Bombay 2

February 2

Deep in the frying pan with one foot in the fire. U.G. and I flew from Bangalore to Bombay this morning and not one word was exchanged from departure to arrival. At first relaxed and relieved to be able to be quiet and sleep (I had a rough sleepless night last night), I then felt that familiar withdrawal on his part, that aversion, like he wished I wasn't there. The few lame remarks I made fell on unhearing, indifferent ears, no response at all. Coupled with this discomfort were my baggage problems, four suitcases, one large bean bag, my computer, camera bag, and film bag. I can't help it, but traveling so heavy is definitely a problem.

When we got to Bombay, U.G. went out to meet Mahesh and I waited over a half hour for the bags. When they came and I finally extricated myself, U.G. was standing there impatiently. The car was jammed to overflowing, and the back even popped open on the way to Bombay. Quite a different ride from the last one, at 3 in the morning with U.G. and Mahesh so friendly and welcoming. I said I would be happy to dispose of the camera or the computer or the clothes. U.G. said no, that wasn't what had to go.

I felt angry, despite my knowledge that he is playing with me. I am still hurt from his remark in Bangalore. In some way it marred my departure, feeling I'm resented underneath. (Even though Adri took me aside at the airport this morning and said he has learned a lot from me, putting simplicity into practice, living the teaching, etc.) U.G. has been hostile to me since arriving, talking about me with Mahesh behind my back, leaving me in the car while he goes in for a haircut with Mahesh (so I went for a walk with Lalu Bhai). Mahesh drives at me with questions about how I can feel okay while he and U.G. are in such a funk.

U.G. went into what looked like deep samadhi in the car on the way home this afternoon, after we dropped off Mahesh, not stirring while Lalu Bhai and I went into several shops trying to find heavy cream. He looked dead from outside the car, people peering in and staring at him. But when we arrived at Parikh's apartment, he came to life and made it upstairs, staggering a bit and looking like death personified. I feel responsible somehow. They have convinced me that I am poison, anathema. I'm on the verge of telling U.G. just to tell me if he wants me to leave, to return to New York.

But I don't really feel that way. I'm only angry in fits and starts. Otherwise I feel deep love for U.G., and even deeper trust. There is no reason why he would hurt me unless I needed it for some reason. I'm keeping my distance now. He is in the living room with a few people and I'm in my room, the same one where I began my Indian odyssey two months ago. I'll see if I can talk with him tomorrow. The heat is on for all of us now. According to Mahesh, U.G is becoming even more ruthless and harsh than ever, and the closer you are to him, the harsher.

U.G. sent me off to dinner with Mahesh and Soni at Woodlands tonight, saying he wanted to stay home and rest. He promised us before we left that he would not die while we were gone, and also apparently told Mahesh, “She will enjoy it,” about my going to dinner, sweet, and it cleared the air for me. Mahesh told me that at the airport while they were waiting for me to come out with my bags, Mahesh asked U.G., “Why don't you go help her?” And U.G. replied, “She's here to help me.” But then went off to look and see if I was okay. When I heard this I melted.

When we returned to Parikh's apartment, bringing idlis for U.G., Mahesh took the initiative and told U.G. I wanted to know why U.G. asks questions of me through Mahesh and he responded, because you two talk, implying that he and I do not. This is true, very true. I asked why it is so hard for me to talk to him directly and he said, “It's withdrawal,” that everyone has a little, but carried to extremes it becomes pathological. I had thought he was withdrawn, but instead it was me.

Tonight he was just hanging onto consciousness by a thread, sinking, according to him, heading towards the great sleep, death, samadhi. He told me he was conscious of nothing today when he sank in the car, heard nothing, was completely gone.

The story continues. I feel something will happen between now and the time either we leave or U.G. leaves, or I leave. I don't know what the outcome will be.

February 3

So much has changed. I was up early, took a bath and made coffee, a cup for myself and one for U.G. But when I went to his room, it was dark. Around 7 I looked in again, and called him but he didn't respond. Later, a call from Chandrasekhar roused him from his bed. He told me he had been so far away, so gone that it took him some time to come back when I called him. We went and sat in the living room, Lalu Bhai having also arrived.

I seized the opportunity to talk to him right off this morning, as soon as he had his coffee. He told me he never withdraws, that it was me. That he never initiates conversation, let alone small talk, polite talk. He explained once again that not one of us is in any way special to him, he does not even see me when he talks to me. What he sees, he said later, is our repulsive efforts to be good people, false efforts that contaminate an otherwise pure presence, pure living essence. Mahesh called and I heard U.G. saying, “The person from New York is talking to me...”

He said he felt I was not a very firm or committed person, a repeat of his taxi lecture, that I had other interests and responsibilities at home. I asked if one's nature can be changed and he said no, there's nothing to do. This ties in with his message of hopelessness. Throwing in the sponge and making the best of life, this moment, this could be the last day, this is the only reality, there is no hereafter, better present or anything else to aspire to. Mankind is doomed, is completely useless to nature except for recycling atoms, we are redundant, superfluous.

It is now 2 a.m. on the morning we leave for Hong Kong. I misread my watch, thinking it was 5 a.m., got up, took a shower, made coffee and wondered where U.G. was. Then I noticed it was only 1:30 in the morning! So I am all dressed and packed and ready to leave, but have hours to go.

Two months I have been in India. In a way I don't know this country at all, I have been so intently involved in U.G.'s sphere. But that world, his world, is immense, in another sense, and embodies the universe. I feel comfortable and at home here, but unemotional, ready to return tomorrow, or to stay away forever. U.G. asked me again yesterday what I wanted, what I was going to do with my life. As if I know. He knows and I know that it depends entirely on him.

~ ~

I burned my finger on a pot in the morning and U.G. came in just as I was dousing it in cold water. He laughed. I felt he had orchestrated this wound in his mysterious way, something about a warning about staying away from the fire if you don't want to get burned. Or is this my imagination? Goodbye India!