Dharma Sutra

by David Pugh

  ‘Eyeing the ladies again, Jeffrey?’ Issa seemed to be admiring them too, ‘did you enjoy the fisher woman’s little show this sundown?’

  Damn the man, he was already outmanoeuvring me before we had barely sat down. How was he doing this? He clearly had mindreading ability, which wasn’t that unusual, my German friend in the Philippines was pretty good at guessing my thoughts. In truth I guessed Issa had arrived at the beach early and had been discretely monitoring me from the cover of a beach shack. I told him my theory and he laughed again.

  ‘If you wish but don’t be so defensive,’ he called the waiter, ‘there is nothing wrong with liking the company of women; I’m not being judgmental.’

  Two bottles of Kingfisher Strong arrived, and the waiter deftly poured them to the brim of the ice-cold glasses, keeping the bottle neck just under surface for a smooth finish.

  ‘La première gorgée de bière et autres plaisirs minuscules,’ Issa raised his glass

  ‘To Philippe Delerm!’ I clinked his glass, ‘I’ve read him too, your French is excellent.’

  ‘I did say I have a gift for languages,’ a look of bliss as that first taste of beer took hold, ‘Would you like to continue in Welsh?’

  ‘You are clever guessing I’m a Cymro, I don’t have that much of an accent!’ I was really going to enjoy this evening.

  ‘Now, if you don’t mind, can we order their famous chilly fish and chips?’ Issa enquired, ‘We’d better order two full plates though, it’s not a night for miracles!’

  ‘Look,’ I intended the evening to go well, ‘I don’t know how best to begin our conversation, I’m the sceptic but I don’t want to come over as an interrogator.’

  ‘I honestly understand where you are coming from,’ Issa was relaxed with the knowledge that I couldn’t outwit him.

  ‘You want to believe that I am telling you the truth, everyone wants their own interpretation of belief to be correct. I know you have been disillusioned by what you call Christianity; believe me, I am more disillusioned than you. You are also suffering from guilt that you often let your sexual desires overcome your rational thinking. I am going to reinforce what you believe you already know, sex is here as a tool to project your creativity. You already know that sexual desire and artistic imagination come from the same place, the second chakra. What you may not realise is that sexual imagination is the easiest route to releasing the dimethyltryptamine in your brain; the drug paints your dreams and helps your body die when your time comes. You are on a quest to learn how to control it and release it at will. My counter self used the pain of crucifixion to release all of his DMT in one rush, leaving his body much sooner than the authorities would have liked. Unfortunately, his mission ended to too early. He went back to Jerusalem and the world to tell humanity how natural the death process was and how death could be manipulated by the way one lived one’s life. Whatever form of Heaven you want can be yours, to quote, “In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you.” He died a bit sooner than he expected and wasn’t able to finish explaining the beauty and simplicity of the true message he wanted to deliver, hence his last words, “Father forgive them; for they know not what they do.” Then that bastard Saul moves in and takes what he wants from the little he understood of my counterpart’s teachings, to found the Church you and I despise so much.’

  The chilly fish arrived along with two more Kingfisher Strong.

  ‘I can see that you’re having to take a lot in, let’s lighten the conversation,’ Issa raised his glass, ‘here’s to the Santana Bar or better still to Carlos Santana, a fine musician and a life well lived!’

  ‘Of course you know who wrote his most famous song?’ I watched him over the rim of my glass, I think he knew I was testing this universal knowledge he claimed to possess.

  ‘Black Magic Woman,’ he raised one eyebrow, ’you are trying to find out if I really know more about you than I could possibly perceive from some mindreading trick?

  ‘It was written by Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac fame and I know he was a former, if brief, boyfriend of your wife, Sylvia, and that one of the greatest moments in her teenage life was walking into the Top Rank club, Brighton, with the current number ten in the charts playing, Fleetwood Mac’s Green Manalishi, May 1970!’

