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hippies are sprawled lit by one light bulb and on a mat covered with a flowered spread in the center sit Galpal, a tabla player and a boy with a harmonium. Ganja is being passed frequently. Galpal is thin, long faced, drinks a bit too much and is in command. His moods flash and dominate the occasion, he is temperamental and being a great artist who still has to play in whore houses for Rs. 5 a night makes up for his privations by dramatic character. His face is one of the most expressive. He banters lightly while tuning up. Tuning always seems to take a long time with Indian instruments. So you lose the sense of a beginning, there are endless sounds, you grow bored, the harmonium used as the drone instrument goes on eternally, the tuning continues, and suddenly you realize 'the piece' has started, when you cannot exactly say. But it has started. He plays magnificently in perfect control and freedom, a balancing act hard to bring off. His face reflecting every mood of

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the music, a bit overdone perhaps but somehow suitable to him. The Serengi has a much fuller sound than the violin and reaches for more levels of feeling. He plays under, around, above the harmonium and tabla, against the other instruments but never out of bounds always with a perfect, wholeness, completeness, a feeling of the overall impression.

The hippies, for the most part a sad looking group are turned off and on in relays. The first number over he plays a short piece not quite as well and a break is taken. Galpal orders some of his sidekicks around, pan is brought, more wine, most of the hippies start to leave.

One of the hippies David C. speaks not very understandable Hindi, (he had arranged the thing) and thinks he owns Galpal. It grows later. Galpal is persuaded to play another piece after he pretends to pack up. This piece is played badly, showily, with gallery tricks, temper tantrums break out between David C and Galpal - Galpal declaring he won't play anymore, relents