the mystery of the kailash trail - book two

7/29/2019 The Mystery of the Kailash Trail - Book Two

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The Mystery of the

Kailash Trail

Book Two

Bharat Bhushan


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The Mystery of the

Kailash Trail

Book Two

Bharat BhushanPre-publication draft manuscript

This is not a publication

This draft copy is being distributed to invitecomments and suggestions

Not for sale or distribution

Being uploaded or distributed for guidance andsuggestions in developing the story


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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

utilised in any form or by any means, electronics ormechanical including photocopying, recording or by any

information storage and retrieval system, without permission

in writing from the publishers.

This is not a publication. This is a pre-publication draft

manuscript of a proposed book and is being distributed for

editing, comments, critics and suggestions. The distribution is

within a limited group of experts, resource persons, people

who are familiar with the Kailash region in Tibet, the aspects

of the pilgrimage in the various religions and those who areinterested in the aspects of development of a story.

Those who receive this pre-publication draft manuscript may

forward it those who may be able to contribute to the editing

and development of the story. There will be errors, mistakes

and contextual wrongs galore. Please do not hesitate to point

them out and inform the author [email protected]

About the book

The oldest mystery known to the Oriental World. It issaid that nobody dares to venture out to walk on theKailash Mountain. And it is also said that those who

walked up the mountain, never returned. In all thesecenturies, they have gone within, never to return.

About the author

Bharat Bhushan

Environment Scientist, Ornithologist. Birder,Birdwatcher, Teacher, Trainer. Eclectic and

Serendipitous Vagrant Traveller. On land, through

books, inside the internet, and deep within the mind.


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VI

They were getting to be tired and desperate as theshadows of dusk started taking over the valley. The

mountains surrounding this particular spot were quitehigh and dusk would probably be totally in control much

before it would take over the Dirapuk or Choku areas,

thought Sangye. He kept looking for the entrance andbegan to accept the fact that they may not be able to spot

it in time before the darkness would prevent any furtherdiscovery. At a gesture from him, and knowing what he

would be thinking, Yeshe and Norbu accompanied himto the animals and began to unload the supplies.

They would have to establish a shelter fast enoughbefore it would be too cold to move around. There was

sufficient shelter here to take support from the rockwalls and the huge boulders that had fallen close enough.

The shelter could come up within the spaces between therock walls and the boulders and could also allow for theanimals to rest inside. Dawa began to collect dry twigs,

branches and material to get a fire going inside the groupof boulders that they had chosen. The mastiffs were

moving around quietly and seemed to be glad that a

campfire was finally lit up.

They sat around the fire, having placed the animals deepwithin the hideout. Yeshe and Norbu had cut down some

long poles and branches and had made a make-do shed.It made for quite a comfortable cave-like shed and theywould need it, Sangye told Dawa, for the night in this


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higher valley looked like it would be fiercer than theDirapuk area. They had walked out from the monastery

for only about four hours and yet, it seemed like theyhad been climbing steadily, though they were in the floor

of the valley.

Dawa looked up at the narrow distance between thewalls of the valley at the location of the fallen boulders.He pointed out the gap at the top and said, Old man

from Qinhai, do look at that narrow valley that isblocked out by these boulders. This is indeed a strange

valley. We have climbed quite a bit, and if theseboulders have come down this valley, they could havespread out for quite a distance. We are only at the

entrance. What if we do manage to get inside theseboulders through any entrance? What if we get trappedwithin these maze of boulders?

Yeshe and Norbu heard Dawa but did not respond. They

were busy cooking dinner for everyone and were alsoseparating the food supplies for the yaks and horses and

the mastiffs. Sangye patted Bzanba, his favourite mastiffover the many years that he had been coming to thevalley of the Kang Renpoche mountain, and replied,

Old man Dawa, I know. I have also been thinking of

the same problem. It can be quite terrifying if we get

stuck inside the maze and we are unable to get out of itbefore a rainstorm or a snowstorm hits us. The size of

these boulders worries me. There may be larger onesbehind them.

Larger boulders may not be a problem. They mayprovide space between them for us to walk through.What if there is a pile up and some boulders may have


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crashed through. We should be careful before we enterthis area. We should scout ahead, and locate open land

or caves before we enter. We should keep the returnpassage open for fast movement to get back to Dirapuk,

said Dawa, accepting the bowls of Tsampa and noodles.They could afford to indulge in eating well, for Norbuwould travel to Dirapuk tomorrow and return with more

people, supplies and animals.

Sangye added, There must be some very distinct way.How could large animals such as the wild yaks have

walked through? They are not known to climb sheerrock. I have seen some animals on steep slopes, but havenever heard of them hopping from rock to rock. The

passage could be narrow, and the yaks may have walkedthrough in a single line. But they would have knownabout it. We do not know if the yaks returned to thisvalley. They could do so tonight. Remember, thatwolves accompanied the herd of those wild yaks. The

wolves could return earlier.

