If he goes and doesn’t return to me, I will lose my soulmate, my best friend, my everything. Oh Johannan! Do not be a fool, searching for truth in the myths and the fables of the elderly. I’ll forever be in a darkened abyss, never to know happiness again because of you. How can you be so cruel?
CHAPTER 3
Here comes Mama!
Johannan faced a battle within himself, one person against an army of guilt as he felt the tremble of her slim body in his embrace, every shudder like myriads of soaring needles penetrating the membrane of his soul. He held her even closer and whispered in her ear. He could sense a change, almost as if she had given up on him coming back. “I will return to you, my love.”
Ayushi adjusted her head as if to stare into his face. He had never called her my love before; something was different. He grabbed her hands and pressed them firmly against his heart. It pounded faster than ever, overflowing with passion and life like the river after heavy rainfall. “My beloved Ayushi, you are always with me, and you live in here. I’ll take you with me wherever I go.”
Johannan felt that the strong, intense love he had for her would give him the unstoppable desire and strength to return to her. Just that inner vision of them living together, happily, with a small family of their own, made him feel invulnerable to pain and unflinching towards all challenges ahead. He pictured himself playing the flute to settle their firstborn while Ayushi gently rocked their baby to sleep. It was an amazing thought, two childhood best friends sharing something so special and so unique. Creating a family and taking care of one another. He stared at his hands, clenching his fists tightly against all the bad fate that may befall him on his travels, as if his will to survive was manifesting itself in the tightness of his hands.
“I must—I will return to you, Ayushi.”
He went to briefly visit Ketan, Nanda, and Raman to tell them that he would be back one day to share his adventures and to listen to the mischief Ketan had gotten up to while he was away. After a short while, he departed for the Gobi desert, knowing that if he stayed any longer it would just be too challenging to leave. Ayushi cried while everyone else followed behind him as he progressed past the last two huts in the village. She couldn’t stand up, the grief and distress sapped the strength in her legs. She fell to her knees clasping her hands, her face shimmered with tears.
Raman and Ketan stood on opposite sides of her and supported her onto her feet. The door to one of the huts swung open, and a voice of an older woman shouted his name.
“Johannan!”
He stopped; it was Mama Jala. He knew she would come out sometime and demand that he come back. He could hear Ayushi weeping, and it tugged on his heart. Mama Jala rushed over to console her. He knew she would—it was just like her to be so predictable. He could hear her voice.
”Quiet, my child, he will be back.”
Mama knew how intense Ayushi felt about him. She shook her head in disappointment.
“That boy!”
Mama was so protective of Ayushi. He knew she was going to shout at him for disappointing her, but this time he couldn’t listen to her. She didn’t understand what was going on inside him, the day-to-day struggle with his desires. No one did, not his friends, Mama Jala, or even Ayushi.
“Are you really going to leave her like this, in this horrible state, Johannan?”
Discharges of pain ran from his eyes, he couldn’t turn back. But he knew she had just fallen to the ground, and if he turned around, that would be it; he’d rush back and abandon everything.
“Don’t turn around. You must do this,” he ordered himself under his breath.
His nose was almost beginning to run. He could imagine Mama Jala pointing at him with her rolling pin. Johannan didn’t know when he was going to return, but when he returned, he was adamant that he would have the cure with him.
CHAPTER 4
Into the nothingness
Nights of shivering from the cold and days of walking had gone by, and all he could see was the endless forest greenery yielding no signs of him getting any closer. The rich landscape filled with collections of pistachio and jade greens almost seemed to discourage him. He knew he was the only living thing to cross the lonesome wilderness for months. The sounds of his long cloak trailing behind him and flapping in the winds were the only sounds that broke the lifeless silence of the open. Johannan knew he still had far to go, and he hadn’t even reached the tall grassy plains of Tibet yet. He could vaguely see the muddy foothills that led to the plains, and time was closing in on him.
He wasn’t going to let anything get in his way. The clouds gathered over the empty ether, and it began to drizzle lightly. Hundreds of tiny crystal-clear droplets settled on his face, and he squinted his eyes to protect his blurred vision. He was getting wet and cold, but he couldn’t rest, nor was he interested in finding shelter. His heart continued to speak to him, driving him to go out further. His lips were chapped from not eating or drinking, and his frame ached all over.
Johannan’s ardent desire hid all the pain and the discomfort. He continued his travels for weeks, feeding on fruits and roots to fill the recurring hole in his stomach. Ayushi was on his mind. He could see her clearly in the sky when it rained against him. He could hear her in the wilderness where he was all alone. She was there beside him in his heart.
He crossed over the slippery slopes of muddy foothills, concentrating hard on each step and clenching his legs tightly together to stop him from slipping and toppling over.
Johannan made it to the plains of Tibet after a full day of walking through the foothills. The inside of his legs ached badly from clenching them together over a long period, but he was ignorant of the pain. The relief of making it to the plains in one piece made him smile with joy. Now he had to journey to the Yarlung Tsangpo River further north.
