Issue #85

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Issue 85—June 21, 1985 to August 5, 1985


It seems correct to present frankly to you, the many readers of these memoirs, some factors that increasingly affect what you are reading. From the beginning, I tried to be as invisible in these memoirs as possible. This was relatively easy before I came into the story—my role up to that point had been simply one of asking Mary clarifying questions. But when I did come into the story, Mary kept telling me that we were “collaborating” in this project, and she wanted me to add my own memories. For the most part, these have been edited out as I didn’t want to intrude in Mary’s story; but many friends reading these memoirs have insisted that it is not only wrong to reduce my voice but also futile. As Mary’s story increasingly includes me, I have accepted less invisibility. This is especially true for the period covered in the last issue and from now on as I also kept detailed notes of the events, and Mary increasingly asked me to contribute from those notes.

There is another factor that needs candor as it affects what you are reading. My first “living” of the events Mary discusses in her memoirs was my simply being present or hearing firsthand about them at the time. I “lived” these events a second time when Mary and I had the discussions that form these memoirs. The third “living” of these events is the very careful re-listening of the discussions to proof them and then the painstaking editing and presenting of these memoirs for In the Presence of Krishnamurti. Consequently, I am as deeply steeped in this third “living” as, I believe, it is possible to be.

To say that the first “living” was life transforming for me is an understatement; but the second and third “living” of that remarkable time and presence have also been extremely intense and impactful for me. I can only imagine that this three-times “living” has affected what you are reading, although I don’t know what that effect is. Perhaps it is a tolerance for minutia (like an archeologist who can be absorbed in the smallest detail of a tiny pottery shard), or perhaps it is allowing elaborations of things that deeply moved me in my first two “livings.” In any event, it seems only right to be candid with all of you who have accompanied Mary and me these last eighty-five weeks.

This is the first issue in which Mary says she wishes that our discussions would never end. The unstated obvious fact is that we both know our discussions, which had been ongoing by this time for eleven years, will soon come to an end, as Krishnaji’s life is soon to come to an end. The poignancy for both of us, and now with this third “living,” is almost unbearable.

The Memoirs of Mary Zimbalist: Issue #85

Mary: We begin today with June twenty-first, 1985, and we are at Brockwood, but not much happened. My diary just reads, ‘Rain all day. Didn’t go out, but worked all day at my desk. I spoke to Erna in Ojai.’

The next day is similarly short. ‘Packing. Mary Cadogan is back from holiday, and on the telephone I brought her up to date.’

Scott: Essentially this means, [chuckles] just to remind you, this means that Mary Cadogan was being told for the first time that the school of which she was a trustee had a new principal.

M: Oh, really?

S: Yes. Without Dorothy knowing. Without most of the school knowing. And without any of the trustees knowing. It was done on my birthday.

M: Oh, well, [chuckles] no wonder you remember it. Well, that’s the way it should be. [S laughs.]

June twenty-third. ‘Krishnaji and I had breakfast at 6:15 a.m., and we left Brockwood at 7:15 a.m. with Dorothy and Scott to Heathrow. Krishnaji and I flew on Swissair. Our departure was delayed because everyone had to identify their luggage laid out on the runway before boarding, a security protection.’ They wanted proof that the owners of the bags were really on the flight, to prevent bombs—unless they were suicidal, of course, which in those days was not a problem.

S: Yes. Exactly. Yes.

M: ‘One suitcase was unclaimed and the police took it away.’ [S chuckles.] ‘In Geneva we took a taxi to the Hotel des Bergues and our usual rooms. We rested, then walked across the bridge and had tea at Mövenpick.’ [Chuckles.] Do you remember those? Sort of a food-dispensing place all over Switzerland.

S: Yes, supermarkets.

M: ‘We dined in the Amphitryon. Krishnaji’s hands were shaking, and it bothered him. In a window, he had seen a very small electric typewriter with a complete sort of display. It is made by Brother, and there’s something similar from Minolta, and we wondered if it would make letter writing easier for him in India. Once again, the accustomed Swiss orderly rooms were pleasant. There was especially an enjoyment for me because of its associations with all one’s summers coming here. It made me feel quietly very fortunate.’

The twenty-fourth. ‘We went to a Mercedes agency to look at a Mercedes 300E-124 series. Then to Jacquet to order ties—six for Joe, three for Theo, and three for Krishnaji. We lunched in the Amphitryon then walked to Patek for the annual watch inspection and finally to buy Krishnaji a towel bathrobe at the Pharmacie Principale. The groove of our yearly errands has its charm. Hertz delivered a cream Opel Corsa, and we drove slowly along the lake and then up into the mountains. Krishnaji was not relaxed in the car as in the past; he is uneasy that we are driving too fast through the villages. He says to go forty kilometers an hour, so we creep through them.’ [Chuckles.] ‘Instead of a pleasant drive through the Swiss scenery, it all seemed to tire him. Both Vanda and Raman had arrived at the chalet, L’O Perrevoué.’ That’s the name of that chalet. Raman was cooking that year instead of Fosca, who had done it for so many years. ‘They had arrived yesterday. Krishnaji and I are downstairs in Friedrich Grohe’s flat, which he has lent to Krishnaji. Vanda and I have rented the four-bedroom apartment upstairs where we will all take our meals. Krishnaji saw Grohe’s flat last summer and said it was all right, but he is not pleased with it now.’

S: In my account, and I’ve been reading over my accounts of this time before our discussion, it says that Krishnaji’s room was very dark.

M: Yes, it was dark.

S: It had only a little tiny window up high, and was partly underground.

M: Yes, the land was sloping.

S: Yes. Krishnaji called it “the dungeon.” [Chuckles.] Raman, Dr. Parchure, and Vanda were upstairs.

M: Yes. Well, I can’t remember if it was upstairs or if it was a chalet next door. It’s funny that I have absolutely no memory of that place.

S: Yes. Everyone wanted you and Krishnaji to exchange with them, but Krishnaji didn’t want to because he didn’t feel right about putting someone else in “the dungeon.” [Chuckles.] And everybody else wanted him to get out of “the dungeon.”

M: That’s right. Krishnaji had what was supposed to be the best room in the apartment, but it was just that the land sloped and his room was mostly underground. I had a room next to his, but it was not a dungeon. [Chuckles.] It was just a room.

S: Right. Yes.

