Cup of chai

"The more you know about the universe, the more it becomes pointless" Physics Nobel Prize Winner.

My monk is in the Temple this morning, which means no computer class. I will use this time to treat myself, writing a note, reguardless of the time and rupees it takes.
As I am going through emotional waves, again faced with myself, my faults, my ignorance, my doubts and my fears. Ignorance, which pushes away the precious things in life. All I can do is keep on learning and working with humbleness, keeping some hope for the romantic and hopeless fool i am.

"When I have doubts, i say fuck it and go for it" says Niels, a Scottish future PhD in physics on global warming.

"Life is a gift" says the muslam Kashmirian in the little jewerly store where I have been hanging out, with Dave and Ursulla, 2 older Europeens.
We sat one evening as the Kashmirian pulls out pieces of folded paper, each containing gems from India, and one amber from Mexico. As we talk about stones, with the lights down, we watch tiny diamonds shine on the ceiling as artificial stars. The coconut jar contains a beautiful emerald, and another piece of paper a round cut aqua marine, a very rare cut for such a stone.

"One more chai for the road", we say!

I wish I could say life is a gift. WSBurroughs words echoing in my head "This is a prison planet" itself echoing the gnostic belief of the body being a prison.

The truth is that I do not know what life is or is not. The Great Mystery I like to call it, making the absurdity less absurd and hence more manageable. I don't believe anyone who tells me they know what life is, I can only listen.

The Kashmirian asks me:
" If you have a war between your mind and your heart, which of it will win?"
"The agreement between the both" I reply, "because the heart alone can be silly, it is so full of blind love. And because the mind alone can become stupid, from thinking too much. So, the heart and the mind agreeing together is the winner of this war. " Dave and the Kashmirian look at me. They both seem happy with the answer. The answer is not from me actually, but thank you to the one that taught me this lesson which I can now share with others.
I take the time to pick a little Tibetain turquoise, with 3 stones on each side. The Kashmirian will set it for me on a little string finished by a crystal. It's a gift to myself, 10 little stones, as i have to learn to do things for me, and spend money on myself. A symbolic gift, for me from me.

"Another chai for the road"!!

This week end, the road lead me to Norblinka Institute, the Center for the conservation of Thangka paintings. Set in a beautiful japanese garden setting, the school hosts some of the Thangka monk Masters and students, along with wood work and various clothes designs. The finest lines, drawn with a brush made out of one hair, pulling drops of gold around the gods and oracles with an unshakable hands. Each painting taking up to a year to make it, they are ordered by the Dalai Lama and other riches of the world. Fabric appliques, outlined with a horse hair. This saturday was a special day, the yearly art competition bringing Tibetains together, gathered for dances, chants and a good meal. Luckily, I meet Angelique, a french woman from Provence, who has been doing volunteer work in the slums of India for a few monthes. With her I meet Christopher, a french business student from Paris, who has been doing the accounting of the Institute for almost 2 years. We're invited to the meal as I meet more travellers from all parts of the world.
A fine day.

On Sunday i was invited to a Tibetan Birthday party, by Choeyang (the morning monk). Bd for a one year old kid, by Baghsu, the near by river. The little girl, who was given her name by the Dalai Lama, gets dressed up in traditional clothing with her young and proud mam. In front of the cream fluffy cake, the birthday girl sees the monks coming to put the white scarf of Tashi Delek, meaning good luck around her neck. One by one they pass in front of her, then the family. The food is served with a full meat lunch, the monks eat first, like the alpha wolves they are for the Tibetan society. Right after the meal, the rain starts, in a minute the big gaz stove, bucket of noodles and plates of food are put away. Those people know how to pack a lunch, it is their lives, all travellers from afar. The monks are the first ones to go.
We end the evening watching Tibetan videos, which they all love, in a small room packed with everyone, the glasses of tibetan milk tea never ending.

"Where does all the knowledge that we have come from? Where does everything comes from?" asks the Kashmirian as Dave and I are sitting on the side walk with a morning chai. I am supposed to
answer "god", what else could it be. I hesitate a minute to answer.
"You want me to say God, right?"
"Of course" exclaims the Kasmirian, " everything comes from god!"
No arguments can be brought to this logic, of course everything comes from god, I agree.
He passes a muslam CDRom to me as I go my way.

On the way to my room, I meet Neils, the physist and Shan and Shawn, a nice couple from Canada. We go for a wood oven pizza, on the roof of Carpe Diem. I have a bowl of nooles, my stomach being
a bit upset and not being hungry, I force myself to eat.
We haden't seen each other fo a few days, so we catch back on our activities. We speak of movies a lot, we laugh a lot. The evening ends up with the owners of the restaurant, a bunch of young and hype Nepalese.

They bring out 2 guitars, and a djembe, as we each get a beer. Neils and Shawn are musicians, the instruments pass from ands to hands, from tunes to tunes. Under an almost full moon, we sing the Redemption songs, the Oasis and the Beatles, a couple classic hippie songs "aannddd put the loaad riiigt on meeee", and the amazing
Califonia Hotel.
"This song is about Vietnam" Shawn says.
"Oh, I thought it was about a crazy house in California?"
"maybe its about a veterans home for Vietnam vets" we laugh.

I sit and watch Venus move through the sky, planet of Love and Aphrodite, of Lucifer and Jesus. The first and the last watching over us. I sit and think of the beauty of the moment, I think of absurdity and it's many consequences. One of them is the extreme beauty it can create, people from everywhere, all brought in this roof by diferent reasons, all together singing the songs we all know. I think of the tantric buddhism filling emptiness with god forms, all disappearing in visualization, all becoming the Buddha again, himself disappearing to come back again. We create those forms to fill the emptiness, as
mirors in which to face ouselves and our many forms, themselves disappearing again and again, only to reappear to fill the void.

Alice in Wonderland painted on the walls, sits with us and her group of magickal friends, the rabbit and the others, Karma Police and the sounds of the music unifying strangers.

Thanks music and friends for making me forget my worries for a moment, thanks to all the artists that make life lighter and give sense to the emptiness, for the people to play and rejoyce over. Forgetting the pains for a moment, meeting new friends, being together, sharing chords. All transforms, as I go for dream land back to my room.

"Relax" says Abj, one of the Tibetans in the morning computer class as we cross each other this morning. He saw yesterday that I had things on my mind.
"When I am worried, I go relax" he repeats.

"Another cup of chai" for the road.

"We're all in queue, waiting for our turn to know what we have to do" says the Kashmirian in his jellewery store.
"Do we decide what it is we want to do, or does the turn tells us what to do? " I ask.
"You have to find what you want to do. Do the things what you know are good for you" he answers while cleaning his rings and shiny stones, one by one, carefully, as a prayer.

After the cup of chai, I come here, and write those few words.

Writing and sharing is something I'd like to do.....I will keep on writing... hoping that one day, those words could bring some joy to some people, as words of others have brought me joy.

You can see 2 very short videos from the birthday party at Baghsu. Video taken by Choeyang.
baghsu -mc-leod
tibe tan-bd-party