Bai-Ming then turned to face young Yeshua.
“It is an honor to be in your presence, grandmaster,” the monk said reverently.
“If I may, brother,” Yeshua said. “Could you please not refer to me as ‘grandmaster’, since you already have one? I feel like it is disrespectful to Grandmaster Chang. I know that is not your intention, but could you please grant me this request?”
“As you wish, grand- I mean, master!” Bai-Ming agreed.
They all tried to make the best out of the feast. Over the past six years, Ganesh and Yeshua had formed a strong bond that was beyond friendship. As such, Ganesh was not in the best of moods. Bai-Ming and his brothers explained that they would only eat vegetables because they were vegetarians, and not out of disrespect for the royal house. It had something to do with less karma from eating vegetables as opposed to more karma from eating slaughtered animals. But they chose to leave out these details for fear their guests may feel offended.
A week later, young Yeshua was ready to depart with the monks. He bid his farewell to the royal family and to the friends he had made during his stay in India. There was sadness everywhere. Prince Ganesh insisted on riding with them, at least till they were at the outer banks of the kingdom. Young Yeshua was glad the prince was coming with them.
“Do not trouble yourself, brother!” Yeshua said. “We will have no need for horses, food, supplies and guards.”
And then it struck the prince that the monks themselves had neither horses nor supplies with them. He wondered how this was possible. They arrived at the outer banks, and it was time for final farewells. Yeshua, the monks, and Prince Ganesh dismounted their houses. Prince Ganesh pressed the hand of each monk and gave them his blessings. Then, he turned to the young master. Both men’s eyes were brimming with tears.
“I hope our paths will cross again, brother,” said the prince with a breaking voice.
“They certainly will, brother,” Yeshua assured the prince
He extended his hand. Ganesh pressed it, and then both men crashed into each other in a very tight embrace. The tears flowed freely as they held on to each other for a few heartbeats before unwillingly peeling away from each other.
“May the stars always continue to look out for you, brother,” Ganesh said.
“And you as well, brother,” young Yeshua replied.
They hugged again and parted ways. Ganesh mounted his horse while young Yeshua joined the monks. The monks then sat on the ground in a square formation, and young Yeshua sat in the middle. The five of them closed their eyes and took three slow breaths. The monks then locked hands with one another and bowed their heads. All five men then took in one very long breath. Ganesh observed the situation without comprehension. He thought they were practicing an alien prayer ritual. But when the five men vanished from his sight in the blink of an eye, it all finally made sense to him. Teleportation was a lot more fascinating than he had expected.
They appeared in the main hall of the temple. Every monk was present and waiting. The monks lined up on either side of the aisle leading to the altar. The temple was built with solid, polished wood that seemed to have withstood the test of time and the elements. The ceiling tapered upwards from four directions to a focal point in the center. There were wooden columns at each of the four corners of the temple. There were symbols on the walls, holding meanings that eluded Yeshua for the moment. Unlike the palace in India, this temple was the very epitome of art without the splendor and décor of the wealthy.
Grandmaster Chang donned a red and orange garment, wrapped around his body but leaving his arms exposed, just like every other monk in the temple. A prayer bead was in his left hand, and a wooden staff was in right hand. Although his chair was that of a grandmaster, the wooden piece of furniture held nothing majestic or royal to it. Behind him was a giant-sized statue of The Buddha sitting cross-legged. The statue was the only object of the temple that was covered in gold. Bai-Ming led Yeshua down the aisle to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the grandmaster’s chair. Bai-Ming bowed his head and greeted the grandmaster. Yeshua followed suit. He had learned how to speak Mandarin within two days of Bai-Ming’s arrival in India.
The grandmaster returned their greeting with a nod and stood up. His frail five-foot form was a stark contrast to the strength he had in with each step he took. The wooden staff in his right hand was just an emblem of his authority and not a walking cane. His gaze never left Yeshua as he made his way down the stairs. At five stairs away from Yeshua, Grandmaster Chang pointed his staff towards Yeshua. The bells of the temple started ringing in unison of their own accord.