M: June twenty-fifth. ‘Krishnaji slept well. I spent the morning getting settled. Vanda, Raman, and I lunched. In the afternoon, we took Raman to enter his driver’s license on the Hertz contract so he could drive the rental car for errands. Then we did errands in Gstaad. At 5 p.m., Krishnaji and I drove past empty Chalet Tannegg to our old dear familiar walk. Our first of the season. Krishnaji went a little ahead into the wood, “To see if we are welcome,” he said. We were.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘Friedrich came in after supper.’

The twenty-sixth. ‘It was a clear morning, but it rained later. Scott telephoned. The Mercedes through the diplomatic corps could only be ordered in October. There’s a hearing on the building permission for The Study tomorrow, which is a preliminary hurdle, but the final decision on getting building permission is delayed.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘Mary Cadogan rang. She’d seen Dorothy, who confirmed she is retiring. Mary told her something about Scott being the principal. She said it went fairly well. Dr. Parchure arrived.’

S: I don’t want to intrude in your recounting of things, but my notes are a little different, and I think, accurate…[chuckles].

M: Say what you have; we’re collaborators.

S: Alright. My notes specify that Mary Cadogan said that when she had this conversation with Dorothy, she told Dorothy that when Dorothy did retire that I would probably be the principal.

M: Oh. She softened it.

S: Considerably, so, it wasn’t yet a fact, as far as Dorothy knew—it was only that when Dorothy did retire, this would probably be what would happen.

M: I see.

S: And [M chuckles], as we’ll see later on, Dorothy didn’t find out that she was no longer the principal until she was sitting in the International Committees Meeting.

M: Ouch. Mary Cadogan laid a bear trap for her by being so tactful.

S: Yes. I thought it was unfortunate.

M: June twenty-seventh. ‘Vanda and I went to look at a chalet for next summer near Tannegg. It was rather large. Friedrich lunched with us, then he had a rest. Scott rang from Brockwood. The county hearing on the permit to build The Study went well. Krishnaji and I walked along the river across from the tent site, as the Tannegg walk was too muddy.’

The twenty-eighth of June. ‘Vanda and I looked at another chalet for next year on the Wispile.’ That’s a mountain, but it wasn’t nice. ‘Friedrich came to lunch. Krishnaji and I walked in the late afternoon along the river by the airfield.’

The next day: ‘I went to buy a tray for Krishnaji’s meals. Friedrich Grohe came to lunch. He showed Vanda and me a chalet he has rented, Chalet Heidi. It’s too small for us. Krishnaji had slight cold symptoms, so no walk.’

June thirtieth. ‘Krishnaji is better. I worked at my desk in the morning. After the nap. Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure, Raman, and I walked near the shooting practice range, and then along the river and the airfield.’ All Swiss adult males are in the army and have to be ready to leap with their guns to defend the country, and they have to practice shooting.  So that’s where we walked. We didn’t get fired at, but we were there. [Chuckles.]

July first. ‘I walked down to the market. Pupul arrived in a government car to stay till Thursday. She has just come from the opening in Washington of the Festival of India and Rajiv Gandhi’s first official visit. She and Kathy Forbes were at lunch. Krishnaji and I walked along the airfield. Krishnaji started having supper alone in bed or at a table downstairs.’ What table downstairs?

S: Downstairs was where you and Krishnaji were, and there was a small place to eat, with a little table, and sometimes he would eat down there in the dungeon.

M: I really don’t recollect that place. [Chuckles.] ‘I rang Erna to tell Michael to come as soon as he can.’ To cook, I guess.

July second: ‘I went to Gstaad for juices for Krishnaji. Krishnaji talked with Pupul about things in her book. When I got back, Krishnaji and I set out for the airfield walk, but hay fever started in the car, so we came back.’

July third. ‘I went for an early walk on the mountain on my own. Krishnaji had tried not taking his one-quarter Halcion tablet, so he slept only one-and-a-half hours. Pupul had breakfast with us downstairs and discussed India’s perennial copyright complaint. She says that there are only two things that are acceptable to India and that they are: 1) Share the copyright, which is unacceptable to England as it is in the KFT’s only asset and giving it up, even in part, would jeopardize our tax-exempt status; or 2) India publish a book every third year in the West, without vetting by England, and with any publisher they choose.’  She always resented the KFT having anything to do with KFI books. ‘Failing either of these, Krishnaji would have to decide, which he doesn’t want to do. I got Mary Cadogan in London on the phone so they could speak directly about all this. I did this in order to make friendly relations with India, but all the concessions to India that have been made so far have not achieved that. Scott arrived last night. He came to see Krishnaji. Krishnaji slept from 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. then came to lunch but slept again all afternoon. His stomach is not right. Friedrich, in Zürich to meet the Lilliefelts, rang to say that there is a huge fire in Ojai. Grand Avenue is being evacuated. I tried to telephone but couldn’t get through. So I rang the Dunnes. Amanda said Miranda, who was a TV news reporter, had covered the Ojai fire yesterday for the TV news but was pulled off to cover another one in Baldwin Hills. While we talked, Phil got Miranda via her beeper, and she said she thought the Ojai fire was better by now. Erna and Theo rang from Zürich on their arrival here. I advised them not to fly back, which they asked me about.’ They live on Grand Avenue, so it was, uh…

S: Yes. Exactly. I think more needs to be said about this, though. We need to have a little bit more of a discussion.

M: Please say.

S: Well, you don’t really bring out how ugly this was, what Pupul was doing—

M: Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

S: It was just hideous—she had put an ultimatum to Krishnaji.

M: She did.

S: And she called it an ultimatum. And Krishnaji felt it was an ultimatum.

M: He said to me later, “She made an ultimatum to me,” in that tone of voice. [Voice of shock and disbelief,]

S: Yes. Yes. Which was really ugly because she was saying that either India gets what she wants or Krishnaji is going to have to act as an authority, which is something Krishnaji—

M: Yes. He didn’t want to do.

S: —never wanted to do. He never wanted to be authoritarian. And so she was forcing him to do that.

M: Yes, that’s right.

S: And it was really very, very ugly, and I think that created a real break between Krishnaji and Pupul.

M: Yes, it was. But in my mind—but this is just my recollection—I have a picture in my mind of this happening at Brockwood and not in Switzerland.

S: In my notes, I have it that it happened in Switzerland, and it continues in Brockwood afterward, but it started there when Pupul first came. The problem, of course, with the copyright issue with India was perpetual. It was always in existence.

M: It was always there—they always wanted the copyright and the right to do all the editing.

S: Yes. They thought their English was as good as anybody else’s.

M: Yes. And it…[chuckles]

S: And it wasn’t.

