Issue 77—August 6, 1983 to November 17, 1983
This issue starts with Krishnaji and Mary in Gstaad from where they make the traditional move to Brockwood; but they then have to fly to California for just over a month to deal with the court case, then back to Brockwood and Krishnaji goes on to India. This added travel worries Mary and Dr. Parchure because of its impact on Krishnaji’s increasingly frail health. There seems to be some acknowledgement by Krishnaji of his precarious health in his wanting Mary to start living as though he were gone (although he says he’ll live another ten years) and his wanting her to have a more prominent voice in the KFA and the KFT, which never came to pass. Krishnaji also wants Dr. Parchure to have a greater role in the Far East, which also never came to pass. Perhaps most striking is the increased appreciation Mary expresses for the time she has with Krishnaji, as though she unconsciously knows it is disappearing—Krishnaji lives for just over two more years. In the editing process of these memoirs, I have Mary’s diaries open in front of me as I proof the raw transcript; and it is true that, in the early years of our discussions, Mary sometimes didn’t read out some of the more “flowery” (as she puts it) descriptions of her thoughts and feelings. But at this point in her diaries, there are simply more of them—she is taking the time to savor the extraordinary preciousness of being in Krishnaji’s presence, and with remarkable poetry and delicacy, she shares those with us.
The Memoirs of Mary Zimbalist: Issue #77
M: We begin today’s discussion with the sixth of August, 1983, and we’re still in Gstaad. My diary says, ‘The early walk was with Krishnaji, Scott, me. It was cloudy on the mountains so that Scott, who would have been climbing today had Krishnaji not intervened, saw that the weather would not allow it now.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘Erna telephoned about a decision on where Rajagopal’s deposition will be taken. These matters will be brought before the judge in Ventura on Monday. Cohen’—that’s our lawyer—‘wanted Rajagopal to come to the Oxnard office for psychological reasons, to get him out of his lair. But it seems more important to me to ensure that Krishnaji has his taken at a place that is convenient for him—not Los Angeles, for instance. So, quid pro quo. Rajagopal can have it at the K&R office providing we choose the lieu for all of ours. Both Erna and Cohen are disturbed by a copy of the Litchi letter, which I sent concerning Krishnaji’s health. We again lunched at Chlösterli. The Mulleners have a big Bernese Mountain Dog, which Krishnaji liked very much. A similar one for Brockwood, perhaps?’ [S chuckles.] ‘Krishnaji gave a “treatment” to Robert de Pomereaux, who gave me a donation for Brockwood. Krishnaji slept in the afternoon, and so did I. He looked fragile today, which twists my heart. But he went on the early walk in his new mittens, and called out to me to “Keep up the pace.”’ [Both chuckle]. ‘We had raclette at lunch, which Krishnaji had never had, and a fine ratatouille, and fruit tart. So we went for the afternoon walk to walk off the feast. On our return, I telephoned Malibu. Amanda answered. It is Miranda’s wedding day. At 2 p.m., the ceremony will take place on the lawn, but it was raining when I called—on August sixth?’ I have a big question mark. ‘She said that Miranda’s sisters had her running on the beach earlier. She and John will go to Hawaii for a week. It is a happy day in Puerco Canyon.’ Puerco Canyon is the little canyon between the Dunnes’ house and my former house, and that’s what we called out joint property. ‘I gave Filomena’s message for Miranda, and rang Filomena right afterward with messages from the Dunnes.’ That was because I wasn’t going to Rome, and I wanted to…
S: Of course. Of course. Alright, if I may, there’s two things that need to be filled in here. One is just a story that you and I were telling each other after we turned off the recorder yesterday, about the Bernese Mountain Dog. But before that, the Mulleners, who you just mentioned, were the people who owned the nice fruit and vegetable store in Gstaad, and then they started this restaurant called Chlösterli in Gsteig. They had a big Bernese Mountain Dog, and it came and sat underneath Krishnaji’s chair, and the owner was amazed because the dog had never done that before, and Krishnaji reached down and petted him during the meal. I also remember that, as Krishnaji was doing that, he said, “he’s letting me touch his eyes.” So Krishnaji stroked his head, and then touched his eyes. It was a whole…
M: Yes, it’s just as I can see it still: I was seated to Krishnaji’s left. Krishnaji was on a sort of bench against the wall, so it was big enough for this huge dog to get underneath. They can be very big, for those who don’t know these dogs.
S: Yes, yes [chuckles].
M: And I could see his head come out from under the bench, because I was just to Krishnaji’s left, but at a right angle, and I could see the head of the dog down there, and Krishnaji put his hand down and petted him.
S: Yes. And indeed we, at Brockwood, did get a big Bernese Mountain Dog of our own…
M: With the name of Badger. [Laughs.]
S: Yes. And the other thing that is worth mentioning, if we haven’t talked about this before, has to do with Krishnaji calling out to you to keep up the pace on the walk.
M: Yes, I was supposed to set the pace.
S: Yes, and Krishnaji never liked walking in front or rarely liked walking in front. He did that a little bit in India, but in other places, he liked other people to walk in front, and I often, out of courtesy or something, would hang back, but no—he didn’t want that. He wanted everybody to walk ahead. I remember thinking that perhaps he could feel people looking at him or something, I don’t know what.
M: Yes. I don’t know what it was. Well, but there was also, for instance, when we would all eat at Arya Vihara, which was buffet-style, he would always insist on being the last to serve himself, and you know, there could be more than twenty people for lunch sometimes, and everybody wanted him to go first, but no, he wouldn’t. He would wait way back in the room until everybody had gone, and then he’d get his plate. That was typical of him.
S: Yes. I don’t think we’ve mentioned that, so I just thought it would be worth bringing up.
S: But, also, just because he was walking in the back didn’t mean he couldn’t shout orders to the front…[Both chuckle.]
M: No. He was still in charge.
S: …to keep up the pace. [Laughs.]
M: And, well, he had also that feeling of “ladies first,” you know. It was, whether that was the unconscious thing but…I suppose I always walked ahead. I mean, I didn’t pay attention.
S: Yes. But I did pay attention because, by all rights, he should have walked ahead of me.
S: But he wouldn’t allow it, and he wouldn’t allow it with anyone else either, like with Shainberg when we went for a walk, you know—it didn’t have anything to do with me, it had to do with Krishnaji.
