The love song of the dark lady XII

Previously

Chapter 12

David began sitting with Galina throughout the day and I tended to see him only at night when we continued our practice of reviewing the day and sharing some illicit cigarettes and alcohol. He was happier and yet nothing much had really changed. They sat together. She helped him find his place when it was time to sing. He would glance at her and she would glance back. But they rarely actually spoke more than a few words. During lunch and dinner she sat next to him, but they were never really alone. The same discussions continued.

It was interesting that no one came up to me to ask me about my progress towards enlightenment. No one asked me why I was there. No one attempted to persuade me.  Perhaps, it is the manner that I have developed throughout all my years in Russia. There’s a certain look that I have developed. My husband has it, too. Many of our friends and colleagues likewise know how to look in such a way that discourages conversation.  I remember at one point in the film ‘Doctor Zhivago’, Alec Guiness walks into a room in the middle of an argument. He snaps his fingers and everyone ceases speaking. It’s not so much because of how he snaps his fingers, but because of the look on his face and the fact that this look tells everyone exactly who he is. When I first arrived in Russia, it was very necessary that people did not ask me too many questions. I could not have people delving into my past with small talk. There was a surface persona that worked, but it was more or less only on the surface. If you dug a little deeper, you reached Effie and Effie had no business being in Kaliningrad. So I became shy, I became reticent and I developed my look that said ‘Don’t ask me any questions’. And so people were friendly enough to me. They were happy that I was there and asked a little about where I was from and how I had become interested in Krishna. But when I pulled down the shutters on the conversation, they dropped me and soon went off looking for someone else to talk to.

I’d talked to David about his plans. He was glad that he had stayed on. He was looking forward to going to India. This was the excitement and the changed path that he had been looking for all those years ago when he had started learning Russian. Above all, he was looking forward to having Galina on his own as she took him to the airport. He thought they would have the chance to talk of other things. He might be able to allude to their relationship. He might even be able to make a little progress. Then after a few months, he would be with her again. There was a lot to look forward to.

I wondered how real his dreams were, but I didn’t say anything negative. When faced with a difficult situation years earlier, I hadn’t listened to anything negative, I had done what was necessary to fulfil my dream. In this David was like me. He was willing to act. He didn’t just sit back passively waiting for his fate to happen. He made it happen. He knew what he wanted and was willing to spend some money and endure some hardship. The problem is that he knew what he wanted, but I was entirely unsure that Galina knew what she wanted. She had twice intervened to keep the relationship going. She had invited him to come to Moscow, she was now inviting him to go to India, but did she accept the logical implication of these invitations. You can’t invite a man to travel in that way and then expect him to act towards you just as if you were any other acquaintance. What was going to happen when they were confronted with desire? What above all would happen if she found that desire in herself? I worried, but I said nothing negative.

I questioned him about the ideas that we had been exposed to. I was concerned that he was getting just a bit too close.

“Don’t worry, Effie, I’m not about to turn into one of them, but it will help me with Galina if I understand a little of what she believes.”

“I imagine this trip to India will not exactly be sight-seeing,” I said.

“Again, I’m pretty vague about details. I suspect it will be something like this only with a warmer climate and worse food.”

“What if she doesn’t change in the way you want her to? You’ll be a long way away from home.”

“I don’t make plans. What’s the point? But I’m hoping we will be able to spend some time together.”

“Do you think she’s worth it, David? It’s an awful struggle for an uncertain end.”

“Did you think it was worth it when you went to Russia?”

“But I was married, David, and I knew my husband loved me.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d do as you are doing. I’d go.”

“Why?”

“I’ve known Galina quite a long time. She’s worth it and not because she is beautiful. I’ve seen how you look at her. You’re right to do so. She’s stunning, but she’s much more than that. When her mind is not clouded, there’s something quite special there.”

“I think so, too. When she writes, there is suddenly a sentence that touches me, even if the rest of the letter is nothing special and sometimes just mumbo jumbo. While now, for the most part, she is glazed over and thinking only of her mantra, I can sometimes break through and find the Galina I knew. She’s hurt in a way that I don’t understand, but I think I can heal her. I’m going to try.”

It was the last evening and he was happy sitting beside her. The discussion had been toned down. They all knew that David was willing to go to India and in that sense there was no need for further persuasion. He wasn’t quite one of them, but he had shown that he was willing to go a long way along the path to meet his Garudi. I saw people acting towards them subtly as if they were a couple. Those people who had been disapproving when they heard that he had come to see Galina, were accepting, even enthusiastic, to admit him on those terms. I heard little bits of gossip about Garudi and the man from England. In Russia everywhere in Britain is called England. Some people were rather disapproving, but others said the guru had agreed and approved.

I was sitting across from David and Galina. He was being conciliatory about the whole experience. He said he’d enjoyed himself. They talked a little about India, about when it might happen, what it would be like. He was optimistic and whenever he heard of any difficulties, he dismissed them. It was just as things should be at about 10 O’clock on the last night.

“David,” she said. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Sure, anything,” he said.