Norbu looked up worried at the thought. What if thewolves entered this camp hideout of theirs? He would besafer if he slept nearer to the yaks and the mastiffs. The

yaks could frighten of the wolves. He thought back to

the story that he had heard from Brother Tameng and old

man Dawa and the manner of behaviour of the wolves.Would he indeed be safe in this hideout? He thought

back to his worries earlier in the evening. They seemedto be headed into a trap, with this valley that looked like

a box filled up with stones.

Norbu placed his sleeping bag near his yaks, andaccompanied by his mastiff, and made sure that they


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would be comfortable for the night. He had kept thehuge tarpaulin sheet nearby to be ready if there would be

a rainstorm or a snowstorm in the night, and he couldcover up with his yaks and his mastiff. The other two

yaks and Kangryi, the mastiff, had snuggled up against arock wall that had been made warm with the cut-up

bushes and brushwood that Yeshe had lined up. Dawahad set up three small campfires inside the hideout andhad placed a pile of stone pebbles and small rocks within

them to keep warm if the fires were to go down.

He was moving around, fire-to-fire, and adding drywood and twigs and stoking them to make sure that thenight in the hideout would be warm enough for the

animals. He could sleep for short periods of time andcould also wake up in a completely alert manner at thefaintest disturbance. Norbu sat up and watched Dawanearby, intent on relaxing at the fire, and said, Old manDawa, you are wise and you know this valley well. I

have never stepped away from the kora around theKangRenpoche Mountain or the big lakes. I look at you for

guidance. But, I have one question that has beenbothering me since the evening.

Dawa and Sangye looked at Norbu, not surprised that the

young boy was worried. This could happen to anybody.

These mountains did that to many. You could go aroundthese regions like you had the toughest personality, the

best courage and strongest will, and suddenly, you couldbe hit by worries and panic. It had happened to both,

Dawa and Sangye, in many a camping trip. You could

get frightened, having to stay trapped inside your tent orinside a dark cave, through the night. People around theworld did not know the colour of darkness, Sangye often


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said to Yeshe, until they came to the upper Himalayas inTibet, and looked at the night without any lights or fire.

There could be no darker colour of black than the colourof night in these mountains.

Stay in peace, boy, for you are with good friends inthese mountains, said Sangye, Old man Dawa and I,we have many years of travel, camping and wanderingabout in these mountains. We know that it could get

frightening to move into the higher areas, suddenly,without planning or discussing the trek forward. We do

not know where we go. Perhaps, no man has everentered this valley. Tomorrow you will turn back toDirapuk and return with more people, supplies and food

and animals. It will get better and better.

Norbu nodded thankfully, and bowed, showing hisgratitude, and said, I thank you, for you are both wellacquainted with these mountains. I am worried for

another reason. We search for the path of the herd of thelarge wild yaks and we think that these animals came

down from this valley. I have another question. What ifthese wild yaks walked up this valley, wanting to enterthe region beyond, and came to this very same rock wall

and stopped? What if they returned from this spot,

unable to enter, in the rainstorm during the night? What

if they went from here to go through Dirapuk and thenwalked through the Lhachu valley? What if they came

from a different place, from a valley someplace else?

Sangye looked at the young boy with new respect. This

fellow was a thinker, no doubt. He wished that hisgrandson, Yeshe, would also use his brains like thisyoung boy or like the courageous young monk from


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Choku. The old nomad from Qinhai replied, Youngman, you are correct. It could be possible. Anything is

possible in this valley. We do not know. What we nowknow is that there is this valley that is unknown. The

herd of large wild yaks was unknown. The aspect ofwild wolves accompanying wild yaks in a rainstorm wasunknown. There is only one known fact. The fact thatthe tracks of the wild yaks were seen only on the trailleading away from this valley is the only known aspect.

Let us enter this valley. Let us explore the unknown,

said Sangye, and added, We have nothing else to do inour lives, me and old man Dawa. The kind KangRenpoche Mountain has blessed us with this mystery,

and allowed us to pursue it. Who knows what willhappen? The wild yaks may not have come from here.But, an unknown valley is out there, waiting for us toenter it.

***

Would Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha show thedirection? Would there be a sign? Would there be an

indication of what was to be done by him in this strange

turn of events? Was this why he had joined themonastery? Was there some purpose in his life that was

to be revealed now? wondered Brother Tameng. He sat,quietly in meditation, thinking within himself, trying to

clear his mind, trying to focus on the most revered


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Amitabha Buddha, trying to absorb the vibrations of thismagical land of the Thousand Living Buddhas.