  Issa laughed at the look on my face; what he said was true, and I lost my appetite.

  Chapter 57: Everybody Knows

  Behind the gyrating Kingfisher girl room dividers the walls of the Santana Bar were decorated with large Japanese classical paintings, courtesy of a visiting Osaka artist, in return for food, beer and lodging in the hotel. They were extremely well executed, with scenes of geisha and samurai giving the club a strange otherworldly atmosphere. Sitting opposite me, Issa had indeed created another world, where either sublime mind reading and trickery were the norm or here really was indeed the Son of God.

  ‘Son of Man!’ he was inside my head again, pre-empting my every thought.

  ‘You are making me feel more than naked,’ I said, ‘there is no hiding place from you is there?’

  ‘In every belief system that is the common rule, you cannot hide from your god,’ he smiled benignly.

  ‘So now you are my God?’ I was ready to believe that he was.

  ‘Despite all your travelling, Jeffrey, you have never really shaken off those drops of water from your christening. I’m here to tell you that you don’t need to; you are close to understanding the truth of the spiritual realm. You know that there is only one God, if you wish to call Him/Her that, Elohim, the God I was born to, is a plural noun. You have already come to the truth that Yahweh, Vishnu or whichever of the thousand names humans call on, is only the combined mind of the universe. Furthermore, “He” is also the creation of all people who have ever lived and who are still living. No one ever dies; they still live in every single moment of the life that each created in every carnation. The universe exists to record those moments in multi-dimensional light, form and sound, outside that creation of humanity, Time. As you have often discussed with your son, if everything that ever was still is, then Time is an irrelevance.’

  He paused this as yet brief dissertation, to ask me if I could order a bottle of Officer’s Choice. He found the constant need for the toilet when drinking beer one of mankind’s little nuisances but had to admit that finally relieving one’s bladder, after holding it in a long time, could be a pleasure as good as sex.

  ‘Now tell me, do you have need for sex?’ I really needed to hear his opinion on the subject which had troubled me most of my life.

  ‘Of course, I need sex, look at me I’m a young man,’ he stood up to show me his lean body with a flourish of both hands, ‘nice incarnation, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ll tell you why we love sex, we are addicted to oxytocin, and those who are clever enough, like you, use it to enhance their creativity. You know you were plagued by sexual fantasies during your creative years but you fought against it. Had you embraced the sexual side of your nature more, you wouldn’t have felt so fucked up and you’d have been a greater artist. You are far happier now in your dotage, because you embrace, truly embrace the beauty of sexual desire. You now feel fulfilled; you’re having more sex, even if you have to pay for it and have to use sildenafil citrate to keep it up.’

  I was gobsmacked, ‘You really know everything about me, don’t you?’

  ‘Everybody knows everything about everyone, they just need to tune into the right channel on the cosmic radio and cosmic television if you are really clever. I could show you how to do it, but I’m not sure you are quite ready.’

  ‘Not sure? I thought you just purported to know everything,’ had I outfoxed him?

  ‘Everything that has been is easy, the future is too variable,’ Issa paused, ‘There are infinite futures, all equally real and all interconnected, which makes prediction very difficult even for me.’

  ‘This is like science fiction,’ I replied.

  ‘Science fictio
n has been very important in the development of human understanding. Many, many speculative writings hold truths previously unthought of, perhaps the very thinking of these concepts brings them to reality; who knows?’

  ‘Wait!’ I interjected, ‘You’ve been letting me believe you know everything.’

  ‘You can’t expect me to tune into all that is going on, I need to be asked to intervene or answer the right question.’

  ‘Are you saying that I have invited you into my life; I don’t remember doing so, you asked me to invite you to this bar.’

  ‘You are about to invite me into your life, so I pre-empted you, but I don’t want to talk about that just yet, as I said futures are unpredictable,’ Issa took a long swallow of his whisky.

  ‘Is something bad going to happen?’ I was feeling worried and confused by my easy acceptance of being in a bar with Jesus.