“Would it be OK if I didn’t go back with you to the airport tomorrow?”

“I don’t think I can manage on my own.”

“But you can get a taxi, it won’t cost much more.”

“I’d rather been looking forward to that time.”

“I know, but I’m going to stay on for a few more days here. We’re planning some quite important discussions tomorrow morning.”

I could see the devastation on his face. He was willing to do so much to be with her, and it seemed she wasn’t willing even to take him to the airport.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she said.

“Like what? I’m disappointed that’s all. But, in the end, it’s not that big a deal. I can get a taxi.”

“But must you keep looking? Every minute you’ve been here you’ve been looking at me. I look round and your eyes are on me. It’s as if they look through me or imagine what’s underneath.”

“Galina, what’s wrong, we were having a nice time thinking about the future and suddenly you are angry?”

“Because I’m sick of it. I’m sick of seeing your desire. You always want to talk to me. But it’s just spam. I want to focus on what’s important and you, you’re always there with your distractions and your trivial wants.”

“When have I ever?”

“But I know what you’re thinking. I know what you want. I know why you want to go to India. You want me. That’s all you want. But I’m going there to find out and to learn. I’m not interested in this thing that you want.”

“Then why on earth did you ask me to come here, Galina? It’s not serious. I was happy to walk away two years ago in Kaliningrad, but you wrote to me. I was happy to walk away again two days ago, but you came and talked of India. Enough! It’s not serious!”

At this he got up and walked out. I went with him and we smoked a couple of cigarettes outside. So it had ended this way, I reflected. It was always likely to. They wanted different things, and I could scarcely imagine how she could change. In the end, if she wasn’t willing to even take him to the airport, what chance did they have of finding something together in India? If they couldn’t find it in Moscow, why would they be able to find it there? If she didn’t really want to spend time with him, if she valued one more discussion as more important than that, then really what was the point?

I saw that he was all choked up, there may have been tears flowing down his cheeks. It was hard to tell in the dark.

“We’ll go for a drink in a minute,” I said.

“I need one.”

But then Galina was flying out of the door. There was a scene where both she and David were almost hysterical. She spoke Russian so quickly that even I struggled to keep up, but there was nothing much to keep up with. He answered as best he could and somehow through the hysterics came a new reconciliation. I have no idea what happened inside while we were smoking our cigarettes. Perhaps, she calmed down a bit. Perhaps, it was at the point when she might lose him that she suddenly realised that she must act and act now. It was all very strange and bewildering even for me. What it must have been like for David I can hardly guess.

They squabbled about who said what and why. She told me to leave and what business of mine was it anyway.

“You’re always looking on, aren’t you, Zhenya? You never say very much about yourself, but you find out about others. There are people in there who are a little scared of you. Did you know that? They wonder who you are.”

“Calm down, Galina,” I said. “I’m happy to leave the two of you to it. Why don’t you go and sit together for a few minutes and sort things out? These tiffs are nothing much. But think calmly. Good night both of you.”

They went off together to David’s room. Of course, nothing happened. They sat for a while, chatting. She was sorry that she’d lost her temper. He asked if she still wanted him to go with her to India. She did. He told me later the sort of things they said.

“You must be patient with me, David. I’m a little confused. I’m tired. I want to learn, I want to keep on this path, but another part of me enjoys ordinary things.”

“You don’t know quite what you want,” he said. “Or else what you want is incompatible with something else you want. That’s fine. You can have both. There’s no need to choose.”

“I don’t know that I can give you what you want.”

“All I want is the chance for us to find out. We need to spend some time together.”

She began fussing about in the room after a few minutes as if she was getting nervous. She saw a book he had been reading and dismissed it as rubbish and that he should not pollute his mind with such things, nor, indeed, should he smoke or drink.

“I think that Zhenya is a bad influence on you,” she said.

“She’s been a good friend to me, but why don’t you call her by her real name?”

“Zhenya is her real name. What do you call her?”

“Effie.”

“I think that’s some kind of pet name her husband uses.”

“Oh, well, it hardly matters.”

“Look, I must go. I’ll see you off in the morning. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. I never really did, Galina.  Do something for me, would you?”

“What?”

“Embrace me.”

She looked dubious, but they did embrace and held for a few seconds. He could feel her discomfort as he held her close towards him. He could feel the closeness of her body and enjoyed the sensation, but he wondered what she was feeling. He sensed that the experience was difficult for her and yet, perhaps, she, too, had wanted him to do this. But there was a slight tremble that he could sense as he held her as if holding an animal that is scared and wants desperately to be let free. So very soon he released her. There was no question of any more, not even a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, David,” she said with Galina’s eyes and with no mantra going through her brain. She smiled with her whole face and yet there was also that hint of Russian severity that he rather liked.

The next day I saw him briefly and we exchanged e-mail addresses and telephone numbers. I would talk to him quite a bit over the next few weeks.

With Galina in those last few minutes before the taxi arrived there was nothing really said. She was neither distant, nor affectionate and they only talked of general things, of how he would write to her and of how they would organise their trip.