Master Rinchen and the younger monk watched him

quietly. They sat patiently, nearby, away, to a corner, outof his line of sight, so as to allow him to come to adecision by himself. This was a difficult moment, MasterRinchen thought to himself. He could guess the dilemmainside Brother Tamengs mind. The young boy was a

dedicated monk and had come over totally inside therealm of searching for knowledge and truth, as would be

shown to him by his own efforts. He had to make thisdecision and he had to be able to carry the courage ofwhat he would determine.

Brother Tameng sat in meditation. He tried to blank outeverything from his mind. He removed event uponevent, out of mind, one after the other. He removed thethoughts of the rainstorm. He searched for the images he

had of the twelve pilgrims that had sat out there in thecircle of stones. He searched for a definite set of images

inside his mind, and removed them. He blanked themout. His breathing began to get more even and his facelooked calmer to Master Rinchen. The yak boys and

horse boys who had gone together to accompany Brother

Tameng came inside the prayer hall and sat quietly,

watching him. They knew there was some special prayergoing on.

He continued to search for other images and kept

removing them. The herd of large wild yaks, the strange

behaviour of the wolves accompanying them, thefearless manner in which the twelve pilgrims stood up,facing the wild yaks and the sudden hailstorm. These


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images were all sought out, one after the other, andremoved from his mind. Brother Tameng knew well

within himself, that if as Master Rinchen suggested, thatthis was a sacred and mysterious Beyul, then it was a

sacred mission for him and the team that would exploreit. He wanted to be prepared for the survey and the

journey, physically and spiritually.

A group of Russian pilgrims, trekking through the route

from Darchen to Tarboche to Choku had come inside theprayer hall. The two pilgrim guides who were to

accompany Brother Tameng gestured to the Russians tostay quiet and to make themselves comfortable in afarther corner of the prayer hall. The pilgrims complied

dutifully and went to the farthest corner and sat down,waiting for a signal to allow them to unpack. One of theyak boys went outside, picked up two jars of water and

placed it near the Russians and gestured that it was safefor drinking.

Brother Tameng was sitting straight up, still, silent. He

did not seem to be in any sort of trance, but could beseen to be very calm, peaceful and content. He hadachieved a sort of a blank space in his mind, when he

saw nothing, thought of nothing and contemplated

nothing. He did not even think of the Dharmakaya

Amitabha Buddha, and did not think of the valley of theKang Renpoche Mountain or the mysterious valley. He

was in a position of absolute non-being, if there could besuch a term, and was just waiting. He knew that he

would be told in some manner. He was waiting, but also,

his mind was not waiting.


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This is a difficult concept to explain. You have to bethere and you have to know how to achieve this stage in

meditation. There is no one who can teach you to reachthat exact point and there is no book or theory that helps

explain how to do it. You are only told that you canreach such and such point of nothingness in meditation,and you need to keep trying and trying and trying.Brother Tameng had spent years in meditation and sohad Master Rinchen. They had never come to a situation

where they could claim that they had achieved a stage oftotal nothingness. The paradox, of course, is that when

you are at that stage, you know that you have achievedsomething that cannot be shown off to others. BrotherTameng was now at that point in his meditation, wherein

he had kept on removing image after image of thesituations that had occurred during the night and day,and now he could search for directions without allowingthem to decide it for him.

He understood what he had to do. He had to go to themysterious valley, and join the team that had gone

ahead. He had left behind the aspect of the twelvepilgrims, the circle of stones, the wild yaks, the wolvesand the hailstorm. These would not be the reasons for

which he would enter the Beyul. He would go to the

mysterious valley, because, just because, it existed.

There was the valley, north of Dirapuk, and people hadnot entered it. It could be a sacred Beyul, and Master

Rinchen and the monks of the other monasteries in thisregion would begin a search for any documents, records

or parchments that may turn up. But, he would not wait

for any information.


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In the absence of any expectation, and in the absence ofany dual purpose of trying to seek reasons for the turn of

events, Brother Tameng knew that he would be ready toaccept any situation that he would see, and he would not

avoid any chain of events that may develop because hehad been taught differently, or that the world had knownof only a particular aspect or logic. He would not see itas being illogical, irrational, impossible or non-spiritual.This would be a Beyul that he would have to accept, as it

would reveal itself.

Brother Tameng came out of his meditation and lookedup at the Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha and hummed aslow prayer. Master Rinchen and the younger monk

came near and sat alongside. The yak boys and the horseboys and the pilgrim guides sat respectfully behindthem, at some distance. Master Rinchen led the prayers,humming slowly, turning his prayer wheel, andgesturing to the younger monk to use his chanting beads.

