Beatles (44 page)

They’d taken pep pills, of varying strengths, ever since their Hamburg days. They’d had occasional marijuana cigarettes as other people have a drink. None of them drinks, apart from wine with a meal now and then.

George and John were introduced to LSD, through a dental friend, in 1965, without realizing they had been given it. ‘It was as if I’d never tasted, talked, seen, thought or heard properly before,’ says George. ‘For the first time in my life I wasn’t conscious of ego.’

Taking drugs didn’t stop their music. Now that they were all back together again, having found that things like acting didn’t work, they began work on their most ambitious album so far, which showed traces of their interest in drugs. This was
Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
.

During this session, they also got the idea for a TV film. For over a year they’d been putting off doing their third film, at the same time as they were putting off other things they didn’t care for, like touring and appearing. Many scripts had been written, then rejected, one of them by the late Joe Orton. (He was an intense Beatle fan, and ‘A Day In The Life’ was played at his funeral.) Eventually, they came round to the idea of writing and doing a film by themselves, just to see if they could do it.

Paul thought of the idea of a TV film in April, flying home from visiting Jane on her 21st birthday in the States, where she was on tour with the Old Vic. He thought they would all get onto a bus and just see what happened. It would be Magical, so they could do what they wanted. And Mysterious, as no one would know where they were going or what they were going to do. That was as far as he got then. The others agreed to it, but no further work was done on it for almost six months.

George, by this time, was well immersed in Indian music, which also shows in
Sergeant Pepper
, but he’d also become very knowledgeable about Indian religion. His wife Pattie was with him in all this. In fact, it was she who first had any contact with the Maharishi.

She says that their interest in religion had started by chance, during their trip to India in September 1966. This had been simply to study Indian music with Ravi Shankar, which again had started by chance. During the film
Help!
there is a scene in which there are some unusual musical instruments. George, bored by filming, had amused himself by trying to play one of them, which turned out to be a sitar.

In India, apart from studying the sitar, George also met Ravi’s spiritual guru, Tat Baba, who explained the law of Karma (the law of action and reaction). ‘Meeting him and reading
Autobiography of a Yogi
, as well as the seven weeks with Ravi, were more spiritually rewarding than anything that had come before, even drugs.’

Back home, George and Pattie were reading many books about religion, an interest which had been first roused after George’s first LSD experience. He had begun with Aldous Huxley and gradually moved further into Eastern concepts.

In February 1967 Pattie had become a member of the Spiritual Regeneration Movement, on her own. George did go once, around the same time, but wasn’t initiated, as he didn’t feel it was right for him. ‘I’d been trying to teach myself meditation from books,’ says Pattie, ‘but only half doing it. One day a girlfriend told me about transcendental meditation and I went
along to a lecture at the Caxton Hall. Maharishi himself wasn’t there, just someone else talking about his work, but I joined the movement then. The lecture wasn’t very inspiring, but transcendental meditation seemed an obvious and simple process. I got all the movement’s literature from then on, so I knew about their summer conference at Bangor.’

George, in the meantime, was not only telling the others about what he was reading, he was now also looking round the world for some wise learned man to explain things and put him on the right track.

George even trailed down to a deserted part of Cornwall, after he’d read a book on cosmic communication, and spent several hours climbing a high hill, but nothing happened. He heard of many other people, Indian and Western, and their ideas, but no one seemed to him to be the right one, until Maharishi.

It is important to stress that all of them were already very knowledgeable, long before Maharishi came along. He didn’t convert them, or reach out and direct them, or even tell them much they didn’t know. He chanced upon their lives, just at a time when they were looking for him.

All this spiritual groping didn’t stop them from doing their normal Beatle work. They did a song, ‘All You Need Is Love’, in July 1967 for a worldwide programme
Our World
, which was seen live by over 150 million people.

Their spiritual awakening did have one concrete effect. By August 1967 they had given up drugs. By actively thinking, reading and discussing spiritual matters, they decided that artificial stimulants like drugs were no real help. It was better to get there without them. They don’t regret having been on drugs. They say it was useful for them at the time, but is now no more. But it was nothing to do with Maharishi that they gave up drugs. They’d already done so on their own before they met him. He simply confirmed and gave more lucid reasons for their decision.

