I’ve been sitting here for a long time watching these fish striving to beat their brothers out of another morsel. A few minutes ago, a pilgrim threw food to the fish and gave the leftovers to anxious monkeys. A cow hastened to grab what they hadn’t gathered, and the man immediately kicked her in the nose to shoo her away. Why? Isn’t she the ‘mother of all creatures?’ This sight amazed me, but there are many like it. There’s no compassion here, and that is what I need the most. I’m in this holy place, and I’m overcome with deep sorrow. In my mind, I liken these ravenous fish to aggressive people trampling each other. The mouths gaping at me flash like the guns pointed at me in Lebanon, like the machine gun I myself pointed at others. If not here, in this serene place, where will I find peace? One thing is clear to me. This is not the life I wish to live.
(Chapter 3)
The outlines of the broad-shaded cedars blackened against a red sky, and the heavy scent of resin filled the air. Kangra Valley had already descended into night, but above it the clouds played in a sunset bloodbath. The rapid thickening of clouds swelling up in the skies promised rain soon. The first thunder echoed after a distant lightning. Whoever wasn’t carrying an umbrella hastened his steps now. The patrons of illuminated cafés looked up at the sky, nodding gently at its vicissitudes. Deep in thought, Roi walked up Temple Road on the way to his guesthouse. Despite the chill that had overtaken the evening, sweat rolled down his back. It had been several weeks since he’d followed Lama Tenzin to McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala.
(Chapter 4)
The daily topic in Lama Gen La’s class was relationships. There was no heat in the room, and a chill permeated it. The students wrapped themselves in thick shawls. Only Lama Gen La wore the usual monk’s garb with a thin shawl over it, revealing a completely exposed arm.
“Our attitude to others has three elements: attraction, neutrality, and repulsion,” the Lama started. “The division is clear: we are attracted to those close to us, to the ones we love, to those in whom we find something pleasant. We are neutral towards most people, passing them by without noticing them, without expressing an opinion, without lingering or showing concern. We feel repulsion towards those who hurt us, scare us, or threaten us,” Lama Gen La explained and laughed. “When we relate to others, we require something in return, and when we do not get it, we are offended. We’re usually nice to those who are welcoming to us, right? We would not smile to someone who appears hostile. Let’s think for a moment about a person who repulses us. Why, in fact, does this happen? Are we treating him the right way? Imagine someone who does something unforgivable in your opinion. Now imagine one of your best friends doing the same thing. Would you treat him with the same rigidity and hostility?
“Why is it that a good friend, a beloved person, can suddenly become an insufferable nuisance? How is it that someone very close to us becomes a complete stranger, sometimes even an enemy? And how is it that sometimes we seem like strangers to our friends, or as threats to them? Have we changed that much? Have they changed? This, of course, is not likely. The inner attitude and personal attribution are what changed. After all, what do we know of the other, his experiences, his thoughts, or his feelings? Every person has different perceptions and feelings. Perhaps we overdid our affection towards a friend or a loved one? Perhaps we exaggerated certain positive aspects beyond all proportion? Perhaps we developed expectations that included, so to speak, the other as part of us? Perhaps we magnified the shortcomings of the person that repulses us? Is it possible that this person reflects our own fears or some qualities in ourselves that we detest? Perhaps it is specifically in connecting with one who repels us, in comprehending the reason for our repulsion, that we can understand things about the other, and thus…about ourselves. After all, even our best friends were strangers at one time in the past. At first they were unidentified strangers, and then identified strangers. Paths crossed, we met, a connection was formed. Based on what? Based on identification, interest, and reciprocity. Isn’t it possible to identify with every person; isn’t it possible to find a common interest with every person, or establish a relationship based on reciprocation? The understanding that our best friends used to be strangers allows us to internalize the fact that every stranger is a potential friend,” Lama Gen La sermonized with his usual tranquility. Roi opened his eyes and looked at his teacher, who spoke with his eyes closed and his hands in his lap. He noticed a vein in the teacher’s bare arm, throbbing deeply. The rapid throbs were in total contrast to the serenity shrouding the man.
“At a sufficient level of openness, you could connect even with the enemy. You could identify with his desires, and of course, with his suffering. When we are angry at others, when we sense repulsion, what happens to our feelings? Does it help us to reach serenity? Do we cause the other to change? Of course not! All we do is to make ourselves feel threatened, to feel uncomfortable in the space that the other person inhabits. These things affect him too. In fact, we are limiting our comfort zone – if not eliminating it entirely.
(Chapter 9)
“How was the lesson today?” she asked.
“We spoke about relationships. Since then I keep thinking: what is friendship? What’s your opinion?”
Dolkar shrugged and laughed.
“What do you think?” he asked again.
“Tell me what you think,” she asked, gently elbowing him in the stomach.
“I think…” he started and fell silent. He pulled his chair closer to her. “I think that friendship implies three things. The first is love – that undefined but very palpable emotion,” he emphasized. Dolkar gulped at the mention of ‘love.’ “The second is reciprocity. If love is the foundation needed in a person in order to connect to another, it has to exist in both people. Right?”
“And what’s the third thing?” she asked, placing down the cup of tea she had agreed to order.
“The third thing is time,” he said. “I mean, time is actually an external factor, but we must not dismiss it. It’s hard to explain, but time passing has its own advantages. It enables us to collect shared experiences, deepen the acquaintance, and test it against different events.”
“So give me time,” she murmured and drew her face closer to his. Roi took hold of her hands and kissed her lips. He knew he wanted her.
(Chapter 10)
