The Epic of Gesar of Ling

by Robin Kornman

  The mother thought, “The guru had told me that I did not have to take precautions in guarding him.” Besides that she thought, “He’s just a magical emanation, so whatever he does is fine.” And so she sat there without any anxiety. That day early in the morning Joru went to the encampment of Tag-rong and emanated himself to appear just like Amnye Gompa Raja, and at the entrance to his tent he sang this song to Tag-rong Trothung:

  It’s Ala Ala Ala,

  And Thala leads the melody.

  All you most powerful protectors of the dark side

  Help Amnye today to sing this song.

  If you don’t recognize this place,

  It’s the midlands of Trothung’s campground.

  If you don’t recognize me,

  I’m Gompa Raja.

  I’m the butcher who killed the demon Joru.

  Listen here, it’s like this.

  That demon child called Joru—

  Is he the messenger of divine Padma?

  I heard that he is the lineage son of the nyen Gedzo

  And the grandson of the nāga Tsugna.

  They say he is unrivalled,

  Yet you Tag-rong have such great merit

  And I have such great power and ability

  That I have cut the cord of his red life-essence.

  Last night, during the middle watch

  I received an offering to pray for the deceased.

  So I went there and flayed his skin

  And threw his corpse in the rushing river.

  His head was the skin of a god,

  His waist was the skin of a nyen,

  His legs were the skin of the cold-blooded nāgas,

  And his hands were the skin of humans.

  Skin like this is of great value.

  Without the favor of the great merit of Tag-rong

  And the greatness of Amnye’s power and black magic

  It is unthinkable that this would have fallen into our hands.

  When the fine particles

  Of Amnye Gompa Raja’s body dissipate,

  The owner of these skins will be none other than you, Tag-rong.

  Crown the pinnacle of your castle with this human-skin victory banner.

  In the carefree and mighty province of Tag-rong,

  The people are suppressed by Chieftain Trothung, the one who holds control.

  You, a headstrong chief, will destroy yourself as you defeat others

  If you can’t raise your head beyond your fortress, Phorog [Raven Heart].

  In this headstrong fortress, the pillar between earth and sky,

  You can’t raise your head, but you can hoist Joru’s [skin] victory banner.

  That Joru, nasty son of Gogmo,

  Although he possessed the power of a thousand godly demons,

  First of all, he had nothing but white intentions toward me, Amnye,

  Second, he did nothing against Chief Trothung,

  Third, he always intended to repay the kindness of the fathers and uncles.

  For these three reasons, when I cut his throat, he bled milk.

  I regret that I killed this one who was innocent.

  Even though I regret it, it was at your command, King Tro of Tag-rong.

  The reason you gave that kind of command is that

  This day is ruled by the constellation Rohiṇī;

  It’s actually a Rohiṇī Saturday.

  Right now you must hand over the prosperity sack to me,

  But that alone is not enough.

  Although you, Tag-rong, are a garrulous man,

  The one being you shouldn’t have said to kill was the magical child—

  That younger brother of warrior Zhal-lu who you told me to kill.

  And the one thing you should never offer is the empty sack you are offering—

  That empty sack belongs in the hands of a beggar.

  That gift horse without incisors,

  Although it is toothless, still you must accept it.

  So you, chieftain of Tag-rong,

  You own a dung sack and a club.

  That bag and club are suitable for a beggar;

  Now is the time to give them to me, this lowly one.

  Chief Tag-rong, these things are beneath you.

  If not that, then give me the wealth treasure of the national flag

  And the seal of Mukpo Dong;

  Then you can keep your hobo’s bag and stick.

  If you can’t choose which one to give me,

  Then I’ll throw my three-day torma at you.

  And I’ll tell Chieftain Zhalkar everything!

  What is your fancy, Trothung? Bear this in mind.