It was ironic that all the acres of heavy print from leader writers and doctors, warning about drugs – after Paul and then Brian
admitted they’d had LSD – had been ignored, but their own gropings into religion had worked.

In mid-August 1967 it was suddenly advertised in several newspapers that Maharishi was in London and would be giving a public lecture. ‘This seems to have been a sudden decision,’ says Pattie. ‘It wasn’t in any of our literature that he was in London, or even coming to our Bangor conference. When I heard, I said to George, look, we’ve got to go.’

But by this time George had already heard, from other people, that Maharishi was in town. He contacted the others and said they must all go to his lecture at the Hilton Hotel.

This was on the Thursday evening, 24 August 1967. Afterwards, Maharishi invited them to join his movement’s summer conference at Bangor on Saturday. They said yes.

They told Brian Epstein about Maharishi and his transcendental meditation movement and how impressed they were by it all. Brian said he was interested. He might come up later during the conference, which was scheduled to last ten days. But he was more concerned with having an exciting August Bank Holiday weekend at his country home with a few new friends.

The news leaked out that the Beatles were going to Bangor with the Maharishi. What they thought was going to be a private, spiritual experience, developed into a carnival. It was almost like their touring days again, which they thought they’d given up for ever a year ago.

Euston Station was crowded with thousands of sightseers and press, who had turned out to watch the Beatles off on what the
Daily Mirror
called next day, a ‘Mystical Special’, or the 3.50 stopping train to Bangor, North Wales.

There was such chaos that Cynthia Lennon was left behind on the station platform, unable to get through the crowds to join John. A policeman forcibly held her back, thinking she was a fan.

On the train, jammed tight in a first-class compartment, were John, Paul, George and Pattie and Ringo, plus Mick
Jagger, Marianne Faithfull and Jennie Boyd, Pattie’s sister. Ringo was a late starter. His wife Maureen had just had their second child and was still in hospital. It wasn’t clear if he would join them. ‘I rang Maureen in hospital. She said I had to go. I couldn’t miss this.’

The decision to go had been very sudden. Brian Epstein knew about it, but he wasn’t involved in any way. Even the ever-present Mal and Neil hadn’t been brought along. For five years they’d never gone anywhere without Brian Epstein or someone looking after them. ‘It’s like going somewhere without your trousers on,’ said John.

They sat tight for several hours, scared to go to the lavatory in case they got mobbed. They had no idea what had happened to their luggage. No one seemed to have any money. They wondered what Maharishi would tell them. John said perhaps he might just turn out to be another version of what they already knew, but on a different label. ‘You know, like some are on EMI and some on Decca.’

Very seriously, George said he didn’t think so. He was sure this was going to be it. Mick Jagger sat very quiet and serious. John said he hoped it would save him having to go on working as a Beatle, if the Maharishi told him to go off and sit in a cave in India for the rest of his life. ‘But he won’t, I bet. He’ll just say go away and write “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds”.’

In another compartment, the Maharishi was sitting cross-legged on a white sheet laid out on the seat by his followers. He bounced up and down when he laughed, which was most of the time. He admitted he’d never heard any Beatle music in his life. He had been told they were very famous, and so was Mick Jagger, but he got very confused about him being a Rolling Stone. He didn’t know what that meant.

The Beatles eventually went into his compartment. He laughed a great deal as he chatted with them. He illustrated his talk by taking a flower in his hand and saying it was really all sap. The petals on their own were an illusion, just like the physical life.

He said that transcendental meditation, which he would indoctrinate them into at Bangor, was simply a method of quickly and easily reaching a spiritual state. His meditations, once learned, need only be practised for half an hour every morning. That would be enough for the day. He said it was like a bank. You didn’t need to carry money around with you if you had a bank, you just needed to pop in now and again to get what you wanted.

