Walking a good distance, he notices the sun is now high in the afternoon sky. He comes to a split in the path and contemplates which way he should go. He thinks it over, glancing down each path, and decides that because either way is unknown he should just pick a direction. Fear wells up. He does not want to choose the wrong path and stray from the direction to the wise man. Taking off his shirt in the hot sunlight, he decides to go right. He walks a bit and comes to a steep decline, where the trail drops off in an almost vertical slope below. Feeling cautious, he takes a step as rocks slip from under his feet, falling past the jagged rocks that stick out from the slope. It looks as though no one has traversed this path for some time.
Contemplating going back to the other path in the split, he considers that the path to such a wise man is probably one of great obstacles and decides to keep on. Sitting on his butt, he grabs hold of some well-rooted shrubs as he slides down slowly. Coming to his feet again, he jumps to a solid part of the slope before stepping off to another seemingly solid rock in the dark decline of the trail. The rock slips out, sending him flying down the slope, knocking him about. He catches his left leg on a piece of cold rock. In pain, he throws off his backpack and paces back and forth trying to limp off the piercing stab that shoots up his leg. A faint rush of cold sweat glazes his body. Mumbling obscenities to no one, he sits down to have a look at his leg. The rock tore clean through his pants, and blood soaks his sock. The pain is numbing, and his heart races in the fear that he may have done some serious damage. He sits and breathes consciously, not knowing his next step. He regrets the step he took that led him to the fall. “Damn it!” he screams out, his cry of remorse echoing through the hills, as tears fall down his cheek. Then, he notices a cave-like rock dwelling, and as the nausea that washes over him dissipates slightly, he hobbles over to it and sits in the sun for a while, just breathing, trying to calm his mind.
The continuing waves of pain make him realize that he won’t be able to keep on hiking. He resolves to gather some wood, rest the remainder of the day, and spend the night in the shelter of this cave-like arch of rock, which opens up into a flat, dirt path just behind two trees. He hobbles to gather wood. As he lays a final piece of strong twisted branch, which he tries to break into kindling. But he gives up as sweat trickles down his face, leaving him faint. Feeling exhausted and queasy, he lies down for the remainder of the day, trying to divert his mind from the sharp, shooting pain. Both nausea and faintness plague him as the sun sets, leaving the day far behind.
Lying in darkness, he hesitates to light the fire, knowing the sooner he lights it the sooner it will go out and that the night will grow colder. He feels bouts of nausea and exhaustion and decides to light the fire. It takes him almost and entire book of matches to get it going. All the while he wonders why fate seems to have turned against him. Finally the fire blazes as he lays back, closing his eyes. Despite the throbbing pain, his dreams rush in like clouds in a storm. His mind tosses and turns, prompting him awake in the darkness of night, to turn back, to go home. Sweating now, in feverish delirium, he drifts in and out of sleep. The fire is out, and he shivers with the heat of fever that blazes within, due to infection in his leg. Waking up a few times, he throws up, off to the side of the cave, heaving an empty stomach. He manages to hobble to the stream to gather water in his pot. Scared and alone, he thinks he may die there and that even if he could listen to the promptings of his dreamlike fear, there is no way he can hike back, in this condition. After all, he practically had to crawl to the stream only a few feet away.
Waking up again, Bahi stares into the blazing sun, not having any sense of time or space, his lips dry and cracked. His leg is stiff, and as the blood dries around the puss of an open wound, he thinks over and again that he should wash out the wound, but dares not to touch it.