As he got into the taxi, he looked at her. Her face was pale, her hair was ragged and uncombed, but it was the Galina who he had known. Somehow through all the ups and downs he had been able to communicate to her.

Now even though he expected to see her again in a couple of months, it somehow felt like he would never see her again, and so he carefully photographed the image that she presented to him on a cold sunny Moscow morning. He looked once more, and then she was gone. 

Next 

The love song of the dark lady XI

Previously

Chapter 11

There was an odd tension between David and Galina over the next days, but nothing fundamentally changed. I saw however, that he was getting more and more tired. He wasn’t sleeping well in his room. He hadn’t regretted getting a room of his own. I, too, was glad that there was a place that we could sit and drink late at night and smoke cigarettes without standing outside. But when we sat there, we kept on our coats and it still felt cold. He wasn’t eating very much and the whole experience was grinding him down.

In essence, everything was a repetition. Just as they repeated the mantra endlessly, so they repeated everything else. The songs were repeated. The little ceremony with the Krishna idol was repeated. The guru repeated what he had said before with slight variations on the theme. The dancing was repeated. The group assembled to debate with David was always the same. It was relentless. People were friendly, but they were most concerned, not so much with him, as with how he would continue his relationship with Krishna when he went back to Scotland. He was vague about it just to get them off his back. He said that there were lots of Indians in Britain, perhaps, he would find out about these things from them. But this was met with incomprehension.  Above all, he should avoid Indians. Their form of religion had been corrupted long ago. He had to find a Hare Krishna group. People offered to put him in contact with others like them in Britain. David thanked them, but hoped they wouldn’t bother. He was struggling. The line that he had been taking that he was just there to see Galina, that he was a Catholic who was curious about eastern religion, had been beaten down. They had begun to make him engage with the actual beliefs. They had seen him taking part in the dance. Perhaps, they sensed his weakness.

I think David sensed it, too. It is so easy to get caught up in cult-like hysteria. Even I, who knew a lot more about some of the cult–like aspects of this particular group of Hare Krishnas, found myself caught up in it. This is after all, a part of human psychology. I know that if I had been a German at one of their rallies in the 1930s I, too, would have been shouting “Sieg Heil” or anything else everyone there was shouting.  Even when I knew the truth, I had still felt myself going along with the dominant view in the Komsomol meetings and also for that moment believing it. It is perfectly possible to believe something we know not to be true.

The moral superiority some of us feel about the SS or the NKVD is wholly misplaced. Given the choice between self-preservation and doing something awful that everyone else is doing, few of us part from saints choose self-destruction. The best we can hope for is to go along with the crowd and contribute as little as possible. Given the right circumstance all of us are equally guilty.

While I had arrived at this gathering of followers and devotees fully aware of its cult like status, fully aware of the real nature of the guru, I, too, found myself swept along in the dance. Part of it was just to be able to stay undercover without giving myself away, but not all of it. It wasn’t only an act. I sang the mantra “Hare Krishna” and I meant it, even though I knew the truth. This is why all this group psychology is so dangerous. It is very powerful and when a person is weak, when he is unhappy, it can be easy and so delightful to drown yourself in that dance which washes away all other thoughts.

There can only have been a couple of days left when David rebelled. He asked one of the people, who looked after the building, to arrange a taxi. He was packed and waiting. The word went around very quickly. Suddenly, everyone was very kind to him; suddenly, everyone was very gentle, telling him how much they would miss him if he went. He just kept telling everyone that he was tired, he was cold, he couldn’t eat. He was quite determined. Perhaps, he sensed the need for self-preservation. Perhaps, he was fully aware of his own weakness and felt the need to get away or else, give in.

I had guessed that something like this might happen. I didn’t disapprove. He had done all he could. Galina had not really changed in any way towards him. She had spent a little more time with him than before, but she was still fundamentally only involved in her own mantra. She had gone back to being Garudi. Her eyes had glazed over. A smile continually spread across her face as if she was high. She was high with her mantra. He had been able to break through to her on the snowy path away from the building, but when they had come back to the warmth, she had more or less gone back to blanking it all out from her mind. She kept repeating Hare Krishna, until David no longer entered her thoughts.

At what point does someone give up the search for love? Some people are willing to wait years in the hope that a best friend will become a lover.  Who has not come across the case of someone who loves without getting anything back? It is common enough. That person frequently thinks if I’m just a little bit nicer, if I wait just a little bit longer, then she will change, she will come to love me. But it rarely works out that way. Once the path has been set that one party loves and the other does not, then it normally continues that way. But usually at some point the person who loves without hope realises this and gives up. David had with Galina in Kaliningrad. He had realised that the relationship was going nowhere and so had said goodbye not expecting to see her again. It was she who had resurrected things. Now as he sat waiting for the taxi to arrive, she chose to resurrect things again.

