by, but someone was on the end of it. I wasn't about to fight him for it, so I waited. Later I noticed a squeegie learning leasurely against the wall, so I got that and with help from another lady ( this time it was a lady, she was the wife of the improved Pom, so she had to be). Together we squeegied the passage way. It would be about thirty feet by twelve.

WE had just finished nicely when the lady with the long hair and wet hands was back. She had been going about from place to olace like someone who had taken off on a journey before she knew where  she was going; like we did when we were born. I didn't dare take her by the hand, I might get a slap, and with wet hands that would have not been funny.

She walked through the passageway wearing a sombre hue. Then I noticed that hose was being tugged. Not having all that was required of it, it separated at the jointer, and the passageway was flooded again.

I had been looking for a sign to tell me when to go, so before leaving I took a look around. Nobody seemed to be in charge. Each seemed to think he could do it better than the one who was doing it. I had never seen pandemonium organise confusion so well, but it must had settled down  after I left. Next morning all was in readiness for the Guru's return. I went along to the welcoming home, but because I can't sit with my legs crossed like the others do I had to sat with my legs drawn up, and so was sitting on my tail bone. Marble is hard and it fights back, so my tail bone got sore> That was the beginning of a lot more fun. It wasn't funny at the time, but I can laugh at it now.

THE FOLLOWING DAY i got diarrhoea. It's called traveler's diarrhoea which one can get travelling anywhere. That slowed me up and sped me up at the same time. They have a clinic and hospital, with doctors and nurses in attendance. The receptionist took down all the particulars and told me to find a nurse. A nurse came along and asked me in a slow drawl "what's the problem now?"Now she had the card, so I figured out that she already knew. I had a restless night, so I was getting testy. So I answered , "The Burning Ring of Fire". At first she stifled a giggle-she must have had experience. She too me to a doctor and he prescribed treatment. I had taken some medication with me, prescribed by my own doctor just in case. The Guru had come down to the clinic. She seemed to be everywhere that I was.Now Gurus do have unusual powers and I was beginning to wonder. If she is in the business of making people holy, I wouldn't  have expected that would be the place to begin.

That night Trevor took me to her. She remembered seeing me at the clinic that morning.  I was wan for over a week and didn't have much interest in anything. I went for my meals, that about all; Trevor had scrounged a rubber mattress for me, that eased matters for me somewhat. He also arranged for me to get my meals early, because i couldn't sit down in the eating hall.

At first the Indian cook gave me my meals. One day I went along, and a tall American was in charge. Without being critical of anyone in any hostile sense. People volunteer for different types of work without necessary having any experience, so don't know  how or where to begin. He wouldn't attend to me, wouldn't allow anyone else to, and wouldn't allow me to help myself., while he was running around with his hands i the air saying "there no co-ordination around here". He was the co-ordinator, Patience, patience, mine was running out. I could have shown him how but it was not my business to interfere. So I changed my eating place.

They have what is called an Amrit, where one lines up in a queue and gets ones meals cafeteria style- pays for them, and then takes it to a pavilion where there are chairs and tables. WE would line up outside the doorway and along the wall , where there was a fellow in charge; Quite a few times he managed to stop the line at me. I had noticed him looking me up and down, not saying anything. Nor was I.

One day he decided to change the line to the other side of the doorway. I grabbed a tray and was about to go get my meal when he yelled at me, "I didnt tell you to go anywhere". I might just as well have saved my breath, He wasn't about to take notice of anyone he felt superior to. If he had been suckled by  an ape, one would have understood and made allowances. After all an ape would be limited in it ability to teach, beyond what was necessary to survive in the jungle. 

There were a couple of times when I must have been near the end of the line. When the line finished he was free to have his own meal. He pushed in ahead of mr. Proving a  point I suppose. Nothing to do but to let him be. He was too far up his tree for me to communicate with. I don't suppose he even realised just how effectively he was playing the role of a good example of what not to do.

I was telling the ex-naval airman abouts: , I know. I think that fellow hs a thing about older men. I offered to pay his fare home"- An Indian Saint was asked- what constituted Pioty. His reply - proper conduct> So we don't even have to look pious to be pious.