The cold night once again sets in as he drags in the remainder of wood he had piled up the day before. Barely able to light a match, he attempts to ignite a fire. Nausea and fatigue give him double vision as one last attempt sends the wooden matches flying in all directions. His head smacks down and he passes out once again in the fury of fever. The lord of death watches down upon him as he slips into a comma-like slumber. Opening his eyes in a dream, he finds himself in a beautiful, silent, tree-lined meadow adorned with sweet flowers and lush, green grasses. He stands painless and free and notices an image, like a mirage, shimmering toward him. Making out the white glow, he notices a beautiful woman gliding toward him. Mesmerized by her pale beauty and calming eyes, he surrenders to her energy, which captivates him. As she nears, his leg begins to throb as it opens up, pouring blood, dropping him to the grass, with pain. The woman swiftly catches him, almost falling at him, lying with him and holding him tight. He feels warm and secure as he stares into her endless eyes, which soothe his pain. “Fear not, Bahi, I am with you,” she says smiling, as her long, golden-blond hair radiates light. She wears a long, pure-white, tunic that falls to her feet, outlining her perfectly formed body.
“I can’t go on anymore. I can’t,” Bahi says without moving his lips.
“It’s all going to be all right,” she says as he stares at her full, red lips set upon her smooth, moon-pale skin.
Captivated by her beauty, he views his dream as an observer and sees himself lying on the grass coddled by this goddess of a woman. The sky begins to rain down flowers as she kisses him on the lips and holds him. He feels the wounds on his leg heal up almost instantly. “I’m scared,” he thinks.
“Of course you are, but it’s OK because we love you.” he hears as they engage in still another long, soft kiss.
“Who does?” he asks in his mind as white light overwhelms his sight, flooding him in the warmth of its luminosity.
“Don’t give up. Never give up. You will find what you seek. If you never give up, you will never fail.”
He hears the soft wisdom of the Goddess as all falls black. The crackling of the fire opens his eyes from the dream. Flames rage in his haphazard fire pit as he notices his fever has passed. Looking down at his leg, he sees that he still has the wound, but it seems to hurt less. He lies in wonder of the dream, and in the warm glow of the fire, he now drifts off into a luxourious, dreamless sleep of deep healing.
IN THE MORNING Bahi feels much better and is finally able to eat. He hobbles down to the stream for water and sits by its edge and thinks, still in a daze after the incredible dream. He looks down and across the stream. A wolf laps up water, peering at him with yellow eyes. Bahi’s heart stops as the wolf suspends his drinking—locking eyes with Bahi. The animal’s gray coat is clouded in black shrugs as he pulls his head from the water and runs, crossing the stream near Bahi. Bahi leaps up, dropping his pot, and with no regard for the pain in his leg, begins to run to the cliff. The wolf quickly gains on him, tripping him with a bite of his shoe. Bahi falls to the ground, quickly rolling onto his back. He can smell the wolf lunging at him as he shields his eyes and face in defense. After a moment he lowers his guard as the wolf just pants in his face, standing over his chest.
“Hello?” Bahi ventures cautiously.
“Oh, me too!” the wolf says. Bahi cautiously sits up on the cold rocky ground, with heart still pumping and beads of sweat forming on his body. “Some wound you got there,” the wolf comments.
“Yeah, I fell,” Bahi says, still uncertain.
“You mind if I clean it up for ya? Looks like it might get infected.”
“Sure.” Bahi says hesitently as the wolf begins to lick the wound.
“Ouch!” Bahi cries, pulling away.
“Don’t worry, after this you’ll be a new man,” the wolf says between licks.
Bahi endures the pain, remembering that dogs have healing agents in their saliva. He smiles uncomfortably as the coarse tongue disinfects his wound. Finishing up, the wolf licks around his mouth and paws. Bahi looks down at his cleaned wound. “Thanks.”
“Oh, nothing t
o it. Glad to be of assistance. Say, what brings you out here, anyway?”
“I’m looking for a wise man who lives not far from here.”
“Oh, yeah I know him, of him. I mean, it’s not far from here.”
“Could you take me there?” Bahi asks, standing and brushing off his clothes.
“Sure. It’ll be about a days walk with that leg. You’re lucky I came this way. You could easily be dinner with that hobble.”
“For whom? You?”