Was it her choice? I think, it was at least in part. Yet a sort of panic had spread through the building with the news that David was packed and ready to go. I saw many people talking to Galina. I even saw the guru and his wife in a little group with Galina. It may be that they were persuading her, or it may be that they were giving her a dispensation. I didn’t really understand how they dealt with human relationships. There were few obvious couples except the guru and his wife. Everyone slept in separate dormitories. But after a time Galina came to where David was sitting and everyone else left, and left them alone.

“I hear you’re planning to leave,” she said. “Weren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Galina, it’s just I can’t take it anymore.”

“Can’t take what?”

“The food, the cold… I’m tired.”

“That’s not the real reason though, is it?”

“It’s not what I expected. I’ve given it a good try, but there doesn’t seem much point. I didn’t come here to listen to these lectures.”

“I wanted to you to find out about something that is important to me.”

“But for what, Galina? For what purpose?”

“Well how else can there be a relationship without understanding?”

“But we don’t have a relationship, Galina.”

“I’m not ready for what you want. I can’t make any promises and at the moment I have to focus on this. It’s important to me, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something important between us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It means a lot to me that you came here and I want us to continue writing and seeing each other.”

“I don’t think I could bear another of these retreats.”

“It wouldn’t necessarily have to be that way. It’s just I was a little scared of meeting you alone in Moscow. You have to be patient with me, David.”

“You’re scared?”

“Yes, I’m scared.”

“What happened to you?”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? Perhaps, nothing happened, or else I just realised that I didn’t like how I had been living. I looked for something else and found this.”

“But can I fit into this?”

“That’s what we’re finding out. There may be the chance to find out further.”

“What chance?”

“I may be able to go to India again. You could come, too. We could find out a lot that way.”

“And would we be together?”

“In a way. Let’s not rule anything in and let’s not rule anything out.”

“I’ve never been to India. I never had any desire to go. It was never a culture that particularly interested me and people say it’s dirty and you get ill.”

“It’s tough, David. It’s much tougher than spending a few days in a large building outside Moscow. The food will be worse, too. If you can’t pass this test, how could you pass that one?”

“I have my own beliefs.”

“That’s fine. They are more or less the same. Just so long as you are open to new experiences.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Yes, I do very much. I’m sorry, I haven’t spent as much time with you as you would have liked, but why don’t you sit with me today? Everyone is so glad that you are here, and everyone is happy that I have someone special with me.”

Of course, he stayed. What else could he have done in the face of such persuasion? He could see that she meant it, too. The eyes were the same as they had been on the snowy path. They were the same as on their first afternoons in Kaliningrad. She was like she had been when they had first met at the airport, happy to see him and to be with him. The tenderness was real and the caresses while not physical, were felt as if they had been. He saw that there was feeling in her eyes. It wasn’t quite the same feeling that he felt, but it wasn’t so very different. He felt there was a chance and a man in love will endure much for a chance.

I, too, was glad. David had become quite dear to me, but he was also my best chance of rescuing Galina. If he had gone, I would have had to act alone and that would have been harder. I was still ready to do so, but I knew that my course of action, while powerful, might also do harm. I was very aware of the responsibility, especially the long-term responsibility.

I wondered what she really felt. I think, Galina really did feel something. She loved David in her own way. There was some sort of problem she had about doing something about it, but time and patience could overcome that. If he could only get her on her own for a while, I thought he had a pretty good chance. Love and spending time alone together will usually result in two people finding a way of expressing that love. The problem was that when Galina retreated into Garudi, when she focussed on herself and her mantra, it wasn’t clear that there was any room for anyone else. There wasn’t even any room for Galina. 

Next

The love song of the dark lady X

Previously

Chapter 10

When David described some of this to me later I encouraged him to continue. I emphasised the positive and downplayed the negative. His mood was mixed and as we smoke and drank he began to confide in me. He needed me at that moment and, I too, needed him. I knew he was one of the best chances I had of fulfilling my task. Galina was deeply in. I couldn’t even reach her at all. We had barely even spoken. She had been pleased to see me, but my story had always been that I was interested in finding out about meditation and Indian mysticism. I had written to her that I’d found my own path dull and finally a dead end. I wanted to try something else and had met some people in Kaliningrad who had showed me something about yoga. I described some of the books that I had read, some of the classics of Vedic literature. She’d suggested that I come to this gathering of like minds. But then that was my cover story. I was an interested participant. I hadn’t come to see her. She had only done me a favour by helping me to find this meeting. I had some more cards that I could play, but I hoped that that might not be necessary. If David could win her round, that would be altogether better in the long run. My leverage, at that point, with Galina was limited. I could only really talk to her in passing. We were friends, but not so close that she would have expected us to talk incessantly. Anyway, her role now was as a devotee instructing an initiate. Whenever I started talking to her about life outside, she reminded me that we must focus on our inner life, on saying our mantra and on listening to the guru. I couldn’t argue against her position, as that would have blown my cover.