M: Yes. I think it’s part of the innate courtesy he had. “No, you go ahead.” We all have unconscious things when we both get to a door at the same moment, and you react instinctively, and he was of a generation where, and you are, too, ladies were first.
S: Yes, yes, but Krishnaji should have gone ahead of me. But he wouldn’t.
M: Well yes, but that would have offended that courtesy in him. He wouldn’t put himself first.
S: Yes, yes. Well, he didn’t put himself first in anything.
S: Unfortunately. And then also on the walk—and I don’t know if we’ve mentioned this before, we might have—but on the going-through-the-woods part of that walk, where there’s a steep ravine, and there’s water running down through the bottom of it, a little stream, he would often pick up a rock, not a big one—do you remember?
M: And throw it in.
S: Yes, and throw it down, to see if it got…
M: All the way to the water.
S: Yes, and if it rolled all the way down into the stream, he’d say with jubilation, “Ah! Got it!” or something like that. [Laughs.]
M: Yes, I do remember that.
S: It was charming because it was so childlike, innocent. It’s what a young boy—
M: It’s what a young boy would do.
S: Exactly, and he took delight in it every time. [Both chuckle.]
M: Yes. I can see all those places, and when we went through the woods to the Turbach Road, and then we walked up along the river a ways, and well, depending on the snow melting up in the mountains, sometimes it would be quite turbulent, and the rocks would—there would be a great noise, rocks being…
S: Yes, yes. Knocked against one another.
M: …knocked against each other—because it’s full of big boulders, and that was always interesting.
S: Yes, the noise that they could make, and the color of the water.
M: Yes. And the Saanen River, which it flows into, was always gray because of the sediment coming down.
August seventh. ‘Again, the three of us went on the early walk. Krishnaji saw de Pomereaux, who is leaving Gstaad. At 11:30 a.m., Krishnaji gave Scott an interview. Pupul telephoned from Madras, rather inaudibly, but it seems that the KFI met yesterday and fired Shankar from the principalship of the Bangalore School. Details are to follow in a letter; and Krishnakutti, who had gone to Punjab, is to get a letter asking for his resignation from the Foundation.’ I don’t remember what they were fighting over, but anyway.
S: They’d been starting Krishnamurti study centers on their own without involvement of the KFI.
M: Something like that. ‘We went for the late walk.’
August eighth. ‘We again did the early walk, and then I took Scott to the train station. He takes the train to Paris, where he’ll stay a little bit and then he’ll go on to Brockwood. I did errands. It was a warm beautiful day. I walked with Krishnaji to the river in the late afternoon. Krishnaji has a new plan. He is disturbed by the failure of the KFI to deal with the Shankar and Krishnakutti situation. He feels it should have never come about, and that there’s no one there to talk to younger people. He is thinking of Dr. Parchure for this, to have him accompany him to India, and come in May and June to Brockwood and possibly Ojai. But the rest of the time he would be at Vasanta Vihar, partly organizing studies of the teachings there, and meeting people, but also traveling all over the Far East, finding people, spreading interest in Krishnaji’s teachings. Dr. Parchure is fired up by this and eager. My first thought is for Krishnaji’s health. Parchure would still be in charge in India and Brockwood in the spring. I think I could count on Dagmar Lichti here, and Ojai has always been without Parchure. Krishnaji is continuing to discuss it, and will put it to Pupul when she comes to Ojai in September.’
August ninth. ‘The early walk was with Krishnaji and Dr. Parchure, who has observed my puffing going uphill. He thinks I need strengthening, and has come up with a plan to both strengthen me and continue Krishnaji’s massage, which Parchure now does. He will teach me to do it. He has persuaded Krishnaji, who says, laughing, “We will start at Brockwood, but no one must know about it!”’ (exclamation point, unquote). [Chuckles.]
S: No one must know about what?
M: About my giving Krishnaji massage. [Both chuckle.] It never happened, really, as I can recall. ‘I went to the bank for a conference with Mr. Hans Liechti—no relation to Dagmar—about the Alzina account, which is doing satisfactorily. When I got back, I telephoned John Hidley in Ojai about Frances’s condition. Krishnaji feels she should stay there and not come to Brockwood. Hidley says she will need supervision. Vanda arrived at 4:30 p.m. from Florence. Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I walked to the river. I lay in bed at night, conscious of the preciousness of a quiet bed, and room, and house with Krishnaji in it, alive, and full of his plans. Life glows, and I know how rare, how extraordinary this is; this being near him, the simple joy of walking with him, being able to look at that face, and see it light up at some small thing, a bird, or a kitten on the road. It is the enormous luxury of small things, the quiet to feel them in a world that seems in a flood with cataclysms. How fragile, how infinitely precious are these times.’ So they were.
Click here to listen to Mary.
The tenth. ‘The early walk was with Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, me. Krishnaji did some exercises but felt “low.” After breakfast he dictated four letters to India and to Dr. Adikaram about the Sri Lanka situation, which is in upheaval with conflict between the Sinhalese and the Tamils.’ Adikaram was head of the Krishnamurti things in Sri Lanka. ‘Krishnaji’s face was drawn, and he leaned against the pillow with closed eyes during part of the dictating, which worried me. I told Parchure. Krishnaji stayed in bed, and there was no afternoon walk. I did errands in the afternoon, and brought Vanda up the hill.’ She would walk down, and then I’d bring her back. ‘Erna hadn’t telephoned about the Monday court hearing on times and places of deposition, so in the afternoon I rang her. She hadn’t heard from Cohen, but called me back after speaking to him, and I learned that in return for letting Rajagopal have his deposition at the K&R office on November first, we can have ours in Ojai or at Cohen’s office, whichever we choose. Also, we got to see papers he will use in the case prior to his deposition. I told Krishnaji all of this, and he said we must go all the way in this so that Rajagopal cannot start it all again. “What I am doing may not be working,” he said.’ I think that he was referring to…
S: His angels to Rajagopal?
M: I think so, which we talked about yesterday.
M: ‘“Can you tell?” I asked. He replied, “Oh yes, I can feel it. I will continue. I do it each day, but he may not give in.” And then, “We will see when we get there.” He again said that he wants to go to Ojai. “Why?” I asked. Krishnaji replied, “To solve this Rajagopal thing. He has nothing to do, and has done nothing these past years but plot.” I went to bed trying to deal sensibly with worries.’ [Laughs gently.]