The prayer continued until the entire string of beads wasturned and the younger monk stopped at the master bead.

He waited at the master bead, his thumb and his middlefinger, grasping it, while his forefinger was kept away,in a gesture that made sure that it did not touch the

chanting beads.

Master Rinchen nodded, and told Brother Tameng, It istime, my brother, it is time for you to go. Take your

team, the animals and take this prayer wheel and mychanting beads with you. My blessings and prayers will

go with you. Every day and every moment, we will pray

for you here. Our thoughts will be with you. Do nothesitate to send messages and information back withthese boys and do not hesitate to ask us for anything that


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you would need. We may be monks and this may be amonastery and this may be the most remote place in the

world, but we can get things done. You know that. It isHis Way, and He will most definitely send His helpers

here to show us the way from time to time.

Brother Tameng looked at the team that had assembled.The two old pilgrim guides smiled at him with affection.They knew him from many years and they knew the old

man Dawa. Where the old man would go, there would beadventure and they did not want to be left out of it. The

rest of their lives were routine, and Brother Tameng hadjust now invited them to go into what was totallyuncertain and to unknown regions. This was their life.

They wanted to go with him. The three horse-boys andthe three yak-boys went out to get the animals ready.The equipment had already been packed up and was to

be tied onto the yaks.

They were to take six yaks and six horses with them.Everyone would ride up, with Brother Tameng, the

pilgrim guides and the horse boys on the six horses. Theyak boys had divided up the supplies, tents and otherequipment in such a manner that three yaks had lighter

loads and they could ride them. Brother Tameng bowed

low in front of the Amitabha Buddha, hugged the

younger monk and sought Master Rinchens blessings.The Russian pilgrims watched quietly. They came out of

the prayer hall and looked at the number of animalsloaded up and the team assembling to move out. This

would be some expedition, said one of the Russians.

Master Rinchen and Brother Tameng did not give anyhint that they had understood what he said, for they


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knew the language quite well. The team began to moveout of the Choku monastery with Brother Tameng

placing himself in the center, so that he could allow hishorse to move ahead by itself, by following the lead of

the other horses. He was beginning to get tired andexhausted now, and he did not want to take the troubleof having to stay alert, up front, on the Kailash trail. Thiswas certainly a magical land, he thought, this strangemystery that nobody could or would walk up the Kang

Renpoche and now, this turn of events. He looked at theChoku monastery, and waved to Master Rinchen and

looked at the peak of theKang Renpoche and sought itsblessing.

***

They reached Dirapuk early, with the horses and yaks

being able to walk at the same speed because of the

water streams and marsh that had begun to collectthrough the valley. The higher slopes must havecollected most of the waters of the rainstorm and the

streams had begun to flow through to the valley. It was

difficult riding the animals through the slush, rocks anddeepening streams. The sun was not to be seen from the

valley but the peaks could be seen reflecting thesunlight. The team rode to the Dirapuk monastery and

alighted at the gates.

The monks from the monastery had seen the teamapproaching and were at the gate to receive them. The


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monk from the Dirapuk monastery welcomed BrotherTameng and accompanied him to the prayer hall. The

team rode ahead to Yeshes parents eatery and made theyaks and horses comfortable in the sheds. Yeshes

parents welcomed the pilgrim guides, yak boys andhorse boys and invited them to eat and rest. Hot soupwas ready and the boys were happy, for it was gettingcolder as the evening began to fade away into the night.

Brother Tameng met the other monks within themonastery and sat with them for dinner. Yeshes parents

had sent across an enormous platter of food and this wasshared with the pilgrim groups who had taken shelter inthe monastery for the night. The pilgrims wondered

about the occasion but welcomed the food. The monkssat near the windows and discussed the situation. Themonk from the Dirapuk monastery introduced the othermonks to Brother Tameng and the group sat togetherquietly in prayer. After a while, the senior monk

gestured with his prayer wheel to permit discussionwithin the group.

This is a strange point of our lives, when we do notknow what we have set out to achieve. We know that

some mysterious events have occurred in our valley, but

we do not know what we are supposed to learn from

them, said Brother Tameng, We are here in themonasteries in the valley of the Kang Renpoche

Mountain, on the path to seek knowledge. There aresome windows that have been opened to allow us an

extremely brief view of the magic and mystery of this

valley. Should we seek this knowledge by going out insearch of it, or should we wait in our prayer halls,


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hoping that these events would come in search of us, anddrown us with knowledge?

