Origins Odyssey Travel Diary #7: India-Sri Lanka.

(Prequel
1: 1992)
Posted on February 10, 2016 by Phillip Lindsay
 Dancing Ganesha

Introduction: The Hidden History of Humanity Project

India 1992: Travel Diary “Prequel #1”.
Funding the HHH Project

Introduction: The Hidden History of Humanity Project

It’s been three and a half years since my last report in 2012. A lot has happened during
that time, seeing me in Australia for about eighteen months, Cambodia and Thailand
for nine months, Britain for six months and Italy for the past year. As there are now
many more readers than several years ago, it might be appropriate to re-state the
reason for these Travel Diaries. My interest in Esoteric History was first piqued in 1994
by this statement:

“As it is necessary to know the moment of birth and the place of birth in casting the
horoscope of the individual, so in order to have a perfectly correct understanding and
accurate deductions in connection with the constellation, the planets and our Earth
there should be a fixed time from which to reckon. That fixed time is as yet unknown …
There has to be a constant rectification of the earlier conclusions of humanity and of
this the outstanding instance is the statement in the Bible that the prime date of
creation is 4004 B.C. This is recognised as an error by modern science but is still
believed by many …
 I earlier gave a hint upon which definite astrological
computation could be based when I gave the time of the
“Great Approach” of the Hierarchy to our planetary
manifestation when individualisation took place and the
fourth [human] kingdom in nature appeared. I placed
that stupendous event as happening 21,688,345 years
1
ago.”

This statement is corroborated by many passages in The

Secret Doctrine by H. P. Blavatsky – and collated in
various timelines in my book, The Hidden History of
Humanity (HHH). (Currently being re-written.) This
individualisation process (the implanting of the “spark of
Bayon, Cambodia. (Author’s mind”) occurred in ancient Lemuria, the civilisation that
pic 2006.)
existed before (and during) the following civilisation of
Atlantis.

Therefore, Esoteric History is in essence the history of the human soul, tracing the
evolution of consciousness throughout the rootraces, to our present Fifth Rootrace. One
of the key elements in this project has been to reconcile the enormous time scales with
miniscule modern day theories – to which 99% of modern science subscribes.

In HHH, the author has demonstrated through various

time markers and dates given in the Ageless Wisdom –
and through the ancient science of cycles in the Hindu
Yugas, that the esoteric time scales are literal and not
just symbolic, as even some Hindu scholars themselves
contend, tainted as they have been from Western
materialistic, linear thought.

Likewise, the great investigations completed by many

“new age archaeologists” do themselves no justice
because of their conformity to the status quo on time-
cycles, never ranging beyond the last 25,000 year
The author at Nazca, Peru.
precession cycle. (For my definitive essay on this theme, 2009.
see TIME & HISTORY: Re-Establishing Esoteric
Chronology in World History)

The other key factor for the HHH project has been to visit the many sites worldwide
that hold the lingering remnants and ruins of these ancient civilisations; to discern and
discriminate one civilisation from another, one layer from another layer, one subrace or
branchrace from another, and so forth.

Visiting these places has been very rewarding (even though a massive labour at
times!), because being physically present has brought much intuitive understanding
that would never have occurred sitting at a computer thousands of miles away, viewing
images of others’ travels. Hence, allowing these places to speak whilst in their presence
has yielded an understanding that has fleshed out the overall structure given in the
Ageless Wisdom teachings.

This structure, whilst deeply resonant at an intuitive level, still cries out for concrete
validation, in this age of the Fifth Rootrace where the development of the concrete
 mind has reached its acme and is the reason why
mainstream science currently dominates. Hence the
author is always seeking ways to bridge to scientific
academia: Through the various dating methods given
for rocks, suggesting alternatives to the theory of
continental drift, the migration of peoples, the flora
and fauna clues that link various continents and the
fact that humans were gigantic, like the reptile
kingdom in ancient days.

So far my travels to these “strewn ruins” (one of my

favorite expressions), have taken me in the past five
years through Britain, Scandinavia, Greece and
Crete, Italy, Peru, Bolivia, Costa Rica and Cambodia.
I have just completed my latest travels in Italy
Stepped pyramid. (Author’s pic
2006.) recently (see my Facebook Hidden History of
Humanity page) – and plan visits to other areas of
the Mediterranean and Morocco in the next year or
two.

In attempting to bring these travel diaries up to date, I realised that a few other
important trips need to be included – India and Egypt particularly. I plan to release
several travel diaries in the next few months, to catch up with the past, putting the
present and future into better context. I have called these older sojourns “prequels”.
There will be one each for India and Egypt, followed by another one or two for Bolivia,
Peru, Cambodia and Italy bringing them all up to date.

India-Sri Lanka-Brunei 1992:

Travel Diary “Prequel #1”.

Brunei Darussalam (Abode of

Peace)
1992-3 was my first big overseas
trip, spending six months touring
around Sri Lanka and India and then
later Britain for a year. But before
that I visited my place of birth in
Brunei on the island of Borneo.
Kampong Ayer Water Village: Poverty in the shadow Perhaps being born here hinted at
of opulence.
the fact that I might be a perpetual
traveler in the future – exploring the
past!

I had not been to Brunei since four years old, after my parents returned to Australia. I
spent a few brief days in Brunei town having a look around. I checked out the Sultan of
Brunei’s palace with its solid gold dome; he is reputedly the world’s richest man – from
petroleum revenues. The palace is in stark contrast to the water village nearby. I
visited my birth place at the Shell Oil hospital and our old house that had been
converted to offices for the Bureau of Narcotics! (Neptune rules drugs, water and oil
and I have a Sun-Neptune conjunction in Libra!)
Then I headed north to Mount Kinabalu (“revered place
of ancestors”) in the northern state of Sabah. It is the
highest mountain in south-east Asia, over 13,000 ft. or
4,000 metres. (In 2015 there was a strong earthquake
and 18 people were killed in subsequent landslides.) I
made the climb up in two stages, one afternoon for
several hours, then slept in a hut at 10,000 ft. We were
woken up at 3 am to make the final trek to the summit
for sunrise.

It was grueling as I was not used to the thin air and not
that fit either! A sign at the base of the mountain reads
that the record for the annual footrace to the summit
and back down is 2 hours 45 minutes! It must have
taken me around 17 hours of actual walking time up
and down, stopping many times, gasping for air. We The summit of Kinabalu in
made the summit but no sunrise due to cloud; then sight! (Author’s pic.)
came the hard part, the descent.

The track on the mountain is composed of large stairs, some of them knee high and
there are thousands of them. So descending was a tricky task, taking a lot of
concentration to place the feet rightly so not to twist the knee or ankle. Even for a tall
person like myself, it was a challenge. After a few hours I had run out of chocolate bars
and water and was still only half way down the mountain.

