"Holy Cow" is the title of a book from Australian writer Sarah Macdonald.
And "India my love" would be the title of my book if I would write one about my experiences in India.

I enjoy very much reading about my dear country where I spent so many years hardly outside the gate of Osho Commune International, although I didn't like her style of writing, the cynicism about herself, about the land that hosted her and about the Indian people.
I was never really backpacking through India, however, I visited quite few beautiful places especially Himachal Pradesh and Utter Pradesh, Gangotri, Rishikesh, Dharamsala, McLeod Gunj, and of course Goa, being just one night bus ride away from mad Poona. Goa was for us sannaysin the holiday resort from our "spiritual life" in the Ashram. Moreover I can say that my focus of search was definitely more "the inside". That is why I feel so good in the mountains, whether they are the Himalayan stunning height or the sensuous beauty of the Maddalene mountain in my valley in Italy. You are left alone when you go inside yourself, and you are alone when you climb the mountain top.

Sarah has all along a bitter taste and incredible alienating sense of doubts and utter dryness. She makes one step forward in the discovery of her inner world and two backwards, exchanging faith and trust with anger and resentment and back to doubt. But yet again, how to define success or failure in the journey to oneself?
By the way, is this the Australian way? Then I am glad I don't live there.
They may have incredible space in the vastness of their country, as she often describes it in her book but I guess even there you can lose your way, inside and outside.

However she has a sense of humor or in fact sarcasm that brings some lightness to the "all too serious spiritual seeker" if only they would read her book. Amongst the many adventures to find some peace of heart, she describes with utter nudity the intense agony of a mind that doesn't want to give up control in every sense and its constant judgements.
But after all who am I to criticise her experience, I fought already enough, against all of the New Age bullshit, and the self declared "only path to God", like the Miracle of Love cult, that I am left with a good belly laughter and a deep sense of being rooted in myself and my own belief. I can take another way of rebellion too!!

There is another book on the subject that touched truly my heart. The author Tiziano Terzani (Tuscany 1938-2004) an Italian journalist and writer tells in his book "Un Altro Giro Di Giostra" his experience around the world and especially in India, in search for a cure of the tumor that effects him.
Instead he finds himself.
He ends up in Himalayan writing it all down in one of the most compelling book about life, death, spiritual journey and acceptance of ones mortality, with no drama and no misery. About him I would like to write more another time. The way he describes his adventure in India would be close to my way. Maybe because he was Italian, maybe because I love Tuscany too, but his depths mixed in with an healthy and familiar sense of humor brought a smile and tears to my heart. Also I believe too, to quote him: Peace need to be found inside.

India my love

Below you can see a picture of me and my darling aja, my cleaning lady, Mary in the garden of my house in Poona. She spent many hours the 31 of December 1988 braiding my hair for the N.Y.party, drinking chai together and chatting about womens matter. How much I loved her to be just the way she was, so very Indian and a catholic one too.

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