The monks at the Dirapuk monastery smiled at this very

obvious naivet challenge by Brother Tameng to getthem excited. The senior monk laughed loudly, for hewas of a very boisterous nature, unlike the monk whohad gone out to meet Sangye and Yeshe on the earlierday. The senior monk turned his prayer wheel four

times, and bowed in the direction of theKang RenpocheMountain, and said, Brother Tameng, you are a good

man. You do not need to convince us. We are going togive you strength in your search. We have come here tothe valley of the Kang Renpoche, and we have come

here in search of the knowledge that would meet us.

The younger monk of the Dirapuk Monastery, he whohad gone to meet Sangye and Brother Tameng, said,Thank you, Master. We could have sat back in our

houses and villages, wherever we were, with ourfamilies, and without forsaking our lives, as we knew

them. We are here today. There must be a reason. Wehave to accept the events without sentiment and withoutemotion. They have happened, and they have happened

here. Brother Tameng is to be complimented in allowing

these windows, as he calls them, to open. If he had not

been curious, we would never have known about them.Now that this has occurred, we need to take this

forward.

Brother Tameng bowed, to convey his gratitude at the

affection and friendship that the monks from the Dirapukmonastery has provided, and said, Brothers, Master, Ithank you. We have resources that most pilgrims who


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visit here do not possess. These pilgrims whom you see,taking rest in our prayer halls every day, they come here

on a journey that is once in their lifetimes. We stay here,and for us this valley is not a place to be visited, to take

photographs, and to return to tell neighbours, relativesand friends about our journeys. This is our life. Oneteam has already entered the valley. The two old men,Dawa and Sangye, are the best trailsmen in this valley oftheKang Renpoche. There is none better than them. We

need to allow them to lead us inside the valley and weneed to provide them help and support and resources.

The younger monk of the Dirapuk Monastery looked atthe senior monk, bowed, and said, Brother Tameng, we

agree. We had discussed the issue within our monasteryand our Master consulted with the old records that we

possess. There is no mention of this particular valleywhere Sangye has led the team to search for the herd oflarge wild yaks. The Master also told me that he has

never heard of any story or gossip or mention about sucha herd of large wild yaks in the valley of the Kang

Renpoche. But, that was a very rapid search of the fewdocuments that were consulted by the Master within themonastery.

The senior monk placed his hand on the several ancient

volumes that had been stacked nearby, and said, Whatwe do not see in these books may not be labeled as non-

existent. It only means that these events are writtenwithin these books. While you would enter the valley

with Sangye, we will send our messages and enquiries to

the other monasteries about our search for themysteriousBeyul. We will not include mention about the


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herd of large wild yaks. We do not want more tourists toflood this sacred valley.

The younger monk nodded, and spoke to Brother

Tameng, What if the wild yaks were sacred spirits? Wedo not want them to be harassed or chased by tourists orcrazy hunters who would come down from the Hanregions. We hear stories of mountain goats being hunted,and we hear horrible stories of yak herds being chased

by hunters on powerful vehicles. This is not the Tibetthat we knew of earlier years. You spoke of the strange

behaviour of the wolves. How could that be possible ofthe wolves that we know in these regions?

We know of the closely held relationships of theancients, of the sacred spirits with the animals in theseregions. The Hindus believe that their Lord Shiva rides awhite bull, Nandi, when he leaves the sacred mountainand visits other places. The Thousand Buddhas came to

this valley with their Mastiff dogs. Are these storiestrue? Has anyone seen the white bull of Shiva? asked

the younger monk, But, as the Master says, just becausewe have not seen the white bull, and because others havenot seen the white bull, how can we say that it does not

exist?

We think that, Brother Tameng, what you were shown,of the herd of wild yaks, wolves and the mysterious

pilgrims, is to let us know that some secrets do exist andthey can be contacted. We can see them. We can search

for answers to some of the mysteries of the Kailash, of

the Sumeru, of the Kang Renpoche, and we should goout in search of them. But, the Master has soughtcaution, for the spirit of adventure is not to drown the


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cause that we are here for, that is to go out into thevalley, into the Beyul, only, only, only in search of

knowledge.

The senior monk nodded in agreement, and sat quietly inprayer, turning his prayer wheel. The other monkswaited, in respect, with Brother Tameng. There wasmuch to think about, for what they were to seek andsearch, was about a set of events that they were not

acquainted with. The younger monk waited for theMaster, and when the prayer wheel stopped, said,

Brother Tameng, it is with concern and respect that weshould enter the Beyul. The reason we emphasise thisneed for respect is because the entrance to the valley is

near the Dirapuk monastery. We support you.

Brother Tameng nodded in agreement, and replied, Ithank you, my brothers, Master, and in homage to theMost Enlightened One, for it is the search that is more

important than the result. We do not know what is tohappen, and what is it that we would discover. I saw

what I saw. I can never forget it. Old man Dawa wasmore excited about the opportunity to enter the Beyul.That is understandable. For, Dawa and Sangye are the

best in this region. This is why I want to join them. For I

want to be sure that we focus on the search for the

unknown. I do not want the two old men to convert thesearch into a hunting journey. An unexplored valley is

sure to be filled with animals that would not shy awayfrom humans.