In the days when men and there were no women about-a concise language was spoken. It was salty, and peppered with adjectives. There is no mistaking its meaning. I will give a mild interpretation of what would be said to him. "You think you are the only one to have reached the age of puberty". He would be subjected to such disciplinary treatment, This would have deflated his ego, but not hurt him. Theses little experiences had put me on alert. I was reasonably relaxed but watchful.

After recovering from the aliiment, I changed my serve, to what is called spices seva, peeling garlic,onions, sorting grains and trimming vegetable. I had been told it was a boring job, so I was determined to make it as enjoyable as possible, I settled for an Indian to stir a little- gently of course. He came from a place called Indor, north of where we were, where he worked in a bank. He had been illl for sometime, having had aches and dizzy spells. No treatment had been effective, He saw an advert in the paper with a picture of the Guru, so he said to his mother. "Mother  I am going to see her". So he went and his mother went with him. So hw told me it was the first time in fouty -two years that he had defied his mother So I  deduced from that , that a mother holds a place of high esteem in Indian family life. His  is married and has two daughters, in all sixteen people live in hos family home.. . His mother and family and their families . I dint't remember his mentioning his daughters. I didn't think to ask. When  I asked how old his daughters were, the ladies we were working with  called me a dirty old man, so I backed off and didn't ask any more questions ,, 

At that time I didn't realise  that I had to write this letter and satisy your curiosity.

Anyway his father may not be  an up frontier. He may be the peace ,love and harmony type and quite satisfied. , otherwise he be a politician and make himself necessary.

When he went to see the Guru she gave him a mantra to chant, It means, I bow to the inner self. The essence of their teaching is - love the self, honour the self, respect the self- God dwells within you as you are. So he chanted his mantra and after a time his headaches and dizzy spells disappeared. Chanting and meditation still the mind and relax the nerves, relievning stress.

At first I didn't take kindly to bowing down at the Guru's feet. I didn't poo-poo  it nor did I accept it readily  either. I didn't feel inclined to be hypocritical so I had to put  that one through the sieve.  Don't say it my mind is a sieve. It's better than having one like a piece of tin where nothing gets through.

The Guru is the embodiment of the Guru principal, which has been handed down from Guru to Guru since the beginning of time. So one bows down to the same Guru principal that the Guu also bows down to. Even nature is a Guru and we have been bowing down to that all our lives, otherwise we would never gain anything,. Adam and Eve took instructions from a crow. After sifting all that out, everything was fine.

An ashram is the abode of a saint or holyman. A temple can be a large building with a tomb or burial place inside so that people may go inside and pay their respects and feel a presence. Trevor and I went into a temple in that town. A Brahmin priest came over to give us a blessing. I don't see myself as anyone special to be worthy of such an honour. I did have an experience, but much too delicate for me to describe.

The ashram houses about 2,000 people in dormitories and condominiums. The grounds are well laid out with pathways, lawns and gardens, Along the pathways are many statues of saints or holy people. Some I am told depict dieties. There is one of Moses. One of Jesus ,tiled love incarnate and one of Mary and babe.

There are a number of large buildings used for various functions. One for ceremonies initiations or initiations, mediation halls or chanting halls.

There was a tall dignified Indian ( not haughty) From his bearing I thought he may have been an ex army colonel, so when the opportunity came I asked him. He said  No -Major". I've got to be wrong sometimes I suppose. He was wounded at El Elamain. Later his regiment was wiped out with the exception of one man. He was picked up wounded and taken to hospital and when his wounds were healed, sent to Officers Training School and commissioned, so he became the regiment;s mascot. Whenever he took or gave a salute it was for his regiment.

We, wee talking one day and he gave us his name, but it was difficult to pronounce,so the ladies decided to call him Poppy. They asked him if he minded, "Not at all- that will be quite allright". He spoke precise English, A young lady was giving him instructions oe day - in pigin. He listened patiently and attentatively and nodded his head to what she was saying, and she went away quite unaware that he could speak English, better than she could.

I asked him one day why I was seeing so many people looking zonked out, after meditations. He said "they are conforming to what they should be conforming to."Then one day I saw an Indian in bliss. There was no mistaking it; Poppy was a very interesting man to converse with. He wore a robe, somewhat like a swami;s. Whether he was or was not, he didnt say.

