Shambhala

by Miller, Brian E.

  “I am told you can speak with the jungle,” Kavi’s soft, warm tone is inviting.

  “Yes sir, I can,” Bahi says in an almost trance state.

  “What is it you wish to know?” Kavi asks, not wasting any time.

  “Well sir, I seem to have been cursed with forgetfulness. I don’t remember who I am. I hit my head quite hard and haven’t remembered since. I come to you to ask if you can help me with this question.”

  The wise monkey stares in contemplation, and softly blinking his eyes, he begins to speak, “You do not wish to know who you once thought you were, however you seek to know the truth of who you are, am I correct?”

  “Yes, I mean I think so, it’s confusing to me as of now. Bandar had taken me into town to seek out who I was, yet I felt the answers weren’t going to be there for me. Was I wrong?”

  Kavi looks at Bahi with a humble smile, “Let me begin explaining who we all are.”

  Walking closer to the seated inquirers, Kavi slowly steps with his staff, which runs upward from the ground, curving like a question mark above his small, black hand, topped off with an iridescent crystal that sets firm at the head of the staff. His light brown eyes glisten as he sits in the lotus position, each foot softly placed on either thigh. “On this planet,” he begins, “we share a brotherhood that excludes no one and no thing.” Bahi smiles at Bandar, having heard this before, as Kavi goes on, “Those of us that live and breathe have the fire of creation more active in us. Therefore we must eat feeding the fire, enabling us to sustain our lives by keeping the fire active to run our vessels. Starting with the smallest plant on this wonderful planet, plants absorb nutrients from the fertile soil of our mother and drink the sweet waters given often by the Earth’s selfless bounty. So we have water, Earth, and fire. We eat the plants, which convert these nutrients and give us proteins to build our muscles and so forth, or we eat animals that eat plants and we get a secondary source of this protein. Either way, whether we are going directly to the source of nutrition or eating the leftovers in the meat of animals, all living animals such as you and I get our nutrition from the plant, which comes from the Earth and is fortified from the heavens above with sun. Our bodies are composed of the food we eat, and whatever it is we eat can be traced back to the plants and vegetation of the Earth.”

  Bandar and Bahi sit captivated by Kavi’s words as he goes on. “You are the Earth, you are a reflection of the Earth, and the Earth is a reflection of you. If you check with your science you will find this to be true,” he says as he tosses a biology book from a small shelf, which lands perfectly in front of Bahi, open to a page of a human structure.

  “Where did you get this?” Bahi asks perplexed.

  “That’s insignificant to the conversation at hand. You are composed of three quarters water, or liquid, and one quarter mass, exactly like the Earth. You have in your body veins, capillaries, and so forth, which are your rivers and streams, and just like the Earth you have energy centers that run various systems of your body. Some call these the chakras. Also, like the Earth, if you pollute your body, you will get sick. But luckily, like the Earth, your body can withstand much pollution and can clean itself out. Yet, with too much pollution and toxins, sooner or later the body will collapse just like the Earth. Therefore you are all things on Earth, and all things on Earth are you.”

  Kavi stands up and makes his way toward the mist. “Come,” he beckons as the two rise.

  Clearing the smoke with a wave of his hand, he reveals a cauldron, bubbling from the fire below it. Stilling the bubbles with another faint wave of his hand, Kavi smiles as images begin to appear in the dense liquid. Bandar sits on Bahi’s shoulder as they peer into the cauldron. They behold people cutting down trees, images of missiles launching and exploding, people firing rifles, images of humans smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol, followed by an image of a large dozer leveling trees, and another of oil burning in the ocean.

  “We are not being mindful of our destruction. We are devastating our mother at a rapid pace. As we destroy the Earth, we are destroying ourselves, you see, because we are the Earth. And why does the human race do this?”

  “For money mostly,” Bahi whispers.