The younger monk smiled at the reference to Sangyesenthusiasm for the hunt, since he knew him from the

past few years, and said, I agree with you, Brother


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Tameng. I will accompany you into the Beyul. We havediscussed about it in the monastery. My senior brothers

have agreed that I should join you. This could be ourBeyul. Our elders may inform us later that we were

supposed to guard the entrance. We will go together,Brother Tameng, and we will see what we will see.

***

The team started from the Dirapuk monastery in the darkof the dawn. The early rays of the sun were brilliantly

bouncing from the higher peaks of the mountains. TheKang Renpoche Mountain was in silhouette and looked

as if it was night on one side of the peak, while the other

side, the one that they could not see, was past its dawn

hours. They had planned to travel early and fast, andmeet up with Sangye and Dawa at their camping place

inside the mysterious valley. The Master of the Dirapukmonastery had felt that the Beyul team may find it

difficult to start early since they were inside a valley

surrounded by steeper and higher mountains, and dawnwould establish itself at least two hours later in there.

Yeshes parents had not slept at all through the night.

They had been busy putting together supplies, includingfood items and packing them up in waterproof bags. The

yak boys and the horse boys had moved the animalsinside the sheds and were able to get the bags all loaded

up in time. The two old pilgrim guides, Katishe andSatawa, were moving around, checking all the supplies,

animals and talking to Yeshes parents. Brother Tamengand the monk from Dirapuk monastery walked up to the


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eatery. One of the helper ladies fetched them bowls ofhot soup and noodles. The monks bowed to show

gratitude and sat near the stove and welcomed thewarmth.

It would be cold out there, thought Brother Tameng, andreally cold, much worse than the times in the Chokumonastery in winter. Would they survive and did theyhave enough supplies, he wondered. Sangye, Dawa,

Katishe and Satawa were tough trailsmen, and they werevery familiar with the planning that was required to go

into the high valleys. It would be foolish to makemistakes by trying to be heroic or adventurous. Theseexperts would know that and they would certainly not

allow anyone to lead them into an accident.

They began to walk up the slope behind the eatery. Theyaks were walking ahead with the supplies, while thehorses were coming up behind the monks. Katishe and

Satawa were walking up far ahead of the yaks to searchthe trail. There was no light to make out anything on the

path, but the old trailsmen were looking out for sign ofSangyes team and trying to understand and get a feel forthe path ahead. They began to look around at the amount

of boulders on the slope and on the streambed and were

getting worried.

Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk caught up

with the trailsmen and understood the problem. It wasquite obvious. The size of the boulders was getting

larger and the distance between the mountain slopes

towards the entrance to the valley was getting narrower.Did Sangye and his team actually get into the valleyyesterday? Was there a clear path through these boulders


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and into the valley? It did not seem likely. The earlyhours on the trail and the good spirits of the yaks and

horses allowed the team to move fast through the narrowpaths that did exist and they reached the blocked passage

within two hours.

Sangye was sitting at a shelter near the valley walls. Hewaved to them, happily, and his two mastiffs camerunning out and started barking. The dogs also seemed to

be happy at the sight of more people and animals. Itmust have been tough out here through the night,

thought Brother Tameng. Dawa walked out of the shelterand hugged the two old trailsmen. They knew oneanother from many years in the valley of the Kang

Renpoche Mountain, and were always happy to meet upin the mountains.

Yeshe and Norbu met Brother Tameng and startedtalking excitedly. They were in a hurry to explain the

predicament that had been encountered. The team couldnot enter the valley. These boulders had blocked the

entire entrance to the Beyul. How could the herd of thelarge wild yaks have come through this path? Even themastiff dogs could not enter. How could the larger yaks

have come out of the valley? Perhaps, this was the

wrong path. Perhaps, the wild yaks had not come

through this path. Perhaps, this Beyul was not to beentered? The monk from the Dirapuk monastery sat

inside the shelter and waited for the young boys to stoptalking. The three mastiff dogs came to sit near him.

They knew him from Dirapuk and were friendly with

him and the other monks from the monastery.


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It was getting colder in the valley. Katishe and Satawamoved the animals inside the shelter and deeper within

the spaces amongst the large boulders. The boys beganto cut up and collect more branches and stuff to pack the

small openings and to start small fires inside the shelters.Brother Tameng, the monk from Dirapuk monastery,Sangye, Dawa, Katishe and Satawa sat under the smallrock-cave made by two large boulders and the mountainwalls. The boys sat nearer the entrance and watched the

fog collecting outside.