There are many nationalities there from most European countries plus Americans, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, one Japanese and a Chinese from Melbourne. There were ten thousand Indians camped on an area of land adjacent to the ashram grounds. They were housed in huge tents flown from America for the purpose, You can imagine the queues at mealtime.

There were people of many religions.Christians, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Sikha and Buddhist, that I know of, possibly others. There were a group of sufi singers who spent a few days singing songs, Different to western music but interesting notes none the less. The sufis are an ancient masonic order having its origin in ancient Egypt.

The celebrations we were at are called Samadhi celebrations. it was third anniversary of the time when the spirit of the former Guru left his body, to merge with God. That particular celebration was held in what is called  the Yujna hut. It's a huge building wit an island in the centre. In the centre of the island there;s a fire pit. The fire is fed with ghee, rice and spices. I am told while the Brahmin priests chant the services Fire denotes energy, It also purifies or burns impurities.So it must be symbolic. I don't know or understand very much about it, but I don't know about higher mathematics either; that doesn't make higher mathematics wrong,

Two ladies and I went down the town one night. One in a wheel chair. I had the priviledge of wheeling the chair. The one in the chair hobbled into a temple foe a while. The other one and I  waited outside for her. There is an open area where the street ends; in the centre was an Indian lady. My friend said "I'm going to give that lady a lolly:  She put here hand in her bag, there was a flurry of saris and women were all around her. This was like feeding in the fowl yard. I'll never forget the expression on her face. She just had to say, "No more-no-more.

I wouldn't call it the greatest feeling to experience. Having charity invoked within our bosom when we can't do anything about it, It's a big dose of inadequacy or humility or whatever; it lingers like an illusive itch, scratch it and it moves elsewhere. Any effort to do anything about it would be as effective as trying to subdue an elephant with a drinking straw.Trevor gave an apple and a bananna to a little boy in Bombay.He didn't want to leave us- he wanted more. to the richest of the rich- to the poorest of the poor. we all want more,

Trevor knew some people in the town. They had a jewellery shop. They invited him to bring me down with him. So I went, but I couldn't get through the door. so they brought me a chair and I sat in front of the shop. The shop is a stall with a cantilevered roof. One of them brought us a bottle of limca each. Limca  is a soft drink, made in Italy, with orange and klemon with another mixed flavour.. Later on a cup of tea. The cup was stainless steel about half the size of cups we have. The tea seemed to be made if half milk and half water. Their hospitality was simple and sincere. One was left with the feeling that they would have like to have done more. We were invited to dinner but we had already had it. They seemed to have respect for older people. There is a scripture writing which reads, "Be not scornful of scornful of grey hair- out of grey hair comes your being". Perhaps that had read that.

I was working with the Indian from Indor one day; He was chanting his mantra but I couldn't hear him, so I leaned over. He said "what the matter?"to which I replied "just checking". He answered "You are a beautiful person", It is good that you are checking on me"/ I back peddled out of that one very smartly. I;m not accustomed to that sort of talk.

On another occasion he sat beside me and said "you are an honourable man. I will honour you". So I waited to see what he would do. He had already done it. I was telling the two Americans about it. They told me I was a glutton and wanted more than my money's worth.

We were talking with Poppy one time and he was explaining the roles of the priests and swamis.The Brahmin priests marry and have families and in turn the sons become Brahimin priests.It is the priest who initiate the Gurus. I saw thw initiation of the present Guru on video, The Guru and swanisare celebrate. The swamis are the speakers. Poppy told us that the former Guru used to say "Test your Guru- test everything with the philosopher stone, don"t just have blind faith"I looked around for one but couldn't find one. I didn't like to ask in case I was called a dope or in case I embarrassed anyone else who didn't know. The dictionary defines it as being an imaginary stone, said to have the power to turn base metals into gold.I imagine it to be what the Gurus call the Inner Guru.

In all the teacings I didn't find anything alien to what we learn from Christian teaching or from what we have learned from experience in life. In fact I found much that was a confirmation of what I had already experienced in life.

