"Nightly he slept with women

But never lost his chastity."

* * *

"If these are words about holy things," you demanded of the lama, "why are they always the same? Why are they so dull? So sweet? There is no truth in them! They are not words at all!" The monk made as if to sniff. "Why do you not go," he said, nodding towards the door, "And ask Dai Goro Bogdu?" You nodded in agreement. You snapped back, and left. "Yes," you had said, "he's more likely to tell me the truth." So, you in that other body, that body of Nyima's, left. You heard that monk call after you. "Consider carefully," he said. "Dai Goro Bogdu will only give you one view of the shape of truth." You did not answer.

* * *

Her eyes. it was her eyes. Large and dark. They made you forget everything else except, perhaps, her lips. These parted below, wet, and as if holding her breath. They saw but did not seem to ascribe meaning. Or the meaning easily seen she did not accept. They glanced sideways and quickly back, fixed upon your face. her breathing became your breathing. It was a long time before she spoke. And only then in answer to your question. "Who are you?" She whispered almost imperceptibly, "Pema," and your heart stopped beating.

* * *

Golden thread twisting in the darkness. How easily could it be broken? Would he attempt to do that? No. I don't think so. No, but, then, I don't know.

* * *

Ayesha! Listen! I haven't got much time right now. No, it is not an excuse. I'm going to confront the blue man. He's dangerous, and I have to pay complete attention. What have you got to say? Oh, yes. My body, yes. My body back there. It's in your living room and nobody notices? Yes, very clever. Hurry up. Tell me how. I've got to go. Standing up? Curious indeed. In a sarcophagus, as a mummy? Oh, I see. But listen, Ayesha, make sure the wrappings are not too tight in case, I mean, when I come back I don't want to be all tied up. Yes. Yeah. Sure. Say hello to your boyfriend. I've got to go. Blue man, coming up!

* * *

"I'm not going anywhere near your mountain," I had told Dai Goro Bogdu before he left the vicinity of the Mt. Kailash Nd-Drwa. "Very intelligent of you," said Geshe Sengey. "He is very dangerous. Now come with me to my abode and meet my chela, Nyima." "Okay. Yes. Sure," I said. "Why not?"

* * *

In the darkness, the self-acclaimed god arose as a great dark thundercloud. It rose and tumbled, tumbled and rose. There were no thunderclaps and there were no lightnings. Surprisingly, considering how much motion seemed to be evident in this cloud, there was no wind. "Impressive," I shouted, as an ant might to a boulder. "But when you are finished with the circus, appear so we may talk." "Pah!" spat the cloud, without, of course, my feeling any moisture, "you are an unappreciative audience!" With that, it shrank to human size, and human shape. Dai Goro Bogdu appeared. The sense of the rising and tumbling blueness was there, unseen, as if moving beneath the nude surface of his body. The image still contained power, but I was careful not to let him see that it impressed me. His white lips spoke. "I do not know why I waste my time with you!" he snarled. "Put away your acting," I suggested, guessing and bluffing at the same time. "There is nothing else that you have to do with it." "You are disrespectful," he squinted. "Lucky for you that," I pointed out, "else you would have no challenge, and be bored as you have been for centuries."

His face became a tumbling blue blur, as if to hide his features. But soon his features focused again. "It must be tiresome for you," I continued, sensing that I was on the right track, "having worshippers who obey and fear you." "Of course they fear me," he boomed, avoiding the main meaning of my sentence. "I am the great, awesome..."

Laughing, I interrupted, and finished his string of words for him. "And powerful, Wizard of Oz! Who dares come before me thus!" The blue man did a somersault, vanishing. in a moment he was above me, then seconds later to my rear, left, right and front and quick succession, all the while roaring a great beastial sound. I thought fast and held my ground, not giving an indication of fear. If he were going to destroy me, I quickly reasoned, I would have been gone in the first blink. I had to hold on. "Hold on," I said. "Don't let him bluff you!"

When he returned to my front, things grew quieter. I had guessed right. He needed me for something. I did not know what. "You may kneel now," he said, pointing before him. "Uh uh," I thought. "Fat chance of his getting that. It would be the end of me." When I did not move, he seemed to take this for timidity or paralysis from fear. "Kneel!" he commanded, his fingers growing hot and dropping sparks down near his feet. It was impressive, I have to admit, especially as the fire began to puddle about him and come burning in my direction. "No thank you," I smiled. "I've had enough of that!" He scowled, inhaling and exhaling heavily, as if to fuel the flames with this new breath.