M: When this began, their English was very poor. It did improve eventually.

S: Right. Yes, but just to say this was a really big deal. And also, in my notes…I keep interrupting with things in my notes…

M: Yes, do!

S: …that Krishnaji really wasn’t well. For this whole time.

M: No, that’s right.

S: This was the first time he hadn’t really enjoyed the drive through the Swiss countryside along the lake with you. I mention before that going out on several walks with him and you at Brockwood, he had more difficulty going over the stiles than I’d ever seen him have before. He was just slower. It wasn’t, uh—

M: He also didn’t like the rearrangement of his life in Switzerland.

S: Yes. The chalet didn’t work for him, but I think that he just also wasn’t well.

M: I think he wasn’t. Hence the taking sleeping medicine. He took a tiny bit, but for him that was a big deal.

S: Yes. Yes. I know. Also, something else that was in my notes was that, on this day when I arrived—and it happened twice that summer that really horrified me. When I arrived, Krishnaji—for my advancing the building permission for The Study, when I first greeted him—Krishnaji shook my hand and bowed to me and thanked me, and I was horrified at that. That he should ever feel gratitude to me for anything seemed so wrong. I felt so indebted to him that it was awful to me. I was so deeply ashamed [chuckles] that he would have such humility when I have so much more reason to be humble, and wasn’t. [Both laugh.]

M: Well, that’s sheer egotistical assessment of facts.

S: No doubt, but the whole thing—it shocked me that Krishnaji should bow to me like that. It was just—it was wrong to me. [M chuckles.] I can still feel it now. And he said that because he knew what time the meeting was—the preliminary building permission meeting—and he said that yes, he’d paid attention during that time. [M chuckles.] And he said he knew it when it had passed.

M: Did he? Well, that, uh…yes.

S: So he was…yes, so he was…I always thought that maybe he was the reason we got the permission. [Chuckles.] Anyway.

M: Well, I would not contest that.

July fourth. ‘Krishnaji slept nine hours. Pupul left in the morning. I went to Gstaad for a sleeveless cardigan for Krishnaji. Erna and Theo arrived with Friedrich from Zürich. The Lilliefelts have an apartment in Gstaad by the river and a rented car. They had news from Ojai. No houses had been lost. David Moody rang and said the fire came down through Horn Canyon, but was stopped. Ojai was safe, but the fire is heading for Carpinteria. Krishnaji had supper alone. He is hypersensitive. He said to me, “You’re not paying attention. It is very serious. The body is under attack.” He was very irritable that summer.

S: Yes. But he was right.

M: Yes.

S: I think it was just the cancer that—

M: Yes, I think so too. ‘Scott came by later. In talking, Krishnaji was full of energy, and he talked till 10 p.m.’

The next day. ‘Krishnaji slept well. I marketed in Rougemont, then worked at my desk. Erna and Theo came to lunch. My brother telephoned from the Vineyard about the Ojai fire. Scott came in the afternoon, and Krishnaji discussed with him, Parchure, and me about making the summer talks only at Brockwood instead of Saanen in the future; and whether to shift it next year or in two years. He wants to discuss it at the International Committees Meeting. Sathaye, the new principal of Rajghat, is here, and he walked with Krishnaji, Scott, and me in a light rain.’

S: To me, the way the canceling of the Saanen talks came about was so typical of Krishnaji. He was concerned about everyone but himself.

M: Yes.

S: He was concerned that people would miss the mountains. He was concerned that it would be too expensive for a lot of people on the continent to go across the English Channel to Brockwood.

M: Yes, the channel, for some reason, crossing the channel was a hazard to some people.

S: Yes, well, I think ever since the Spanish Armada, crossing the English Channel has been a problem for some. [Both chuckle.] Anyway, Krishnaji felt that people might feel that. And he was even worried about the local Saanen and Gstaad village people because it was such a moneymaker for them to have these thousands of people come every summer; and what would they do? So he was concerned about everyone else, even though it was really important for him to cut down his schedule; he was just thinking of everybody else’s welfare rather than his own.

M: Yes. That’s right.

S: And everybody else was saying no, no, Krishnaji. Let’s stop them.

M: Our only leverage was that he had to be well enough to talk.

S: Yes. [Chuckles.]

M: July sixth. ‘Krishnaji slept fairly well. I went to Gstaad for errands and saw Erna and Theo’s apartment. On the way back to Rougemont, I stopped to see Dorothy and Montague, who had arrived in the Land Rover. Sathaye came to lunch with Krishnaji. I went to look at the tent. I walked with Krishnaji and Scott nearby.’

July seventh: ‘I went on an early walk on my own. The weather is fine. I drove Krishnaji to the tent where at 10:30 a.m. he gave his first Saanen talk. The tent is bigger this year and it was full.’ [Both chuckle.] ‘Afterward, it was a quiet lunch with Krishnaji, Vanda, Friedrich, Raman, and me. He slept in the afternoon, and later Krishnaji and I walked along the river by the airfield.’

July eighth: ‘I went on an early walk up the mountain on a beautiful morning, after which I did desk work. Vanda left for Firenze. Dorothy and Montague came with Jane Hammond for lunch. It was a cheerful lunch with Krishnaji telling stories, being charming and warm toward Dorothy. Afterward he, Dorothy, Jane, and I came downstairs to the little sitting room, and Krishnaji said he had something to say to Dorothy. It was his intention to speak to her about her retirement. She has told others she is retiring after the Brockwood Gathering, but she has never told Krishnaji. I knew he was undecided how to raise the subject, and part of the stories and gaiety at lunch were to skitter around that touchy subject. But the how of it came to him downstairs.’ This acknowledged  “retirement,” which she had never mentioned to him.

S: Yes. Dorothy was forever saying to others that she was going to retire and then withdrawing it immediately. So this…

M: …was the first time she admitted it. ‘Krishnaji said to Dorothy that, as she is retiring, we had felt that her sitting room with its new door connecting their bedroom should be furnished with whatever she would like as a present from us. The magic word “retirement” was in the open, said, and passed by in chatter about fixing her sitting room. Dorothy looked pleased. And Jane later said that, in the car going back to Saanen, Dorothy said it was the nicest time with Krishnamurti that she could remember. Krishnaji felt it went well too. Later we walked along the river by the airfield with Erna and Theo.’ [Chuckles.]