In one scripture they read from, a battlefield is called  holy place. I don't know of anyone who would have thought so. More to the point yo have it called it a Hell's picnic; but we did learn to love and respect our mates and to value them for their worth. so when we look at it in that light the world becomes a holy place. It's a place wherin we are chastened and made whole.

The world isn't ugly at all. There's just ugly in it. It's the contrast that magnifies the beutiful and then becomes redundant. Like the straw that produces the grain, and when the grain is harvested, its put to the torch, or ploughed under.

There was a very lovely lady from a place called Nagpor in central India. I had noticed while gazing at inconsequential objects in trees and other places, that she was tuned in, taking a keen interesrt in our ritual of fun. I thought she might have been a teacher. When opportunity came I asked her. She said, ÿes,but how did you know?"I didn;t know of course. It was just a good guess.

By way of contrast. Recently I met someone I hadn't seen for some time. From the moment she came within range I began picking up bad vibes. Like the creepy crawlies that came out from underneath garbage  bins. It was as though the psyche was saying to me 'watch it mate", don't let a scorpion, a centrepede or a cockroach get up the leg of your trouser just  watch your footwork. She came over and in a manner condescending offered her cheek for me to kissed, so I complied but somehow I could not bring myself to go into convulsions of ecstasy about it. I felt inclined to laugh , but again the psyche was saying "don't get hooked in this mate, let her be; it's her prerogative to wallow in whatever she wants to wallow in, "don't get there with her. Take a slip from the fountain of wisdom. Leave it to the supreme intelligence. He can handle it better than you. He has had much more experience.'.

Trevor and I went into Bombay to confirm our bookings. We caught an Indian bus to a place called Vasai Road to catch a train. At the ticket boxes there was a cow in front of the first two aisles. Ho-one disturbed the cow, she just stood  there quite content, chewing the cud. They simply sold tickets from the other aisles.It's an idea that people have,that the Indians worship the cow. They do not. They worship God. The cow for them symbolises selfless giving. Meditation, contemplation, reflelection, so this is regarded as a sacred animal.

When the train pulled into the platform. baskets of products were unloaded first, then the train disgorged its passengers. So we entrained  and in a little while got ourselves a seat. The trains are wider than ours. I don't know if they expand. They would almost need to. The number of passengers they carry. Not much chance of anyone falling over. The state where we  were has a population of seventy-nine million.

We arrived in Bombay at about 10AM, booked in at a hostel and then went shopping. Every little nook and cranny seems to have a stall of some sort. One I noticed looked like a stack of sand soap about eighteen inches square. We went to a silk shop where I bought two shirts. They were  wrapped in two separate parcels with two separate dockets. We were given the two dockets and directed to a glasses-in enclosure to have the sale verified.

There was a man standing there with what looked like a shepherds crook. He was about ten feet tall, doing his job with all the dignity he could muster. He directed us to where we could pay for it and to where we could pick up the parcels. Maybe it's a system they have been performing a public service, helping with delay. The longer you are kept there the more you might buy. It's performed almost as a protocol. We have much the same system here but without the protocol. They simply shift things around so you can't what you want. It keeps you there longer. AS we  were leaving there was someone in uniform at the door saying "thank you sir""good day sir".

We went to a hotel for lunch. We ordered two separate dishes;vegetarian,then shared them. Later Trevor was ill. We went out again but had to return to our room. Later Trevor said "find me a doctor. I need a doctor".I didn't know where to begin looking. The fellow at the desk  didn't speak much English so I went out into the street. After a while someone told me there was a hospital just around a corner. So I went there and a sister told me I'd have to bring the payient ti the hospital. I went back to get Trevor but by the time we had returned all the doctors had all gone home. So then the hunt was on. We found a large building which we thought could be a hospital. There was a guard outside. Trevor was asking for directions to a doctor or hospital. It would have been funny if it hadn;t been serious.He was directing us across the street  to looked like a row of shops. Trevor was getting desperate. Between he and the guard yelling at each other.  was getting ÿes sir.no sir.thank you sir"kind of treatment. We went and found the hospital. It was down a lane but it was the wrong kind. Had we gone in there, we may have come out as soprano's.

