October 5, 1968

(Mother is unwell again. Satprem could not

 see her for a week.)

Everything is in a daze.

I can no longer see, no longer hear, I spend my nights coughing.

The doctor can't make any sense of it. Medically, everything is supposed to work very well, then in a few minutes everything gets disorganized.

I see you as if through a thick fog.

All that is inside seems to want to come outside.... I am familiar with this sort of magic.

V. has had another vision. He went to the Vatican.

To the Vatican! ... In his sleep?

He wasn't asleep: he could hear the noise of the [Ashram's]

 generator. It was a vision at 5:30 in the morning. He found

 himself in an immense hall with red carpets. There were all

 kinds of people there, each moving about according to his

 order. Then, in a corner, seated in a big armchair, there was a

 man wearing a red hat, a sort of miter,[[V. is an Indian who had never seen a miter in his life and does not know what it is, but his description tallied precisely. ]] and in concentration.

He was concentrated, and was repeating something with a cer

tain gesture of the hand, as if turning something in a circle. V.

instantly knew it was him. A man with intense blue eyes, long

 eyelashes, not strong physically but with a very powerful

 appearance, a thin, pointed nose, a sparse beard like that of

 someone who doesn't shave properly or hasn't shaved for two

 or three days, about fifty-five years old. A man who gave the

 impression of a great egoistic ambition, says V. And he was

 intently watching P.L., particularly your symbol which P.L.

wears around his neck. And he was repeating something while

 turning his wrist.

Oh, that's it! That's why: P.L. went back there, and it's since then that the attacks have come back.

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Yes, P.L. is the link.

(after a silence)

Yes, they have come back.

At times, in the space of a few seconds it falls on you in such a way as to make you think you're going mad. Last night, it was terrible.

And you, are you better?

Yes, it went away completely, just as suddenly.

When you spoke to me last time, I took the thing ... (gesture of pulling out an invisible dark point from Satprem's atmosphere).

I can't speak; as soon as I speak, I start coughing. But if you like, we can remain quiet.

(meditation)

* * *

(During the meditation, Mother's attendant silently walks

 through the room, without making the least noise on the

 carpet. A few seconds later, Mother stops the meditation:)

Has someone come in the room?

Yes, Vasudha.

(Mother coughs) Impossible to speak.

Oh, the other day, on Durga's day, [[The puja or yearly celebrations to Durga, this year on September 29 (Sunday). ]] I went over there [to the music room where Mother sees people].... I told you last year that she had come and made her surrender. This time, I went there (it was the first time I'd come out); as soon as I entered the room, I felt there was something, an impending attack. So I sat down, kept very still, and called the Lord as usual so He would fill the room with his light. And it was She who came in a golden light - a glory of adoration and consecration! She stood there (immense gesture). It was magnificent! Magnificent. And the whole morning was very good. Then, in the afternoon, things went wrong again.

Couldn't you strike at these people a little?

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I can't strike! (Mother opens her arms) I no longer can!

 I smile at them.

 I tell them, "Come, come, what's the use?"

 Durga, too, I have taught her not to strike.

 So, till Wednesday. I hope things will be better.

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