And whether or not it was thus fueled, it did grow and very quickly. Encircling me, it began to climb, as a cylinder, enclosing me. I was surprised by its terrible coldness which immediately began to numb me into immobility. My feet and hands could not move. My heart seemed to beat slowly. My lips were numbing fast, so that soon I would not be able to speak. His red encircled blue eyes twinkled as he smiled. "Merely beg of me, by name, and you will be freed."

I knew he was lying, but I did not know what to do. In a last exhalation, before it was too late, I shouted "I'll call upon my god! He will defeat you!" Dai Goro Bogdu merely laughed. "I have disconnected all gods' powers. Only my name will save you! Speak!"

So then, I had no choice. I had to play my cards in this deadly poker game. I shouted, teeth chattering, "Geshe Thubten Sengey! Save me!" I thought for a moment that I had frozen to death, but it was just the intense frozen silence which made me believe this. But even that faded. I opened my eyes. The cold fire was gone and Dai Goro Bogdu was flying off into space.

"Fraud! Fraud!" the blue man cried. "He is not god! You cheated! You did not know what you were doing! How could I then anticipate that?" He was soon gone. I scratched my head. He was right, of course, but I was not going to tell him that. But beyond what he said, I still did not know what I had done. Why had it worked? Geshe Thubten Sengey merely laughed when I told him the chain of events. "For such a stupid fellow," he said, "you are very fortunate."

"It must be aeons of accumulated good karma," I joked. But he did not laugh at this. "Do not jest," he said. "One disrespectful jest will make you lose a thousand years of good karma." He waved his index finger at me in a scolding motion. I pursed my lips and smirked. "I've got a lot more than that left." He could not believe what I was saying. "Besides, I can grow more!" At that, he vanished immediately. "Very sensitive," I whispered to myself. "He is not immune to his own verbalized beliefs."

* * *

The knife was found covered with blood.

* * *

When the yak dung with the hand print was dry, it fell from the side of the wall and was gathered for fuel. One thing made with such a fire was the buttered tea of the Tibetans. Without the yak, Tibet would not have its "chips", and without them, fire for tea would be extremely scarce. There were a great number of things which came from the yak. Nothing was wasted. From the female came milk, butter and cheese. From any of the animals transport, human and otherwise. Yak hair made blankets, clothing and tents. The animal ploughed the rocky soil, and gave its flesh, entrails, skin and bones for thousands of uses. Even its tail became famous as a fly whisk. But it was its excretions, lumpy dung, which everyone searched for, gathered and brought home.

* * *

"Why stay here?" inquired the monk. "Come with me," he continued. "Be my guest at my abode north of Lhasa." "You want an invisible guest?" I asked. "Why not?" he laughed. "That sort does not take up much room, and eats very little." "You are so kind<" I answered. "Then you will come?" he asked. "Yes, of course," I replied, looking down at the mountain. "I might as well see more of Tibet."

* * *

Circle. Circle. The sun and the moon. Around Mt. Rirab. My love is as steadfast.

* * *

"Yellow dog," you said, "have you seen me slip out of the palace to go beyond the Naga King's lake, to the tavern at Sho?" It does not matter. What will he say?

* * *

"EREN-NOON-SHIM-TAL" said the wind in the Naga King's park. But what did it mean? The leaves on the trees looked turquoise in the moonlight. The nearby lake's water seemed silver and blue. Nothing stirred immediately after this sound was made. Would the assassins waiting for the Gyalwa Rinpoche and his friend reveal themselves with a cough or a moving shadow? No. Not until it was too late. The knife was ready.

* * *

Susan awoke with a start, trembling. "What is it?" I asked, holding her. "I was dreaming," she said. "I heard Carmella crying, 'The children! The children!', and I heard their cries to their mother, 'Mommy! The Fire! Mommy!' But it was too late." She quivered and shook. "Ah," I exhaled. "But we never heard that!" I said stupidly. "I did," she said sharply, looking up at me, the light from the streetlight revealing her tears. "In my dream, I heard it!"

Mommy! The fire! Mommy!

AUM MANI PADME HUM.

The jewel is in the lotus.

She fell asleep in my arms as I babbled a stream of words. Nothing about the fire. Just about different streets and places in the city, people you might meet, a walk in the woods, trees and rocks. A deer path which you might follow. It was nonsensical enough to lull her to sleep. It was soothing enough even to cause me to drop off into dreamfulness.

* * *

There was a great metal wheel on the gompa's rooftop. "What is it?" I asked. "The wheel of the law, the Dharma of the Buddha, his truth," Geshe Sengey said.

"From here," I thought to myself, looking at the many-spoked wheel, hammered into shape as a two-piece hollow reposse, fitted together as a beautiful flat disc. "From here, Buddha's lump of gold looks very nice." Then, aloud, I asked him, "What are these two homeless creatures on either side looking up at it?" "Deer," he said impatiently, wondering why I couldn't recognize such obviously depicted animals. "They cannot understand his sermons, but they love the sound of his voice. They love his appearance. They love to look."