  “Aha,” Kavi says as his eyes light up. “Very good, only after the last tree has been cut down, only after the last fish has been caught, only after the last river has been poisoned, only then will you realize that money can’t be eaten. Some say we can live without the Earth, perhaps on a moon. But that, I tell you, will be the end of living and the beginning of survival. The end of living draws near if we do not heed the warning. The end of living and the beginning of survival,” he says softly to reiterate his point.

  A stillness pervades the room. Only the sounds of the bubbling cauldron can be heard.

  “And so you seek to know who you are, I have explained this to you, but this you must also find for yourself.”

  Bahi is still speechless.

  “Do you have something to show me?” Kavi asks Bahi.

  “Um, no, I don’t think so,” Bahi answers as he thinks.

  Kavi looks, and with a nod of his head, looking down at Bahi’s pants softly asks, “A piece of paper perhaps?”

  Remembering the folded-up paper in his boxers, he quickly digs into his pants, anxiously taking it out and unfolding it as he hands it to Kavi. “This is all I have, I don’t know where it came from.”

  Kavi looks it over pensively and runs his fingers over the Om symbol before handing it back to Bahi. “Only one other human I know can communicate with the animals of the jungle, and this symbol on your paper is confirmation that you must meet him.”

  Bahi looks down at the Om symbol as he listens attentively.

  “I don’t know where you came from, I do not know where you will go, in fact this is all up to you. I do know this: your journey has led you here, and now I must point you in the direction of the Baba who lives beyond the valley. Bandar knows the beginning of the path’s location and will show you the way,” Kavi says, lowering his head and turning his attention to Bandar, who stands next to Bahi. “After you show him the entrance of the path you must return immediately home.”

  “That is a dangerous path. I must escort Bahi!” Bandar interrupts.

  “You must go home immediately, for if you step foot on that path you will never return. Death awaits you there, young Bandar, and this is not your fate. Your journey, young one, goes in another direction. It is one of great importance as is Bahi’s, and therefore I warn you not to stray from the path you are meant to walk.”

  “But, but, I . . . ” Bandar tries to interject being quickly cut off by Kavi.

  “But, but, nothing, young Bandar. Now you listen and listen well. Your merging with Bahi is complete. You have been a crucial part of his path. And now, like the great river, which splits at eagle’s rock, you must part ways.” He notices a look of concern on Bandar’s face. “Fear not, young Bandar: all rivers lead to the same place. Yet, if they do not stream where they are meant to stream, they will not carry the water of life where it is meant to be carried. Thus those who need, and await it there, will be without. There is enough disharmony, too many rivers and streams offtrack. Return home. Your family worries for you. Kamala cries as we speak!”

  Bending down softly to Bandar’s eye level, Kavi looks with compassionate concern. “Promise me this, young one,” he asks as he places a gentle hand on Bandar’s shoulder.

  “Of course, Kavi. I promise.” Bandar lowers his head in reverent discontent.

  Making his way over to the small shelf, Kavi pulls down a small brown cloth tied with a thin piece of vine. Untying the cloth as he walks back over, he reveals three berries that lie gently inside and hands them, laid out on the cloth, to Bahi.

  “These will protect you on the path to the Baba. If you encounter any danger, simply eat these, and protection will be at your back.”

 
; Bahi ties them back up and places them in his pocket. “Thank you for your help, Kavi,” he says as he bows his head, hands in prayer position. “Will the Baba have the answers I seek?”

  “Only you hold those answers. Yet the journey you travel and the people and animals you meet will unveil parts of yourself, pieces of the riddle that will be able to answer this. So in essence we all hold the answers to each other.”

  Bahi runs this over in his head, trying to make practical sense to it at a time where nothing seems to compute. Kavi summons the smaller monkey from the other room as he bids them farewell. Walking off toward the miniature door they came in, the small, white monkey stands, showing them the way out as Kavi disappears once again into the mist at the far corner of the room.

