MONK

Before Enlightment: Write code ... have tea break ..code again

After Enlightment: Write code ... have tea break ..code again

I looked up, red droplets were already on there way, seeking their target like bullets from a  riffle ripping through the air with high velocity, gaining momentum in slow-motion, closing in on its victim. I was exactly in the line of fire, a sitting duck running to catch a bus in motion. Droplets as beautiful as they looked with shades of red, enclosing minute bits of pan leaf, flying viciously, twisting and twirling, adding a in-swing to its motion. 

I had to be quick; some kind of sudden rush of high-octane energy rippled through my body, boosting my reflexes and propelling me upwards towards the door. Holding the handle in one hand, I pulled my imbalanced body inside in the nick of time. Thus, a great escape from being a pan splatter victim.  

I was on my way back from kushalnagar to Bangalore. Standing inside a KSRTS bus, all crammed up, with no vacant seats, whining babies, puking kids, dirty windows to top it all, hot weather and slow moving bus on a bumpy road ...... a perfect torture recipe after a wonderful trip.

Mysore arrived after a 3 long hours, people started getting up from there seats.  I got a glimpse of vacant seats finally. I rested myself on one of them by the window. A bunch of saffron clad Buddhist monks got into the bus. One of them sat next to me. Two college going Muslim boys sat right behind us. They kept muttering away in Urdu.

The monks mere presence made me feel a saintly aura emerging from him, an instant freshness in my soul, like breathing in air after eating a fresh mint. The whole atmosphere changed for some reason. A complete ambience shift leading to a whole new semblance of thoughts.     

He had those Kolhapuri chappals on, fully saffron clad, glasses on, very short hair, a close to perfect "Michel Scofield" hairstyle.

“Hi” I said, he responded with a “Hi”.

“So where are you coming from??” I asked. 

“From Golden Temple, Kushalnagar”, he replied.

“I have been to the Golden temple. Nice place!!”,  I rejoined.

“What plans in Bangalore?? ” I asked.  

”I will stay in Bangalore for a day or two, then head to Dharmsala”, he replied.

“So from where are you originally” I asked. 

“From Tibet”, he replied.

“When did you come to India?? ”

“I came here fifteen years back”

“How old are you now??”

“Thirty”

“So when did u decide you wanted to be a monk”

“When I was 11 years old, my parents didn’t want to me become a monk, but I had decided and eventually they agreed”,

“You took a major life decision at a very young age. At your age most of us couldn’t even think of anything but Food, study and play. What made you take such a bold decision at an young age??”, I asked. He was taken aback by the question, started laughing.   

 “I don’t know why, but whenever I saw a monk, I wanted to be like them, dress like them, talk like them. There was some attraction, an inner calling of belongingness. I felt like one of them. In my family only me and my uncle are monks, I have not even seen him, he left before I was born”, he replied. 

“So how is your family now??”

“They are fine, my sisters are married, and brother is working, dad is fine. I have not seen them ever since is came to India“.

“O ok, so how is your mother?”,

“She …. She is no more”, he replied

“O I am sorry”

“She died a month back”

“Did you go see her ??”,

“No, I spoke to my sister over the phone that’s all”

 “How are you feeling now ??”,

“Hmm … I did feel a bit, But I shouldn’t be feeling anything, can’t help it. I have still not reached a level where I don’t feel anything”

“There is nothing wrong in feeling things”

“No we monks are not supposed to feel pain, grief, sorrow, but it’s very hard to reach that level. It takes years and years to reach that high state of mind control”

“Are there monks who quit and go back to family life?”

“Yes there are monks who back to family life”

“One more question, don’t mind”

“Ya ask”

“After you become a monk, didn’t you get attracted to any girl ?”, I blurted out, to which the monk kept laughing avoiding the answer …..”Err … I mean, when we are 11 years old, we normally don’t feel anything for a girl, they are one of those irritating characters, better to be avoided, and when we grow up things change, the avoidable becomes unavoidable. The nature takes its course installing changes in our mind and body and the unthinkable (girl) becomes the most thinkable subject in our thought process”.  I asked with interest.

The monk continued laughing. “We monks should not feel all this. Sex, attraction is a strict NO NO”, he chuckled.

 “How do you avoid them?”

“We have certain tricks, Don’t look into their eyes”, he replied, like women were the source of all evil in this world…”don’t laugh at them or with them, don’t talk too much, just keep it short and simple, never make silly talk, silly jokes and that’s it you are free”. He explained.

“THAT’S IT !! ??“ , I replied with wonderment.

“Yes that’s all, it’s easy”,

“Wow a million-dollar advice from an expert” I wondered.

    

 The bus inched forward slowly in traffic in Mandy. There were a lot of vegetable vendors around, a huge crowd gathering busy buying stuff.  A Muslim girl was standing outside covered fully in black with her beautiful face, eyes visible. The two guys sitting just behind us got all excited like they were high on a tequila shot full of testosterone .  

“Woh potte ko dekho re (See that girl)”, said one to the other all excited, and looking through the window at her. One of them started waving at the girl and calling her with a high voice…

“Begam kaisi ho, naam kya hein tera ??”, screamed one and gave her a flying kiss, not bothered about anyone around. Like they were some emperors of this world and had all the right to choose anyone they want to be their wives.

In the melee, a tall hulkster emerged out of the crowd with a fit of rage, ran towards the eve- teasing guys, leapt and took a shot at the one next to the window with his big fists. Landing a blow right on his nose. The bus started moving.

“Sallo ********* , ****** *******, ruko”, the hulkster started throwing abuses at them, as he ran after the bus.

The bus stopped at the traffic junction after moving few yards. The hulkster ran and came towards the bus. Blood started to trickle down the nose of one of the eve-teasing victim.

“ Woh …woh aagaya  ….  bus chad gaya re (He .. he has come, is inside the bus)“, squeaked one of them all terrified, trembling.

The hulkster removed a long sharp iron hook from his back, wielding it with a cold threatening look. Both the boys almost peed their pants as everyone looked at the HULKSTER terrified.  
 

All the Neurons in the body started transmitting signal to each-other jamming the inner network causing limitless FEAR.   

   

 ******************** TO be Continued ******************

 

“We live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality. We are that reality. When you understand this, you see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything. That is all.”