It was only David who could argue, for he didn’t need any cover. He’d been clear that he was there to see her. But I couldn’t take that line. Even David could not attack directly. His goal was similar to mine, but also different. Imagine if he had fallen in love with a girl from Japan, he would have done everything he could to respect her beliefs and her culture. If they had gone together to a Shinto temple, he would not have criticised her beliefs and practices, rather he would have respected them and discussed them in a friendly way. He would have said that he wanted to learn and would have listened patiently as she told him of each little thing she did in the temple. Indeed, such a person, in love with a girl from Japan, would have tried to eradicate from his mind any negative thoughts about Shinto or Buddhism, because these would be negative thoughts in part about the girl he loved. It is for this reason people sometimes convert when they marry. But even if they don’t convert, they treat the beliefs of the loved one with respect. A lover doesn’t make jibes about idols and ancestor worship.

David’s goal was not to turn Galina away from Krishna. When every day there were discussions, he knew that Galina was either listening, or probably would later hear what had been said. Therefore, he was careful in how he argued. He did not attack, he only defended and if that defence contained a veiled attack, he veiled it very carefully with his excellent maskirovka. He didn’t care what Galina believed so long as she believed in him.

I continued to help a little with the vocabulary and as we sat together in his room at the end of each day our discussion would range over the issues involved. In this way his thoughts developed like in a tutorial. In this way I was able to describe some new defensive formations and ways of outflanking attacks. I told him, for instance that it was only by focussing on externals that people felt they had the need to travel to India to find enlightenment. Boethius or Bunyan after all could find God in a prison cell. Though, let alone faith need not be influenced by surroundings. So why travel all the way to India to sit in a nunnery? Galina had exactly the same mind in Kaliningrad as she did there. Why choose someone else’s religion if you are seeking mysticism and that which is beyond the ability of all of us to think. Wittgenstein found this in a prisoner of war camp. It is not as if Christianity lacks mysticism. I thought these people were looking for something exotic, something strange, but this exoticism only masked the shallowness. They were imitating someone else’s practices and doing so rather badly. It was as if I went to Japan for a while and looked on as people performed the rites of Shintoism. I might read some books on the subject and then return home and set up a Western branch of Shintoism. But it is likely that I would miss something. What I would miss would not necessarily be a lack of understanding, but I would miss the mundaneness of every day Japanese life. Shinto would be something that was integrated into Japanese life, something that was done more or less automatically without necessarily too much thought. With my newly found enthusiasm and obsession I could easily change this into a cult.

So, too, here. There were millions of Hindus in India who went about their daily lives and sometimes went to the temple. But it was just that. It was a part of everyday life. It wasn’t an obsession. These Indians did not say a mantra all day long. They did not listen to endless lectures about whichever God they focussed on. Their Hinduism was therefore mild and gentle and the reason for this is that it was theirs. It was their culture. This western imitation however, was as far away as possible from ordinary life. I saw a lot of intelligent Russians dressing up in face paint and wearing saris, pretending to understand something that they were not. They imitated and aped what they thought Indians would do, but they were all deeply undercover. They all played a role, just as much as I did. They all had their funny sounding Indian names, but in a few days they would return to ordinary Russian life. For many of them this was just a sort of role-playing game. They came here because there was an emptiness in their life and this somehow filled it. Many of them I knew did not take it all that seriously. I had had a few words with Vera and she’d made it clear that she was just interested in Hare Krishna as another form of esotericism.  It went along with her ankhs and her crystals and whatever else she could dream up. She was therefore quite safe and in no need of rescuing. She still lived with her parents, I think.

But Galina took these things seriously. There was an intensity about her. There always had been. I think also there was a greater emptiness in her than in the others. Her need was greater and so she had searched harder. Only love could fill this emptiness. Only David could.

He could get through to her. I knew that during their walk in the woods he had got through to her. The Hare Krishna smile had gone. Her eyes had flashed like they had done when he’d first met her. She’d stopped saying her mantra. Only he could make her stop saying it forever.

The mantra was the key to the brainwashing. There had been a discussion one night about the difference between telling the rosary and saying the mantra. David had said that when he said his rosary, he focussed both on himself and on the object of his prayer. He didn’t lose his self and that was not his goal.  That was not his tradition and it was not his path. In this way he explained the differences between what he believed and what the others believed without criticising. This was always his way. The criticism was implied, never stated. He defended his beliefs ably and showed how they were incompatible with the Hare Krishna beliefs.  In doing so he pointed out where following Krishna led, but it was always up to the Krishna follower to conclude that this wasn’t the path and this wasn’t the direction.

Yet, despite his able defence, I worried about David, too. I saw him get rather too involved in the practices. Even if he was only there to see Galina, I saw his eyes glaze over like hers did during the singing and especially during the dancing. Sometimes in the discussion he was willing to concede a point that I would not have conceded. Sometimes I wondered how far he would be willing to go for love. I didn’t think he had any limits.  Galina had got him to come in the first place because she knew that he loved her. How much was she willing to use that leverage? If she offered love in exchange for following her path, would he take the offer? I wondered. I rather thought that he would. But then I also thought he would just be going under deep cover. Yet I worried for this was a very dangerous game to play. His love could rescue Galina, but it was a two- edged sword. Her love, or even perhaps the promise of her love, could take him places that were not quite safe. Even if he was in deep cover, there is always the danger of going native. At what point does pretending to be a Hare Krishna amount to being a Hare Krishna? Saying the mantra all day will block out any other thought and any other self. Eventually, the person who infiltrates the mafia, finds that all their friends are in the mafia and their assumptions, even their actions are mafia actions. At this point the cover can become so deep that it ceases to be cover at all.