Sangye asked Norbu to repeat his doubts about the wildyaks in the valley. Brother Tameng and the monk fromDirapuk heard him patiently. Dawa knew that it was not

his time to offer his advice or suggest alternatives. Theanimals sat quietly deep within, while the mastiffs satnearer a small fire and made themselves comfortable.Yeshe went about adding one yak dung-cake on to eachfire to allow for the flames to give off better warmth.

The fog outside the shelter was getting to be fiercer andit seemed like it would drizzle very soon.

The monk from Dirapuk monastery spoke to the group,My brothers, please do remember the mission that we

are on. Please remember that Brother Tameng saw what

has not been seen in this valley at any time before. We

are here at the entrance to this valley because we want toenter it. We will enter this valley and we will not stop at

any barrier. If we are not able to enter it, then it onlyproves the fact that this valley could indeed be one of the

sacred and lost Beyuls of Guru Rinpoche. Where else

could such a valley be found? Other than the closestupper valleys near the Kang Renpoche Mountain, ofcourse.


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Brother Tameng nodded in appreciation, and said, My

brother, you do say it correctly. Where else could it be?And if we are not able to enter it in the normal course, it

does prove that it could be a sacred valley that has anentrance that needs to be opened. Who are we to enter itwithout permission of Guru Rinpoche? Are we

permitted? We need to find out. We need to seek thepermission of the Most Enlightened One and we need to

seek guidance from Guru Rinpoche, for it was he whoknew the mysteries and secret pathways of knowledge,

land and its relationship with nature, and the manner ofresidence of the gods and sacred spirits of this place.

Look at the fog out there. Look at the boulders on thehill stream. Look at the manner in which these boulders

block the valley. Humans have never crossed this placein recent years. There must be a reason for it. Let us prayto seek blessings. Let us pray to seek permission. Let us

seek the grace ofGuru Rinpoche and let us seek to findthe entrance with humility, with bowed heads, and with

a very sincere attitude that lets this land know that weenter here for knowledge only.

Dawa nodded in agreement. He knew Brother Tameng

and knew that the young monk had a more wiser and

blessed spirit than those who knew these mountains forlonger. Master Rinchen had advised the old man Dawa

to allow the young monk to have his way, and preventhim from committing to any foolish adventure only if it

seemed to be dangerous. Sangye gestured for Norbu and

Yeshe to join the seniors in prayer. The boys at theentrance to the shelter pushed tarpaulin sheets across the


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opening of the shelter to keep the fog out and joined theprayer group.

The monk from Dirapuk monastery turned his prayer

wheel and sat quietly, focusing his mind on the bouldersoutside the shelter. Brother Tameng grasped his prayer

beads and pressed them against his chest and closed hiseyes to meditate. Norbu sat impatiently, watching thegroup sitting quietly, but started the prayers that he was

familiar with. He knew it would not be in goodbehaviour to avoid prayers when two monks were sitting

within the group and were in sincere prayer. He may endup attracting any evil spirits wandering around, hethought.

Brother Tameng sprinkled some sacred powder up in theair above the fire and returned to his meditation. He keptmoving the images of the boulders and the valley and thehigh mountain walls, the fog, the drizzle and the high

peaks within his mind. There had to be a way. He pulledat the image of theKang Renpoche Mountain, the image

of Guru Rinpoche, the images of the Buddhas, theAmitabha Buddha, the Sakyamuni himself,Avalokiteswara, and moved these images with the

images of the boulders and the blocked up valley. There

had to be a blessing from Guru Rinpoche, and he

requested him to permit the group to enter themysterious Beyul.

***


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The prayers continued. Brother Tameng and the monkfrom Dirapuk were concentrating all their efforts to

search for answers deep within their mind. Sangye,Dawa, Katishe and Satawa completed the inner circle

with the two monks around the prayer books that hadbeen assembled near the fire. Norbu and Yeshe satoutside the circle, while the yak boys and the horse boyssat at a distance. Suddenly, Sangye started rocking toand fro, and started humming loudly, and sat up straight

on his knees. He brought his hands to his ears and beganto humm in two syllables, repeating the words that

sounded like ki and cha, again and again and again.

Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk looked up

startled. It seemed as if the spirits of the valley hadentered the old man Sangye, and it seemed as if someoneelse was reciting the humming. Someone, who did notsound like Sangye at all, but sounded more like it was awoman. The drizzle of rain outside the shelter had

stopped, and the fog had lifted, as if magically, like ithad just been wiped out from a painting where it had

existed for thousands of years. The old man Sangyestood up and walked out of the shelter, with the othersfollowing him quietly.