“Ah! No. Humans don’t taste too good from what I’ve heard. But there are all types in this forest who would eat just about anything. In fact, I can hear them salivating now waiting for me to leave,” his ears perk up.
Bahi looks around nervously, saying, “Yes, yes, I would be in your debt if you would show me the way.”
“Ha ha, I am sure you would,” the wolf says raising his head proudly and shaking his thick fur that covers his stocky fit body. “What’s the name?”
“Bahi, what’s yours?”
“Bahi, eh. Funny you don’t look like a Bahi.”
“Oh yeah? What do I look like?”
“You look like a Jack.”
“What about Paul,” Bahi asks.
“What about Bahi?” the wolf laughs, then strikes a serious tone. “I am Ajee,” he says, lowering his head in honor.
“Funny, you don’t look like an Ajee,” Bahi fires back.
“Oh yeah? What do I look like then?”
“You look like a wolf,” Bahi says as they both laugh.
“Jack and the Wolf,” Ajee says, feeling a camaraderie.
“So, Wolf, who named you, anyway?”
“A wise old Baba with whom I would have conversations. In fact you are the only other human I’ve ever talked to. Say, are you a wise Baba too?”
“Far from it, Wolf. Far from it.”
“Who named you?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“You’d be surprised what these eyes and ears have witnessed in this forest, Bahi. Try me.”
“A monkey.”
“A monkey?”
“That’s right, a friend, a brother,” Bahi says proudly in a reverent manner.
“A monkey. Well then, I didn’t see that one coming, but, hey, we’ve all got our stories don’t we?”
“I presume we do. What’s your story, Ajee?”
“It’s a long one, and best told on our way to your destination before these predators have both of us for breakfast,” Ajee says looking into the thick of the forest.
Bahi strains to look, but sees only wooded forest. An eerie feeling of being watched washes over him. “Let me gather my things, and we’ll be off.”
Bahi gathers his belongings, puts on his backpack, and urinates on the still-hot ambers of the fire. Smoke loudly pours out of the sizzling ambers as he finishes up and hobbles alongside Ajee. He feels safe in the protection of his new wolf friend. Walking off along the sunlit path, Bahi again asks, “So what’s your story?”
“Ah, yes, the story. Well, where to begin? The journey has been long.” As Ajee thinks where to begin Bahi picks up a tall stick he uses to crutch the weight of his bad leg. “I was born second in line to the alpha male of our pack. My brother went crazy and tried to kill me, yada yada yada. I left the pack as a lone wolf, tried to find a good female companion to no avail, fell in with a wise Baba who taught me great lessons, and now here I am.”
“Certainly that was the abridged version,” Bahi says.
“The what?” Ajee asks, confused.
“The short version.”
“Yes, the short version. Hey, I figure it like this: if you have no story you have nothing to live up to, and every day is like a renewal,” Ajee says, stopping by the stream to drink.
“I like that, Wolf. I like it a lot,” Bahi says, bending down and cupping his hands. He scoops out some of the icy cold water into his mouth.
“What about you, Jack? What’s your story?”
“I told you, a monkey named me,” he answers with a smirk.
“And before the monkey?”
“Well, I was born somewhere that I can’t remember and yada yada yada. I hit my head, monkeys, little people, a tiger, hurt my leg and now a wolf.”
They both have a laugh. “I see you and I will get along just fine,” Ajee says, walking off onto the path followed by Bahi.
“Hey, Wolf!” Bahi calls out.
“Yes?”
“What does Ajee mean?”
“Immortal.”
“Oh, OK, cool. And are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Immortal, like your name says?”
“We will all die, Bahi. Everything ends. This is what the Baba taught me above all.”
“Sounds like a fatalist, this Baba,” Bahi says.
Ajee stops, looking up at Bahi. “If everything dies and ends constantly, then this is the true nature of things, and thus death is a mere word. What really happens is change of form, constantly. I am not the same wolf physically as I was when I was born—and you too.”