I had run out of energy and was

A smile of relief! (Author’s pic.)
letting my legs recover!
running on will power at this stage.
Some other climbers coming up the
path gave me some energy bars but
it did not help much. I had lactic acid
in my muscles and my legs were
cramping up. I finally made it back to
the park headquarters and hobbled
across to the restaurant for a big
feed. I felt like I had a muscle
meltdown! Then I limped onto the
bus and back to Kinabalu where I lay
on my hotel bed for a couple of days

Mountains are ruled by Capricorn and my next destination India is also ruled by
Capricorn. So Kinabalu was a taste of what was to come, literally and metaphorically.
Capricorn is also the placement of the Sun in my “conception horoscope”, speculated to
be related to one’s “soul chart”.

Indo-nesia once
constituted Greater
India, which
stretched from
Vietnam in the east
Panorama from Kinabalu summit.
to Iran in the west,
deep into the ancient
Tamil Nadu south of Sri Lanka (now sunken) – and to places like Bali, almost entirely
Hindu, unique in Islamic Indonesia.

Sri Lanka
But first I traveled to Sri Lanka, spending four weeks. It
was a good warm-up for India, I arrived in Columbo late
at 1 am Sunday morning. There was alot of activity on
the street and I had to run the gauntlet of touts and taxi
drivers, heading to my hotel of choice from my Lonely
Planet guide book, only to find out that it had recently
burnt to the ground!

So I spent the next few hours in a fruitless search for

other hotels, with drunken tuk-tuk drivers giving me the
run around all over the city. (Must have been some
Downtown Kandy. (Author’s cabbie karma there!) Finally I settled for the Hilton at 4
pic.) am exhausted, just to get a good night’s sleep, blowing
one month’s budget for one night, only to find the local
hostel just around the corner the next day. Murphy’s Law was in operation!

Buddha at the Temple of the Moon, Anuradhapura. (Author’s pic. All photos on this trip were taken on
Fujifilm Velvia film with Olympus OM1n camera.)

There were several hair-raising bus rides in Sri Lanka, over steep and narrow mountain
passes. Looking out the bus window, I could not see any road, just a 2,000 ft steep
practically vertical drop – and a few upside-down, crashed and rusty buses littering the
slopes below.

There were some magic moments in Kandy, the spiritual Buddhist capital of Sri Lanka. I
visited Anuradhapura toward the north, one of the ancient capitals of Sri Lanka, famous
for its well-preserved ruins of ancient Sri Lankan civilization. (See Buddha pic above.)
 Lion Rock at Sigiriya
was also a
highlight. There
were many other
places that I
visited, elusive to
my memory now.
But one memorable
place was Nuwara
Lake Kandy, a magical place with Eliya, about 2,000
mischievous spirits! metres in altitude,
amongst tea
plantations. One of the frescoes at
Lion Rock, similar to the
caves of Ajanta.
My Lonely Planet guide told me that the woman who ran the (Author’s pic.)
guesthouse I had chosen, was a national scrabble champion.
From that moment, I knew that we would be engaged in
combat! No sooner had I arrived and slung my swag in a room, we cracked open the
scrabble board and had one of the most amazing games I had ever played, including
getting a 50-point bonus for using all seven letters. She also had some amazing scores,
but at the end I pipped her at the post by a few points – she was not impressed!

The area is also famous for one of five botanical

gardens in Sri Lanka – Hakgala Botanical Garden. I
arrived early one morning and had one of the most
satisfying photographic meditations of my entire trip.

I also visited a Theosophical Lodge (In Badulla I

Lion Rock reaches 200 metres out
of the jungle and has the ruins of
an ancient palace on top.
conflicts: Theravada Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity and Islam.
think) that had been established due to the efforts of
Theosophy’s co-founder, Henry Steel Olcott. He was
a major revivalist of Buddhism and has been called
by Sri Lankans, “one of the heroes in the struggle of
our independence and a pioneer of the present
religious, national and cultural revival”. Sri Lanka is
unique for four religions co-existing but with ongoing

Sri Lanka is also the home of the famous Hindu epic poem, The Ramayana. In esoteric
history it is regarded as an actual event that occurred over a million years ago, similar
to the other epic poem The Mahabharata that occurred even further back in time. The
Ramayana is an allegorised account of the conflict between the Atlanteans (4th
rootrace) and the early Hindu Aryans (5th rootrace):

“… the great struggle between the “Sons of God” and the Sons of the Dark Wisdom—
our forefathers; or the Atlantean and the Aryan Adepts … the mystic narrative in epic
form of the struggle between Rama—the first king of the divine dynasty of the early
Aryans—and Ravana, the symbolical personation of the Atlantean (Lanka) race.

The former were the incarnations of the Solar Gods; the latter, of the lunar Devas. This
was the great battle between Good and Evil, between white and black magic, for the
supremacy of the divine forces, or of the lower terrestrial, or cosmic powers.”2
Readers may have heard of Hanuman, the monkey
god, the general of Rama’s army, the son of Vayu,
god of the wind, of a virtuous she-demon. Hanuman
was the faithful ally of Rama and through his
audacity and wit, helped the Avatar of Vishnu to
finally conquer the demon-king of Lanka, Ravana,
who had carried off the beautiful Sita. Sri Lanka is
also an ancient remnant of the continent of Lemuria,
the rootrace that preceded Atlantis. The monkey
symbolism alludes to a deep mystery of events that
occurred just after Individualisation – where humans
erred against evolutionary law, breeding with
animals, whose descendants are our modern apes.

“The Path of Light”. Hakgala

Botanical Gardens. The author used
this on the cover of The Hidden
History of Humanity .

India
India’s motto: “I hide the India is one of the oldest civilisations on the planet and
light”. is esoterically regarded as the Mother of all modern
Western nations. Most religions and languages can be
traced back to ancient India. Christianity for instance, is simply repackaged Hinduism,
as any student of comparative religion will tell you. India’s spiritual motto is “I hide the
Light” – she is like the alpha and omega, the beginning and eventually the end:

“India hides the light, and that light, when released upon the world and revealed to
humanity, will bring about harmony in the form aspect, for things will be clearly seen
3
as they are and freed from glamour and illusion.”

India was a very tough trip, as many who have visited will tell you. Hence the acronym
for I.N.D.I.A. – “I’ll never do India again”! Transiting Saturn in Aquarius was opposite
my natal Pluto in Leo, whilst transiting Pluto and progressed Sun in Scorpio were
square my natal Pluto. Intense would be an understatement! Pluto is the ruler of the
first ray of will or power and India is a first ray soul. Pluto is therefore Shiva or Kali –
the Destroyer.