Eventually we went to the hotel where we had lunch in the hope of seeing the house doctor. The manager would not allow it, but directed us instead to the Bombay hospital. So we hired a taxi. Doctors seemed to be waiting in the waiting room. A doctor took Trevor into a screened off room and examined him and diagnosed gastroenteritis and gave him a prescription to take to pharmacy  where he received the medication and paid for it. He returned to the doctor to be given an injection. We were in and out the hospital in approximately an hour,

While we had been running around, Trevor was yards ahead of with me tailing up the rear, we went over an area of the footpath where water was running. Water on polished marble, it's like walking on ice. I had to put my dancing feet on and do some fast footwork to keep myself from going down.

At another place I feel Sure that but for the timely arrival of a policeman, we would have been accosted by some ladies of the night. He brushed by me and I thought he was shooing them away, but Trevor said he was making an arrest. I think he may have been following us. He was wearing a Khaki drill uniform with a blue forage cap. He carried a bamboo cane with a lanyard at the top.

WE had intended to take a day tour on a bus, but had t abandon the idea. Next morning while we were at Breakfast at a hotel, we met a fellow who was in charge of the shuttle service from the ashram, so arranged to travel back that evening with him. Along the highway there was a long stream of diesel trucks like a convoy. I had never seen so many at one time. In India they seem to be on the move day and night.

At one point along the highway not far out of Bombay, there was an elephant, an ox cart loaded with bamboo poles. I imagine that he would be a painter and the poles would be his scaffolding. Then, if I remember correctly, a man leading a donkey. Along the roadside there were scores of people walking home from work. We arrived back at the ashram at about 6 p.m., too late for a special audience the Guru had held for the Australians on that day. She held one for the Germans the next day.

A stone wall surrounds he ashram grounds. It was about eight feet high and about the same distance from our dormitory. The windows have no glass. Just wrought iron grills and flywirew,so we were not deprived of the benefits of the sounds of night. The cats came along the wall at night to sing. The two Americans were named Paul and Chuc. Paul played violin. He was tuning it one night or filing the rough from the strings with a bow. So I said to him 'NOW i KNOW WHAT BRINGS THOSE CATS OF A NIGHT. THEY THINK THEY ARE ANSWERING A MATING CALL." I thought Chuc had suddenly become epileptic, while Paul looked at me darkly from under  his eyelids, when he realized I was only rid tickling he quite enjoyed the fun, Just to show there was no animosity he played for me a tune, and to show there was none on my part. I listened.

They were fascinated by our humour, couldn't understand how we are seemingly abusing each other, but are not. I endeavoured to explain that, it is not the words, it's the music. Its rough hewn and unsophisticated. Chuc disagree. He said very sophisticated and very finely tuned. I suppose he is right. It's like sarcasm without barbs and as harmless as a bee without a sting, even though it can still buzz around and keep us in suspense.

There were times when one saw the Guru and when one's eyes met with hers,there's what I would call an instant, silent rapport, that we quite often have with people; some we haven't met. If one could read the silencer. It would say "no emnity."Somehow it soothes the heart , gives it rest.

Where I worked at seva was good for me. It was like a safe port and a tranquil harbour, away from the turbulence there was in other places.

There wasa lady there who had been widowed two months. We had noticed that each day she moved to a table closer to where we were. When she was sitting at the next table to us, another lady said to me, "she will be at this table tomorrow". Sure enough , she was. She told me she was going home the next day and was afraid she might not wake early enough to be ready in time to catch the bus. So I volunteered to go over early to see she wasw ready and to help her with her luggage.

I arrived at about 5A>M She had not slept; she just sat on her bed and dozed. So I helped her with her luggage and saw her on her way. I have seen here a few times since. The first time she told me she knew she had to get to that table. The last time I saw here she told me she had pneumonia. I think she had been pushing too hard to be out of her grief, using too much energy in a low energy period.

There was a function on one day. Trevor had said to me to get there early and get myself a seat. I was there at 7 AM.I was first in line at the front of the stairs outside the hall. I had a yarn to a couple of fellows, then another one came along. He said to me "you can't sit there, get back there, the line starts back here"So I said "listen mate, the only thing I run across this place is authority, but no love, how strange. He put up his hands, palms facing me and said "you just sit there Joseph, you just sit there"and then he went away. So I just sat there and when it was time, went in and found a seat. Authority can be gentle, a whisper can be a command, some don't realise it.