  While he was saying that, Trothung recognized that the skin of Joru was hanging over the shoulder [of the imposter Amnye]. The Tag-rong family had a white willow staff that had been given to the Bönpo sage from Zhangzhung by a sky the’u rang.m As the innermost treasure of the godly demons empowered with the words of truth, it was a support for the siddhi of speed-walking and had the power to come and go on its own. Now the time had come that it was necessary for Joru to possess this. The stick and the support of prosperity, a long-life arrow, were tied to a sandalwood post. It was well known that no one at all was allowed to touch them.

  Trothung thought, “Joru’s been killed. Though Amnye seems more controlling than before, I really don’t blame him for that because I did weave some tales between him and Joru. Now he said I must give him both the prosperity bag and the staff! That is taking things too far! I have committed to give the prosperity sack, so there’s no way to renege, but I didn’t say I would give the staff, too. So there must be a way to get out of this. As for the national flag and the seal, how could I think of giving them? Furthermore, as the proverb states:

  Power in another’s hand,

  Is like your own hair caught in a tree branch.

  It’s a way of saying, ‘I’m done for.’ If Gyatsha and Chipön hear of this, not to mention my wife Denza and my son Aten, and so on, it’s certain they will have nothing good to say. So for a while I’ll have to say that I’ll give him whatever he wants; there’s nothing else to do. But before long this guru will grow old; already today he is different from usual. Who knows, maybe it is the black magic of the gods of Ling that has affected him. If that’s the case, then he won’t last long.53 When he dies, then Tag-rong’s own wealth will come back into its owner’s hands. Until then, if I pretend that Tag-rong and Amnye, patron and patronized, are as one, then that’s the key point for making sure that the wealth is not lost into another’s hands. Therefore, since he’s only one single man on his own, whatever I do, it will surely work out.” He thought things over at great length and then he said,

  “Gracious Gompa Raja, sir, since you have accomplished whatever I asked of you earlier, Tag-rong and I can offer you the nine-edged sack and all necessary articles. The thing which is called ‘the Bönpo guru’s staff ’ will be no good for you, since it is the support for Tag-rong’s innermost deity, Hayagrīva. If you take it, it will be no good either for patron or the guru. Instead of that, I’ll give you however much gold and silver you desire.”

  Amnye replied, “Okay, so be it. I don’t want the sack. You can keep both of them, but give me the flag and the seal. Now, out of friendliness, I did you the kindness of affording you a choice between your treasures. Moreover, since this Joru is the inner jewel of White Ling, the younger brother of the chieftain of Bumpa, and since he quells the demons of the dark side, how can these things I ask for possibly suffice as the fee for committing the sin of such a murder? Throughout all this my only thought has been of our old friendship, our familiarity, and the promise of our long-term connection. If I carefully report the details of what has happened here to Gyatsha, Chipön, Sengtag, and, not to mention, the chieftains of the Elder and Middle Lineages of Ling, then it wouldn’t take them even a single day to destroy you, Tag-rong, without a trace remaining. Besides that, I worry about the turmoil that this will create among the brothers and the
cousins, and I have been contemplating the repercussions for the future. Not only that, because you, Tag-rong, are the main person who will take care of my corpse and any legal actions, and even this victory banner of Joru’s, I thought this would benefit you, since I am only thinking about your long-term welfare. It’s important for you to give this careful thought. If you have something to give me, present it now. If you don’t, then I have no choice but to leave and then respond with a double dose of black magic!” He started to leave, saying, “This situation is impossible just like the proverb:

  The business is over,

  But the price is yet to be discussed.”

  Then a frightened Trothung replied, “Don’t do that! I can make the offering. How can there be angry minds between guru and patron?” and he quickly made the offering. “Now Lama, this is my special wealth I’m giving you, don’t let anyone see it. Keep it until it is no longer of use to you. And when the day comes that the benefit of beings has been accomplished, please see that it’s returned to me.”

  “All right, I won’t tell anyone else about this, but Joru has already heard everything, for his skin that I am wearing is still alive. It makes no difference whether you or I keep these things; the day will come when I’ll return them to you. Until then, from time to time I’ll bring them over to your place,” he [Amnye] said.