The next day. ‘Krishnaji slept very well. I went to Gstaad for another sleeveless cardigan for Krishnaji and some other errands. Friedrich and his son Christoph were at lunch. Jane reports Dorothy is happy at yesterday’s lunch. I met Professor Oscar Beck, an Argentinian and wife at the station, and showed the way to the chalet. Krishnaji gave him an interview. Then Krishnaji and I walked by the river and the airfield.’

July tenth. ‘At 10:30 a.m. Krishnaji gave the second talk. Afterward we had a quiet lunch with no guests. At 4 p.m. he saw Nicos Pilavious, a Greek man who does children’s television shows, and his wife. Then we walked between the river and the airfield. Scott came in the evening. He had spent the day with architect Critchlow and his assistant Peter Gilbert. Krishnaji spoke of dissolving the international committees.’ I don’t remember that.

S: I have notes on that. Essentially, the American Foundation had started several years ago having information centers all over the United States; the KFA had dissolved all of them because they were starting to go their own ways and—

M: They were interpreting, and we had no control over what there were doing and no way—because the country is too big. You can’t go around monitoring what’s happening.

S: Right. And the same problem was happening with the foreign committees. The KFT in England was having the same problem with the foreign committees. In fact, that year there was someone in Holland who had the Dutch mailing list and who was using it to solicit funds to start a school in Holland; but they weren’t handing over the mailing list to the KFT or the official Dutch committee. Krishnaji felt that was very wrong.

M: Well, you’re good on that because I don’t remember that. I mean, it sounds right to me, but I haven’t recorded it in my diaries.

S: Yes. But when Krishnaji brought this up with Mary Cadogan, Mary Cadogan said that the foreign committees do too much valuable work with book translations and distributing books in foreign countries to be dissolved, so—

M: Mary Cadogan, it should be pointed out, was sort of in charge of all those committees.

S: Yes.

M: And England was supposedly the mother ship, the parent organization.

S: Right. Right. And she was running that.

M: And they—yes, she was running that. And they derived the right to do what they were doing from England.

S: Yes. So it was her baby, and she didn’t want this stopped.

M: Yes. That’s right.

July eleventh. ‘Kathy, Scott, Friedrich, Keith Critchlow, and Peter Gilbert came to lunch. At 4 p.m. Krishnaji saw Shrinivas.’ He was a student at Brockwood. ‘We didn’t walk, it was too late. Scott and Mary Cadogan, who arrived today, came after supper, and they talked with Krishnaji, Dr. Parchure joining after a while, and it went on till 10 p.m.’

S: Perhaps I should mention some of the things from my notes that go on in this conversation with Krishnaji, Keith Critchlow, and Peter Gilbert.

M: Yes, do.

S: Krishnaji had a talk with them about the proposed building, which left them really stunned. [Chuckles.] Krishnaji was asking questions like, ‘Will the architecture make people want to dress nicely?’ [Both laugh.] And how the sacredness of what this was all about was supposed to—

M: Yes, the architecture was to promote that.

S: Yes, exactly. “How is the architecture going to foster a sense of the sacred?” And all these things that which left them just…[laughs]. They were enthused by it all; even if they were stunned, they were enthused.

M: Well, particularly Critchlow, because we knew he’d written on sacred architecture, so he was pegged as knowing something about this. [Chuckles.]

S: Yes. And also he knew something about Krishnaji’s teachings and had a gratitude to Krishnaji. According to what he told me, Critchlow learned about Krishnaji’s teachings through his father. When Critchlow’s father was going through a hard time about something, it was the teachings that had really helped him. So Critchlow had a sense of indebtedness to Krishnaji. It was all a happy marriage of things.

M: [chuckles] I don’t know whether it was at this meeting or previous meetings or subsequent meetings when Krishnaji laid out his wishes for the quiet room.

S: Oh, yes. I think it was at this meeting.

M: Because he describes something, um—

S: Yes, we talked about this already. Yes. Nothing above it, beneath it, next to it. Yes. [M laughs.]

M: July twelfth. ‘After an early walk, I went to Gstaad on errands and to pick up Mary Cadogan, who I brought back. Dr. Parchure talked with her, Scott, and me about Indian publishing. Theo and Erna came, and we all lunched. Krishnaji talked at the table till after 4 p.m. about the ancient predictions of the manifestation of Maitreya Bodhisattva. There was only a short rest and we went for a walk at 5:40 by the airfield. Scott came too.’

The next day, ‘I worked at the desk. Nicos Pilavious and his wife came to lunch. Krishnaji quite likes them. They are entertaining. At 4 p.m. Krishnaji saw Count Keyserling, the son of the more famous one, but quite ancient himself.’ [Chuckles.] ‘We walked as usual by the airfield.’ I know the name Count Keyserling, but I can’t remember now anything about him or his father.

The fourteenth. ‘Krishnaji gave his third Saanen talk, after which we had a quiet lunch with no guests. We walked by the river and airfield. Krishnaji had supper in bed, but at 7:30 p.m., KFT trustees came here to discuss the proposed anthology and the copyright problem with India before tomorrow’s meeting. I gave Krishnaji his dinner tray earlier so I could walk over with Hugues, Mary Cadogan, Jane, Scott, and Friedrich to dine at the Hôtel de Commune.’

July fifteenth. ‘All trustees in Saanen of KFT, KFI, and KFA came here for a meeting. There was a discussion of the copyright matters raised by India. Dr. Parchure and Sathaye are the only Indian trustees present. Dr. Parchure did a good job of putting forward KFI’s position. The ultimatum of Pupul’s, i.e., either share the copyright or let India publish what it wants un-vetted on the Western market every three years. There was objection to this. Except for the last book, when apparently Sunanda had help from someone at the Oxford Press who is no longer available, her editing and syntax is not good enough. Krishnaji wonders if only England should edit, a bombshell for India if he puts it to them. Also discussed was the anthology that Weeraperuma has been asked to do by Chetana’—that’s an Indian publisher—‘and looked on with favor by Mary Links. After thinking it over, I am not in favor. Some others were also doubtful. Short excerpts are envisioned on each of Krishnaji’s subjects, so there will be a reducing of his teaching to capsules, a Reader’s Digest approach, making it appear easy for those unwilling to really go into the teaching themselves. Even if they were to be done, I do not think that Weeraperuma is the one to make such choices. The next subject raised by Krishnaji was to move the Saanen talks to Brockwood, i.e., have only one European series and at Brockwood to make less travel for Krishnaji. He suggested we have one more year at Saanen, and then move the talks to Brockwood. The discussion went on until 1:30 p.m. Grohe and son were at lunch. After naps, we met Scott and walked along the river and the airfield. Krishnaji felt very weak on return. He said he wondered, “If my time had come,” but he felt better and normal after eating supper.’