I told him a little of my own love for my husband as a way of expressing sympathy for his difficulty. The path of love is not always easy and it can be necessary to do what it takes. I described how I had met Petr in Denmark, how we’d got together and how we wrote letters after that when he’d gone back to Russia. But our situation had seemed hopeless. I couldn’t visit him and he couldn’t visit me. But he had been able to arrange it so that he could get back to Denmark some months later and I had faced a choice. I didn’t know him terribly well. We had spent only a few weeks together and I would be going to a place I had never been. I had to face some rather difficult moral choices too. I had to gain permission from some people in Cambridge who had invested a lot of time and effort in me. I had some rather difficult and intense discussions with Russians both in Copenhagen, and later in Moscow and Kaliningrad. It wasn’t easy for our love to find its place. I took some risks. There were times, especially in the early years, when I was frightened. I have faced some very scary people over the years, but I picked a path through them, because I knew what my path was. But most of all I knew that I had love.

It was because of love that Petr and I were able to find a way to be together. Without that I would not have even considered going to the Soviet Union.  But given that I did have love, I would not have even considered not going. It is love that changes everything. It motivates in a way that nothing else can. But the point is that I knew that Petr loved me. I could see it. It was not a role that he played, nor was it a role that I played. You can’t fool someone on this, not for long.

I told David some of this, both as encouragement, but also as warning. If he could win her love, it would be worth doing anything for Galina. Of course, it was worth flying to see her, just for the chance of it. But it must be two-way traffic. There was a feeling between them, but after all, in the end, she had said ‘No’. The realisation of this sometimes hit him. It wasn’t always, but when tired, when our conversation became full of feeling, I could see that he had found a sadness here, outside Moscow. Part of him wanted to stick it out, but another part was inclined to give up and go. After a couple of drinks he began once more to express regret at coming. I thought it worth him staying on and seeing what might happen.

“A proposal sometimes does something to a woman,” I said. “It makes it clear that you are serious. You have flown a long way and now you have proposed.”

“But she turned me down.”

“Yes, she turned you down. But she will feel flattered. And, moreover, she will be thinking about that proposal. Give her a chance. Sometimes women need a little time.”

“It’s like something out of Jane Austen.”

“Do you mean this turning down a proposal as a matter of form? As if it’s necessary to say ‘No’ two or three times, because that’s the way it’s done?”

“It used to be that way I think out of a sort of feminine modesty. It was expected. It was part of the language game that they played.”

“I rather think Galina is a little like that, but also like a heroine in one of these novels: she is scared of love. It must have been something like the great unknown in early 19th century England and rather scary, too, given the chance of death in childbirth. I don’t know how far you can take the analogy, but it’s not a bad one. That’s why she loves Krishna so much. It’s a way of loving and, perhaps, being loved without being touched.”

“Is she scared of that side of things?”

“Something happened to her one summer a few years ago, she went from looking like a model to more or less looking like she does now. She went from being someone who wanted to attract a man to someone who wanted to repel all advances.”

“She does that with me, too.”

“No, David, I suspect you are closer to her than any man alive. You are the one chance she may have of ordinary love. She is very close indeed to loving you intensely.”

“Do you really think so?”

I said I did, but I wasn’t sure. But I thought there was a chance. He was the best card I had to play. Otherwise, I would have to play the last card. I thought he could save her. Anyway, I had seen that she, too, sometimes glanced at him. She was less indifferent than she sometimes pretended. 

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The love song of the dark lady IX

Previously

Chapter 9

I’d noticed with approval David and Galina’s absence from the afternoon secession. So too I think did certain others. Was it just my imagination, but I thought I detected some rather Victorian looks of disapproval from some of Garudi’s friends. It was only later and indeed not only by means of various conversations, but also by letters from David that I found out what happened that day.

He’d been fairly passive with Galina up until that point and had accepted the few scraps that she had thrown his way, but he was sick of the whole situation and minded to get out. For the first two or three hours when they had first met at the airport, it had been great and he’d been delighted that he’d made the trip, but since then it had been a disaster. He told her straight that if he had in any way guessed it would be like this, he would never have come. He was paying a fortune for a room that was freezing. He slept in multiple layers of clothes and still woke up from the cold. He could barely eat the food that was served. But he would have endured all this if only they could spend some time together.

Galina explained that it was an important time for her, a time that she treasured. She worked in a rather dull office job and saved all her money so that she could go on these retreats. It was the next best thing to being in India. He asked her about what it had been like there and she described a nunnery somewhere with an old nun who had acted as her guide and her friend. She had spent months there, hardly able to communicate and yet they had found a special bond and a way of understanding each other.