  ‘As I said the future is variable, one thing happens in one dimension, something different in another. So many dimensions, so many versions of the universes, but one thing I can assure you of, one of your own pet beliefs is true. You won’t see any Little Green Men out there, not unless you digest more magic mushrooms.’

  Chapter 58: Seducing Angels

  I awoke next morning to see a young man, on the flat rooftop opposite, flying a kite made from a black plastic rubbish sack. The pure joy on his face was inspiring, there was little wind and it was as if the kite was held up by the simplicity of his pleasure. For a moment he was escaping the drudgery of life in the fishing village, escaping to some place he could only dream of or watch on television; that great vendor of discontent. I couldn’t help thinking of my own son and hoped he was finding fulfilment in The Gambia. I’ve been full of dread and foreboding since Issa appeared in my life. The joy of his conversation is tinged by the price I might have to pay for converse with this emissary of the Master of the Universe.

  I’d arranged to meet him on that remote stretch of beach where he first entered my life. I was too uncomfortable with the strange looks I got in his company. I saw a handsome young man in his late twenties, God knows what others were seeing, maybe their worst nightmare.

  ‘Where’s the beer?’ was the first thing he said to me.

  ‘Issa, it’s 9am, don’t you think it’s a bit early?’ I suppose his early life was spent drinking wine and beer like a Roman, safer than the water.

  He replied quoting Jimmy Buffet, ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere!’

  ‘How about we have a beer when it’s actually five o’clock here?’ I paused, ‘I enjoy a sundowner, just like the former colonials of this country.’

  I wanted to know more about his enlightenment, so he continued his story.

  ‘I knew I was different, I found that I had the ability to read any writing and understand any tongue. After accepting the theory of reincarnation, I had an understanding of the collective knowledge, inherited from previous incarnations. What you must understand is thought is universal, the circumstances of our birth translate the thoughts to words; you believe that you are thinking in English but your first language was Welsh. When did the transition of thought and dreams change language? The answer is that they didn’t, you just chose to interpret those abstract ideas in your head; you need to return to that abstract state, as in meditation.’

  His face was actually quite radiant as he continued, ‘Acknowledging that the Buddha was a Hindu, I studied more on this ancient philosophy, seeing parallels between stories of my own birth and Krishna’s. My mother had told me that an angel had appeared to her and impregnated her with the seed of God. I just felt sorry for my father’s obvious cuckolding, I’m sure my real father was a stunning creature to have so easily seduced Ma with that story. Okay, I was the firstborn but Ma and Pa really went at it after I was born, I had four brothers and a lot of sisters, I lost count because Ma had more kids after I left home. The angel story really turned Pa on; the thought of a divine creature screwing his wife gave him an almost perpetual hard-on. As a carpenter he never had a problem with his wood, and Ma was forever reliving her seduction by her angel lover, I assure you it’s an experience no woman recovers from. A bit like your Sylvia and your black friend Remus.’

  This was certainly not the man my mother worshipped.

  ‘I suppose you are quite a wow with the ladies yourself?’ I was curious to know about his sex life but didn’t want to interrupt his flow.

  ‘Oh yes, I’m a hit with the ladies, I know exactly what pushes their magic button and I’m always happy to put a smile on their faces, just like that first Krishna. Send me the milkmaids and I’ll produce more cream than they could imagine possible.’

  Damn, I really liked this man; I wished I’d met him when I was in my twenties.

  ‘Jeffrey, I think you’ve learned that it’s never too late to have good sex; I’m sorry about the erectile dysfunction though, but it’s all in your head. Man was designed to keep on producing children until his dying day. The fact that women no longer have the childbearing ability around fifty is not a design fault; the poor darlings need the rest. What it does prove is that men were not intended to be monogamous.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ I grinned, ‘I’m not destined for the eternal fire then but do continue the Krishna story.’