July sixteenth. ‘Dagmar Lichti came at 10 a.m. and discussed Krishnaji’s health with him, Dr. Parchure, and me. She stayed to lunch, and the Lilliefelts were also there. At 3 p.m. the Lilliefelts, Mary Cadogan, Hugues, and Grohe discussed the ownership of the Saanen land and the possibilities of the eventual sale of the land when it was not needed for the talks. Later, Krishnaji and I walked with Scott along the river and the airfield.’

S: Alright, there are some other slight elaborations on this.

M: Tell me.

S: Erna, who was ever-quick about money, put in a claim for half of the proceeds of the Saanen land, because the Saanen land had been bought initially with Rajagopal’s…

M: A gift of $50,000.

S: Right. And because the KFA had inherited the things from Rajagopal…

M: That’s right.

S: …she felt that it was only right that KFA should get half the proceeds of the Saanen land. But Krishnaji wouldn’t have any part of that. He expressed that he was very unhappy with what was happening in America in those days, according to my notes. He felt that his time there wasn’t being well used, that he was there for months and months and no one was finding people for him to talk with, that the school was losing too much money. I actually came to the defense of the school about this and said, Krishnaji, schools lose money. That’s just what they do.

M: Yes, that’s just the nature of them.

S: Right, but he was unhappy with things there. He was unhappy with the administration, which he felt wasn’t good. He was…

M: You know, this summer was the beginning of manifestations of illness in Krishnaji. He was dissatisfied with almost everything.

S: Oh, yes. Yes. But it’s just that Erna brought this up as a real issue, and Krishnaji quashed it, saying no, so these things got expressed. And, at least according to my notes, one of the reasons that Krishnaji was not unhappy with Brockwood—I mean, Brockwood was a mess, but he didn’t feel his time there was wasted because the students were older, and he complained about the students in Ojai being too young for him to talk with, really.

M: Yes.

S: And he was tired of talking with the parents and tired of talking with the staff. One of the things that Brockwood had going for it was all the video equipment, and we had cooked up all kinds of projectS: a videotape series of his talking with students, and others with different well-known person, etcetera. So, in a way, he felt his time was being used…

M: Yes, he did.

S: …but he didn’t feel that in America, and he was unhappy with it. But anyway, just to say that this all came up because of the Saanen land. Also, I’m sure we’ll see in your diaries that there were a series of considerations about whether we just sell the land or whether we should build on it and then sell part; because we could build on it and keep a couple of apartments for ourselves…

M: Yes. That’s right.

S: …to come in the summer. Krishnaji had a notion that a couple people might come—

M: Yes, come on holiday, I think. Yes. I remember that.

S: [chuckles] Anyway, let’s move on.

M: The seventeenth of July. ‘At 10:30 a.m. Krishnaji gave his fourth Saanen talk. It began in a remote voice, which deepened and strengthened as he went to greater depth. It was a special talk.[1] “Self-centeredness is corruption,” he said. It was the pure essential Krishnaji teaching to the world, coming through that fragile, gentle, utterly commanding figure as it has all these many, so many, years. There was a stillness of the audience at the end. And he made a gesture that he would get up and go only when they did. I could scarcely speak going to the car where I was set upon by the happy Fouérés…’ The happy Fouérés were tiresome, to put it euphemistically. [Both chuckle.] They were a French couple, and he wrote all kinds of elaborate things about Krishnaji’s teachings. ‘I was set upon by the happy Fouérés wanting to come to present his newest wretched book. Not then and there, which would have been simple, but at the chalet—their annual demand. Krishnaji was far up the road when I finally caught up to him with the car. After we had passed through Saanen, driving slowly, his head fell on my shoulder in a faint, which has not happened in some years. I kept driving slowly, and he came to within a minute. David and Saral Bohm, who are here for five days, came to lunch. David is going to conferences that seem to be mixtures of science and—what to call it, philosophy? He goes to one with the Dalai Lama next week. There is a rumor, and Krishnaji raised it at lunch, that there is a rift between Krishnaji and David. Erna had heard it from Clayton Carlson.’ Clayton Carlson was the Harper & Row editor that did the Krishnaji books. ‘The conversation was, as ever, between them. I sat and talked a while with them after Krishnaji went for his nap. Saral feels the rumor may come about through Dorothy’s critical talk to various people these past difficult years. Later, we met Scott at the river near the airfield and went for the walk. Krishnaji asked that we walk slowly. Slowness is now something he keeps asking for when I drive. Dr. Parchure gave him some back massage before he went to bed, saying his body is sore to any pressure.’ He was sick, and sickening. That’s why I dread the rest of this.

S: Yes. I know. I know.

M: I don’t really want to finish this.

S: I know. I know, Mary.

M: Anyway.

S: Also on this, in my notes, I have it how often, for years now, Krishnaji would be weak or ill before his talks, but when the talks started, he would somehow get this enormous energy and be tremendously strong. He might collapse afterward, but he would have this tremendous vitality and energy when he talked. And this didn’t happen this year, until this talk, talk four. And I said, and in my notes, that it is noticeable on the videotapes—you can even hear it in the audiotapes. That it’s this talk finally, number four, that he gets that enormous charge, which was late. Also, that I’m giving him the hand and foot massage these days, every evening while Parchure is giving him the full body massage in the morning. But Krishnaji wasn’t well.

M: No, he wasn’t well. He wasn’t well. I really look on the Washington talks as the last blaze of his strength, not the talking, but everything about him. [Pause.]

July eighteenth. ‘Fortunately this had been planned as a day of rest, for in the night Krishnaji took a quarter tablet of Halcion, as a new pill given to him by Dr. Lichti had not put him to sleep. There was a cumulative effect of the two pills, and he was unsteady and weaving. Dr. Parchure had Krishnaji take tea for breakfast, which was enough stimulus to clear the pill effect. At 10 a.m. I went with Gisèle Balleys to a housing agent, Gerax, to look for a chalet for next year. We found quite a nice one, Chalet Bea, near the Park Hotel in Gstaad. Krishnaji had lunch in bed after massage. He is enthusiastic about the effect of tea, which he hasn’t drunk for most of his life. Erna and Theo came in the afternoon to talk about the Oak Grove’s new arrangement for Krishnaji’s entrance and the seating for next year.’

S: This is at the public talks, obviously.

