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Hadn´t the Indian sub-continent recently been
ravaged by terrible religious massacres? Were these the remaining traces?
I was unable to avert my eyes...What an uncanny feeling, when those distinctly
colourless and printed news items at home in Switzerland suddenly take
on a real appearance; large dark eyes and a smile. Children´s hands
that knocked beggingly against the limousine. All of this blood concerned
me so much that I couldn´t avoid inquiring about it. With a smile
it was explained to me, the newcomer - the simpleton -, that the "bloody"
splashes were by no means the evidence of any atrocities, but rather the
red tannic acids which were set free when chewing the ubiquitously and
much-loved betel nut and then spat out.
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•October
1950 November 1950
•24. | 25.
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And in the midst of the brilliant lustre and reflections
from the marble in the grandiose entrance hall, surrounded by the benevolent
and gracious smiles of uniformed Indians, I suddenly felt very strange and
alone. I yearn for my stones and rocks. For something solid and tangible.
For something which does not startle me at every turn with the unexpected.
It is about time that I reach the Himalayas! But I am probably only tired,
it was a long day. Tomorrow we continue towards Calcutta.
Next day...
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