The eleventh. ‘Krishnaji still feels “low” and stayed in bed all day. I walked in the early morning, which does seem to make me stronger, then worked at my desk all morning. I am almost at the end of the pile of letters. I went with Vanda and Dr. Parchure on errands in the afternoon. Krishnaji felt better in the evening, looked better, and said he might walk in the morning.’
August twelfth. ‘Krishnaji didn’t feel up to walking, and remained in bed all morning. I walked with Dr. Parchure, and later in the morning did errands. Krishnaji got up for lunch as Vanda’s friend, Mr. Carini, had come to Gstaad to see him. They talked before and after lunch, and Krishnaji was his normal self, telling some of his astronaut-Brezhnev-Pope stories.’ [S chuckles.] ‘For instance, the one about “the boss’s son” in heaven.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘I took a nap to which I seem to be becoming addicted.’
August thirteenth. ‘I talked on the early walk with Dr. Parchure about what pulled Krishnaji down this week. Possibilities: One, it could be the shot for hand tremors that Dr. Lichti prescribed. Parchure is not sure what is in them except that it is not a drug. It’s something that acts slowly, and after having them for two weeks, the cumulative effect may not agree with Krishnaji. They have been discontinued. Two, stress. The only stress this week has been Krishnaji’s concern about the Bangalore school Shankar matter and KFI not handling it. Also, Sunanda’s refusal to join in the interschool journal which Mary Cadogan wrote to her about. He feels it is a “separative” reaction, which Krishnaji deplores.’ Meaning separation of the Foundations, pulling away from shared work. ‘Other forms of stress lie ahead. Whatever tensions come up at Brockwood between Dorothy and the four, the stress of travel, the stress of the court case in Ojai, etcetera. We will have to see. But for today, the mountains looked benign because Krishnaji looks well, and I have finished all’—underlined—‘the wretched letters, and have begun editing some Letters to the Schools, which I will type on the IBM typewriter back at Brockwood. I telephoned Filomena in Rome. Erna rang. Her deposition is postponed to September thirteenth.’
There is nothing of significance on the fourteenth, but on August fifteenth, ‘Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I left Vanda, Fosca, and Tannegg at 9:45 a.m., drove to Bulle where we got on a new-to-us autoroute to join the lake one near Vevey. We stopped at 11:30 a.m. at Mr. Grohe’s in Buchillon for a slight visit and continued to Cointrin.’ That was the Geneva airport. ‘Krishnaji agreed to a wheelchair, which worked splendidly.’ [Chuckles.] I had to trick him into that.’ [Both chuckle.] I will digress for a moment to explain this satisfactory effort. I always had, even when there were three of us like now with Parchure, Krishnaji and me, all passports, tickets, etcetera, and on this occasion, I went up to the young woman behind the counter to check us in. I had previously suggested using a wheelchair to Krishnaji, who said, ‘No, no, no, no, everybody will think I’m sick.’ So, I said no more, but when I got up to the check-in counter this time, I asked in French to the lady behind the counter if they had a “chaise roulante pour monsieur?” and “Oh, oui madame,” she said. Krishnaji heard this, but before he could say anything, she was sending for it. [S laughs.] And then, it will probably be in here, but what happened was extraordinary: A sort of middle-aged man pushing a wheelchair arrived shortly, and when he looked at Krishnaji, he almost fainted, because it seemed he had been going every week to watch videos of Krishnaji’s talks, I think at Grohe’s place. So, this man was driving from where he lived, presumably in Geneva to Buchillon, where Grohe lived, to watch videos, and here he was to push him. [Both chuckle.] I don’t know if that’s described in this but…
S: It’s good to have it. Yes.
M: It was wonderful. ‘Krishnaji agreed to a wheelchair’—so, I don’t put in here all the drama—‘which worked splendidly. [S laughs.] ‘Swissair landed us in Heathrow at 2:30 p.m.’ Part of my wanting a wheelchair was because when we get to Heathrow, there is always a long line for immigration and customs.
S: Yes, I know. It can be terrible.
M: And one has to stand, and then move two feet, stand, move two more feet…
S: Yes, it can take hours. I know.
M: And I was trying to avoid this, and it worked beautifully.
S: Yes. You were quite right. One of the small victories in life. [Both chuckle.] There’s few enough as it is, yes.
M: ‘Rita Zampese was there, and so were Ingrid and Harsh. The wheelchair got Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and me past an enormous queue, and we were back at Brockwood soon. The country is in drought. Dorothy and others were there to greet Krishnaji. We are glad to be back. Builders have started today on the house.’
S: It was probably the builders starting that day on repairing the fire damage.
M: Probably. August sixteenth. ‘Dr. Parchure and I walked at 6:45 a.m. I asked Dr. Reilly to come and examine Krishnaji as he still has bronchial symptoms. He prescribed Ethromycin and will do blood samples tomorrow. I went to Alresford to fill the prescription and also got a Magimix to make carrot juice. Krishnaji remained in bed. It was a warm day. It was good to see Dorothy looking well. I telephoned to Mary Links.’
The seventeenth of August. ‘I walked alone in the early morning. Krishnaji is feeling better but staying in. Dr. Reilly came at noon and took blood samples, which I then took to the Winchester Hospital lab in the afternoon. It was a hot day again. I got Brothers Karamazov and Tergenev’s Hunting Sketches for Krishnaji.’ I did? I can’t imagine Krishnaji reading those books.
S: Brothers Karamazov, no. I can’t either.
M: No, and what they call Hunting Sketches, according to writer friends I used to have, is really valued because of its beautiful style, not the stories.
There’s nothing the next day but more unpacking. On the nineteenth, ‘I went to London with Dr. Parchure to get him a visa for the U.S. at the U.S. embassy, and then to TWA about our tickets. Also, we got Krishnaji a pair of New Balance track shoes. It was hot in London. We got back at 6 p.m. Krishnaji had seen Dr. Reilly, and the blood tests are “normal.” The Bohms are here.’
The next day is just ‘early walk for me around the lanes. Betsy came down at 1:30 p.m., and spent the afternoon. I talked at length with Dorothy in the morning.’
August twenty-first. ‘Another early walk for me, this time across the fields and back on the lane. Krishnaji did the same walk in the afternoon with Scott. I helped put chairs in the marquee.’