“I am not the same wolf. You are right,” Bahi says, adding some humor.
“Therefore, we never die. We are immortal in the sense that we just keep cycling back around into different forms, like the words coming out of my mouth: one ends to create another. This is the only way it can be, like the river that flows, stagnation is a myth, change is the only certitude my friend.”
Bahi thinks a minute about how fortunate he is to keep running into these wise animals. He never would have thought that so many animals could pass down such wisdom. “Wow, that’s profound, Wolf.”
“That’s not my words, it’s the wise Baba’s,” Ajee says, again stopping to lower his head in reverence.
“Perhaps I should meet this Baba.”
“You just have. His body has passed on long ago,” Ajee says.
“So there is death,” Bahi confirms.
“You, me, this tree: we will die. This body will wither and perish, and it will happen quicker than you think. This is why we must practice helping others and perform virtuous deeds, so our next form could be conducive to furthering the advancement of our minds. Or perhaps next I will be human,” Ajee says proudly.
“I’ve been told it’s the thing to be these days,” Bahi says again, adding humor to the conversation. “I agree with you, Ajee, about virtuous deeds of helping others and such.”
“It only makes sense. The energy we go forward with is the energy that creates the next moment, like a sentence. If I begin an angry sentence it throws that energy forward, creating anger. So too do all our actions. And since we never know when this body will die, we need to practice always, have a sense of urgency each moment, because that moment could be our last and that last moment will propel us into the next moment with whatever we have chosen.”
“This Baba was wise, and I feel he was not the only one with wisdom. You too are wise, Ajee. I am looking for a place called Shambhala. Has the Baba ever talked about this to you?”
Ajee halts to a gasp, looking into Bahi’s eyes. “And this only humans can achieve.”
“How do you mean?” Bahi asks.
“The Baba talked about Shambhala, where the bread is always warm, the butter plenty, and rivers of nectar flow endlessly. Fires glow soft and strong and will never burn you. It’s a pure land, Bahi. Yet animals will pass it by and never notice it. It takes only the mind of a human to find it, an exceptional human at that.”
“Why is that?”
“I am unsure. Perhaps because of our minds. Not all animals think like me Bahi. I was blessed by the Baba. Before that all I did was eat, sleep, and hunt prey in almost constant fear. Now I still do this, but somehow am conscious of this and thus I am trying to live a life that will gain me a favorable rebirth so I can
reach this Shambhala. It is here where one can be enabled to help all. The most virtuous life of all can be lived once one passes through its gates.”
“Well, Ajee, if and when I find it, I promise you I will come back and show you the way.”
Ajee’s eyes and ears perk up. Then, remembering the teaching of the Baba, he sighs, “Perhaps in another life, my friend. Time is fleeting, and you are fortunate to be human and even more fortunate to be on the path to Shambhala. My path there is much longer than yours, but we mustn’t give up.”
“I won’t give up, Ajee. I started out looking for this place for myself, to answer questions of who I am. And now I want to find it so I can learn how to help everyone. And in truth, if it were just a journey for myself, I may have abandoned it long ago. I now go on for the benefit of everyone: friends I’ve lost, friends like you, in fact I almost gave up hope that this place even existed and lost scope of why I wanted to find it, but now, my friend, you have renewed hope in me.”
“Glad I could help, Jack, but you’ll never find the wise man, let alone Shambhala, if we don’t keep moving.”
Bahi breathes in a breath mixed with laughter, and together they walk along the open plains. A cold mist sets upon the otherwise dry field dotted with pine trees. Bahi stops for a moment to rest his leg. The late morning sun quickly dries the dampness that permeates the air from the long night. Feeling the warmth on his face he can no longer see his breath as the day progresses. Ajee saunters over and begins to lick Bahi’s wounded leg. “Hee hee, that tickles, ouch!” Bahi cries out.
“Sorry, Jack.”
“No worries, it’s just a bit raw still.”
Shambhala Page 14