  Then Trothung looked at Joru’s skin hanging over Amnye’s shoulder and noticed that the eyes were winking and the lips smacking. Just at that moment Amnye got up, turned around, ran off, and completely disappeared. Trothung sat there feeling uneasy and full of doubt.

  At that very moment Joru appeared before his mother. Several days later, Joru said to his mother, “Today my mind feels clearer than ever before, and I feel such delight!” At that very moment Auntie Nammen Karmo manifested as a turquoise bee and, with the buzzing melody of a bee, she sang these words of prophecy:

  I supplicate the gurus.

  The motherly aunt’s prophecy is like this—

  This chieftain of Tag-rong, Trothung,

  When you observe him, his intentions seem evil,

  But whatever he does will be helpful for Joru.

  His incarnation is high; still he has great obscuration from the womb.

  For example, the perverted damsin

  Have entered Tag-rong’s heart;

  If you can’t free him from possession by the damsi,

  The troops of White Ling will stir up internal strife.

  Even if you feel no need to fear the army,

  If there is internal struggle in Ling, the uncles and cousins will destroy themselves.

  It will be difficult for them to find a common ground.

  So now you must go straight to the upper Kyid [Happiness] Valley

  And, pretending that the heretic black magician Gompa has died,

  Put the prosperity bag and the staff in a place where Trothung can see it

  And, pretending that the boulder is the boundary marker of his retreat,

  Be sure it has a hole large enough for a rat to pass.

  Right now Trothung is on his way there;

  Through a magical spell he will enter the cave as a rat.

  Once he gets in bless him so that there is no possibility that the spell will be broken,

  Then, let him disgorge the demonic possession.

  This is not the right time for him to take

  The pill that erases all memories.

  Until he swears by drinking the water of oath

  That he will not deploy the army,

  Do not let him go!

  His actions are two-faced like a ḍamaru,o but,

  When you open the gates of the twelve fortresses, he will be useful.

  My son Joru, keep this in the core of your heart.

  He heard what she had sung, and, arriving at Ciphu through his magical powers, Joru instantly perched on a rock, manifesting as a falcon. Meanwhile Trothung was lost in thought: “What could have happened to Amnye yesterday? Amnye doesn’t have those kinds of miraculous abilities. And what really has happened to Joru? We’ve had no news of him. I don’t know if Joru has miraculous abilities or not.” These thoughts made him feel uncomfortable. He decided that he must go and see what had happened to Amnye, and so he left for Ciphu. Arriving there, he saw that there was blue smoke billowing above the meditation cave, and he thought that Amnye was inside. He went to the entrance of the cave and saw that a great boulder closed the entrance to the door and served as a retreat marker as well and, when he looked more closely at the boulder, there were two small holes that seemed to have been made by a stick. Slyly peeking in through one of the holes, he could clearly see everything within the cave. Amnye Gompa Raja was dead; his head was hanging down and his black hair was disheveled. He recognized the staff and the prosperity bag leaning against the wall on the rock face behind him and he became overjoyed as he thought, “This is the best possible outcome.” Immediately he transformed into a little rat and went into the cave through the hole, but the stick and bag were nowhere to be found. Thinking, “This must be some kind of power of the words of truth,p because I have the body of a rat but I cannot see with my rat’s eyes,” he removed his rat head, and his own head appeared on the rat body.

  He looked all around the cave and saw the remains of a fire and a flood, but the articles, the corpse, and all the rest were nowhere to be seen. At that instant, Joru destroyed the illusion, blessed him so that his magic could be annulled, and Trothung was wrought with fear. “Oh no! It seems that I’ve been done in by a demon!” he proclaimed. “I’d better get out of here,” he thought. He cast a spell to transform his head back into a rat head, but the spell failed and his head would not fit through the hole, even though his body would. He didn’t know what to do. He even prayed to Hayagrīva, but he still couldn’t free himself. Finally, he forced his rat body out through the hole to the other side, but his human head just would not fit. At that very moment Joru arrived at the entrance to the cave.