“He truly has the glow of the Buddha,” Grandmaster Chang spoke in a low, raspy voice. “And his vibrations are almost in tune with that of The Sound.”
He went down two more steps.
“Almost,” he added. “Not there yet.”
Then, he bowed slowly in the young master’s direction, and every monk did the same.
“Welcome, young master,” Grandmaster Chang said. “It is, indeed, an honor to have you in our midst, once again. I have dreamed of this day for a very long time.”
Grandmaster Chang then turned around and made a slow, but steady climb back to his chair, even before Yeshua could express his gratitude.
“Bai-Ming will be your personal attendant,” he added. “He will see to all your needs.”
“Thank you very much, Grandmaster Chang,” Yeshua replied. “The honor is all mine.”
Grandmaster Chang nodded, and another senior monk stepped forward. He was much younger than Grandmaster Chang but much older than most of the other monks. Yeshua later learned that this monk, Master Fei, would succeed the grandmaster, upon Grandmaster Chang’s death.
“Welcome once again, young master,” Master Fei said and turned his attention towards Bai-Ming. “Please take him to his quarters now.”
Bai-Ming bowed his head but as soon as they turned to leave, every monk in the temple suddenly crowded around Yeshua, Bai-Ming, and the other three monks. A cacophony of words erupted, and every monk was trying to at least touch the young master. Master Fei’s order to let the young master be for the moment seemed to fall on deaf ears at first.
“Now, please do not overwhelm the young master just yet,” he said. “He will be with us for a while, and I am sure you will get the opportunity to meet and spend some time with him. But for now, he must get settled in first.”
The monks finally let Young Yeshua be.
“Are you feeling alright, master?” Bai-Ming asked as they started walking down the half-a-mile path towards their living quarters.
“Yes, I am, brother,” Yeshua replied.
Bai-Ming felt honored to be referred to as ‘brother.’
“I apologize for my brothers’ behavior earlier, master,” Bai-Ming continued. “I hope you understand they are just overwhelmed with curiosity. Your reputation precedes you!”
“No need to apologize, brother,” Yeshua replied with a smile, and Bai-Ming grinned.
They spiced their brief walk with pleasant conversations. Yeshua told him about his family in Israel and that he misses them a lot. He also spoke briefly about how he understood the sacrifices he was making to resonate with his purpose on Earth Realm. Bai-Ming listened with intense fascination as Yeshua spoke. He was still incredulous to the fact that he was going to be the personal assistant to a Buddha!
They arrived at their living quarters and Yeshua’s new abode was stark contrast to that in India. The bed was small, barely large enough for his frame, with two thin mattresses stacked on top of each other. Yeshua deduced doubling up his mattress was their definition of giving him special treatment. His eyes swept across the rest of the room that was no more than fifteen-by-twenty feet. There was no chair, no table, no bathtub and no wardrobe. There were no naked maidens to give him a bath. As small as his living quarters were, to say it was pristine was an understatement of epic proportion. Yeshua smiled.
“Unless I am mistaken, maste
r,” Bai-Ming spoke after Yeshua had studied his new abode for a few moments, “you do not require any food or drink right now?”
“No, brother. Thank you,” Yeshua replied, “I am fine for now. I would like to know when I begin training, though.”
“Grandmaster Chang says tomorrow at first light,” Bai-Ming replied.
“You must have enormous respect for grandmaster,” Yeshua remarked.
He had noticed how Bai-Ming’s voice changed every time he spoke of the grandmaster.
“He is like a father to me, master,” Bai-Ming explained, and his expression was one of deep respect. “He pulled me away from the streets and gave me a new life and a new purpose in this brotherhood. I owe him my life.”
Bai-Ming paused and smiled.
“If master pleases, one day I will share my story.”
“Of course, brother,” Yeshua replied. “I would love to know everything about you; without having to steal a glance at the Book of Remembrance.”
