Tuesday, December 26, 1995
Puri, the seventy-seventh day
Most Westerners are arriving here from Calcutta, the line leading to Puri is not going further. Going further south is complicated from there. You start from Calcutta alone, then you sympathize with the other Westerners traveling with you in the compartment of the train at night, then you share the same room and the days go by without being able to decide to leave, or find a free place in a train. I cannot escape the rule - except that I had planned to stay ten days - and find myself more or less belonging to a group of Australians from Melbourne. My roommate is called Lita, twenty-three years old, meditates daily and likes Aretha Franklin she had the opportunity to hear on my records.
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