  ‘The only eternal fire you’ll know is in your loins. Fortunately, you have those eager young Thai women to help you there, they really know what their pussy is for, bless them.’

  ‘Uh, Krishna?’ I’d be happy to continue the subject of sex and guilt but now I needed to know the truth of this man.

  ‘I turn up here to find that he was known as Kristna in the Odia language, I liked the sound of it. I was preparing to reinvent myself and return home to spread the word that humankind should stop fearing death and changed my name to Issa Kristna, I never liked Yeshua. There was already a famous Yeshua in the Torah, the one who brought down the walls of Jericho, bloody bunch, aren’t we? I really wanted to see an end to war and killing, even Krishna the first, well maybe first, killed his uncle. You should ask ISKON how they live with that. Bloody good business that bunch have made out of religion just like that bastard Saul exploited my twin’s teachings, well, my teachings really. He made a good living out of being the first Christian guru and died a rich man from all those donations His Church received. He was never executed, you’ll find there is no evidence of that. The Catholic Church had to beatify him to give themselves credence in the tenth century. “Paul” paid his taxes and Rome welcomed him with open arms as their kind of guy, an entrepreneur. No shortage of women devotees too; worse than Charles Manson, Saul could talk women into doing anything for him but fair dos he didn’t ask them to kill anybody, though Saul looked the spit of Manson. Very awry reincarnation there, Charlie boy was close to the truth but the drugs fucked him up; which brings me to my problem.’

  ‘The drugs fucked me up too, not many realise how powerful the psychoactives can be. I was still that bit unsure of representing myself as some kind of saviour of humankind; I knew I was intending to make a living in the yogi business but the Brahman wasn’t happy with me revealing too much, he wanted to cleanse me. This voice in my head told me to go to this beach, take the psilocybin and the truth would be told. Our Heavenly Father tricked me; on my trip I saw the pure, clean side of my nature, a being of divine love with the simple message to love one another. He did have amazing inner beauty, part of me longed to be like that, but I was too much of a cynic, I knew too much. I really loved this gentle being but I was scared of his naïvety, it would be the death of him, nonetheless my wanting brought him into being. When I came down I found this divine creature stroking my brow, he was cleaner than me, inside and out, I was in awe of what I could be and do you know, he felt like my child. I so much wanted to protect him from the world but he just kissed my cheek and started his walk back to an untimely death. I was lessened by his departure but the truth still stayed with me. I knew that my message was intended only for the ears of the few, the guardians o
f the cosmos, the Chosen Ones.’

  He was staring directly at me, ‘Yes, Jeffrey Dharma, come on down!’

  Chapter 59: The Reluctant Disciple

  ‘Woaw!’ I stopped him right there, ‘What is this, me a Chosen One, you’ve got that wrong!’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ he touched my hand as if he had to prove his substance, an electric shock ran through me, like reciprocal love.

  ’You wouldn’t be seeing me right now if you didn’t believe in me, it is the way. Religion is constructed by your personal belief system, if you want to believe in the reward of Heaven for living a good life, you will get it. You may be very disappointed when you get there though, it would certainly not suit you, as you’d want more. Heaven is actually a permanent state of limbo, dropping out of the process of Samsara, to which the universe is bound.

  ‘Your guru, Leonard Cohen is a Chosen One, he knows he has the gift and uses it to enlighten those who will listen. He will know when his time will come and will leave the world with one final treatise of knowledge gained, moving on peacefully, knowing he has lived a good and true life. You need to sing about what you’ve learned, tell the people the true message, and two others will help you, one of whom you know surprisingly well. You two are destined to be a part of a new trinity, a yin to your yang and another will be the balance and glue between you.’

  ‘I have a horrible feeling that I know the yin you are talking about,’ I probably had a look of almost horror on my face, ‘not the Gambian, it isn’t possible?’

  ‘Now why should Remus Jallow jump into your head?’ Issa was playing with me again.