I as walking back to the dormitory one day and was halted by two Indians. I said, "what's this, does it take two oy you to handle an old fellow like me?"At that they laughed and after ascertaining where I was going allowed me to go my way. In many instances the Indians could handle situations better than could the Westerners. It may have been that they go there often whereas the Westerners in some cases would have been first timers.

The ashran has a hospital bus, supplied and maintained by an Indian business man who builds diesal trucks I understand. It goes out to provide a medical service to people in outlining districts.

We took a taxi one day and looked around another small town. There is a Christian church there. One of the oldest Christian churches is in Southern India. It was founded by Thomas the apostle about the year 30A,D.

The Indians have a quaint way of answering a question or of not answering it. They shake their heads from side to side, not as we do, but as if the head was hinged to the neck in the region of the chin and with a wide eyed look say nothing. It could be taken to mean your guess is as good as mine, or if you don't know the answer to that you must be stupid as I am.It can't be called insolence and it can't be called dumb insolence. Maybe they learned that in the days of being oppressed.

The Indians have a custom whereby they press their palms together and bow their heads. It means, so I am told, I acknowledge the God within you as being the same as within me. WE have a custom too. WE say "how are you going mate, alright?"That can be interpreted as meaning I ackowledge you as an equal, with neither of us being either greater or lesser than the other. That's not to be scoffed at either.

We took a taxi ride to some of the sights of Bombay. The driver didn't speak much english, but made a patient effort to be a good guide, pointing out places of interest. Trafific in Bombay has to be seen to be believed. If I owned a car there , it would stay in the garage unless I had an Indian driver. The rules look like Rafferty's rules, but the Indians seem to know them. Trucks have printed on the tailboard, "horn please". So  they honk their horns and go. . We were hurtling along and someone ran across the road tucking themselves in at the rear as we went buy. I fely inclined to say that was close, but felt that he would only give a little twist of the hand and fingers like someone screwing a nut onto a bolt and say "God is protecting"so I was just chuckling to myself inwardly. I dare not laugh out loud in case he thought I was laughing at him. That might take some explaining.

We went through the area where many of the privileged people live. Then to the hanging gardens above the water supply. There we tooksome photos. We also walked around the area where we had booked in at a hotel, walked along the beach and took some photos, one of a snake charmer.

Next day we took off for home arriving at about 7 am.The following day Trevor stayed with me until thr Saturday. After that I was on my own again. I went up to Traralgon t pick up the cat. I had left here with Marj 's ( my ex wife)nephew and family. It took her a while to thaw out after she came home. I had gone and left her so she was cold on me. I had to be punished. We became friends again, Of course I am all she has got. No one to play me off against. She used to do that with Marj and I, depending on which one of us had transgressed. That was until she could not stand the strain herself, then she would square off. She is so humanlike in her reactions, or is itr humans that are cat like?

I have a group of magpies to feed. I buy pet mince and cook it, then when it it's cool make a rubble of it.If I leave it raw they think they have to kill it first and whack it on the rail, that makes a mess. They arrive early in the morning and warble to be fed. So I go slow on them so they will warble some more. If I leave the door open one of them will come into the kitchen. One day I put some cold cooked vegetables thinking that the little birds would eat it, but the magpies come. That was a funny act to watch. One could almost write dialogue on what the conversation might have been. One of them was testing while the other waited on the finding. There was originally four in a group but one was injured and the others hurried it away. i wonder if the injured bird gives off pain vibes which the other birds reject.

It returned after about six weeks ; on its own. It has been ostrcized.It prcks on the glass door to let me know it's there.

There are a couple of butcher birds that come as well. They have a big song for a small bird so it is not all dullness around here. I can still enjoy nature.

I am sitting at the kitchen table writing this. It's early morning before sunrise. I'm looking through the glass doors, outside there's absolute stillness, not so much as the movement of a leaf. It's good to sit and be still and see the genius in his handywork. Everything still obedient to its original instruction. It's providence of course, or part of it. There's much more to it than that. It's all for our well being. Without it we could not be unless we could live on dust.