India will break you down and strip you bare. No matter how many “India stories” you
hear or read about, none of them really prepare you for the assault on the senses –
sights, sounds and smells of this extraordinary ancient continent. (Unless you just fly in
to some yoga sanctuary and swan about in white robes for three weeks and are
relatively cocooned from the rest of the country.) In 1992-3, I back-packed around
India before the days of laptops, CD’s and smartphones, with a lot of books and camera
equipment on board. At times my pack must have weighed about 25-30 kilograms.

One loses things in India. I had collected alot of Bansuri flutes, many of which were lost
by the end of the trip. Unfortunately alot of color film slides were lost too, India
jealously reclaimed them. By the time I arrived in Britain in 1993 I had also lost about
30 lbs (13 kilos) and proceeded to put
my weight back by dining in Indian
restaurants in London, far better than
anything I had come across in India!

It was appropriate that my original

“HHH” travels began here because India
is regarded esoterically as the “cradle of
the Fifth Rootrace”, the genesis of all
Western races. India is the first subrace
of this Fifth Rootrace and embodies the
synthesis of East and West.
Rajendra Prasanna.

Subrace Group Years ago

5.1 Hindu 1,050,000

5.2 Ancient Egyptian/Mayan 860,000

5.3 Semitic-Arabic-Afghan 610,000

5.4 Celtic-Latin 450,000

5.5 Teutonic-Nordic-Anglo-Saxon 100,000

5.6 Synthesis of all subraces Next 25,000

(For more details about these stupendous timelines, see here.)

India was certainly beckoning me back “home” through a deep personal affinity that
probably reflects some significant past incarnations. I have always had strong
resonance with Hindu philosophy and its traditions, especially through sources such as
Blavatsky’s The Secret Doctrine – and The Mahabharata which contains at its heart the
Bhagavad-Gita.

Obviously I cannot report on all the events, it could fill a book, but some highlights are
worth relating. Impressions are always subjective of course and one person’s India is
not necessarily another’s. I hope not to distort India either, with clichés or stereotypes,
especially for my Hindu friends or Indo-philes, but sometimes it is simply unavoidable.
Like China, India is going through an enormous revolution at the moment and it is a
pity that many Indians are rejecting their spiritual heritage. Though one cannot blame
them either, so crystallised have many traditions become, stifling the spiritual life and
creativity.

My trip began in Chennai (formerly Madras) and the first week there was my initiation
into India. From the first moment that the airport shuttle dumped me six blocks from
my hotel (thankyou!), walking through sidewalks packed with families who lived there;
children and babies, naked and filthy, lying on the pavement whilst inches away, big
diesel TATA trucks belching black smoke, thundered past all day. No wonder, when
scouting around for a cup of tea at 6 am the next day (impossible in India, as I was
going to find out), seeing these people starting to arise, they all looked so bleary-eyed
and weary with a pollution hangover from the previous day.
 I was also confronted by hordes of these
children spotting me the Westerner,
approaching with one hand out for money,
while the other hand pointed to their mouths
to feed. All tourists experience this and it is
hard not to give, and encourage begging when
their plight is so obvious. In fact beggars tend
to dog tourists all over India as we are so
obviously “rich” Westerners. However, there
Homeless women and their children. are many begging scams and, “they have
many different methods of pulling at your
heart strings in an attempt to get money”. (See this article.)

Of course this was just one part of Chennai, but is not untypical of many cities in India.
The first trip to the bank and post office that week was another part of my initiation
into India. With a fourth ray personality, India is not that orderly (indeed, chaotic!), at
least for the Anglo-Saxon mind that expects or demands order; very ironic given the
imposition of the British Raj for hundreds of years! Part of the legacy that the British
left was an unwieldy bureaucracy but the best part of their influence bringing
democracy to India, previously governed by the Mughal Emperors, who were
essentially dictators:

“Britain also introduced a modern, Western-style infrastructure to all aspects and levels
of Indian affairs, which was far more efficient and sophisticated than the creaky,
monolithic systems of the Mughal period. Administration improved at all levels of
society. The British legal system was an improvement on what had gone before, as was
the military infrastructure and health care system. Britain also provided India with
4
modern technology, such as the railway network, electricity and, later, air transport.”

Back in the 1990’s (things may have changed since), there was no such thing as a
queue at the post office. Customers simply milled around the counter. The clerk behind
the counter would start serving one person then another would push in and so the clerk
would start serving him, until he was serving half a dozen people simultaneously.
Seeing the situation, and determined to complete my postage mission, I gradually
worked my way to the front, then stuck my elbows out until he had finished doing my
business.

I can still recall the sounds of frustrated British tourists

demanding that the locals form a queue, some order
please! No such luck! It was not an uncommon sight to see
foreign tourists come bawling out of the building or fuming
with frustration and anger. Britain and India have long had
a karmic relationship:

“Many British people are subjectively linked with India, by

past incarnations and association; the quarrel between
Great Britain and India is largely a family affair in the
deepest sense of the term and hence its bitterness. As you
know, there is a close link between the fourth and second
rays and this again emerges in the relationship between Package wallah.

England and India; a destiny is there which must be jointly

5
worked out.” (Britain is a ray two soul and India a fourth ray personality.)
I remember my first mission to post a parcel back home took an hour. I had to pay
rupees to the “wallahs” outside the post office, all of whom had their little bureaucratic
tasks – various forms to fill out, the guy who tied your parcel up with string, another
who used wax seals (!) on parcels etc. It was all tediously and mind-numbingly slow!
Questions to these wallahs were invariably returned with the Indian “head bobble”,
which can mean yes, maybe or dozens of different things.

Indian Head Bobble expl…

Indian head bobble.

As a result of travelers being confronted with a completely different approach to what

they have taken for granted back home, or the shock of grinding poverty, noise and
pollution – many leave India after their first week, rather than stay for the rest of the
trip.

And so, I pressed on doggedly – my next destination

was to visit the Theosophical Headquarters at Adyar, Masonic Temple, Adyar. (Author’s
south of the city. I crammed into an ancient bus and pic.)
later, walking across a bridge over the Adyar River
(that I could smell several blocks away), I peered down at water that looked like thick
black sump oil!

Then I arrived at Adyar with high expectations, only to be confronted by unfriendly

bureaucrats who made my visit quite unpleasant. The same thing happened when I
later visited ISKON at Krishnapura, the birthplace of Krishna.

This is the nature of India – one can have the most extreme opposite experiences in a
moment, an hour or a day; it is the nature if the fourth ray personality of India –
Harmony through Conflict.

At Krishnapura I had my mango fruit breakfast snatched twice by some very quick
monkeys working the local tourist road! The people at ISKON were very unfriendly,
they sounded like fanatical fundamentalists as I recall. When I went to the river to
reminisce about Krishna frolicking with his Gopis, I witnessed the horror of a dog
dragging from the water a drowned baby – discarded due to female infanticide, still
practiced to this day. This inspired another poem that can be found in my book, Songs
to Varuna.