August twenty-second. ‘Krishnaji and I went by train to London. Joe and Mary met us and dropped us at Huntsman, where they agreed to make two pair of light linen and terylene trousers for Krishnaji to take to Ojai on the seventh. We walked to Hilliard’s, where I tried on new trousers.’ Hilliard’s was another tailor down on Cork Street that I used. ‘Then we went to the Links’s, where we both had lunch with both of them. They drove us back to Waterloo. We had to change at Guildford, which entailed a wait. We got back by 6 p.m. Krishnaji has now finished his course of Ethromycin.’
The twenty-third. ‘We both went on an early walk across the fields. Krishnaji’s voice is hoarse. He rested most of the day. Pupul telephoned, saying that she is not coming to the U.S. in September. She said Krishnaji must not go to Sri Lanka as it is now too dangerous with the conflict there. Krishnaji told her he would like more time to rest before India, so the Delhi talks must be postponed a little, and he will leave for India at the end of October.’
August twenty-fourth. ‘We did the early walk. Mary and Joe came to lunch, and Mary stayed the night in the little room in the West Wing. Mary Cadogan was also here during the day. She and Mary Links talked to Krishnaji about the Indian book. Mary C. and Dr. Parchure and I discussed Krishnamurti people in the Asian countries. In the evening, Krishnaji, Mary Links, Dorothy, and I looked at a video cassette of the Paul Newman film called Answering Malice.’ I don’t remember that.
The twenty-fifth. ‘I took an early walk, then talked to Mary most of the morning. Krishnaji slept. Anneke arrived. Joe came for Mary, bringing his sister, and they left. Krishnaji gave an interview to Mr. Vallère-Gille for broadcast on Belgian Radio. Krishnaji watched a videocassette film in the evening.’ I write this as though there’s only one Belgian radio station [S laughs], but I may be being dismissive of the Belgian possibilities, but that’s what it says. [Chuckles.] It never occurred to me…
S: That they would have two.
M: Or more. [Both chuckle.]
August twenty-sixth. ‘Didn’t walk early, but did exercises. People arrived all day for the Brockwood Gathering. Krishnaji dictated letters. At 4 p.m., he saw the Fundación trustees. Then he, Scott, and I walked. I telephoned Erna about the cancellation of Sri Lanka.’ She wanted to put it in the Bulletin.
The next day, ‘It was a warm, clear day. Krishnaji has a bit of laryngitis, but gave a fine first Brockwood talk to a large crowd. Afterward, we had salad in our kitchen, and then he went down to the tent for a short while. Dorothy was in the tent before and during the talk. Krishnaji, Scott, and I walked in the late afternoon.’
August twenty-eighth. ‘Krishnaji gave the second Brockwood talk. His voice was throaty at first but improved as he spoke. There was a huge crowd. Again, after the talk, he had salad upstairs, and then went to the food tent for the hot food. The walk at 5:30 p.m. was with Krishnaji and Scott.’
The next day. ‘I sorted questions for tomorrow. Krishnaji saw Felix Greene in afternoon.’
August thirtieth. ‘Krishnaji held the first question-and-answer meeting. He answered four questions. Krishnaji, Mary C., and I talked to Donald Ingram-Smith about Australia at 4:30 p.m. The afternoon walk was with Krishnaji and Scott.’
The thirty-first of August. ‘Krishnaji and I went to London. Mary and Joe met us. Krishnaji fitted his two thin trousers at Huntsman. I fetched mine from Hilliard’s. Mary lunched with us at Fortnum’s. Krishnaji and I bought cheese, a new one, Lymeswold, and went to Hatchards for books. We caught a taxi to Waterloo and reached Petersfield by 5 p.m. Robert de Pomereaux came at 6:30 p.m. for Krishnaji’s treatment.’
September first. ‘Krishnaji held the second question-and-answer meeting. Too many young people spoke up.’ [Chuckles.] ‘Krishnaji went to bed and had lunch on a tray, but he got up later to treat de Pomereaux and Alfonso Colon. Then Krishnaji, Scott, and I walked around the lanes. I talked after supper with Nicole Philippeau.’
September second. ‘I took the car for its required annual inspection. In the afternoon, I met Alan Kishbaugh and Stella Resnick at Petersfield. They are here for the weekend. Krishnaji talked after lunch to Elena Greene.’ That’s Felix’s wife. ‘I went on the walk with Krishnaji and Scott. Krishnaji treated de Pomereaux, and there were gale winds in the night.’
The third of September. ‘Krishnaji gave a very fine third talk at 11:30 a.m. Mary and Joe came. Joe had salad with us after the talk, and then Krishnaji went to the tent for hot food. Mark Edwards photographed Krishnaji and David Bohm. He treated de Pomereaux. I walked with Krishnaji and Scott. It was windy.’
September fourth. ‘It rained. Krishnaji gave the fourth Brockwood talk—one of the greatest ever. We had salad upstairs, and then went back to the tent for the rest of the food. Krishnaji was interviewed by Tim McGrath for the Irish Times. Kishbaugh and Stella left, and so did many others as the talks are over.’
The fifth of September. ‘People are leaving. It is a beautiful day. Krishnaji treated de Pomereaux, then walked with Scott and me. In the evening, Krishnaji and I watched a videocassette movie.’
September sixth. ‘I worked to finish up the things on my desk. At 4 p.m., Krishnaji met with Dorothy, the committee of four running the school, and me. Then I walked with him and Scott. Though we are taking only hand luggage tomorrow, I was up until midnight finishing things.’
September seven. ‘Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I left Brockwood; Krishnaji and I going in one car with Stephen, and Dr. Parchure with Scott in another. Those at Brockwood were out on the driveway to see Krishnaji off. Dorothy looked on the edge of tears. She is disturbed and unhappy. I think I understand, as though I could see into her head, and I want to write her. I talked to Stephen on the way to Heathrow—how difficult it is for people, so close to working well together and yet tripping over the quirks in their own natures. Scott was in the backup car in case of a puncture. Krishnaji had said it was necessary. Rita Zampese met us at Heathrow, and helped very much with the ticket counter man as the return portion of Dr. Parchure’s ticket had been lost. Rita brought Krishnaji from London his new, thin Huntsman trousers, which they made for him in ten days. A special favor. Krishnaji used a wheelchair, and it whizzed us through the formalities. We flew to Los Angeles on TWA 761 at 11 a.m. What is ahead in California? We go there forcibly because of Rajagopal’s demand that our depositions be taken in his lawsuit against us by October first. I feel waves of wanting to protect Krishnaji, wanting him to smile, to be well, able as he was on Sunday in the tent at Brockwood to soar in his words, opening the heavens.’ Goodness, I was flowery.