M: Yes. We walked with them plus Scott near Eggli, but it was too sunny for Krishnaji. Dr. Parchure had a long talk with Krishnaji about his regime, reactions, etcetera.’

S: My notes say that this was a walk that Theo had discovered and had thought was good. It was difficult to find walks because these days Krishnaji needed a walk that was level. And, of course, in the mountains, that’s difficult. Secondly, it had to be shady.

M: Yes, shady was always a factor.

S: And thirdly, it has to not have a lot of people around it. And, of course, any time Krishnaji consistently walked someplace, people discovered it, and they would start accumulating there. So Theo had found this walk in the morning, and it was nice and shady. But in the afternoon, [chuckles] the sun had moved and it was in full sun.

M: I remember that. I can see the walk.

July nineteenth. ‘There was the annual general meeting of all the International Committees held again at the Ermitage Hotel in Schönried. Krishnaji asked their opinion on moving the Saanen talks to Brockwood after next year. Then he spoke of Dorothy, her retirement as principal after this year’s talks at Brockwood, and of all she had done. Juan Colell of the Spanish committee rose and thanked Dorothy. And there was strong applause. Then Scott’s appointment was announced. There was a lunch at the hotel, but Krishnaji and I came back to Rougemont for a quiet lunch. In the afternoon after rest, he briefly received the old Spanish couple who each summer bring a gift of a thousand francs, and then the Fouérés, who brought their latest book. We walked with Scott along the river by the airfield. In the evening, separately, both Hugues and Jean-Michel telephoned to say that many committee people at lunch had said why wait another year, why not move the talks to Brockwood next summer. They want to see Krishnaji in the morning about this.’

S: Yes. That’s what finally convinced him—that the committees had said this. But we have to go into more about this announcement of Dorothy’s retirement because it was just remarkable. As you remember, there was always Krishnaji facing this roomful of committee members, and usually he would have a couple people next to him. This year, on one side he had, I think it was, Dorothy right next to him, and then Jane, and then there was a horseshoe effect around and I was several people away, but enough in the curve of the horseshoe so that I could look directly at Krishnaji, Dorothy, and Mary Cadogan, who were flat on facing the committees. Krishnaji started by saying that it was important to announce—and I had no idea this was coming—that Dorothy was retiring and that I was nominated as the next principal. This was the first time Dorothy had ever heard that I had actually been nominated as the next principal. There had been a lot of rumors circulating that Dorothy had been usurped and was being pushed out, and it was important right now to quash that.

M: She said that?

S: No. When Krishnaji started, he began by thanking her and saying how wonderful she had been, etcetera, and everything she’d done, etcetera. Then he talked about these rumors, and, of course, Dorothy had been the one who had been telling a lot of people in the foreign committees these things, and here Krishnaji was saying that there was an orderly transition that he supported. When Krishnaji announced this, and I have it in my notes, Dorothy jumped. She was stunned. And I kept looking at her because I couldn’t look at the audience—I was too…[chuckles].  Krishnaji also said that, back when she had her heart attack, that he had said to her, “If something happens, who would you like to take over?” And she had said, me. At this Dorothy began to respond, and Krishnaji put his hand over on her and just said, “Wait a minute, just wait, just wait, I haven’t finished.” So he stopped her from responding. And he continued. Dorothy had nothing then to say. So this transition was brought about slowly and quietly in one way back at Brockwood, but it was a shock in the sense that it was brought out publicly like that. It was clear that Mary Cadogan had said something to Krishnaji about feeling it was important to announce this and quash these rumors.

M: Yes. I can’t remember—and it isn’t reflected here—any discussions with Dorothy before.

S: No. No. I don’t think there were any. A lot of the people on the foreign committees were about her age and were close to her. They saw her as the one who would let them come and stay at Brockwood, etcetera, etcetera, and she was a heroine to a lot of people. So for her to say that she had been usurped and was being pushed out was something they took seriously. And here was Krishnaji saying it wasn’t so; this was an orderly transition that he backed. I think that was quite difficult for her.

M: Yes. Yes. Yes.

S: It was, yes. Also I mentioned that, before this fourth talk, it was also announced about The Study; that we were going to have a study center, and how important this was. In my notes I also mentioned that in this committee meeting a discussion occurs between Krishnaji and Jean-Michel. I think Jean-Michel was on Krishnaji’s other side because I think he held Jean-Michel’s hand during part of this talk. It was a conversation about what it means to study the teachings, and it was a very good discussion.

M: July twentieth. ‘At 10 a.m. Hugues, Jean-Michel, Mary Cadogan, and Scott came and urged Krishnaji to begin the new program next year, ending Saanen this year and having one European series of talks at Brockwood. Krishnaji listened, and the decision was made. The announcement of it will be made tomorrow in the tent. This means less travel for Krishnaji, less getting used to strange chalets, and one set of talks in a place where he is at home. It also matches the new series in the U.S. and underscores Brockwood Park as the Krishnamurti center. Scott is confident we can figure out the logistics of housing, etcetera. Dagmar Lichti and Grohe came to lunch. She approves medically the new plan and made many other medical suggestions with Parchure. At 4:30 p.m. Mr. Mirabet came for his annual greeting and gift.’ That’s that nice man who once a year came and gave money, which Krishnaji immediately gave to the work…Brockwood, as a rule. ‘We walked by the airfield. Krishnaji wants to leave here sooner than August twelfth. “I will never come back here.” Asit’s visit and Vanda’s return weigh against leaving early, as Asit is somewhere unknown in Europe. We talked about this in the evening with Parchure and about Krishnaji’s highly increased sensitivity. The room he is in bothers him. It is too small, dark, and a “dungeon.”…“I cried the day I saw it,” he said, but he refuses to move upstairs.’ He did eventually move.

July twenty-first. ‘Krishnaji’s fifth and last Saanen talk. It was announced by Mary Cadogan and Hugues that Saanen was ending, but Brockwood talks would continue to be held, and next year they would be from July twentieth to August eighth. The rumor had spread through the morning queue outside the tent, so there seemed no surprise from the huge audience. The actor Richard Gere, whom Mary Cadogan had asked to be invited, came to lunch with a girl, Sylvia Martins, also Scott and Friedrich. Krishnaji talked at the table till almost 4 p.m. The stimulus of a new person seemed to carry him on with little rest. He still wanted to walk and we went by the airfield. We telephoned Vanda about the change to the Saanen talks. She is coming on the seventh or eighth, so we will not leave earlier for Brockwood.’

