journal d'une transition

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atmosphere and I cannot see anybody around, although we must have passed many people; I am completely into his presence, into the joy of it… He is, now, a man of thirty-five or so, that is, a young but ripe man, a kind of permanent age… He is totally himself, with his own charm and beauty, discreet, firm and whole. He is, it seems, totally human and yet, within that bare simplicity, one knows immediately that it is all cleared, all one, all whole, with NO possibility of relapse, of corruption, of mixture… It is there immediate, simple, extremely close and friendly, yet absolutely itself, and clear; full of energy, humble, joyful, and sure, sure, conscious of That: no ego, and yet an individual instrument, conscious… I can’t help hugging him, kissing and embracing him, laughing and crying at the same time, because of that pain he’s been through; and he answers me, like a man cleansed by a potent waterfall, that this pain has been One pain all along, his share One process all along, One offering, One necessity all along… And he says that so quietly, from such a depth of commitment, simplicity and sincerity… and with that calm tenderness and brotherliness of his… Then the experience takes on a slightly different character… We go into an apartment, with several rooms; I am not very happy about the place; it is not clean enough, nor is there the sort of harmony I would have endeavoured to make ready for him… But I find that, besides F.Ga, there is also Subir, and that, somehow, they are on a ready, tacit agreement with Nolini about it all, on how it can and must be for the time being, given certain conditions of which I am not aware… In effect I seem to have happened to be there, almost as if by accident, or due to some sort of different determinism which, in Nolini himself, felt normal and at its place but, otherwise, feels a little dissociated… Later there is a moment when Subir comments on my not knowing how to do certain basic things that they know, not knowing how to pray… He says this with his usual humorous and lazy drawl, referring to a gesture of bending back one’s fingers with a certain rhythm and pace, a sort of mantric prayer, or mudra… I have an impulse to react and stand away, but I surrender some resistance and let Subir hold my hands while telling him “yes, I know nothing at all, let me learn now…!” and we smile and it is kind of alright… More than anything else, what struck me is the experience of the contact, of the psychic presence, in this change: that is unmistakable, inimitable… And that it is really Nolini. Himself. Changed, or having discarded the unnecessary. Psychically manifest. Ready to work, enthusiastic, down-to-earth, friendly, and wanting to hasten the pace, ready to see to the task, with a pure vigour… And, to some extent, there was a relation to Auroville… Nolini was his own…: essentially a brother, but alone, at the service of That, whole, free and happy… … Ce soir, Barbara et moi sommes allés rendre visite à Deepti et Arjun ; Deepti est assez malade depuis quelques jours, mais elle est toujours habitée par cette belle rivière, droite et claire, perceptive et constante, et courageuse… Elle nous a raconté sa propre expérience de ce nouveau groupe, l’ « Executive Council », qui correspond tout à fait à ce que j’ai pu sentir à distance… C’est beau de la voir avancer, gardant son orientation, à Ton service, honnêtement, et malgré toutes les oppositions… *28-2-1984, Auroville: A lot of my dream-activities in Russia, or with Russians – their faces, their warmth, and their eyes – moved me deeply… … Les enfants ont allumé le Feu à 5 heures 30; on a écouté la Charte lue par Toi, puis la musique d’Igor : une belle suggestion d’ampleur et de force, agréable… Un