Another good example of these extremes was visiting the Tagore Family museum in
Santiniketan, Calcutta – at the end of my trip. The Tagore’s were leading cultural
lights in India and their state of Bengal. The main reason for my visit was for one of my
favourite poets and polymath, Rabindranath Tagore, author of Gitanjali:

“Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again
and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast carried
over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the
immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to
utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of
mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.” More …

Interesting that Tagore published his poems under the

pseudonym “Sun Lion” when he was younger – hinting
at his soul purpose as Leo rising – a cultural and
spiritual leader. “The great poet interprets to man his
present or reinterprets for him his past, but can also
point him to his future and in all three reveal to him the
face of the Eternal.”

After spending an enjoyable two hours at the museum, I

started to head back to my hotel but got lost. I found
myself in a street that was an outdoor abattoir for block
after endless block. All the butcher shops were in this
part of town and I was parched with thirst (again) as it
was extremely hot. The sun was practically cooking all
Rabindranath Tagore, a great the large piles of offal in the gutter – you can imagine
soul. the smell! I was staggering through this grotesque
landscape (lost in a desert!) looking for water and a way
home. I found this all very ironic in vegetarian India, perhaps a reflection of the Kali
Yuga age of death and destruction which we are now in.

Another advanced Hindu soul who had a role in bridging

East and West was Sri Aurobindo. I carried his poetry
book in my backpack alongside Tagore’s for most of my
trip in India. (The only other book I had was Alice A.
Bailey’s Light of the Soul, commentaries on The Yoga
Sutras of Patanjali.)

“Aurobindo was imprisoned by the British for writing

articles against British rule in India. [He studied at
Cambridge.] He was released when no evidence was
provided. During his stay in the jail he had mystical and
spiritual experiences, after which he moved to
6
Pondicherry, leaving politics for spiritual work.”
Goutam Ghosal writes:
“Tagore met Sri Aurobindo
I travelled to the Aurobindo community called Auroville, twice, very humbly,
near Pondicherry and stayed for a day, visiting recognizing in him the light
unerringly.” Tagore wrote of
Matrimandir, a grand temple built after Aurobindo’s
his significant experience in
passing – under the guidance of his collaborator, Mirra 1928 and wrote an entire
Alfassa, “The Mother”. It was still under construction in poem, ‘Salutation’, dedicated
to Sri Aurobindo.
1992, but the meditation floor was finished and
accessible, for which I took full advantage. Aurobindo is
regarded by his followers as an Avatar – and The Mother as a living incarnation of the
“Divine Mother”.

And as usual, from the sublime to the

strange – walking through Pondicherry
the next morning alongside one of the
canals, I spotted the largest, meanest,
scruffiest rat staring at me from the top
of an oil drum. It had hardly any fur and
its ears had been all but bitten off in a
thousand quarrels; it must have been
nearly two feet long, including its tail. It
crouched staring at me as if to say, “Go
Matrimandir. ahead, make my day”!

The order of visits in this diary are not

going to be necessarily in the order that I traveled them. But essentially I
circumnavigated the continent, starting in Chennai in a clockwise direction, finishing in
Calcutta. I am also relying on a patchy memory for some places, and many will be
omitted.

I stayed one night in Mahabalipuram, a very

ancient town where I awoke to the tinkling
sound of statue carvers chipping away at their
stone. The town is famous for its ancient
temples carved out of solid rock, portraying
events described in the Mahabharata. In the
2005 tsunami, the ruins of an ancient city were
uncovered.

Mahabalipuram – ancient city uncovered

in 2005.

Temples carved out of solid rock.

In Mahabalipuram I started
playing a small bamboo flute that had been in my backpack since Sri Lanka. One night
in a dream I had a vision of Krishna – he had a very large ancient silver flute inscribed
with all sorts of symbols and hieroglyphics. The sound that emanated from it was
unearthly and divine, no other words can describe the experience.

I woke up inspired to get some sounds out of my flute, huffing and puffing away for
half an hour in my hotel room, trying to train my lips and facial muscles to get the right
embouchure. There was a wardrobe at the other end of the room with a full length
mirror – spontaneously for a laugh, I stood on one leg like Krishna with the other leg
cocked up at right angles. To my amazement, no sooner had I taken this
posture/asana, I started playing and getting some great sounds – for about 30
seconds!

Next I traveled to Shantivanam, a Benedictine monastery in

Tannirpalli, founded by French Benedictines and later headed by
former Oxford graduate Bede Griffiths, leading thinker in the
development of a dialogue between Christianity and Hinduism. I
had traveled with the purpose of seeing Griffiths, but on arrival
discovered that he had passed just a few weeks previously. I had
several coincidences like this when traveling India and Sri Lanka.

Later I found myself in Bangalore and decided to visit the Sai Baba ashram, more for
curiosity than anything else. However, twice I went to the bus station, there was some
problem with buses not running. So I made do sampling Bangalore’s famous ice cream
and buying a big stock of incense.

After that I kept on running into

people who gave me vabooti, a
powder that Sai Baba regularly
manifested from thin air. Later on in
my journey heading toward Poona,
Sai Baba came to me in two different
dreams, the second one very
powerful where we had a
conversation about Lord Maitreya or
The Christ.

My “jury” is still out on Sai Baba –

the spiritual community is divided
about whether he was a rakshasha or the real deal. There
have been horrific allegations about him and also the very opposite that close friends of
mine swear to. Here is 4th ray India again! When I arrived at Poona I was very sick
from food poisoning on the bus and had a high fever. Vomiting, diarrohea – Poo-na was
living up to its name!

I checked into my hotel and went to emergency at the local hospital, as I did not know
if it was food poisoning or malaria – I had been devoured by mosquitoes in Sri Lanka.
They admitted me overnight, inserting a few drips in my arm for heat exhaustion and
stomach. The nurse who was just completing her shift said to me, on no account give
any money to nurses who may ask you to pay the hospital bill tonight. Sure enough, I
had two nurses approach me during the night, asking same. I almost handed over to
one of them in my semi-delirious state, but waited until I checked out the following
morning and paid 500 rupees.

I returned to my hotel and went out again, intending to visit the Rajneesh ashram but
never made it there either. However, as I was crossing the road, Rajneesh appeared as
clear as day, beaming at me, with a big grin on his face. A truck traveled between us
and when it had passed, he had disappeared! It was such a shock, I wondered if I was
still a bit feverish or if I had imagined it. Then I remembered that he had passed over
two years previously.

Not long afterward, I traveled to Kodaikanal in Tamil

Nadu, originally a “hill station” where people would go to
escape the summer heat. I am not sure what motivated
me to go there, but when browsing in a bookstore, I came
across some books I recognised.