S: I have it in my notes—and I was quite surprised by this—Krishnaji had spoken about the story that the pandit had told to really very few people.

M: Yes.

S: And he talked to Richard Gere about it, which I was quite surprised by.

M: Well, Richard Gere became—

S: Oh, he was very interested in Tibetan Buddhism.

M: He was about to go from Saanen to the Dalai Lama somewhere. And he continues to have something to do with the Dalai Lama because I get things from that committee that he organized. I’ve given money to it for Tibet. He’s not featured so much anymore, but he got that thing going.

S: Yes, but I was surprised that Krishnaji talked with him about that. And also that Krishnaji talked with him about creativity, which Richard Gere, you know, has some claim to knowing something about. But, of course, Krishnaji was knocking an artistic notion of creativity in favor of something much more profound. And Richard Gere listened and was attentive, which I thought that was really quite good of Richard Gere, actually. The girl, on the other hand, was just ridiculous. [Both chuckle.]

M: Yes.

July twenty-second. ‘Krishnaji was tired, so rather disturbed. Clearly the small  “dungeon” room is oppressing him. I got Parchure to help persuade him to move into the other flat upstairs where he would have light, a balcony, and a view of the great gray granite look of the mountain that rises above Rougemont. He agreed to move, so he and I are now in the upstairs flat and much more comfortable. Parchure and Raman are down in Grohe’s one. While I worked on the over 100 written questions handed in for the three question-and-answer sessions, Krishnaji talked urgently to Parchure about India. His voice was agitated. It sounded almost crying. He eventually called me in. He said that in India, he trusts Sathaye, Upasani, Maheshji, but not Hiralal. He mentioned Rishi Valley, Radhika “probably,” Mrs. Thomas, and Narayan. But at Vasanta Vihar he doesn’t trust the three Patwardhans.’ He turned against the Patwardhans very strongly.

S: Yes. Yes.

M: In a lot of his letters to me on his next trip to India, he was very critical.

S: Yes. Well, they were in many ways quite terrible.

M: Yes. ‘He spoke of future schedules in India being one year at Rajghat and Bombay, alternate years Rishi Valley and Madras. I said it is not healthy to be in Bombay. “Oh, we would only go there for talks. Two weeks.”’ That was his reply. ‘I asked if he planned to cut the total time in India. “No.” I asked did he then want to spend three months in Rajghat? He recoiled and said, “I couldn’t do that.”’ [S chuckles.] ‘Then as he talked it developed that travel is too tiring, but he cannot stay too long in one place.’ See, there were all these conflicts in his needs.

S: Yes.

M: ‘He has become hypersensitive. He feels people are impinging upon him, focused on him. If he stays in a place too long, there is a pressure he cannot stand now, and he must talk or the energy will go out of him as he is here to talk. If not, he will weaken and end. “It wants to disappear,” and he needs someone to challenge him. Bohm used to do it and it made Krishnaji go deeper, but Bohm can’t now. Pupul can’t. No one can. No one we know. It is what he needs. The paradox of his needing rest and needing not to let down is the dilemma. The new program of Brockwood as the only European talks, means he will be there for months. And finding a place to take him away from people’s focus will be a puzzle, his physical needs and hypersensitivity increasing as they are. He talked at length, trying to find answers himself. I am learning not to say anything but let him talk in his present way, which is too often to state things well known, as if he were laying a groundwork of a known in order to come upon the new. The present situation, what is now has to be sorted out from what has been. Finally, at almost 1 p.m., he went for a quick bath. With Parchure and Raman, I began moving our things up. By 4 p.m. Krishnaji’s room, sunny and in order, was ready, and he lay down. But then arrived one Hugo Brewster, a Canadian friend of Paola and John Cohen, and Krishnaji talked to him. He walked with Scott while I sorted questions for tomorrow. By now, tonight, we are settled in the upper rooms, and I think it is better. We’ll see in the morning if he thinks so, but he stood a long time on the balcony looking at the mountains. That seemed to do him good.’

The twenty-third of July. ‘Krishnaji slept well in his new room. It is an improvement. At 10:30 a.m. he held the first question-and-answer meeting in the tent and answered three questions in great depth. Then there was a quiet lunch. A letter of invitation came from Mr. and Mrs. Nicos Pilavious, the Greek couple whom he saw and who came to lunch here. It suggests visiting them in June on a Greek island and appeals to Krishnaji. Then we talked about it, looking up the island in the atlas. It is fun to think of it, but is there any shade on a Greek island?’ [S chuckles.] ‘At 5:30 p.m. we went back to our very dear and lovely Tannegg walk, where Scott’s video crew lay in wait to videotape him walking on this favorite Gstaad walk. I spoke on the phone to Cohen, who says a draft of a settlement seems all right and is being sent to me.’

July twenty-fourth. ‘Krishnaji held the second question-and-answer session in the tent. Krishnaji now says we should vacation here next year. At lunch there were Erna, Theo, Friedrich, Scott, and a friend of Paolo’s, Hugh Brewster, a young Canadian publisher. Again a new person seemed to stimulate Krishnaji to talk, tell stories, and be serious too. At 4 p.m. he saw a Honduran boy, “Rivera,” who begged him outside the tent for a brief word. Sathaye and Scott came on the Tannegg walk.’

July twenty-fifth. ‘Krishnaji held the third question-and-answer meeting and the last ever of the Gatherings in Saanen. There was no goodbye, just a profound silence as he sat for a few moments and then asked, “May I leave?” I couldn’t speak in the car, and we drove slowly.’ [Crying.] It makes me cry to remember this.

S: Yes. Yes. Yes.

M: ‘We drove slowly as he wants to now.

Click below to listen to Mary speak.

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At 1 p.m. Krishnaji, Kathy, Scott, Raman, and I went to the Bon Accueil restaurant in Chateau d’Oex. Not too good. Sathaye walked with us in the Tannegg wood. Later I gave a dinner for Dorothy, Mary Cadogan, and the Lilliefelts at Restaurant Chesery in Gstaad.’ Do you remember that nice restaurant?

S: Yes, of course.

M: ‘It was a good dinner and cheerful, even though Mary and I were able to tell Dorothy that the Dutch are quoting her as saying twenty-five people have been sent away from Brockwood in the last year and new people don’t care about the teachings.’ How did we ever mention that to her?