S: Good, yes.
M: [chuckles] ‘He has just come by where I am sitting in this airplane, moving with a spring; stopping intensely, and asking, “You are alright?” and going forward to his single seat, the one he always has…’ We were lucky in that TWA had, in first class, two single seats opposite each other…
S: Yes, in the very front.
M: And in the bulkhead, so you could close off the rest of the world, and put your feet up on the bulkhead. At least I did. He didn’t. [Both chuckle.] ‘…the one he always has was possible on these flights. I could not get the one next to him this time. A little boy has it, and he is reading music instead of comic books. I asked if we could trade, but his large mother in the row behind spoke up protectively, like the cow and the little calf we passed at Brockwood yesterday on the afternoon walk.’ [Both chuckle.]
S: That’s not very complimentary! [Laughter.]
M: No, but I think you have the flavor of what I was feeling. [Laughs.]
S: Yes, that’s right, and that’s what we want.
M: ‘This morning I felt the surprise of my feet on English soil, knowing that this afternoon I would be in California. Krishnaji, who wanted to give me his forward seat, is pleased because the one I have is the next best: a single seat, in the middle, three rows back, an aisle on either side of it. To have space from one’s fellows is the luxury.’ [Chuckles.]
S: Yes. Now, only because there’s nothing too trivial for me, when you two had the two front seats—who would sit on the left, and who would sit on the right?
M: Oh, Krishnaji on the left, and I on the right. He always instinctively…
S: Wanted the left, yes. The left-hand side. I know.
M: Yes. Well, when we were together, it was that way. But I think when he was alone on these flights, I think he sat on the right because—and I found this hard to believe, but I will tell you—passing over Greenland, there’s a place he recognized from previous trips that is on the right. How anyone could…over the expanse of Greenland…
S: Which is all white.
M: Yes. Which is all snowy. [S chuckles.] But he would not only recognize this place, but he could tell it was just ahead—he would say, “We’re coming to it.” I don’t know. You can interpret it as you like. [S chuckles.] ‘I see his blessed head there, and all is well. We are moving toward who knows what in California, but this is all that fills life for me. He is there. Later we reached Los Angeles at 2 p.m. Again, a wheelchair made it less tiring. Mark Lee and Michael Krohnen were there with a school van, and we drove in the van to Ojai. The garden and house are beautiful. Dennis had opened the house.’ Dennis Gottschalk was doing wonderful cleaning in those days. ‘Dr. Parchure has never been in the U.S. before. He is over at Arya Vihara. Krishnaji is pleased to be here. In spite of the reason for this trip, I am, too.’
September eighth. ‘It is a marvelous morning. Krishnaji and I walked about the garden looking at every flourishing plant; everything looking beautiful. Alasdair has it freshly and beautifully planted. I talked at length to Amanda, then took Dr. Parchure to the village on errands. We all lunched at Arya Vihara. Krishnaji and I talked over everything with Erna and Theo.’
The ninth. ‘I spoke to my brother at the Vineyard, and to one of his daughters in New York. At 10 a.m., Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I went over to the Oak Grove School, and saw the upper school buildings going up. They are quite large. I took the green Mercedes to Dieter, the garage man, and brought back the gray one, which had been serviced.’
September tenth. ‘I woke up early, and so did Krishnaji, but he is getting adjusted to the time change and said he had a good meditation. I left at 8 a.m., and drove to Malibu, where I spent the morning with Amanda and Phil. I then went to have my hair cut, bought cheese, etcetera, and came back. It is very hot. I got back by 5:15 p.m., made our supper, and slept early.’
We can skip the next couple of days as there is nothing much. But on September thirteenth, ‘I went in the morning with Erna and Theo to our lawyer Cohen’s office, where Erna’s deposition was taken by Rajagopal’s lawyer, Avsham. Annie Vigeveno and Austin Bee were present. Another of our lawyers, Stuart Comis, was with us. We broke for lunch, which we had in a coffee shop. Erna resumed her deposition by Avsham, but he called it off after an hour, reserving the right to have a court hearing later on whether Erna must answer certain questions. I came back and reported everything to Krishnaji.’
September fourteenth: ‘There was an early walk with Krishnaji, Erna, and Dr. Parchure to McNell Road and back. Erna and I continued around the block. There was a meeting at 10 a.m. at Zelma Wilson’s office about a study center.’ She was an architect. ‘It was another hot day.’
The fifteenth of September: ‘Erna and I had an early walk. At 11 a.m. in the gray car, Krishnaji and I drove to Dieter’s, exchanged it for the green one, and drove on via Malibu to Beverly Hills for an appointment with Helen for Krishnaji to have a haircut. The air conditioning in the car made it more comfortable, but it is slightly less hot today anyway. We had a picnic lunch on a shady Beverly Hills street, and drove home.’
September sixteenth: ‘The early walk was with Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, Erna, and me. She and I went around the block, but Krishnaji and Parchure only to McNell and back. At 10 a.m., there was a tea at the Oak Grove School for the staff. We lunched at Arya Vihara, and slept in the afternoon. It is still hot weather.’ I’m surprised that I took all these naps because I’m not good at naps.
S: Well, maybe you were better then.
M: I was better then.
S: [chuckles] I think it’s a skill you should re-acquire.
M: Yes, I really would rather like to have it. My brother keeps telling me how he had a nap, but I don’t seem to be able to do that.
Then there’s really nothing until September twentieth. ‘At 8 a.m., Krishnaji, Erna, Theo, and I went to Mr. Cohen’s office in Oxnard. We talked to him from 9 a.m. for an hour, and then Mr. Avsham, Rajagopal’s lawyer, began the taking of Krishnaji’s deposition. Mima Porter, Annie Vigeveno, and Austin Bee were present. We stopped at noon for lunch, which we had in the office, then resumed the deposition at 1:10 p.m. and continued till 2:30 p.m. when Krishnaji was tired, and it was ended for the day.’
September twenty-first. ‘Krishnaji, Erna, Theo, and I went to Cohen’s office for a 10 o’clock continuation of Krishnaji’s deposition by Avsham. Vigeveno and Bee were present. We had a sandwich lunch between 1 p.m. and 2 p.m., and continued afterward until 4 p.m. Dorothy rang in the morning from Brockwood, and Pupul from Delhi.’