  Making their way down the steep, wooden staircase, which spirals down the trunk, Bahi struggles in the small space to make his way down, in contrast to Bandar, who effortlessly makes his way hopping and even playfully flipping down the steps. Finally reaching the mouth, they exit the tree, and as the Earth once again trembles, they watch as the hole heals up until it looks as though there were never an entrance. Bahi leans on a wide bodhi tree in deep contemplation and awe.

  “The wise Baba is who taught Kavi. Surely he will have the answers you seek,” Bandar says sensing a still unfulfilled Bahi.

  “Have you met this Baba?”

  “Not I. Not many do here in the jungle, but he is known by many. It is said that he is six hundred years old and transmutes his messages by thought to all of the world.”

  “What of the path? You say it’s dangerous!” Bahi enquires.

  “The path that leads to the Baba is one of great lore among the jungle, full of danger they say, but we have many stories and I believe they are just that, stories.”

  “What if it’s truth?” Bahi asks nervously.

  “Ah, just a story to keep the young monkey from wandering off,” Bandar says, trying to ease his fears.

  “Kavi predicted certain death for you upon the path. Danger must be prevalent there.”

  “My friend, keep your wits high and your senses open and you will be OK. You have the berries from Kavi. If not, then maybe I would be a little worried,” Bandar says, now expressing a small amount of the large concern he holds inside, knowing this to be a path of danger. “We should sleep here in the protection of the ancient forest and leave for the path just before sunrise. You don’t want to be on the path at nightfall,” Bandar suggests.

  Bahi likes the idea, and sitting on fallen leaves he absorbs the energy that vibrates from the enormous trees all around him, lifting his spirits and calming his mind. Bandar drags over a large, fallen banana palm frond and lay it next to Bahi. “Bed,” he says, as Bahi stands to help him out.

  Gathering more fallen fronds that spread wide with browned leaves, they create covers for their bedding to protect them from the cool night winds that will soon be rolling in. The forest is especially beautiful as the setting sun dances upon the ancient trees, adding a golden hue to the massive trunks, which embody wisdom and stability. Sitting in wonder of this magical land, Bahi reflects on the lessons of Kavi. He internally thanks the forest, the trees, the fallen leaves they have used for bedding, the fruit above, and the soil below. For the first time in the past two days, he feels calm. A smile grows upon his face. The quiet dust of the forest sails smoothly in the warm, golden sunlight, settling into the Earth. A butterfly lands gently upon Bahi’s knee as he sits. He quietly observes her exquisite wings, silky black, with one reflective blue circle filled with dark lavender on each wing.

  “Hello,” he delicately greets as the butterfly leisurely waves her wings as if doing a light stretch.

  “Hi,” she replies to Bahi’s amazement.

  “Can you understand me?” he asks.

  “Why, yes, I can, I’m not an idiot, you know.”

  Bahi laughs at the revelation that he can talk to insects too, scaring her to a delicate pounce a few feet away on the tip of the palm bed.

  “You are quite possibly the most beautiful butterfly I have ever seen,” he says in truth, drawing her back to his knee.

  “Why, thank you. You are a very beautiful. Um, what are you exactly?” the butterfly asks, never having ventured out of the jungle to see a human.

  “They say I am a human being.”

  “Who is they?” she asks.

  “Ha, ha, I don’t know,” Bahi laughs. “What is your name, little butterfly?”

  “Kamini,” she says as she gracefully flutters to his arm to get a better look at him.

  “My name is Bahi, nice to meet you, Kamini.”

  Bandar comes rustling over, back from gathering some food for dinner, a variety of fruits and beans.

  “Bandar, this is Kamini,” Bahi introduces.

  “Hello Kamini, you are welcome to join us for dinner,” Bandar says, pointing to the food he piled on top of the dried palm leaves, laid out next to a large tree.

  “Why I thank you, but I have just indulged of the sweet nectars of that

  flower,” Kamini says, floating gently and landing on Bahi’s shoulder as they make their way over to the food.