‘What if you’re greedy,’ said John, ‘and have another half hour’s meditation after lunch, then slip in another half hour after tea?’

Everybody laughed. The Maharishi nearly bounced his head against the ceiling this time. The Beatles adjourned for tea while the girls and Mick Jagger had a turn with the Maharishi. The attendant roped off part of the dining room for them, but a few people managed to break through for autographs.

‘What you going to Bangor for?’ asked two teenage boys, unable to believe that anyone would want to go to Bangor, least of all the Beatles. ‘Are you playing there?’

‘That’s right,’ said Ringo. ‘On the Pier Head at 8.30, Second House. See you.’

At Flint Station Ringo said that Flint had been the furthest he’d ever cycled on his bike from the Dingle.

Bangor was pandemonium. The Beatles considered going on to the next station, then getting a taxi back. But Maharishi said if they stayed beside him, they’d be all right.

On the platform, rather lost and bemused amongst all the screaming kids, was a handful of Maharishi’s followers, waiting to welcome him to the conference. They were each clutching a flower, ready to hand to him. They were bowled aside by the crowds, screaming at the Beatles.

Bangor is a small seaside town on the north coast of Wales. It has a large training college, which was where the conference was being held. Over 300 meditators were already in residence, all unaware of the Beatles’ arrival.

Maharishi himself seemed to be enjoying all the commotion and excitement. He was very kind and considerate to all the press and TV men. He very smartly agreed with them to have a press conference, after he’d spoken privately to the conference members.

Maharishi’s philosophy, very simply, is that life consists of spiritual as well as materialistic values. He is not in favour of becoming a spiritual recluse, cutting oneself off from the world. But he says that without spiritual consciousness, it is impossible to lead a full life, or to fully enjoy materialism. In a way, it is a simple blend of Eastern mysticism and Western materialism. You don’t have to give up money or even the pleasures of the flesh, within reason, to become one of his followers, but you have to learn his methods of spiritual realization. This helps you to transcend yourself, although still continuing to live an ordinary life.

At his private meeting he asked his 300 followers how they were getting on in their meditations. One man asked if it was possible still to hear motorcars during meditation.

The press conference, afterwards, was confused and unsatisfactory. The press, mainly local stringers of national papers, had little idea what was going on. They thought the Beatles must be involved in some publicity stunt. They couldn’t believe they were serious about Maharishi, whoever he was. They were belligerent in their questions, almost as if they expected the Beatles to admit they were just doing it all for a laugh. The Beatles were cheered loudly by the congregation when they made it clear, at the expense of the press’s ignorance, that they were very serious indeed.

John found a reporter’s notes afterwards in one of the college’s telephone booths. It had the heading ‘Paul, George, Ringo, John Lennon and Jagger’ plus details of what each had been wearing. ‘You’ve taken over from me,’ said John to Mick Jagger, pointing out to him how the reporter had named each of them. ‘I just used be called Lennon when I was wicked. Now
I’m John Lennon. I haven’t yet reached the next stage of just being John. You’re still Jagger.’

By midday on the Sunday they all had been indoctrinated. They were all resting, after their mental efforts, when the news about Brian Epstein’s death came through. Maharishi saw them all again, to help and comfort them, to cheer them up and explain how little death meant. Then they all went back to London by car, missing the rest of the conference.

They were due, originally, to go out to India to be with the Maharishi in September 1967, but it was put back to February 1968 for various reasons, such as
The Magical Mystery Tour
.

They and NEMS were a bit perturbed by the way various organizations suddenly sprouted up and tried to get them to give a press conference. They were even talking about selling press and TV rights to cover the Beatles’ trip to India, and setting up an official press office, long before the Beatles had made up their minds when to go. Maharishi’s public relations people were very keen on this.

An Indian official arrived, sent by the Indian government, and went to NEMS saying he had organized visits for them to six Indian states, and that he was going to arrange for them to meet Mrs Gandhi, the prime minister of India. Any sort of publicity for their religion or anything else is the last thing the Beatles ever want, although no one will ever believe this.