The next day. ‘Krishnaji, Erna, Theo, and I were at Cohen’s office for a 10 a.m. continuation of Krishnaji’s deposition. Porter, Vigeveno, and Bee were present. Krishnaji met nastiness head-on and dealt with it very well. Questions ended suddenly at 11:20 a.m., and we were out of there. We came back and had our sandwich lunches at the Lilliefelts’.’
September twenty-third. ‘I went with Erna and Theo to Cohen’s office for my deposition. Stuart Comis was with me, though Cohen came in briefly. I testified till noon when Avsham broke it off for his own schedule elsewhere. We came back to lunch at Arya Vihara. My deposition is to continue Monday.’ That was a Friday.
September twenty-fourth: ‘It is the first day of autumn, and the weather has cooled. I went on the early walk with Erna. Krishnaji spent the day in bed resting, except at 11 a.m., when he and Dr. Parchure discussed Indian matters with Erna, Theo, and me. He had lunch in bed. I ate with the others at Arya Vihara, had a nap, did marketing, and a quiet rest of day.’
The next day is uneventful, but on September twenty-sixth, ‘I went with Erna and Theo to Cohen’s office. My deposition continued from 9:30 a.m. until about 10:45 a.m., when Avsham had no more questions. Vigeveno and Bee were there. I came back to lunch at Arya Vihara, then did errands in the village in the afternoon. Philippa called from Connecticut.’
The twenty-seventh: ‘Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I left at 7 a.m. for Lailee’s office, where Krishnaji had a fasting blood sugar test, 117. Then we breakfasted at Lindberg’s.’ That was the health food place. He liked going there. ‘We returned at 11 a.m. for an exam by Lailee, and the postprandial blood sugar test. On the way back, we stopped in Malibu at Winky’s new bookshop’—she’d moved from her previous location in Westwood—‘for some thrillers; then drove on to Sycamore Park where we ate our picnic lunch quite late.’ Sycamore Park is a little park on the coast highway. ‘Krishnaji had driven the green car on the way down very happily. “I didn’t think I could anymore, that I would be too old,” he said.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘We got back at 5 p.m. Took a bit of a nap, as we were both tired.’
September twenty-eighth: ‘I went on the early walk, but spent most of the day being quiet. In the afternoon, Krishnaji and I walked in light rain to the dip and back. Doctors think he must exercise each day.’
The next day there isn’t much except that Krishnaji was invited to speak at Los
September thirtieth. ‘It rained quite heavily. There was a trustees meeting at 10 a.m. All were present, and Dr. Parchure joined later. Everyone lunched at Arya Vihara and continued with Mark, and David Moody in the afternoon. Krishnaji and I walked in the rain to the dip and back.’
The first of October. ‘Ojai had three-and-a-half inches of rain, but it cleared today.’ That’s remarkable for September, it doesn’t usually rain. ‘Krishnaji dictated letters, and I typed them. I walked down McAndrew Road with Krishnaji at 5 p.m.’
There’s nothing much the next day, but on October third, ‘I went on the early walk with Erna, and Krishnaji began his jumping exercises in the morning. It was a warm day. After lunch, Krishnaji and I went to foot treatments by Dr. Hara in Santa Paula, stopping on the way to pick up Mar de Manziarly, who is living with her sister Yo. We dropped her off on the way back. Krishnaji walked down McAndrew with Dr. Parchure, and ate very well for supper. He says the exercise is doing him good.’ I presume that’s Krishnaji who says that.
The next day, ‘I went for the early walk with Erna. It was a hot day, and I spent most of it working at my desk. In the afternoon, Krishnaji, Erna, Theo, and I, with Alan Hooker, went to look at the former Zalk house, which is now being offered for sale. It is a mess, and not suitable for a study center.’ It’s above the Oak Grove, up on that ridge.
Then there’s nothing until October sixth. ‘I went on the early walk with Erna, and made picnic lunches when I got back. At 10 a.m., Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and I left for Beverly Hills. They bought books, walked, and ate their picnics in the car while I had my hair cut. Then we went to the UCLA Medical Center, where Dr. Paul Ward examined Krishnaji’s larynx. There’s nothing wrong, he said, but there is the normal diminishment of the vocal cords by age and usage, common in opera singers.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘We were out of there by 4 p.m., and drove back along the beach.’
Again, nothing much on the seventh, but on October eighth, ‘At 5 p.m., Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, Theo, Erna, and I met Evelyne and we all went to Burbank.’ We must have had at least two cars. ‘On a side street, we ate a picnic dinner, then went to the NBC studio where, at 8 p.m., a fifty-two minute interview of Krishnaji was done by Keith Berwick for broadcast. Krishnaji was splendid. We got back to Ojai by 11 p.m. Patricia Hunt-Perry says Krishnaji is invited to speak at the UN on April seventeenth.’
October ninth. ‘I spent most of the day working at my desk and doing house things. Krishnaji slept poorly last night because last night’s upset in the house put him off, but he slept most of morning.’ What was the upset in the house? And, of course, I’ve nothing for that date in the big diary. I don’t know. We’ll have to go on.
The tenth of October: ‘I did the early walk with Erna. It is a lovely day. I came back, did laundry, and tidied the house. We had a slightly earlier lunch, then Alan Kishbaugh drove Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, and me to the Los Angeles airport. Evelyne came there too to see Krishnaji off. He, Dr. Parchure, and I left at six on TWA 760 for London. Krishnaji and I had the good seats, one and nine in first class, and were able to sleep a bit. Krishnaji was quite exhausted when we got on board, but the flight was less tiring than at other times.’
The eleventh: ‘We landed at Heathrow just before noon. Rita Zampese met us, and Krishnaji had a wheelchair, so we went quickly through everything. Hugues van der Straten, Mary Cadogan, and Ingrid were there, and Dorothy was waiting in the Saab. Krishnaji and I drove with her to Brockwood. Mary Cadogan and Hugues came in his car, and Ingrid brought Dr. Parchure. We all arrived in time for lunch. We talked after lunch with Hugues and Mary C., and to Mary L. by phone. I had a short nap, and then walked with Krishnaji and Scott.’
There’s nothing much the next day except that Jean-Michel Maroger arrived.
October thirteenth: ‘It rained most of the day. Krishnaji talked to the students at 11:45 a.m., and I went to a staff meeting occurring at that time. After lunch, I went in a school car to Alresford to get the Mercedes license renewed. Dr. Parchure talked at length with Dorothy. Krishnaji was tired and didn’t feel like a walk. I walked around the lanes with Scott.’
