Orange Sunshine

Orange Sunshine, the original orange colored tablet that revolutionized a generation. I found mine from an American tourist, smoking a chillum in the park, near the Hanuman Mandir, in Connaught Place, in New Delhi. We had met a couple of times in the past week, as random strangers in a random universe. Both were drawn to the familiar smell of good hashish, smoked in the passing clay pipes, with wet rags to inhale the smoke and fill lungs. We lived in a world where we believed, in the abundance of life and good companionships. There we became friends, as is possible sitting with red eyes and just talking, in the beautiful green gardens of Delhi and re discovering our universe. I offered him some downers and some speed for free from my private stash, in friendship, and he smiled.

My new friend then generously offered me a gift of the time (for a small rupee fee), from his cotton satchel, he carried his valuables in. We sat there enjoying the day, surrounded by all its flowers, in the springtime. An orange tablet from a small box of many more, he reverently gave me mine, bowed to Hanuman Ji in the temple, and said “Jai Sri Ram”. He smiled, benevolent as ever; and gave me the simple instruction, to keep it under my tongue at the appropriate time; and enjoy.  The stone wall of the old city all around the garden, which stood tall since centuries, was still saving this natural oasis, in a bustling city. There I inherited the left over tablets from the city stranger, which invited us to wear flowers in our hair, when we visited. I bowed low to my friend as I left, to ride my Lambretta, back home. The city of Delhi still attracted the latest pleasure our world had to offer, in exchange, for some of the wisdom and spiritual wealth of our people

On ingesting the tablet I guess one changes one’s perception, of what as a student my role is, in The University of Delhi. I lay in St Stephen’s common room and listened to Steppenwolf and the tracks from ‘Easy Rider’. Someone came and started playing one of the Woodstock LPs, on the turntable. The culture was changing, as I drifted into a Hostel room in SRCC, where someone was twanging away on an acoustic guitar, and singing Bob Dylan’s ‘The Times they are a changin’. One walked back to my Alumnus Ramjas and then across the Rose gardens, to the Cricket grounds. There in the Viceroy’s oldgrounds the annual tussle; between St Stevens and Hindu College’s sports teams, was in full flow. The sunshine had cleared the morning fog, and the men in white looked so elegant, as they stood their ground, in the innings of a lifetime. Some girls from Miranda passed giggling and talking and you got distracted, and passed out of the crowds, and into the lonely ridge.

The brambles and the stunted trees of the Aravalli hillock made for tough hiking, as one avoided the thorns. As one rose up above the University one could now endeavor to seek peace. One’s senses became alert in a different manner, as one walked alone in the wood. A snapping twig sound, aroused a different reaction than Jimi Hendrix playing a psychedelic ‘Star Spangled Banner”. Alert and aroused in nature is very different, from being in a large social human gathering. The seeker seeks everywhere and then comes back to find himself.

Our journey is to arouse and satisfy the same insight and hope, which is universal, and shared by all. Here one is closer to oneself and one’s universe and compassion and love can flow easily. The gift showed me that the sun shines bright, and one is happy, in this buzzing reality. One feels ones whole universe and the self is wiped out and we become part of the pulsating energy of universal life. Suddenly I am whole in a manner I have never been and everything becomes me, and I become everything. I find a grassy patch under an ancient tree to just be, here, now. Slowly my breathing is the force of the primordial universe. I just lean back against the ancient tree of wisdom, and wonder, where is Rip Van Winkle, when I need him? Enjoy…..

All of life is a foreign country. -Jack Kerouac, author (12 Mar 1922-1969)

“Demand for acid was high, and Billy Hitchcock, enterprising as ever, sensed an opportunity. He introduced Nicholas Sand, a Millbrook regular and aspiring underground chemist, to Tim Scully, a whizz kid chemist from Berkeley newly-arrived on the estate. With Hitchcock bankrolling the operation, the two chemists moved to California, set up a lab, and synthesized 3.6 million hits of Orange Sunshine — 250 micrograms of pure LSD bliss that hit the San Francisco streets right on time for the Summer of Love.” Wikipedia on the mansion in NY where Dr. Richard Albert and Dr. Timothy Leary of Harvard spent their summer. These activities happened post expulsion from the University, and before the summer of love in SF.

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About Rajiv Kapoor

Rajiv Kapoor was born in New Delhi. He was educated by the Jesuits at St Xavier’s, and graduated with Honors, from The University of Delhi. Rajiv Kapoor did his MBA in International Business from Penn State and is now settled in the US. He has traveled across most states of India, when he was working on modernization of Rice Mills, and understands their diverse culture and history. This book is a historical fiction, dedicated to his city of birth. His extensive research dives deep into a critical moment, in India’s long history, for his latest Historical Thriller “The Peacock Throne Wars”..

4 thoughts on “Orange Sunshine

  1. An enjoyable, evocative flashback full of enveloping, once-familiar sounds, sights smells, ambition and feelings. Was it really 50 years ago?

    • Yes Meera, it is the Golden Anniversary since 1969, and am thinking of stopping by Yeager’s farm this summer, and listen to some old songs..Time has flown truly well and straight till now, so we must rejoice in our 50th celebration, as we have no choice!

      • Very cool! I hope you will share a snap or two from ‘the farm’. I treasure the vinyl of that iconic pivot in our musical lives.There is happy and sad in this anniversary – choosing positive!

  2. Memories come flooding back of all those days in North Delhi and walking around Delhi U with red eyes and not a care. True Flower children not wanting to grow up and move on……

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