  A feast of fruits and beans lies before them. Bahi smiles with thanks as they sit around the food.

  “So, where does a human being come from, and where are you going,” Kamini asks.

  Finishing a mouthful of banana, Bahi explains, “Well, Kamini, where I come from is somewhat of a mystery, as is where I am going. I am searching for that truth of who I am.” Bahi goes on to explain of how Bandar and he met and what brought them to the ancient forest.

  Finishing the meal, they see the sky darken as they shelter themselves in a huddle under the dried-brown palm fronds. The coolness of night begins to settle in. Silently they lie, all in contemplation of their own lives, and with minds as full as bellies, they drift off to sleep. The subtle sleep of dreams quickly consumes them, easing their tired bodies from the busy day.

  “BANDAR, BANDAR!” A voice softly pokes into the darkness of sleep.

  Opening his eyes, Bandar sees Kamala nudging him to wake up. He smiles. “Am I dreaming?” he asks playfully.

  “Bandar, the clan worries about you,” she says with urgency as Bandar sits up, bringing his mind to the present.

  “The clan . . . ” Bandar trails off, unconcerned.

  “I worried about you,” Kamala says lovingly, looking into his eyes.

  Bahi begins to wake, slowly stretching up, pulling his knees to his chest, huddled in a sitting position and trying to contain his warmth. The sun has not yet risen, but light softly illumines the forest as Kamini makes her way to a fire-orange red marigold to feast upon its nectar.

  “Today I will come back to the clan. I am showing Bahi the way to the trail that leads to the Baba,” Bandar explains to Kamala.

  “Who is Bahi?” she asks.

  “Who indeed?” Bahi says with a chuckle.

  “I named him Bahi, my brother,” Bandar explains proudly as Kamini softly alights upon his head.

  “Hello,” she greets Kamala.

  Kamala smiles back, “The path to the Baba is forbidden, Bandar,” Kamala whispers.

  Bahi listens in concern.

  “Kavi has assured us he will be fine,” Bandar says, noticing the concerned look on Bahi’s face.

  “I will come with you. I can fly above and see any danger ahead,” Kamini offers. “and besides, I have heard much about this Baba, and I think he can help me.”

  “Help you, with what?” Bandar asks.

  “I lost my family, my brothers and sisters—all gone. One day I was eating breakfast, and when I was done they were nowhere to be seen. I haven’t seen them since. This was weeks ago,” Kamini explains sadly.

  “Then so it is,” Bahi says, standing up to greet the first beam of warm light from over the hills. “Kamini and
I will brave the forest path to the Baba.”

  “We should get moving so you can get an early start. One does not want to be on that path at dark,” Bandar warns.

  Gathering up, the four head out of the ancient forest, led by Bandar and Kamala. They pass great, rushing rivers and an array of beautiful foliage. They reach a large stone wall decorated with small, purple flowers that grow up its face.

  “It’s just over this hill,” Bandar explains, pointing to a small path that fades into the incline of thick jungle.

  Bahi begins to feel nervous, realizing that Bandar will soon leave him. They make their way up the narrow rocky trail, over a small hill. Reaching the summit, they come to another trail that descends into the darkness of the jungle. A wooden sign is posted on a tree. It points toward the trail. A large crow swoops down, its wide, black, silken wings lowering it to rest upon the sign.

  “What does it say?” Bahi asks, noticing it’s written in Hindi.

  Bandar is busy looking up in a tree for food to give Kamini and Bahi for their journey.

  “It’s a warning,” the crow says, staring down with solid -black beady eyes.

  Bahi looks up. “A warning for what?” he asks nervously.

  The crow turns his head toward the trail then back at Bahi, and from his sharp, black beak he speaks, “Better men than you have traversed this path and were never seen again. If you are smart, you will turn back now.”

  “I can’t. I must see the Baba,” Bahi says as Kamini floats higher to nervously look ahead on the trail.

  “If the Baba wished to see you, he would come to you,” the crow squawks.