The Final Entry of Nigel Fox dated February 9, 1948 ENTRY 43 -- Clouds of Glory The last thing I recall were his remarks about his watch. I left in a daze, feeling energised, euphoric, omnipotent. One of my episodes must have come upon me. I remember little of the hours or days between my departure, and the awareness that I was sitting on a bench near the train station in my 'English dress', with a sun helmet on my head. My mind cleared momentarily as I sat waiting. Still in my euphoric state, my gaze was drawn to an arresting sight between two vendors, one selling samosas, the other selling chai. There stood the little Sikh boy and his mother, the air round them seeming somehow washed clean in an otherworldly way. The child was
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