David did not wish to be critical of her beliefs. He said that there were parts of the service that he enjoyed. He liked the songs, he liked the dancing. He even liked, to an extent the discussion, but he felt under attack. From her e-mails he had in no way imagined this. He had guessed that she was interested in eastern religion, but he had thought he was going to stay with a group of friends who were going to chat. He had thought that the two of them would have had time to be alone, time to become the friends they were again, time to find out about what they had been doing. He told her it was as if he had invited her to a revival meeting with the intent of converting her to follow the Lord. He felt deceived.

By this point he’d got Galina back. Her eyes were flashing. She was speaking Russian quickly and by default she had agreed to go walking with him. They were walking. The day was sunny, but desperately cold. She pleaded with him to be patient. She would try to spend some more time with him, but it was difficult. For one thing, she had to focus on saying her mantra and on Krishna. She couldn’t make any progress if she was continually thinking of him. All of that sort of thing was Maya or the Veil of illusion. She told of her life in Moscow. How she was regularly asked out by men she came across, but that none of that interested her. She tried her best every day to break through this Maya and spend time with the truth. It was difficult in everyday life. But here where she could say the mantra all day, here where she could listen to words about Krishna, here where she focussed only on these things, she felt herself make progress. So it wasn’t as if she was ignoring him, rather it was that she was focussing on what was most important to her.

“Then why ask me to come here,” he had said.

“Because I wanted you to share what I had found.”

“But why write at all? You remember how I left you in Kaliningrad? I was happy for that to be the end. It was a good end. Why write to me again?”

“I had feelings for you. I couldn’t bear the thought that I would never see you again.”

“You understand why a man writes to a woman for a number of years? You understand why he flies thousands of miles to see her?”

“Yes. I’m not stupid.”

“But you’ve used that fact to get me here. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Why not just say what you mean to say, David. We may as well now that we are in the woods. You spend your whole time writing letters making hints that are fairly obvious, just say what you have on your mind.”

They continued to trudge mechanically through the woods. The snow in places was deep, but it was all clearly man-made. The paths were straight and there were piles of logs neatly stacked, and there were fences. But they focussed only on their conversation.

“I left you never expecting to see you again,” he said, “but you wrote to me. I took that as a sign, that what I had felt was at least in part reciprocated. I thought this thing was worth pursuing.”

“We’d only spent a few afternoons together.”

“I know, but anyway, I was willing to put in the effort to write to you. Do you know how difficult it was in the beginning?”

“I remember your letters were long and more correct than I thought possible.”

“It’s only because of you that I can write.”

“It was your effort, not mine. Come on, David, you’ve already made your preamble. Just say what you want to say. What is it that you want?”

“I want to marry you.”

This shook her. She stopped and he looked at her face. She had expected something like that, but not that.

“It’s impossible, David.”

“You don’t like me?”

“I hardly know you. We met a few times in Kaliningrad and we wrote e-mails, and now you are here. I do like you. Perhaps, more than that.”

“You, too, write to me sometimes of your tender caresses.”

“I do and I mean it. I do think of you in that way. I’m a woman and I sometimes need to think of a man tenderly and I like the idea of a man thinking of me in that way.”

“Is that why we’ve been writing?”

“We started because I couldn’t bear how you had left. I felt humiliated. It was like some sort of defeat. Politeness can be quite a weapon.”

“But writing has given you something you wanted.”

“It has sometimes. You remember when I was in India, I didn’t write for months.”

“Yes. I worried. I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

“I wasn’t sure I would write again. I was so focussed there. I didn’t think of Maya, the world, you, hardly at all.”

“And then sometime after that you begin thinking of me again. But still inviting me here doesn’t make a lot of sense. You knew why I was writing and that I wanted more than just letters. You knew that I wrote because I’m a man and you’re a woman. Why else? You invite me here and know that I will come because I have hope, but you have no intention of fulfilling that hope. It looks a bit like a deception.”

“I don’t think I can fulfil any of your hopes.”

“But why, Galina?”

“I don’t think I can bear to be touched.”

“Then there will be no need for you to be touched, I promise.”

“My God! You are willing to offer that? You would offer marriage without the one thing you desire from me?”

“I want to spend time with you, love you. There are different ways to love.”

“I know, but, David, this won’t work. What could I do in Scotland? And you would tire of this arrangement very quickly.”

“We could go to India, much more regularly than you can.”

“But you don’t want to go to India. What is there for you there?”

“There’s you.”

“David, this is not going to happen. You would marry me hoping that in time I would relent and we would sleep together. What other purpose would you have? As you say you are here because you are a man and I am a woman. It has nothing to do with friendship. Yet you want an arrangement that amounts to friendship. This would make you unhappy and it would make me unhappy.”

“Perhaps, but then why am I here?”

“It’s something we are asked to do. It’s a duty. We must try to get our friends to come to a meeting.”

“So it is a deception?”