It's nice to know that we didn't have to evolve like accidents over someone's backyard frnce. There's authority for our being and intelligence at our beginnings, and is with us even now. We are not just physical bodies. I don't see the point to calling a man a sinner when in reality he is a pupil. What point is there in sending a child to school, then calling him a dunce. How will it progress or prosper?

The status mania; the I am the greatest mania, has been the bane of our existence. It has been like that since Cain and Abel. Whether that story is actual or symbolic makes no difference. It is the way things are. Maybe it had to be that way.How else would it be tried?

What Shakespeare called the drama of life, the Gur's call the play of consciousness, so we grow into or are drawn into that state of being aware. So man is great. It has always been that way. Would God have created a being in his own image if he had not intended him to be great?

But man was dissuade4d from acknowledging his own greatness and took off on his own ego trip. We know the result. So we had to be chastened by our own folly. So we have not been abandoned at all. Our talents are still given to us, While it dosn't give us cause to get our ego tree about it, it can't be seen to be the cause to apologise for either.

I came home more firmly convinced than ever that Australians in general don't realise how much thry have going for them. WE have much to thank and honour our pioneers for Guru nature taught them well. The clergy helped a little. ( pay it where it's due) It's no mean inheritance. The memory of it stays forever.

For the most part, the bigotries of the old have gone but the weavels can get into anyone's barn, We just have to try and keep them out. Generally speaking we don't care what a person's religion is. If he is a good bloke= he is a good bloke; that's all he has to be. If he is not, he'll be called by a name that will be prefixed by his nationality.

In June, 1986 our ex regimental seargent major, his wife and I went to a church service at the Roman Catholic Church at Mordialloc the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination into the priesthood. He invited the members of our association, plus two other battalion and brigade associations to come along. The bugler was a staunch salvationist played reveille for the commencement of the service. There is a stained glass window in the church to commemorate the battalion. The priest made the comment that there is a lot of protestant money in it. Priest or not he was another bloke chastened by war. Anyway we are all priests of whatever we proclaim or advocate. After the service we went to a convent hall in Mentone for lunch and later went on stage to have our photo taken with him.

Then recently we went to the priest's funeral. Again the bugler played the Last Post and reveille to the accompaniment of a recruit from Watsonia military camp playing muffled drums. The priest and the bugler had made a pact twenty years before, Whoever was first, the other was to go along and participate in the service.

 There have been two things in life's experience that for me confirm the fact of an afterlife. One was seeing a man's spirit leave his body at one time during the war. He was an officer and a fine man, not in the least affected by his rank. He didn't get up his tree about his authority, he didn't apologise foe being,con anybody and didn't put anyone down.Verily  mountain as a man;there were lots of them around in those days.

He had come into the perimeter just before nightfall and had to pass by where I was to report. He had been at a rest camp and I asked him what he was doing, coming back so soon. He said"Oh, so and so's. I tried to get a bit of extra time but they wouldn't allow it"

They said they couldn't do without  him. The very next morning they were strafed and he was one of several that were hit. Though I can still see that in my mind's eye so vividly as I could then. I can not draw a simile to it. Nothing likens to it; fits exactly.

The other experience was of course, MARJ 9 my wife0 AND THE WAY SHE MANAGED LIFE IN THOSE LAST YEARS AND PARTICULARLY THAT LAST WEEK. i am quite satisfied that she ascended to the highest plane of existence. She had only six days to go. Such a plane of existence must be ascenable to. It was like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon and spread its wings, revealing itself in all its glory. I had never seen a more lovely, more elegant, more serene, more graciious lady. She was like it until the end  of her stay, from the time she gave out with her five hour discourse, on the last sunday morning. I have ab idea that she even surmounted pain. She would not take pain killers that were given to her, for fear of becoming addicted to them.

I was not the only one who noticed, Julie, my daughter, saw it tooand said to me later-Ï don't want to wait til to get older to be like that- I want to be like that npw!

