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Letter from Savitri Devi to Professor A – 19 January 1981
19 January 1981
It was so kind of you to write to me in spite of my long, long silence. Be sure I reciprocate your good wishes for 1981, most heartily. Tender my best wishes also to Miss M—, whom I was so pleased to meet last year, shortly before that useless operation of mine that I regret so bitterly. I wish I had never gone through it. Sheer waste of money and energy. I gave $400 (four hundred only) for the operation, the anesthetic, and one or two extra doctor’s visits. The operation took place on 13 May 1980 in a clinic whose main eye doctor I know. She recommended me to the doctor who operated — telling me he was “the best” available in Delhi.
After the operation she told me the doctor had said there has been “a little complication” due to the fact that the eye had been suffering from glaucoma (and was operated for that disease on 9 October 1976 already). But on examining the eye the doctor told me it was excellent. And I was glad — expecting to see normally with the prescribed eyeglasses. It is now eight months ago and still I cannot see properly, not even with this glass (supposed to help me in reading and writing; the other “spec” — for “distance” sight, is completely useless). I went to the doctor again (40 rupees for every further consultation!) and was told to come again and another doctor would “examine my field of vision” and propose new specs. In the mean time the other eye — the left one — got glaucoma in its turn, and my first doctor wanted to operate it “at once.” I refused. I continued the eye drops he had given me (pilocar, and neosporin). The same eye is also afflicted with cataracts but still can see, though not to read and write. Naturally the doctor wanted to operate on it also for that — i.e., two operations. I got fed up and thought: to hell with all allopathic doctors and especially surgeons who only think of how they can use the knife. I consulted a homeopath who told me that his medicine — dealing with the whole bodily system — could cure glaucoma but very slowly. I am following the homeopathic treatment. At least it cannot do any harm.
In the meantime — sometime in September 80 — I got a new attack of elephantiasis — my 27th!! since 1936 when I had the first — and I was in bed for weeks (not merely a week like during the other crisis) with a red, swollen, painful left leg. I could have screamed had I tried to put my foot down! To this day both my poor legs are swollen — look as though this skin is going to burst, and if one exerts pressure anywhere on the ankle, feet, calves, etc. the mark (the “hole”) remains for a long, long time, deep in its place. This has been lasting weeks — along with my eye troubles. I can no longer go out into the street save if my servant (I had to employ one at last) takes me by the hand and guides me like a blind person (I am half blind, let’s face it!). For I cannot see the cars and other vehicles in the street until they are on me; and I stumble at each footstep as I cannot see the stones under my feet.
This is my situation. I still had a French class at the Delhi section of the United Nations twice a week: 400 rupees a month; just my servant’s salary per month, for he has to do so many jobs for me now, apart from feeding the stray cats, and mine. From June 1980 I was dismissed from that job of teacher of the personnel members of the U.N. interested in French: that was exactly when I took on the servant, unable to do without him on account of my eyes. Probably my state of health (eyesight especially) is the cause of my dismissal. Whether there are other causes also, I was not told. I was just told my services were “no longer necessary.”
I am pulling on. But it is months since I have not touched what I intended to write — and began to write — as my next (and probably last) book.
I have had no news of Françoise Dior whatsoever, since the most sincere condolence letter I sent her in ’79 after she had told me (after a long silence) that her beautiful, 20 year old daughter (and only child, Christiane de Caumont LaForce) had committed suicide on 4 July 1978, by hanging herself — (A ghastly sight for whoever discovered her body!)
Françoise did not tell me the reason of that act of desperation; maybe she does not know all the truth about it, herself.
Sorry — most sorry — to hear that you have also troubles with your health. Still, whatever these troubles be, thank your stars if you have a good eye-sight and can read and write without difficulty. I see as through a mist, a haze — which is most irritating.
Again, let me thank you for your kind gifts — your 2 gifts of $200 each. With that I could afford to pay for my operation and although I am bitterly disappointed, I suppose it is better to see things in a mist than not at all! I bless you just the same for your kindness.
Please send my love to M—. How is she? If she intends to marry, is she to choose herself a mate for the journey of life — un compagnon de route pour la vie — in U.S.A. or in Japan? If I were in her place, I should remain single — life can be just as good as with a family, provided one has something to live for. Well Mr. Mukherji and I had such a life, — under the same roof, yet apart — and happy. The Führer of all Aryans was the great link between us.
With the best of greetings and renewed good wishes
Savitri Dêvi Mukherji
 A’s daughter was half-Japanese.
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