Both men broke out into laughter. Yeshua extended right his hand and Bai-Ming looked at him quizzically.
“Where I come from,” Yeshua began explaining, “men clasp forearms as a symbol of agreement, good fortune, and so on. But right here, right now, I extend my hand to you as a symbol of our growing brotherhood.”
Bai-Ming grinned, nodded and extended his right hand in like manner. Both men clasped forearms. Yeshua placed his free left hand on Bai-Ming’s right shoulder and squeezed gently.
“Thank you… brother,” he said.
“The honor is all mine… master,” Bai-Ming replied.
Yeshua shook his head in resignation. There was no way he would get Bai-Ming to address him as ‘brother.’
“Just one more thing,” Yeshua said as if he had just remembered something.
“Anything, master,” Bai-Ming replied.
“Well, now that I am one of you,” he said, smiling mischievously, “when do I get to shave my head like everyone else here?”
Bai-Ming’s grinned even more mischievously as he brandished a razor from his pocket.
“I think,” Yeshua said, summoning a wooden stool to manifest, “that you and I are going to be really good friends!”
“Master,” Bai-Ming said, “if you keep up with such profuse flattery, my ego will grow so big that I will not be able to walk through the door anymore.”
Both men laughed heartily as Bai-Ming began working the razor on Yeshua’s head.
CHAPTER TWENTY: STICKS AND STONES, C. E. 32
“Hungry yet?” Yeshua asked Yehuda.
“I just replenished, master,” Yehuda replied confidently.
“Good!” Yeshua nodded, pleased with the progress of his apprentice. “You are getting better by the day, brother!”
“Only because I have a great teacher,” Yehuda replied.
Yehuda had been making giant strides with training over the past two years. Master and apprentice had walked to a small hill on the east side of town; the same hill on which the master had given his first sermon after his return from Egypt. They had chosen walking over teleportation well… just because.
“Are you ready for your next lessons?” Yeshua asked as they sat atop a huge rock at the top of the hill.
“Yes, mast- AHHHHH!!!!!”
Yehuda screamed in pain as his right leg gave way and he crashed into the ground. His right tibia and fibula had suddenly snapped like twigs; compound-fracture style. The pain was excruciating, and even breathing seemed to spike his agony. He managed to lift his head up to glance at his shattered right leg. When he saw pieces of jagged and bloodied bone fragments sticking out of his skin, he turned to the side and emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground. It was the first time he had seen a fracture, let alone one as bad as that in his right leg.
“Very well then,” Yeshua said as he slid off the boulder, “let the training begin.”
Yehuda stared at the master as if he were in a dream. He could not believe that his master was so oblivious to his agony and was still talking about training. Then, it struck him. He did not trip and fall. His bones had just suddenly snapped. This was the master’s doing! His pain gave way to fury, agony gave way to anger, and because he knew he could not physically hurt the Master, powerlessness gave way to utter frustration.
“If I had my way-” Yehuda started to say but stopped.
He looked around, teeth clattering, body shivering uncontrollably, and realized that everywhere was covered with a white and very cold substance. With every whistle of the wind, he felt as if the cold would burn his flesh away from his body. For a moment, the uncannily freezing temperatures numbed the pain in his leg. He scooped up some of the white substance in his stiffening palm and closed his fist around. A tiny portion of the white substance melted in his hand, while the rest clumped together. He let it drop to the ground. He tried to speak but failed. He had never been exposed to such inhumane elements.
“Where are we, master?” Yehuda asked telepathically.
“This is a land in the very far south,” Yeshua explained audibly. “Here, it is so cold that an unprotected human would die within minutes. What you see around you,” he waved his hand around as he spoke, “is just water that has hardened. Sometimes, they form gigantic structures and sometimes, they form the fluffy substances you now sit on.”
He paused for a moment to let Yehuda appreciate his immediate surroundings. He also alleviated most of Yehuda’s pain and had shrouded Yehuda in a field of warmth.