I think it was a French writer who wrote "Man is free but he is everywhere in chains". It is true. Whatever chains had bound here in life were loosed and she was free. She had freed herself,using the key of course, when she forgave everyone, saying "I don't blame anyone, I don't seek vengeance on anyone. I know there are some we don't like, but we can't be hypocritical about it.

Of course I knew it was not the people so much as what they di. So she had the ultimate victory, victory over herself .)ego self_. Knowing what I know of what she had to contend with, in life. The constraints imposed on her from early childhood that was not her doing. I knew just how great that victory was. She could just as easily have been embitter but wasn't.

She will understand when I say that  I count myself privileged to have been her husband. Trevor ,my son. dosn't say  very  much , but he did say to me he could see she was free.

I don't know about Leone, )anther daughter_, she was only here for a few hours and would have been tired and in jet lag.

Now that the pain of separation has gone, I ask myself what was I seeing, was it a prelude to resurrection and a preview of the resurrection being. All I know is that it was an experience worth having and a vision worth having. There were those who put her down], but putters down put down. If that's their best talent they have a talent not worth having. It's worse than being destitute.

I went to the cemetary one day. i hadn't been going because I didn't see the point to raking the wound. After all, what's out there amounts to about the clothes she was wearing.

  After I came home I experienced a feeling of\ exultation followed by a feeling of guilt. I couldn;t understand it because there's nothing to feeel guilty about, besides she released me before she left. I was to do whatever I had to do, so that I wouldn't be lonely. I have been very fortunate. My next door neighbours have been marvellous, absolutely. Others have too of course, but they in particular, from the time Marj had her first operation, they have kept vigil. He it was, who using some very clever psychology, nudged me into feeding the magpies. We niggle, stir each other of course, but that's mateship.

Signing out with love in abundance

Joe Callinan.

We are the multiple  of the original

All on the same vine of life

If the air we breathe was coloured

We would be able to see it

As we inhale and exhale

We are not independent

We are dependent on our forebears

Or we could not even be

Separate from each other

With space in which to move

And interact with each other's grace

Not glued together except we home in spirit

But still dependant on

The entire Universe as one

Gigantic interdependency

Which is dependent on it's source

Under instructions from the original

Benevolent authority, which is

That which, without which

Nothing could ever be.

Lord's Prayer is an invitation

To deal directly with that same authority

And of which you ask of him

Ask in the Lord's name

What a compliment to mankind

He obviously does not consider us as hopeless

Or he would not invite us at all.

Jo Callinan

 Anybody who wants a FREE copy of the book send me your address and  send it to my Email address, Aus48057@bigpond.net.au,I will post it. IT is FREE AS LONG AS YOU WRITE A REVIEW.

I have just published a new autobiography,  Victories and Defeats. The book covers events in the author's life from his birth in 1937 to the present day. It is meant not to be just a story of a life but a re-creation of events in history.

AUGUSTINE RECOLLECTIONS begin with his struggles in school, where he had trouble fitting in because he was good at sports, which was the main interest of the other boys.

He went back to school and despite his poor marks at his normal school, he obtained high marks at a coaching college. High enough to gain entry to the top university in the state and he eventually completed four degrees. This was a victory. His dream of teaching was achieved but he ended up in defeat as he was forced to leave. He eventually  finds he  has no choice but to find another career path and unenthusiastically takes a post in the Taxation office. Soon he began putting his energies into political debates, and now has a blog averages about 10,000 readers a month.

Meanwhile , his personal life floundered as he spent all his time foccused on career and taking care of his parents. But one day a colleague tells him about a Filipino women he met atschool, and the two began a correspondence that resulted in their marriage. Today they have been together for more than twenty years.

Augustine believes it is our responses to the victories and defeats in life that determine how we live. In our reactions, we have choices.

It is available from Rosedogbook store for $7 on line or $17 as a hard copy. PLease order through  link.It may be possible later to have the book available in Australia for $12.You can get the first 14 pages free on google under my name Laurie Augustine or under Victories and Defeats on the google link.

First Review: I am very impressed with your clear and honest style of writing.  Well done, and I would recommend anyone to read this book. Messadra ,foolmoon.

The book can be purchased  from Rainy Day Books, in the Basin in Victoria or on their web site.