Thoughts of how to cross the gushing river troubled him for some time. He had to come up with a way to overcome this vast obstacle, to avoid having to go around the whole river, which would significantly increase the number of weeks in the journey. He decided to take a risk and search for a small fishing village along the muddy banks of the river; if he was lucky enough to find one, he could employ a fisherman to take him to the other side of the river.
Johannan trekked for months on end, and finally he could hear the loud hissing of rushing waters; he was there. He smiled when he thought about his achievement.
CHAPTER 5
The song of hope
Johannan continued to wade through the muddied banks upstream until the waters became calmer. He felt the heat of exhaustion and the warm sensation of moisture trickling down his forehead when he stood still to examine a smoke-flavoured scent in the air. He pointed his nose to the sky, filling his lungs. The scented air carried the aroma of roasted fish and vegetables.
He used the flat of his right hand to shade his eyes from the sun’s intruding glare, trying to focus further on ahead. After exploring for some time, he saw a small boat and a cheerful man, who was nodding his head as he whistled an upbeat melody. The man was stooping down on the riverbanks. He was wearing traditional Tibetan clothing in the form of a male gown. He held both corners of the garment and continually fluttered it like a bird flapping its wings in the direction of the flames. Grey wafts of scented smoke escaped into the atmosphere and dispersed over the river. Johannan moved briskly towards him.
The man turned his head to face Johannan with an ear-to-ear smile.
“Whoa—a traveller!” The man leapt up to his feet, wiping his hands on his clothes. “You’re far out into the nothingness.” At first glance, he could see the dryness around Johannan’s mouth. “You look hungry, my friend. I’m surprised the wild dogs aren’t stalking you for your bones.”
He grabbed one of the skewers with roasted fish. “Here, take this. I just caught them, so they’re fresh, and there’s more than enough for the two of us.”
Johannan reached out and accepted; the fish looked crispy and succulent. “Thank
s to you, that is most kind of you, sir.”
The fisherman swatted the air with his hand. “Come now, don’t mention it, my friend. You are hungry, and all this fish here will go to waste if someone doesn’t eat them.”
Johannan smiled. The man beckoned him to come over and stoop down next to him. Johannan fixed his eyes on the small boat; that was what he needed to get to the other side. The man passed him a helping of his fish, serving it on a wide leaf. Johannan took several bites into its crispy texture, nodding his head with a full mouth to hint that it tasted good. The man squinted and beamed with pride.
Johannan pointed at the fish in his hand, “This fish tastes really good.”
“Thanks, glad you like it. It’s my wife’s secret recipe.” He turned away for a brief moment and mumbled, “Passed down to her from her miserable mother. I was lucky to be able to find most of the ingredients here.”
“Your wife must be a brilliant cook,” Johannan said, pretending not to hear the words “miserable mother.”
“Well, she learned from her mother.” The man shook his head, gazing into the river. “God, I can’t stand that woman,” he continued in a tone above a whisper.
Johannan gawked at the man. “You hate your wife!”
The man chuckled, “Oh no, not her—my mother-in-law! She’s so . . . ah, forget it.” He handed Johannan some roasted vegetables. “Those unruly children, I can’t say anything to them when she’s around. The only time I find peace is when—well, when I’m here, miles away from them all. I keep telling her to take those brats and get out of my house!”
Johannan could see that the man’s mood had changed as soon as he mentioned his home and family. He remembered Mama Jala as soon as the man mentioned his mother-in-law. Mama Jala was a good cook too, but she was really bossy and complained for a long time when you didn’t do what she wanted. Anything Johannan did to upset Ayushi when they were younger would trigger trouble— Mama would pick up her rolling pin and chase him around the village.
“So, you have a girl?” asked the man.
“Yes, she’s at home now . . . in Nepal.”
The man gawked at Johannan. “In Nepal? Goodness, that’s worlds from here. Worlds, my friend. She must be giving you hell to drive you all the way into mainland China without eating. You’re so young too. Shame on her.” He inhaled deeply, shaking his head and tutting, “What a pity! What a pity!”
Johannan laughed; it had been a while since something made him happy. “No, it’s nothing like that, sir. She’s blind, and I’m searching for a cure.”
“A cure in China?” The man’s eyes fully sprung open. “Are you serious? There is no tea in China that can cure blindness, my young friend, you’d better be on your way . . . back home, that is.”
He glanced at the sky and sniggered, then slapped his forehead. “Travellers, only travellers—they seem to be getting younger.”
He released a loud wheezy laugh at Johannan’s expense, “Oh, the gods are generous to show me such a kindness, they must be taking pity on me.”
Johannan felt like an idiot—there was no way he was going to let the man think this of him.
“No, no, not a tea medicine, but a Great Spirit that grants wishes. They say he lives in the deserts north of here.”
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises. A Great Spirit in the north of China, who would have thought.”
The man sat still for a while, then he turned to Johannan and stared at him as if he had suddenly sprouted wings. “Hold on—just a minute, my little friend,” he said, leaning back and wagging his finger. “You are not going off that silly old folk song about the nomads in the desert that were cured by a Great Spirit, are you? It’s just a song, you know.” He laughed, wheezed, and coughed. “Travellers—rich people pay a lot to hear things like this.”
“Tell me about this song.”