The fourteenth: ‘Krishnaji slept nine hours after Dr. Parchure gave him a Compoz tablet. Krishnaji saw de Pomereaux. Mary and Joe came at noon, and stayed till 4 p.m. A Mercedes van was brought and looked at for video.’ I see your hand in that. [S chuckles.]
October fifteenth: ‘There was wind and rain much of the day. Krishnaji spoke to the Brockwood staff at 11:45 a.m. Jane and Ian Hammond came to lunch, and it was decided to wall up the West Wing, instead of putting doors to separate the West Wing hall from the blue room area, which becomes part of the school library. After coffee in Dorothy’s office, others left, and I had a long talk with her about her present situation, and later she walked with Krishnaji and me around the lanes. It’s the first time she’s been on the walk with Krishnaji and me since her heart attack. In the evening, Krishnaji spoke of what he saw he can do with the staff discussions when they still hold to opinions.’
The sixteenth. ‘Krishnaji didn’t sleep well. At 11:45 a.m., Krishnaji spoke to the school and guests. There is a good group of new students. The Bohms were there, and David spoke with Krishnaji after lunch. Mr. Grohe and his son from Switzerland sat with Krishnaji at lunch and discussed with him and Gisèle Balleys their interest in a Swiss school. At 4:30 p.m. Krishnaji met the five: Dorothy, Ingrid, Scott, Harsh, and Stephen, and me. He clarified Dorothy’s activities, etcetera. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked.’
Monday, the seventeenth: ‘It is a clear day. Krishnaji slept well on half a tablet of Compoz. He rested all morning. Mr. Grohe left after donating 50,000 Swiss francs to Brockwood. Tungki gave 8,000 pounds sterling.’ Do you remember Tungki?
S: I remember him well.
M: Yes. ‘I took the car out to encourage the battery. At 3 p.m., as world teacher not only personal, do nothing unnecessary. If anything happened to you, it would be a blow physically and psychically.’ What in the world am I talking about? ‘Walked in the afternoon with Krishnaji and Dorothy.’
S: That sounds like a quote from Krishnaji.
M: It does, but it isn’t in quotes. It sounds like he’s admonishing me not to do dangerous things, but it isn’t explained. But we’ll soon get back to the big diary. I’m sorry this is so incomplete.
S: We’re grateful we have what we have.
M: October eighteenth. ‘Krishnaji slept moderately well, but was tired. He spoke to the staff at 11:45 a.m. I talked to somebody about future insurance at 10 a.m. At 11 a.m., Ms. Adrian Spanier’—she was the decorator woman who got me things—‘came with samples for curtains, etcetera. Krishnaji liked, for his bedroom, the red and white version of fabric I have in my bedroom in Ojai. Ms. Spanier stayed for lunch.’ They’re still there, the red and white curtains. ‘Krishnaji was tired and went only for a short walk. Dorothy and I went further.’
Wednesday the nineteenth. Now we have the big diary. ‘Krishnaji took half a Compoz pill at 11:30 p.m. last night, and slept until 6:30 a.m. but looked very tired. He has looked this way the last three days, increasingly. I met Mary Cadogan at the 10:30 a.m. Petersfield train. We talked at some length about the situation here at Brockwood, and she talked with Dr. Parchure before lunch. After lunch, Krishnaji spoke with her and me in the little blue room about events in California, what has happened here, and some of his plans and problems in India. He reached out in his imagination to what he wants at Brockwood: the place is in a rut. Now it must grow, change, move, be alive. It is the only center in Europe, and must draw people. His ideas were vivid, but his manner of speech was slow and almost difficult, as though it were an effort.’
‘He slept for an hour, and then came to tell me that we must go for a walk. I called Dorothy, and we started off down the drive along the lane to West Meon, but Krishnaji then said he had pulled a muscle when he walked fast Saturday, and it was hurting him, so he turned back. It must’ve been hurting him yesterday when he also turned back, but he didn’t tell me or Dr. Parchure about the pain. His face these past days has looked gaunt. His posture is round-shouldered, older, and unlike his usual, almost boy’s vitality. It turns a knife in me.’
‘I talked to Parchure in the evening. He gave Krishnaji a vitamin B12 shot last night, but it and sleep have not given him strength. I said Krishnaji must rest, not speak for the remaining week here before India. Parchure has given up on trying to persuade him to rest, but I said we should try again together. Krishnaji was watching TV with Scott. I waited until it was over, and said my piece. Dr. Parchure joined, and said he didn’t know what else to suggest medically. Did Krishnaji know what was making him so tired? Krishnaji thought and said it was Rajagopal’s attack, which he was feeling now. “It wasn’t the trip. I slept on the plane. I liked being in Ojai, I felt well there.” Reluctantly, he was persuaded by Dr. Parchure, and me, and Scott that though he will talk to the students tomorrow, he will rest after that, and not’—underlined not—‘talk to the school Sunday or have the two discussions he was planning next week to the staff and students. Also, he very reluctantly agreed not to go to London on Monday as we had planned to lunch with Mary and Joe, and to have his hair cut. When the other two left, Krishnaji said he felt better already because he had talked about it. I put a hot pad on his leg. “I’ll be all right tomorrow, you’ll see, ” he said.’ [S chuckles.]
October twentieth. ‘Krishnaji slept well without pills. “Like a log,” he said, until 7:15 a.m. He looks much better. He said wistfully, “Couldn’t I go to London Monday?” He wants to see the fitting of Maxwell shoes he had urged me to order in June, but he took it with equanimity when I pointed out the waste of his precious energy, and so, Mary L. will come down here on Monday. He spoke for one and three-quarter hours to the students, but will omit further talks until he leaves for India. He came out of this talk with the students looking fresh, and we lunched. He rested all afternoon. No walk. I went to the staff meeting. After supper, we watched a TV program about tigers, gorillas, and other wild animals kept by a man named Aspinall here in Britain. Before going to sleep, Krishnaji said to me, “They are immature here. This place must become something marvelous. You must be careful. Look after yourself. Do you understand? I might die, and you must see that this place is marvelous. You must live as if I were already dead. Do you understand what I’m telling you? When I leave Ojai, it is out of my mind. The house, the roses, Rajagopal, and all that, and when I leave here, it will be out of my mind, and when I leave India, that too.” I asked him, “Are you telling me something more?” Krishnaji replied, “No, I’m not going to die. I will live a long time more, I hope. But you must understand how to live.”’