July twenty-sixth. ‘There was a long talk with Krishnaji in the morning about all the foundations. “It is watching,” he said. He speaks as if that something is deciding what happens to him. “It” will decide when his work is done and hence, by implication, his life. He is disturbed by the divisions in the Indian foundation and their suspicion of the two Western foundations. He is disturbed generally by everything. The de Maurexes, Jean and Catherine, and Grohe came to lunch. Jean and Hugues are handling what we do with the Saanen land. Krishnaji likes de Maurex, has confidence in him. He liked his neat demeanor. Krishnaji talk to Stephen at 4 p.m. He didn’t feel like walking but talked to me about KFA. Only the Lilliefelts and I are there, he said.

S: Meaning you and the Lilliefelts were the only active trustees living in Ojai?

M: That was true.

S: I had introduced the de Maurexes to Krishnaji, and one of the reasons that I knew that Krishnaji would approve of them—

M: Because he was neat?

S: He’s very neat. And they’re very well mannered, and they’re very nice people. But the

clincher was that they had a brand-new Mercedes.

M: Oh, I was not aware of this salient fact. [Both chuckle.] Oh my, you concealed it from me.

The twenty-seventh of July: ‘At 9:30 a.m. Erna and Theo came and talked most of the morning with Krishnaji and me. They stayed to lunch, and Topazia came. We packed things to go to Brockwood in the van. Hugues and Suzanne came by to say goodbye. Krishnaji talked in the late afternoon with Sathaye instead of going for a walk.’

The next day. ‘Mary Cadogan and Gisèle Balleys came about Saanen Gathering matters. Mary stayed to talk to Krishnaji and me about her plans. Sathaye was at lunch. I went to look at rooms in a Rougemont Hotel for next summer’s vacation. Krishnaji, Sathaye, and I went to walk near Tannegg. Krishnaji said to me, “You are responsible for Ojai more than the other two.”’

The twenty-ninth. ‘I drove Dr. Parchure to Gstaad to get various things for Krishnaji then went to the bank with donations. Krishnaji, Sathaye, Parchure, and I lunched at the Hotel Caprice in Rougemont, and I saw rooms we could have for next summer’s holiday. Krishnaji liked the place and said to settle it. It was cheerful. Krishnaji gave an interview to a Mr. Elkabir. Krishnaji rested instead of walking. The Lilliefelts left for Ojai.’

The thirtieth. ‘Harsh came to see Krishnaji. I went to Gstaad on errands. Sathaye and Friedrich were at lunch. Renée Weber came to see Krishnaji about a book she is doing and was with Krishnaji for two hours. Sathaye leaves tomorrow for India.’

July thirty-first. ‘Rain. Krishnaji talked at length with Claire and Harsh before they left for England. I changed the Opel at Hertz for a Volkswagen Golf and went to Gstaad on errands. In the afternoon, Krishnaji saw Gisèle Balleys at 4 p.m. and Jackie Siddoo at 4:30 p.m. He talked intently at lunch and after supper with Parchure, Raman, and me about how to bring about a religious center.’

The first of August. ‘I worked at the desk all morning. Friedrich and his son, Christoph, came to lunch. At 4:30 p.m., Krishnaji saw Rupert Oysler and his wife. Scott rang from Brockwood Park. He said that we won unanimous approval from the county council to build The Study at the hearing today.’

There is very little the next day.

August third. ‘I worked at my desk in the morning. Friedrich and his son Christoph came to lunch. Erna telephoned from Ojai saying that she has seen Cohen and is sending the text of an agreement. There was the Tannegg walk with Krishnaji. He asked me,  “What would you do if you were responsible for Vasanta Vihar?”…“There is no religious center.”…“Either I take charge or leave the whole thing.” He upbraided Dr. Parchure and others in Rajghat for not objecting to Pupul about Hiralal.’ You see, he was irritable.

S: Yes, but Hiralal was not a good person.

M: No, he wasn’t.

S: He was Pupul’s flunky and Pupul put him in, and other people should have objected, but they didn’t because Pupul was a bully.

M: Pupul was…yes. ‘We rang Scott about the name of The Study changing it to The Krishnamurti Teaching Center.

S: At this point I was in Monte Carlo.

M: You were?

S: Yes. I can remember this conversation clearly. [Both chuckle.]

M: What were you doing there?

S: Kathy and I were there vacationing, staying at the de Maurexes’ flat. I remember having that and, I think, another conversation in which Krishnaji had new ideas of what we should call The Study Center. [Chuckles.]

M: And then it says, ‘Tankha situation.’ I don’t know what that is.

S: That was Harsh Tanka and his wife Claire.

M: Ah, yes, their marriage. I do remember. Tankha, I thought of a tangka on the wall.

S: Yes, no [chuckles]…no such luck. [Both chuckle.]

M: There isn’t anything of significance the next day, but on August fifth, ‘I walked down to the post office and, after showing my passport, was given an express envelope from Erna of the latest draft of the settlement agreement with the Rajagopal case. It was felt to be acceptable by Stanley Cohen and the Lilliefelts. I read it to Krishnaji. We both objected to the word “amicable” describing the settlement. Rajagopal wants a statement on the settlement printed in the Bulletins, but we have pared down the language. I was uneasy about the language defining Rajagopal’s restrictions on publishing and/or letting others publish Krishnaji writings in his, Rajagopal’s, possession. I telephoned Erna later at 6 p.m., who sounded tired, and she suggested I speak directly to Cohen. I did ring, but he was out. I will ring tomorrow. I also telephoned Vanda, who will come on Friday.’ This is written on Monday. ‘At 11:30 a.m., Catherine and Jean de Maurex came in their Mercedes 190, of interest to Krishnaji, and drove us to an old-fashioned hotel up the mountain behind Vevey, a place where the old, infirm, and rich go for health somethings. Fossils are in the dining room, and a very long ordered-in-advance lunch. But the view from the restaurant was nice, and Krishnaji seemed to like the de Maurexes. He drove expertly, which Krishnaji observed, and so did not become nervous when going faster than he prefers these days. Catherine and Jean also put “serious” questions to Krishnaji at lunch, which he fielded. We came back via Aigle and the Col du Pillon. Rain began by the time we got back. In the evening, Krishnaji said that I should write a book, “even if only a hundred pages, about what it is like being with him, and what he said.” And then he said, “I will teach you meditation before I go to India when you have a completely controlled body.”’ [Both chuckle.] He was irritated by gestures, and I use my hands when I talk and that annoyed him. [S chuckles.]

S: Okay. We have to end it there.

M: Okay.

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[1] For the video of the talk of July seventeenth, 1985. Back to text.