As one of the founding members of the Sydney Esoteric

Bookstore (1989-1999), I knew my titles! I saw some
books by the author Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet (The Gnostic
Circle) and remembered that I had heard about her when
visiting the Aurobindo ashram at Auroville. She had been
“The Mother”. at odds with The Mother, a schism emerged and she went
on to create another community near Kodaikanal. So I set
off by bus and foot and eventually found the retreat property a couple of kilometers
down a rough track.

I was not feeling well again, not having fully recovered from being sick in Poona. Some
members of the community gave me some healing work. Later, I met with Patrizia and
we sat on the verandah of her house discussing esoteric astrology and philosophy for
several hours, in late afternoon into the evening. During that time a thunderstorm put
on a spectacular sound and light show and we had to shout to make ourselves heard at
times. Yet, feeling exhausted and not really that well, I decided to depart back to my
hotel.

I was offered a bed for the

night, but I felt that I needed
to return to town. They
asked if I had a flashlight as
the track was now very dark.
I said yes, I will be fine. On
reaching the track beyond
the garden lights, I found
that the flashlight was
battery-dead. I decided to
proceed anyway, getting the
occasional flash of lightning
from the receding
thunderstorm to guide my
Mahabalipuram sunset. (Photo: Saravanan Ekambaram.)
way – it was completely pitch
black.

In the first five minutes I managed to stumble into a big boulder at the side of the
track and crack my knee! Transiting Sun was in Capricorn by the way (square to my
natal Sun), and this sign rules the knees that one (k)needs to climb Capricorn
mountains. (My host Patrizia was a Capricorn too as I recall.) After half an hour of
slithering up the track and slipping into the mud several times, it became a mountain of
endurance. Capricorn also teaches humility – humus, down to earth, I was getting
down to … mud!

Periodically, faces and torches came out of the dark toward me – the local Tamils
returning to their homes further down. What they saw emerging from the darkness,
bedraggled and bespattered with mud must have alarmed some of them, but I mainly
heard giggles and laughter! After an hour or more, I finally made it up to the bitumen
road, parched with thirst (again!) and walked another couple of kilometers to the bus
stop on another road.

In fact, it was a truckers’ stop complete with snacks and chai tea. I ordered a chai (lots
of sugar and spices!) and asked him to keep them coming, I must have downed about
ten glasses, before the bus turned up and took me back to my hotel.

My room faced a mosque that blared out prayers all night over scratchy old distorted
speakers, so I had a fitful sleep after my exhausting marathon – ten glasses of chai tea
did not help either! (Buddhist, Christian, Hindu and Islam all co-exist peacefully in this
town.)

Kulu Valley (Himachal Pradesh)

Six months later, with the Sun transiting through Cancer, and
square to my Libran Sun – like before but only the opposite
sign, I had another big endurance test. I was exploring the
area around the Kulu Valley, the home of the artist Nicholas
Roerich and his wife Helena, author of the Agni Yoga series of
books, written in collaboration with the Master Morya. (Much
more later.)

I had arrived at the bottom of a steep hill just across a bridge

Nicholas Roerich
over a river. The hill had a very windy road snaking back and
forth a long way to the top. It looked like it would take ages to
walk it, and I was wondering if I could do a shortcut straight up the middle, by
scrambling up a 50 degree slope of rough gravel and thorny bushes.

The last bit looked the hardest, an almost vertical four metre climb. I stood there for
about ten minutes weighing up the possibilities and finally decided to go for it. Just as I
was starting, a little old man who must have been about 80 years old, bent over with a
cane, shuffled past me on his way up the long switchback hill. He paid me no attention,
in fact he might have been blind.

After half an hour of slow, careful climbing, I managed to get to

the last section. It was a very hot day and as usual, I was
thirsty! The next half hour was spent climbing the last four metre
wall. There were few footholds and the only hand holds were
thorn bushes. I slipped several times but managed to hang on to
the bushes, thorns digging into my hands, and blood running
down my arms. My legs were also scratched and bleeding as I
was wearing only shorts and t-shirt.

I finally made a last lunge for the top and pulled myself up to the Helena Roerich
road above, tee-shirt torn and drenched with sweat, scratched
and bloodied all over, lying on the ground gasping for air, but relieved I had made it.
Right at that moment, I heard the tap-tapping of the little old man with his cane as he
shuffled past on his way up the mountain! As before, he paid me no attention.
Hmmm….

Well, slow and steady won the race that day, the tortoise beat the hare. The slow
circuitous route triumphed over the direct path up the mountain – which of course is
related to the first ray of will-power. I was reminded of a passage I had read recently in
The Light of the Soul:

“In some of the old books there are detailed accounts of these three groups of
aspirants and they are portrayed under three symbols:
1. The intense group are depicted as goats, and aspirants of this type are frequently
found in incarnation under the sign Capricorn, [my conception chart]
2. The moderate group are depicted by a fish, and many born under the sign Pisces are
found in this category,
3. The gentle or slow group are pictured as crabs and often come into incarnation
7
under the sign Cancer.”

I checked into
my hotel in Kulu
for a week.
Every day I
would walk up
the hill to the
Roerich house
(“Kulu Hall”)
and talk with
the caretaker, Inside Kulu Hall
Kulu Hall. an older Russian
woman whose name escapes me. She had been
responsible for a Tibetan orphanage in the area at one
time. I believe she has passed on now.

One day, while thumbing through the Catherine Decter book, Nicholas Roerich: The Life
and Art of a Russian Master, I asked my companion what year Helena Roerich died. The
words had barely left my mouth when the page fell open displaying that very date!
India seemed to bring many little coincidences like this.

Every day I would walk up further to meditate near the Urusvati Himalayan Research
Institute that had been founded by the Roerichs. It was deserted at the time but has
now been fully restored I believe. I had arrived just after the Roerichs’ son Svetoslav
Roerich (also an artist) had passed away and the estate was being transferred to
government administratin.

“Urusvati Himalayan Research Institute was established by the Roerichs after their
expedition to the Central Asia in 1928. The Institute occupied two buildings beyond the
dwelling house up the mountain. The invaluable scientific collections collected during
their expedition to the Central Asia were brought there. ”8

One day I asked the caretaker if she would allow me to have a look upstairs. It was
usually forbidden as it was preserved as a spiritual sanctuary but she eventually
relented. The two beds of Nicholas and Helena stood side by side, with their wooden
 clog slippers at the foot of each. The lounge
room was decorated with many artifacts
and huge crystals that they had been
bought back from their epic four and a half
years journey beyond the Himalayas into
Tibet and Mongolia.

Finally, I was shown Helena’s work desk

that had a bookcase full of books upon it.
The complete set of Alice Bailey books was
there, thoroughly annotated, written in the
Urusvati Institute
margins and copious bookmarks in each.

