Simon, painter writer traveler   
 
 
 
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In the deep heart of India

In the very deap heart of  India

First page of the book :

WHY ?

I am thirty-four, I've got money, and my heart has been broken by a crazy love. Such things do not occur - at the same time - everyday : what a opportunity ! And beeing so fond of travelling, deep in my body. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for India. I'm longing for a very powerfull ravaging travel. Why India ? People around wonder why. What can I answer ? I don't know anything about India - that's the reason why I'm going there. As everybody else, I've got plenty of images in my head, finally nothing in fact. Of course, I've convincing explanations : an inexpensive country, a land of spirit, a quest for colors, a desire of unwordliness, a need of wisdom, an so forth ans sonon. All reasons that don't mean anythnig and don't give any good answer to anybody's expectations, and to me, to begin with. I a running away, tha's all. Just like the great goodfellow Montaigne, I don't know what I'm looking for, but I know quite well what I am escaping from. But where can I go ? I used to ask myself for several months. The world is so wide. I didn't want to choose the destination. I would rather entrust life itself - it's so more clear-sighted than we are as far as we are concerned - to choose the right way. The point was simply to go far away from home. For a long time, Brazil and India stayed at stake. But gradually, I understood that my life - against all expectations - was fit for the East. Fit, ready and greedy. Just like a plant demands water, I needed dawn. And, one sign after another, India came first. On the whole, India revealed itself as the very obvious destination. Some films (like Satyajit Ray's Music Room, Renoir's River) some books (Michaux, A Barbarian in Asia) talks from friends, just like distant locks ("It's a very violent journey", someone told me, hoping to discourage me : it was difficult to get a result so much opposite from the aim...) and some words from A., above all, in a coffe-shop unwisely called The Renaissance, tha'ts it, it's done - I'm taking off tomorrow, 4 p.m. to Madras, via Bombay, Gulf Air flight... I am leaving, and I am shivering. Just a little.

(Translated by Gerard Clot and Martine Dupuis-Bourdet)


 
Journey diaries India In the deep heart of India


 

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