  Joru said, “This is the cave where the demon Gompa Raja was tamed; it has been made so that even the formless ghosts are not allowed in, much less those who have form. Today there’s a footprint. Whether it was a god or a demon, I’m certain that it got inside.” He rolled the boulder back just enough to allow a rat to pass. He went inside and exclaimed, “Hey, there’s a bearded man’s head here. This demon is certainly the devouring demon. I’m going to have to liberate this spirit as never before.” He picked up the staff and whirled it around above his head. Trothung was petrified, and his mouth began to tremble like leaves blown by the wind. “O dear sweet precious Joru! You are not a man; you’re a divine son of the gods! The gods, the guru, and the yidams, all three, although they may become wrathful, they do not hold on to it. Don’t kill me; I am Tag-rong Trothung. I have overstepped my bounds and made a huge mistake and through my magical powers transformed my own head, so that now I can’t annul the spell. My body can get through, but my head is stuck. Therefore, the fact that you, dear Joru, have come here is a sign that Uncle still has great merit. Save me, save me. Protect my life and save me! I promise to accept whatever you say.”

  Then Joru said, “Oh no! It seems that you are possessed and trembling and that the murderous death spirit has turned on you. If I had come just a little bit later, Uncle, you would have been dead by now. That would have made me very sad. It is as the proverb says:

  Sons and nephews without fathers and uncles

  May be strong, but it is said that they are like a tigress wandering an empty plain.

  The people will use the six-smiled one as a target for their stones.

  That’s what they say. Now come here,” he said, and Trothung tried to pull himself back into the cave, but the rat part of his body was stuck, and he could not get free at all.

  Joru then said, “All the murderous devouring demons are on your waist, because otherwise if a rat’s body can get out that hole, why couldn’t it get back in?” Telling him that he should pray one-pointedl
y to his chosen deity, Hayagrīva, Gesar placed his right hand on Trothung’s head and mentally invoked the deities as he entered into a penetrating samādhi to remove the demonic possession of Trothung’s body. Trothung vomited a two-headed black serpent, and Joru killed the snake while leading its consciousness to the pure realm. At that very instant Trothung easily entered back into the cave.

  “The magic has been annulled, Uncle, but nevertheless you must go. I am also leaving,” Joru said, and he went down the road a little bit. Trothung, fearing that there was no way that the spell had been broken, called after him several times, “Joru, Joru!”

  Joru said, “What?” and came back.

  “Nephew Joru, please put an end to this magic, and I will obey your every command.”

  “I cannot annul magic,” Joru feigned. “However, your own head is attached to a rat’s corpse, Trothung. If we cut it off and then throw away the corpse, Uncle, your real head could be put back on your body, wherever that is.”

  Trothung said, “How can I dare do that? This rat’s body, though illusory, is the sole support of your uncle’s body. Please try to think of some other method than that.”

  For a little while Joru pretended to be thinking. Then he said, “Right, Uncle, your intentions toward White Ling were particularly evil. Your inability to annul the magic must be the retribution for that. These days even though you take great pride in the strength of the mighty troops of Tag-rong, this pride cannot defeat the outer enemies, and it might even be the cause for inner turmoil among the cousins and brothers. Not only that, if necessary I, Joru alone, could easily wipe out the army of Tag-rong, down to the last man. If obstacles befall the life spans of Zigphen, Nya-tsha, Dongtsen, and others, I would feel remorse as if that had happened to my own elder brother, Zhalkar. You, Trothung, are a man who will stop at nothing, but your treachery in White Ling has been in vain. You must swear not to incite the armies to internal warfare. If you promise from your heart, then it’s possible that this magic can be annulled. Trothung replied, “Yes, you’re right. I am willing to both promise and swear.”