This was surprising as I did not

realise she was a student of The
Tibetan – who used Alice Bailey as his
amanuensis. (Indeed, there was
some enmity from Helena Roerich
toward AAB, as my astrological
analysis here shows.)

Later
in my

The many moods of the Kulu Valley, no doubt

providing much inspiration for Nicholas Roerich’s
paintings. (Author’s pic.)

journey I visited Kalimpong, where Helena Roerich

spent her last years at Crookety House, now
administered by the Community of Living Ethics, from Italy. I had been trying to find
out her birth time so I could erect a correct horoscope. I also investigated her death
date at the local council offices in Kalimpong – they claimed to have no record, which is
curious! (Since writing this letter, I have been informed that her time is 8.46 am, giving
her Aries rising, fitting for one who was a pioneer and also a disciple of the first ray
Chohan Morya. http://www.astro.com/astro-databank/Roerich%2C_Helena)

Later on, visiting the local Tibetan monastery, I saw an unmarked stupa erected to her
memory in the vegetable garden. One of my most vivid memories of Kalimpong was of
enormous stands of bamboo reaching 30-40 metres high, with very thick trunks. The
wind was blowing hard through this gigantic thicket, generating a profound sense of
awe – extraordinarily mystical, something like being in the bamboo sequence of the
film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon!

I made a brief stop in Madurai. I cannot remember too

Inside one of the Madurai much about it, except that I waited an hour for a meal at
temples. (Author’s pic.) a restaurant! But the highlight was a night time outdoor
re-enactment of The Mahabharata in the old temples.
Halfway through the performance a fierce thunderstorm erupted, with loud thunder and
lightning, sending everyone scurrying for cover, getting drenched in the process!

After that I arrived in Tiruvannamalai, famous for its amazing temples. I thoroughly
photographed its extraordinary statues and temple details but have since lost all! I
must return one day anyway, as there are secrets pertaining to ancient human history
which this city holds. I had also meant to visit the ashram of Ramana Maharshi located
at the foot of Arunachala mountain nearby but never got there either!

There were several other cities and towns visited in the south, but their names elude
me. All of them had extraordinary remnants of an ancient past. I wanted to travel to
the magical Kerala but the train was not running for some reason. I thought then that
this will be part of my next trip to India. If …. ! Whilst in the south, I thought of soaking
up the aura of the Nilgherri Hills but never ventured (also for another trip), based
upon curiosity about this passage I had read:

“The Master Jupiter, Who is also the Regent of India, is looked up to by all the Lodge of
Masters as the oldest among Them. He dwells in the Nilgherry Hills in Southern India,
and is not one of the Masters Who [usually takes pupils, for He numbers amongst His
disciples initiates of high degree and quite a number of Masters. In His hands are the
reins of government for India, including a large part of the Northern frontier, and to
Him is committed the arduous task of eventually guiding India out of her present chaos
9
and unrest, and of welding her diverse peoples into an ultimate synthesis.”

The Master Jupiter was contacted

by author David Anrias: Tiruvannamalai

“… Anrias … told us that he had

spent many years in India, and that he used to retire for months at a time to a place in
the Nilgiri Hills where he practiced meditation under the guidance of the Master whom
Madame Blavatsky quaintly referred to as the Old Gentleman from the Nilgiri Hills. This
Master specialises in astrology in relation to cosmic forces, and supervises and
encourages the development of this science wherever possible. He apparently found
Anrias’s brain was of a type capable of being trained along lines similar to his own.”10

As a Master who specialises in astrology, he is no doubt familiar with the Tamil calendar
called the “Tirukkanda Panchanga”, compiled from the ancient one known as
Asuramaya in Atlantean times. Apparently the Masters use this as one of their main
11
references when considering astrology and cycles.

My next visit was to Vijaya Nagara in northern Karnataka south of Hyderabad. It is

the name of the now-ruined capital city that surrounds modern-day Hampi; it
belonged to the historic and enormous Vijayanagara Empire which extended over South
India. Hampi is a mind-blowing and surreal place, a popular part of the old hippy trail;
it also features the Vittala Temple with its musical (because hollow) pillars.
I gradually headed north to
Mumbai, stopping only one night,
before heading to Rajasthan,
south of Delhi. After a few months
in India, Rajasthan felt like coming
home. I found myself in Udaipur
known for its history, culture,
scenic locations and the Rajput-era
palaces. I stayed in a hotel built in
the sixteenth century with
beautiful mosaic windows and
original wooden doors. To enter
the room I had to duck as it was Mewar in Udaipur
only about five feet high.

I stepped out on the street after checking-in and saw the great spectacle of a
procession celebrating spring – the Mewar Festival. A male and female aged about ten
years old were standing on a float being carried down the road, festooned with
decorations and colour like only the Indians can create; it brought a lump to my throat
and tears of joy streamed down my face. India can ambush you like this and bring out
the most unexpected.

Again, this was in stark contrast to the awful bus trip there,
where a very loud video was playing – one of those
Bollywood films that is a musical, drama and many other
themes wrapped into one. Just as you think its about to
finish, it starts up again … excruciating! The bus trips in
India can be truly terrifying – drivers passing on blind
corners or crests of hills – real white-knuckle rides! If a bus
or truck comes the other way, the driver just casually goes
off the road into the dirt without slowing down.

I had several long bus rides of about 12 hours duration – in

big tourist coaches and other rickety, clapped out sardine
cans. On one trip, I remember nursing a small goat in one
arm and the mother placing her baby in the other arm as her
family settled into a crowded bus. (That may have been in Sri Lanka but very similar.)
My back seat was over the rear suspension, which was non-existent, so a long, bone-
jarring ride! I also recall one horrific trip where on an average every two hours I saw a
major accident – usually involving two big trucks or buses in a head-on collision.

Later I visited Jodhpur, more forts, military museums, antique stores. The most
memorable part of that visit was visiting the railway station to book a ticket for the
train the next day. Many people in India live at railway stations, displaced from rural
areas, suffering malnutrition and poverty. I noticed a woman just a few yards from the
queue. She was very still and did not look very well – and flies were on her face. I
walked over to have a closer look, peering down at her face and realised that she was
dead.

I naively mentioned it to the ticket seller and received a head bobble. It is such a
common occurrence in India, often no one knows who or where the person has come
from. The next day I returned to take the train and she had been spirited away in the
night. In a Delhi street, if someone
drops dead on the footpath, after a
few hours a sheet will be covering
them, and an impromptu collection of
rupees started for a cremation.
According to The Times of India,
33,000 people have died on Delhi
streets since 2004.