"Best disciples of all," I thought. But again I did not presume to hit the monk with my stray thoughts. I was beginning to practice restraint. After all, we were on one of the rooftops of Drepung Gompa. It was supposed to be a special place. I gave it special attention.

* * *

"In the SUDDHARMAPUNDARIKA" said Geshe Sengey in explanation to me and Nyima, whose health was failing fast, "there is a chapter about a burning house. A father tries to rescue his children who do not know what fire is. They do not know its danger. They even like it. You must convince them to save themselves." He paused, looking at us. "Yes?" I asked, to encourage him to continue. "He used various expedients, the promise of toys, to convince his children to escape. The Buddha is like that, and the life is the burning house!"

Nyima looked up weakly and smiled. I saw it and did not like it. '"And when they got out," I continued, now more for Nyima's benefit than for my own curiosity, "Did they get the toys?" I asked.

"No," came the surprising answer. "They got the real object! No toys. Covered with jewels, pearls, and lapis lazuli." Nyima was not paying attention any longer. I wondered if the children would rather have had the toys instead of the real thing.

* * *

"Kneel to me!" said Dai Goro Bogdu. "Fat chance," I smiled, to his puzzlement. And although he did not know what that meant, he struck me with a bolt of electricity from his hand. I fell over, feeling excruciating pain, my body arching, my spine almost snapping. I thought that I would swallow my tongue, which would have been the end of me, in more than one way. The charge seemed to lessen and I took advantage of the lull to scream "Mickey Mouse! Save me!" That seemed to jolt the blue man, causing a pause and the lull continued. I took this further time to chant "EENIE MEENIE MYNEE MOE! CATCH A BOGDU BY THE TOE..." He gave a sharp cry, and turned his back upon me. "DAMN you and your gods!" he cried as he fled. But not before I shouted, "When anger arises, it is time to meditate upon patience!" which was something I had learned from Geshe Sengey. But I do not even know if he had heard me.

* * *

Mommy! The fire! Mommy!

AUM ANI PADME HUM

AUM MANI...

SENIOR. SENIORITA.

SENIOR...

* * *

"Lucky that I am merciful," I said. "You are insane!" he scowled. "Now I know how to kill you. You imbecile!" "You are the imbecile," I mimicked, but it was a mistake. I had relaxed and mirrored his comments. I knew it immediately, but it was too late. "I have you!" he shouted, and in spite of myself, my thoughts mirrored that as well. "Dammit! Does he have me or not?" When I felt invisible arms grabbing me, two at my throat, I knew the answer too clearly. "Dammit!" I choked. "EENIE, MEENIE," laughed Dai Goro Bogdu.

* * *

Hang on. Hang on. In the prison it was too late. In the hospital, time had not yet come to an end. "If I could have grabbed the knife hand, I could have stopped it!" I cried to myself. The knife went clattering on the hard stone. But no one found it.

* * *

"The tiger held fast with his teeth upon the branch jutting from the face of the cliff. The rabbit, peering down into the darkness, muttered to himself, "He is so lucky! And he is too close, so I cannot leave him without breaking my word. What shall I do? Tiger, tiger," he cried dramatically, "are you allright?"

The tiger, his mouth clamped to the branch, could only say, "UH. UH. HUM."

"Oh, you sound hurt!" said the rabbit. "Say something clearly so I know that you are allright. Say 'Ah'." The tiger, to please the rabbit, opened his mouth and said "Ah." And he fell down the height of the precipice to his death. 'AH-H-H-H!"

With the telling of this part, Geshe Sengey slapped the floor with the palm of his hand. We both laughed at how the rabbit had tricked the tiger and saved himself. "Are you a rabbit or a tiger?" he asked me afterwards. i did not answer him, unable to think of a clever answer.

* * *

"It is not difficult to become a god," he said. I looked at him in puzzlement. "You just," he said, "have to give up compassion. You just live, just live, and it will be comfortable. Don't pay too much, if any, attention to suffering. In fact, get energy from the indifference to it." "But," I asked, "what about magic and miracles?" "That is part of the exchange," he said. "You have to give up something. Miracles are too agitation for serenity. Indifference works better." "Dammit," I muttered, not completing my sentence, "the suffering of children!" "Exactly," he whispered back. "Many would make that exchange." "Not me," I muttered, as if to myself. "Do not be too sure," he said. "Remember, as a human being you too feel suffering." "Dammit," I repeated, my feelings in a whirl. "But as a god, I could do so much!" "Are you so sure of that?" he asked.