Undated May (?) 1960

Pondicherry

Mother,

You sent me this flower, 'Vital Collaboration.' I am taking this opportunity to tell you something which has been weighing on my heart for years and which, naturally, comes back up whenever things go badly.

I have been here seven years and I can't count a single concrete experience, not a single vision (the only things that have ever happened were in Ceylon or Rameswaram). I haven't even managed to have a few slightly conscious nights.

Isn't this reason enough to be discouraged? In any case, these questions are stirring in me—and the vital is not happy [nor the mental, nor the physical].

Excuse me if I speak too frankly.

Signed: Satprem