My next visit was Jaipur, also called

the “pink city”, painted to
commemorate the visit of a British Mehrangarh Fort, Jodhpur.
royal; It was planned according to the
principles of Vastu Shastra and Shilpa
Shastra, traditional Hindu systems of architecture and arts – incorporating design,
layout, measurements, ground preparation, space arrangement and spatial geometry. I
did all the tourist things in Jaipur, bought a ruby that turned out to be a garnet, had an
elephant ride up to the Amber Fort etc.

But the main reason for visiting Jaipur was to connect with
Christine and Jeremy Townend, an Australian couple who had
sold up everything and moved there to manage H.I.S. – Help
in Suffering – – an animal welfare group ; they helped create a
program that stopped the spread of rabies through dogs.

I stayed a week in Jaipur, visiting HIS several times. Jeremy

and I went out in the “animal ambulance” to pick up sick or
injured animals, from dogs to cows or donkeys. I was
saddened and shocked to see how animals had been so cruelly
treated and ignored – such a contrast to the veneration and
fuss that is made over sacred cows. Christine also gave me a
bunch of metaphysical books to donate to a library in
Dharamsala, home of the Dalai Lama. I lugged them in my rucksack for a few weeks
before reaching my destination.

I covered most of the main towns in Rajasthan, Jaisalmer, Jodhpur etc. – visiting many
museums and art galleries until I could not take any more Mughal paintings or Indian
military swords – enough already! Luckily a few museums had some Nicholas Roerich
paintings which was an unexpected treat.

Finally I arrived at Agra – home of the Taj Mahal and Akbar the Great, said to be a
previous incarnation of the first ray Chohan, Master Morya. As a great Mogul Emperor
of India, he was a patron of religion, art and science – the most liberal of all the
Mussulman sovereigns. I stayed in Agra three days, visiting the Taj Mahal and
photographing it. I also saw some rough justice meted out in the street to two thieves
that the police had arrested.

The mob mentality is a scary thing in India; I witnessed it when visiting the
Ramakrishna ashram in Belur Math, Bengal. Ramakrishna was the guru of Swami
Vivekananda, an initiate who brought Vedanta to the West in the 1890’s, particularly
the USA. I was standing outside the mission, when a demonstration against the
demolition of a building nearby turned ugly. I took refuge on top of a large wall, while a
street battle ensued. I could feel the surge of the mob anger as they reacted somewhat
mindlessly. An interesting juxtaposition to the mindfulness that Vivekananda taught.

L: Taj Mahal. R: A long bus ride and walk with a heavy backpack to this temple, whose name and
location I forget, though it was supposed to be very esoteric, LOL! (Author’s pics.)

I visited Akbar’s Fort, a vast complex of buildings, catalysing one of several India-
inspired poems that can be found in Songs to Varuna. Like the other Mughal kings,
Akbar was also a patron of astronomy and there are several observatories in the
Rajasthan region, including one I visited in Jaipur, the extraordinary Jantar Mantar.

After Agra, I headed toward

Dharamsala with my heavy
backpack of books. Of course the
first visit was the library at the
astrological institute, to lighten
my load and chat with the people
who worked there.

I had also heard that the Dalai

Lama was going to be around for
meeting pilgrims and visitors. I
enjoyed this town, very different
from the rest of India due to the Yes, the Nada Brahma (Divine Sound) was just unbearable!
presence of many Tibetans, Actually, the self-timer on my camera caught me trying to
Sikhs and Western ex-patriots or pull hair off my face!
tourists.

And so on the big day, I queued up with about 800 others to pay my respects to His
Holiness personally. I remember when it was finally my turn to meet him, that he looks
into your eyes as if he has all the time in the world for you – totally present – as he
does with every other pilgrim. I was reminded of the “great ocean of peace” that I
experienced in Sydney a few years before, just before he came on stage to speak.

Dharamsala also consisted of visiting the Dalai Lama’s physician (who has a public
practice) and obtaining some herbal supplements – little pills that look like sheep
droppings. I also sought out a flute teacher at McLeod Gange (“little Lhasa”) just
outside of Dharmasala. I turned up at my first lesson where he and a couple of Swedish
guys were consuming a giant chillum packed with ganja. I declined his invitation to
partake, having been there and done that for twenty years or more and by now well
over it.

Eventually I got back

to Delhi to take the
train to Varanasi,
where multitudes take
their dead to be
cremated on the
Ganges. The trip was
very memorable, I had
a bunk in C class and
the corridors of the
train were full of
people sleeping on the
floor.
Varanasi ghats (river landings) on the sacred Ganges.
To get to the bathroom
in the middle of the
night meant picking my way carefully through all the bodies. I had to step over a
sleeping mother and her baby right outside the putrid toilet. Varanasi is the most
auspicious place in India to go, to absolve one’s sins in the Ganges; it is one of the
oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and spiritual capital of India.

The first thing that strikes the senses in Varanasi is the smell of burning bodies. If India
is an assault on the senses then Varanasi is ground zero! Bodies are continuously being
cremated outdoors for many hours a day, every day of the year. It takes three to four
hours to burn a body completely, and left over bones are thrown in the river or to the
dogs.

It was so hot when I was there that I had to use an umbrella at 7.30 am – it was in the
low 40’s (C) almost every day. I took a trip out on the river with a boatman and at one
point he casually dipped his hand into the water to take a drink, just after a body
floated by! I am sure he did it just to shock me. Those who cannot afford cremation are
simply cast in the river. Eventually turtles, fish and dogs will finish them off.

Varanasi also has a thriving music industry. I found a great flute manufacturer and
bought several flutes, including one so long that my fingers could not even cover the
holes. (Shades of the Krishna dream flute.) But what a sound it made!
Sure enough, I left it on the
train at my next destination.
Before a train even stops at a
platform in India, it is besieged
by dozens of kids looking for
possessions left by travelers.
By the time I realised, a few
minutes walking down the
platform, it was too late. I
returned to my carriage but the
flute was gone – someone had
a great score that day!
Mighty Kanchenjunga
Buying a ticket for the train out
of Varanasi the morning before I left was also bizarre. You have to line up in several
queues before 8 am when the doors open. All the touts from the local hotels are there
to buy tickets for their customers and there must only be a limited amount. There were
two big policemen with large bamboo canes and I wondered what that meant until they
opened the ticket office doors and a stampede for tickets. The policemen waded in with
their bamboo batons beating back the throng. The glass doors nearly came off their
hinges and received further cracks on previous cracks. Varanasi is an enormous railway
station, I think I counted about 24 platforms, all packed with people. (For a more in-
depth view of Varanasi, check this travel blog by another traveler.)

From Varanasi I went to Bodh Gaya, the place where Gautama Buddha is said to have
obtained Enlightenment under the Bodhi Tree. A fairly anti-climatic visit as I recall, a
common experience in India, due to the idiosyncrasies of travel, sickness or general
stress. The main recall from that visit was standing on a platform chatting with a
drunken English traveler, attracting a large crowd of curious local onlookers – who just
surrounded us and stared! The Englishmen kept them entertained with stories and
songs and everyone had a good laugh.