The man waved his hands, “Fine, fine, but I’m not singing it. Almost everyone in China knows it. It’s about an old man and his entire family. They were a group of sickly nomads in the Mongolian desert. One day, they met a great wandering spirit who cured them. That’s it.” He stretched to yawn. “Those people were meant to have moved from the desert way of life to settle in the mountains of Altun Shan. It’s all rubbish, though, nothing but bandits up there, my young friend. I think you came out here for nothing.”
The man noticed that Johannan was staring at his boat. “So, you want to use the boat, my friend?”
Johannan grinned, scratching the back of his head. “I need to get to the other side of the river.”
“That’s not a problem, I’ll take you there as soon as we finish eating.”
“Thanks to you, I’m most fortunate to meet someone like yourself on my journey.”
“Don’t mention it, I’m only too happy to help. I’m just grateful for the company, to be honest. I’ve been fishing for hours; just having running waters for company can get boring after a long time.”
They finished eating the fish, and the man took Johannan to the other side of the river.
“Thanks to you once more, perhaps we’ll meet again,” Johannan said, standing on the sides of the bank.
“Perhaps we will.” The man was about to turn around but sprang back as if he had forgotten something. “You know, I’ve been thinking: if you meet that Great Spirit—not that I believe in such things or anything—get him to come to my house and rid me of that howling beast.”
Johannan gawked at him, “Your wife?”
“Goodness, no—“
“I know, I know, your mother-in-law. I was just teasing,” said Johannan, stretching his arms out to pat the air below his waist.
“Ah, so you’re a bit of a jester on a full stomach!” grinned the fisherman.
Johannan laughed, “It hurts to laugh on an empty one.” An expression of contemplation covered his face, and he held onto his jaw. “Say, have you ever tried just talking to . . .” He thought about what he was going to say. He imagined the man’s response would be something like, I’ve tried that and shouted too. Johannan shook his head, “Never mind—I’ll see you again, perhaps. Who knows, maybe you will be a lot happier next time.”
“Who knows, my friend, I could go back and she’s taken those children and left, or . . .” The man shivered with guilt, “No I shouldn’t say what I was about to say.”
Johannan covered his face to hide a chuckle while the man kept talking. “I had an idea once. I wanted to find someone to come and take her away, but I can’t find anyone I hate that much, not even a bandit. Would you believe?”
The man released a sigh from his stomach. “But we can dream, aye? We—can—dream.” He nodded as a form of goodbye and started to row the boat.
CHAPTER 6
Johannan and Ayushi
Johannan continued on his journey to the cold mountains of Altun Shan. He was always weary of mountains because of the rumours of them being used as a strategic point for bandits to steal and to abduct travellers. It bothered him that at any moment the ruthless mountain bandits could ambush him. His eyes were under stress from being wide-open and staying alert for anything out of the ordinary. He kept moving, trying to maintain a low profile in the treacherous mountains of Altun Shan. He must get to Yumen.
Yumen was the beginning of the Gobi desert. The atmosphere was silent with no sign of life. Could a spirit really be living out here?
It had been months since Johannan had left his home, and he travelled hundreds of miles through forests, rivers, and villages to come here. The real challenge was to keep believing. His feet plunged into the cracked clusters of sand and mud beneath him. The sky was a vacant blue, and the land spared a few shades of brown. That was all he could see. He couldn’t imagine a Great Spirit living out here in such a barren place, but he also knew things were never as they seemed.
The light from the sun charged the ground with a scorching heat. He felt the acidic burn from bulbs of salty sweat that had gathered on his forehead and trickled into his eyes.
He held a long rope behind him, just dragging along the earth in a straight line to make sure he wasn’t walking around in endless circles.
He visualised himself back home with Ayushi, together, up in the hills. They went up there sometimes to get away from the village and enjoy one another’s company. Johannan held her soft grasp within his, “The weather is good today, Ayushi.”
She stretched her arms out, “I can feel the wind, like veils of cool silk brushing against my hand.”
He smiled. From the top of the hills, you could see the entire village and the pillars of smoke billowing from the clay ovens. You could hear the gushing sounds of the river and Comet, the goat, bleating away with the others.
“Tell me about the colour of the sky, Johannan, how does it look?”
“It’s a deep blue with lots of full, white clouds. The grass is a rich green and looks healthy.”
“Yes, the grass feels so soft.” Ayushi pointed her nose to the sky and filled her lungs. “Mama is cooking dal bhat; it smells good.”
“You can smell that all the way up here, Ayushi?”
“Yes, Mama loves to cook with different herbs. It’s her way, and besides that, I can always smell them up here.”
“Wait here,” said Johannan, rushing off. He came back panting with a flower in his hand, “Touch this, can you feel what it is?”
She rubbed her fingertips against it and chuckled, “Of course, it’s a flower, Johannan.”
“Yes, it’s the one Mama crushes to make the sweet scent in your hair. There’re so many up here.”
“Don’t tell her that, or there will be none left,” said Ayushi.
Johannan tittered, “Hold still.” He fixed the flower just above her ear. “There.” Johannan stood back up and admired her beauty. If only she could see her reflection in the waters of the village.
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