October twenty-first. ‘Krishnaji slept well. I took the 9:46 a.m. to London. Joe kindly met me in Waterloo and drove me to Peter Jones, where I shopped for Viyella for Krishnaji to have made into shirts in India. He says he needs to wear warmer things. I walked to the General Trading Company for tableware he wants for Vasanta Vihar, and then I went on to Harrods, where I got him warm gloves, etcetera. Also, he wants some things from Floris for Vatsala’—that’s Parchure’s wife. ‘There was no suitable Viyella at Peter Jones, so I went to Liberty’s and wound up with seven pieces for shirts. I was tired by 3:30 p.m., so went to Waterloo and back. Krishnaji had rested in bed all day and looked well. Dr. Parchure has taken his blood sugar levels. Fasting 105. Postprandial 130. Blood pressure was 108 over 80.’
The twenty-second. ‘Krishnaji remained in bed all day. He dictated a piece on the future of Brockwood, what it must become. More than a school, a place where people seriously interested in the teachings can come to study. A place for the awakening of intelligence without a leader for, “The teachings themselves are the expression of truth which serious people must find for themselves.” Hugues van der Straten and his daughter, Fabienne, arrived, and Krishnaji spoke to her in the morning, and again in the afternoon. I talked to him at some length about Brockwood, and joined him, Dorothy, Christina, and two students in the vegetable garden in the afternoon, where we sorted potatoes in the sharp autumn air and sunlight. In the evening, Krishnaji had me read the dictation to him, Scott, and Dr. Parchure; and he put in additions that put responsibility on me for bringing things about at Brockwood, as if he was out of it, but repeated that he would live another ten years. Krishnaji’s voice was hoarse in the evening. The two days in bed have given him rest but no surge of energy.’
October twenty-third. ‘Krishnaji saw Fabienne in the morning and then talked to Hugues. I read Krishnaji’s dictation on Brockwood to Hugues, and discussed the future at length with him. I did the same to Mary Cadogan by telephone. Krishnaji got up for lunch and talked a lot with Dorothy at the table. The Bohms were there. Hugues and Fabienne left. I barely had time to lie down before Krishnaji came in to say we should go for a walk. Summertime ended this morning. The clocks are turned back, and it was darkening as we walked around the lanes. Krishnaji’s pulled muscle is healed, and he walked well, firmly, and without apparent fatigue. The air was bracing. I told him of the conversations with Hugues and Mary Cadogan. We need to build up money reserves for the future of Brockwood. He spoke of doing more tapes as they bring income, and we will try to build a reserve financially. “We mustn’t buy any more houses,” he said. But, when we passed the Dell cottages, he said we must get the two we don’t own when they become available. He said India has enough property and funds, and when we someday sell Saanen, the proceeds shouldn’t be divided three ways with India. His will divides anything he owns between KFA, KFT, and KFI. But, he said he might change that. As to anything in the teaching trust, I must give half of it’—well, the teaching trust was the Alzina thing…It became teaching trust.
S: Right. Yes.
M: ‘…as to anything in the teaching trust, I must give half to KFT and half to KFA. He earlier spoke of my responsibility to Brockwood. I must act as if he were gone. But he repeated he would live another ten years. He was again beautiful and strong on the walk. My heart beats in response to his. He said to me, “there is no separation between us. I care deeply for you. I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been to anyone, do you understand? You must never feel isolated; that would be terrible. You must be strong here; you must help them here—not the details. You sometimes start with details. It is the whole. You must see to it here and at Ojai, if I die now or in ten years, you must take charge, with others. Something else is looking after me. My health is all right. When you write, be careful. No one knows who opens letters.’ This is all going-to-India advice. ‘I talked at length after supper with Dorothy about Brockwood’s future, the study center, etcetera.’
The twenty-fourth. ‘I went to Alresford for chocolates for Krishnaji to take to India. Christopher Titmus came to lunch. He wants to talk to Krishnaji in the spring. Krishnaji spoke to Gisèle Balleys, and a student named Per Dalgren.’ Does that mean anything to you?
S: Yes, he was a nice student. I remember him.
M: Yes. ‘Then Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked around the lanes. Krishnaji dictated a subject for exploration in the possible brain seminar in June which Juan Hancke is suggesting.’ Who was Juan?
S: He was a biology teacher at Brockwood. He was from Chile, I think, and had a PhD on something about the brain.
October twenty-fifth. ‘Mary and Joe came at noon. Mary lunched with us, and Joe, who has had a cold, went to the pub, and came back for her. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked around the lanes. I helped Krishnaji pack.’
The twenty-sixth. ‘I met Mary C. at Petersfield. She talked with Krishnaji and me about India. I spoke to Vanda in Florence. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked in the lanes, and saw a scarlet maple. Krishnaji went early to bed. The Mercedes was washed and resin-ed.’
October twenty-seventh. ‘Krishnaji came and woke me up 4:30 a.m. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I left at 7:30 in the Mercedes, and Dr. Parchure went in another car with Scott and Kathy. It was very foggy, but we reached Heathrow before 9 a.m. Rita Zampese met us there, and was able to accompany Krishnaji and Dr. Parchure right onto the British Air airplane. Krishnaji and Dr. Parchure flew at 10:15 a.m. to Delhi. Dorothy and I drove back to Brockwood. Krishnaji is due in Delhi tonight, British time, but 4:20 a.m. in India. He stays with Pupul in Delhi.’
Then there isn’t much about Krishnaji because he isn’t with me. Oh, I see that on October twenty-ninth, you and Kathy moved into the West Wing while renovations were being done on your cottage.
S: I remember that.
M: On October thirty-first, ‘Krishnaji telephoned me from Delhi, but I was in London. He called back on the next day, November first. He says he is well, and asked me to send the file of letters about India of the last months. I spoke briefly to Pupul, and posted the file in the afternoon.’
Editor’s Note: The rest of the entries, while interesting for the history of the rebuilding of Brockwood after the fire, and for the history of Mary’s life, have little to do with Krishnaji, and so have been edited out. Mary does track Krishnaji’s movements in India, announce when various talks occurred, and relate Dr. Parchure’s letters to her about Krishnaji’s health; these have value for the archives, but probably hold little interest to the readers of these memoirs.