From Bodh Gaya I took the train to Darjeeling, where I stayed for a week. Awakening
on the first day at my hotel (after a noisy night of crazy barking dogs next door), I had
a stunning view of Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world. I visited the
mountaineering museum later that day, detailing the history of all the attempts on
Everest over the past 150 years; it was one of the most moving experiences of my
entire trip, the many who died or were driven back by the mountain – making my little
mountain dramas look like molehills.

Esoterically, Darjeeling is one of the five main planetary

Dorje-eling. The double centres – with New York, London, Geneva and Tokyo. Its an
dorje. amazing contrast, such a small hill town compared to these
gigantic world cities. Yet its size belies its power spiritually,
more potent than the modern cities because of its proximity to the Hierarchy, those
Masters who reside hidden in the Himalayas, inspiring and guiding Humanity. The
reader can find several essays about these cities and what chakra they represent here.
In the author’s current hypothesis, Darjeeling is the crown chakra, directing the will
(and love-wisdom) of the Hierarchy, concerning the Planetary Plan.

Finally, I made it to Calcutta, exhausted from my long trip, having fallen ill several
times and losing a lot of weight! Walking down a crowded, noisy alley one day, I was
stopped in my tracks by a filthy beggar sitting on the ground wearing nothing but a
jute sack; he was the spitting image of a well-known person in the metaphysical book
business back in Australia. I continued on my way thinking nothing more of it, but
when I returned to Australia (via UK) sometime later, I discovered that this person had
died from cancer during my travels. So perhaps he was just saying hi!

Calcutta was incredibly hot, I spent a lot of time just resting in my hotel but did
manage to make it to the Tagore museum mentioned earlier. Came the day to fly out to
Britain, I arrived at the airport without enough money to pay the departure tax. I
naturally assumed that I would be able to get money from an ATM machine at this
international airport. No such luck!

I begged the airport employees to trade

something that I had brought, big
amethyst crystals from Jaisalmer or my
favourite Jethro Tull cassette tape. I had
my whole backpack unpacked on the
floor while they looked on with
bemusement. It was Friday afternoon
and the banks were about to close. My
flight was only about an hour away. I
rushed outside and jumped into the first
taxi, to find that the driver was only
Calcutta cabbie.
about twelve years old and could hardly
see over the steering wheel! His elder
brother was there and assured me I would be fine.

After getting lost several times, I jumped out of the taxi and went into a bank to ask
for a cash advance on my credit card. After ten minutes of head bobbles and total
confusion, I realised that they were not going to give me any money and took off back
to the airport, spending my last small change on another taxi.

I went back to the customs guys and one of them finally relented – taking a Mozart
cassette tape and something else. He also gave me some change that just covered a
chai tea and a biscuit, giving me 15 minutes to breathe before boarding.

As the plane sped down the runway, I looked out the window giving a one-fingered
salute – farewell India! I.N.D.I.A. – I will never do India again! I remember saying that
I would not return there until I had forgotten how bad some of the smells were – and
the excruciating noise! That was 23 years ago.

People romanticise about India,

especially when thumbing through an
exotic picture-book that can easily
foster illusions – which are promptly
trashed when they get there! There
was much that I did not see or do in
India. I never saw any of India’s
infamous sadhus or other tourist
spots for instance, neither was I that
interested. One could easily visit
India several times, taking different
 Sadhus about to take a dip in the Ganges. routes, seasons and festivals – and
have very different experiences.

Writing this brief travel diary brings a bit of nostalgia for the best bits of India. Do I
want to return again soon .. would I be a glutton for punishment? Time will tell … it
certainly will, sometime in this Kali Yuga.

Funding the HHH Project

With regard to these project plans, I am initiating a new donation fund. At this link
there is a longer reflection about the problem of raising finances for a project that may
seem somewhat obscure and less urgent globally, hence less attractive to potential
donors.

Yet, if one recognition can be made about The Grand Illusion that imprisons Humanity,
it is around our very genesis, the origin of the human soul and the subsequent
evolution of consciousness; distorted human history, the nature of ancient cycles and
the erroneous scientific theory that humans came from apes; for millions there is not
even the recognition that they have souls yet! Hence, there is a need to disperse,
dispel and devitalize these illusions, starting from the mental plane working down to
the physical level, through science – esoteric and exoteric.

I have often had comments regarding my travels like, “enjoy your holiday” and “lucky
you” and sure, it does have its moments. Yet travel in foreign countries can be
extremely onerous more often than not (as described above in India’s extreme case!),
with unknown and shocking roads, bad drivers, local customs, language, food etc. –
even in “civilised” Europe, as I have recently experienced in Italy 2016! (Travel Diary
forthcoming soon.) It takes a great deal of patience and persistence to keep forging
ahead.

I have the impression sometimes that people think I must be very well off financially to
do this, unfortunately not true! I make a very modest income as an astrologer and
conducting occasional seminars. As long as I have an internet connection, I can pretty
much work from anywhere in the world, giving me the freedom to travel and follow the
HHH project. I talk about what is involved with life on the road in an earlier travel diary
in 2010.

As a reminder, if you want to read a longer discussion about donating to this work,
please follow this link: donation fund.

DONATIONS

1. Esoteric Astrology, Alice A. Bailey. p.64. [↩]

 2. The Secret Doctrine II, H.P. Blavatsky. p.495. [↩]
3. Esoteric Psychology I, Alice A. Bailey. p.385. [↩]
4. http://www.answers.com/Q/Good_effect_of_british_rule_to_india [↩]
5. The Destiny of the Nations, Alice A. Bailey. p.53. [↩]
6. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sri_Aurobindo [↩]
7. The Light of the Soul, Alice A. Bailey. p.45. [↩]
8. http://en.icr.su/protection/heritage/Roerich_Kulu/index.php [↩]
9. Initiation, Human and Solar, Alice A. Bailey. p.53. [↩]
10. Cyril Scott, The Initiate in the Dark Cycle, p. 89. [↩]
11. The Secret Doctrine II, H.Petrovna Blavatsky. p.67. [↩]

Posted in Nations & History, Rootraces: Lemuria. Atlantis. Aryan., Travel Blog | 1
Comment

One Response to Origins Odyssey Travel Diary #7: India-Sri

Lanka. (Prequel 1: 1992)

Jo Garceau says:
February 15, 2016 at 7:18 am

Thank you for publishing this travel journal. I visited India for approximately a
month in 1986 and enjoyed your “take” on some of the same places I saw. I
enjoyed vicariously returning to a very difficult travel destination, one that
changed my life for the better. Spiritually, the time has been the watershed of this
lifetime.
Reply

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