“It’s for their own benefit. It’s an act of kindness. But it’s not only this, David. I do like you. I like you in the way not so very different to the way you like me. I wanted to see you. But some women feel differently. We don’t all or always desire in the way that you desire. It wasn’t a deception.”

“I know that, Galina. I know that very well. Don’t worry,” he said.

He saw that he wasn’t going to get any further with this conversation and he was beginning to get cold. But he thought they had made some progress. He knew that she did have some feelings for him. He thought if perhaps they could just spent some more time together, he could bring her round to his way of thinking. He looked for ways of finding hope from this conversation, picked out a word or look that he could latch on to. The main thing is that he had been talking to Galina again, rather than Garudi. She had talked to him as a woman talks who just might come to love. She was reluctant, but he didn’t see her “No” as final. He hoped to overcome the reluctance. He could be patient. He could wait. If only he could spend forever demonstrating his devotion, surely, eventually she would come to see him as a worthy suitor. 

Both of them were deceiving themselves. Galina thought she could make David a Hare Krishna through her love, while he thought he could make her a lover through his love. But love is such that it deceives all of us, especially when it is at its height. In that sense it can indeed be a veil of illusion, but a blissful, though sometimes painful Maya that makes us ignore reality. She had said “No”, she had, practically speaking, said “No, never”. In a nineteenth century novel this would be the moment when it wouldn’t be quite honourable to ask the lady again. But David loved such novels, precisely because even after a definite refusal, it was still sometimes possible to find a happy ending.  So combined with his disappointment, even his sense of futility and devastation, he preserved that tiny spark of hope. He would journey with her, he would try to spend as much time as possible with her, he would write to her, because his love meant that he couldn’t cease to believe in a happy ending. Not yet anyway. He was good at argument and he always thought that logic was the way to woman’s heart. If only he could find the right argument, if only he could find the words to persuade her. There was just some unknown obstacle hindering them, but in romance it was the task to overcome, to view each quest the lady set as a challenge to confound. This dark lady with her raven hair had sent him out into the world to find something. He didn’t even know what he was looking for and she didn’t know either, but it was the condition that would enable them both to love as they both wanted. It would reconcile all difference and bring a happy ending. After all, there had been no deception. There was feeling. There was a chance. But where to look when there are no sign posts and you don’t even know what you are looking for? But no matter, that after all was the quest. That was the riddle the dark lady had set him.

They soon found themselves coming back to reality and the here, and now was that they were in a snowy wood. She asked him which way they should go. He didn’t know. The paths were straight and after a time you came to an intersection, but there was no way of knowing which was the correct path and which was not.

“You’re the man, David. You should know the way back.”

“I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t even focussing on what I was saying.”

“We really must find the path. This isn’t a good situation.”

The situation indeed was quite dangerous. It was minus thirty and already the light was beginning to fade. People in Russia frequently die if they get lost in the woods.  Neither of them had brought with them a mobile. A mobile going off was very frowned upon when the guru spoke, so Galina had left hers in Moscow. David only kept one in his rucksack in case of emergencies. But he naturally didn’t take his rucksack with him for a walk in the woods. So they trudged up paths to see if they could find something that was familiar. But each pile of logs looked like every other pile of logs. They found at one point what looked like an expensive luxurious dacha, but it was deserted.  Besides breaking in there could be no help here and, anyway, breaking into an expensive Russian dacha was not necessarily a straightforward task even for someone skilled in these matters.

The trudging through the thick snow made them both tired and the cold and the emotions they had exerted in their conversation had drained them, but they each knew that they had to keep going. It was an absurd situation. They were less than a mile away from warmth, but they had no idea how to get there. They pretty much chose paths at random. For the first half an hour of the search, David wasn’t particularly worried, but as time went on he began to feel fear. This really would be an absurd way to die, but he began just to sense the possibility of it.

It wasn’t as if they had searched for the way back systematically. Neither of them had been in any sort of state to think clearly. But perhaps someone did guide them back. It might have been Krishna, but David did not believe in purple gods who set out to deprive you of your soul. Who knows what it was that took them back. It may simply have been their own initiative. It may be that they just were not that far away and that mere chance was enough so that within the time span allotted they were bound to make it back in one piece. The situation may not therefore have been in fact so very dangerous. The difference between what is dangerous and what is not dangerous, after all, can amount to mere chance. Which of us has not stumbled on some stairs and thought nothing of a situation which could have been falling head first to who knows what? So this walk in the woods may have been only fleetingly dangerous.

Nevertheless, it was with some relief that they found something that pointed the way back. Here was a woodpile with piece of wood in just that special position that he remembered from when they first began talking of love. That was the path forward, or rather here was the path back to the warmth. 

“This way,” he said. “I know where I’m going now.”

“Thank God!” said Galina.

Within ten minutes they were in the warmth answering questions about where they had been. There were some looks of disapproval. But David thought Galina only cared about being warm and safe.

Something had changed that afternoon, not merely because they had had one of those conversations that happen rarely in life, but because they had shared an adventure. What had been unspoken had been said and that changed things utterly. 

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