“I have never seen anything like this,” Yehuda marveled out loud. “This truly is beautiful, Master!”
“And now for your training,” Yeshua said, and Yehuda was once again consumed by pain. “Your task is to get out of your present situation.”
Yehuda had always considered himself a fighter. So even as his life was slowing being frozen away by the white substance on the ground and the whistling winds of this white wilderness, Yehuda would not give up. He decided he would fight the white death surrounding him, starting with taking his mind off it for the moment. He pushed himself to a sitting position, screaming in pain as he did. He then scooped up handfuls of the white substance and pressed it over his broken leg. The relief from the pain was only temporary. Next, he made two splints and some rope manifest. He placed the splints on either side of his broken leg and tied them in place with the rope. He then thought about what to do next. He was growing weaker by the second. Unable to speak, he sent a telepathic message to his Master.
“I do not know what else to do, Master!”
“What do you mean, Yehuda?” the Master asked.
Yehuda pondered on the master’s question, even as he felt his life ebbing away.
“I do not know how to heal myself, and I do not know how to be a master over the elements. Please teach me.”
Suddenly, Yehuda felt a surge of energy infuse his body, and he felt a lot stronger, warmer and more alive. The fracture was still there, they were still in this open, white wilderness but he was not freezing anymore. He knew it was Master’s doing.
“I will show you then, brother,” Yeshua replied.
***
THE LIFE FORCE
Bai-Ming was waiting outside of Yehuda’s chamber at first light. He was thinking he might have to wake Yeshua up but was glad to see that Yeshua was already up and ready for the day. They made it to the western section of the monastery, right at the foot of the mountain. On their way, they passed several groups of monks performing synchronized routines: some used weapons like long staffs and swords while others did not. There were some monks in rock-stiff poses. Some stood on one leg, others on their heads and there was a monk who balanced his body on a single finger. Yeshua thought this was most intriguing and Bai-Ming seized the opportunity to explain what was going on to Yeshua.
“We call this Kung-Fu,” Bai-Ming said. “It is a form of martial arts. We practice it for self-defense and to condition the mind and body. It is one of the many paths that one could use for inner peace. I can t
ell you more about that later. The other brothers you noticed in the strange positions are just meditating. Different paths, same destination.”
“Destination…” Yeshua repeated.
“Do you have a different opinion, brother?” Bai-Ming asked Yeshua. “I always thought of life as a journey, and that we are on a path to a destination; which ultimately is enlightenment and hence liberation from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth?”
“True, in some sense, brother,” Yeshua agreed. “This present life may be considered a journey and the total of all our experiences could also be classified as a path. But then, to speak of enlightenment as a destination is a contradiction itself. Think about it; does the term ‘destination’ itself not imply a starting and an ending point?”
“It does,” Bai-Ming agreed, still unclear as to the point Yeshua was driving at.
“So, if enlightenment is a destination, then how can we say that we are formless and one with the Creator, and still talk of an ‘end’?” Yeshua asked.
“I think I see what you are saying,” Bai-Ming conceded.
“We ought to be consistent thought, word, and deed,” Yeshua explained further as they continued their walk. “So rather than thinking of enlightenment is a destination, I think it would be better to say enlightenment is simply us awakening to who we are; self-realization. And that awakening can only take place in the now.”
“That makes a lot of sense, brother,” Bai-Ming seemed to have an epiphany. “Thank you very much, master!”
“You are very welcome, brother,” Yeshua replied. “Do you get attacked often?” Yeshua asked, wanting to change the subject for no reason. “I would not imagine a peaceful group like yours having any enemies.”
“No, we do not,” Bai-Ming replied. “But unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the other monasteries. Some of them have lost their way indeed.” He sighed. “So, it is not uncommon to hear of monasteries having rivalries with other monasteries, all in the name of pride. What a pity! We prefer not to meddle in such affairs. We just focus on our awakening!”
The Bright Eyes (The Soulless Ones Book 1) Page 19