For Dawa, Katishe and Satawa, it looked like nothing

was wrong or out of the normal. They were used to suchdivinations of the spirits of the mountains speaking

through one of their own. The monks had heard aboutsuch events, but had never seen one directly. They did

not seem too surprised, but were looking on respectfully,

worried, since they did not know how were they to react.They remembered the advice given to them by theirMasters, that they should accept whatever that would


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happen out here, and were not to question anydevelopment.

The rocks seemed to be resonating from the sound of the

drizzle of rain that had just gone by, and it sounded as ifthe large boulders were trembling. The sky above wasclear, totally without any clouds. The old man Sangyecame to stand in front of a huge mass of extremely large

boulders and seemed to be crying out his humming

sounds and was quivering in a gentle shake of his body.Yeshe looked on at his grandfather, in what was totally

unknown to him before, and wondered if he was toworry about him or to stay courageous in his belief thatthe old man could do no wrong.

Sangye began to humm out the word ki loudly, andstopped reciting the word cha. The sound of hishumming began to echo out through the boulders, andthe word began to be proclaimed thousands of times,

again and again, causing the aspect that the boulderswere trembling with extremely clear sound of the word

ki. The skies above were suddenly filled with whiteclouds and surprisingly, from within these clouds, onedark gale-clad cloud dropped lower into the valley. It

started raining heavily through the boulder area, and the

place became dark and seemed like night had taken over

the day by force.

The group could see the other white clouds above thegale-cloud. A flash of lightning seemed to come out of

the dark cloud, but did not strike down, and rather, it

hissed out as a straight beam of light, with extremelyloud and clear thunder, going away into the valleyinside. Brother Tameng and Dawa, standing next to each


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other, trembled at the sight of the lightning, racing deepinside the valley. The thunder started resonating through

the boulders in waves that multiplied upon themselves,thousands of times. All this time, old man Sangye stood

near the large boulders, quivering, and humming.

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. Thinwhite clouds began to descend down the valley and avery gentle breeze began to come through the boulders.

The valley continued to be in darkness, and yet, as if bymagic, light came out through two boulders, curving out

like a crown of diamonds on black stone that wouldnever have reflected any form of light. These rays oflight were coming through the valley and were being

reflected off some strange form of mineral that seemedto cover the inner sides of the boulders. Sangye stoppedhumming, and pointed, and said in Tibetan, in a dialectthat was very ancient, There, you see what did not exist

before. It exists now. There, you see what we saw, and

yet we did not see. The very best of warriors of verynature created by the sacred spirits of this valley, the

most peaceful warrior of all, peaceful white light. Thesacred spirits show us the entrance, the manner in whichthe light is shown, we will enter.

The old man Sangye crouched low, and stretched his

arms, in the manner of a vulture, and said, It is here,that we see what we could not see from the ground. It is

in the manner of the grey vulture, that we should seefrom a distance. There is a trail here, and it curves inside

these boulders, back and forth, like the lotus would have

its petals, we would need to enter from here, and walkthrough the maze. See the light that shines upon theseancient minerals on the rocks. These are from the sea


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that covered this ancient land much before theDharmakaya Amitabha Buddha. It is so said to me in my

mind, and I do not know how. Let us make haste.

The monk from the Dirapuk monastery took control andsaid, I will stay here, at the shelter, and will keep Norbuand two boys and their animals with me. One of the boyswill go with you for some distance, but send him backwith something to mark the way back. We will get more

help here, and my brothers will come here, and we willpray here. This is indeed a sacred place, for the manner

in which we are permitted to enter, through the verysigns of the sacred spirits, it is clear. We need to berespectful in what we do.

Old man Dawa nodded in agreement and gestured for theteam to get ready and start to move through the entrance.Sangye, Katishe and Brother Tameng had startedwalking inside the space of the trail between the

boulders. It seemed to be quite comfortably wide, and itwas well used, judging by the smooth passage that it

provided. They had not been able to discover ityesterday, when they had arrived in good daylight. Itwas the lightning and the contrast of the rainstorm with

the clear clouds elsewhere, that showed up the entrance.

Brother Tameng realized that the light had hit the

fossilized layers on the inner side of the boulders, fossilsthat looked like they were seashells. The light had been

reflected from the fossils as if it had hit against a small-enclosed room with a million mirrors.

Yeshe and Satawa rushed around inside the sheltergetting the animals loaded up and entered the space

between the boulders. It was miraculously comfortable


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entering the space and it seemed quite silly now that theyhad not spotted such an opening on the day before. They

should have seen it. They had been misled by the play ofshadows and dark corners between the boulders and had

not been able to realize that there would be adequatespace for them to pass through with the heavily ladenanimals. It was a very comfortable path, as they couldsee, and they made good progress and met Katishe whogestured for them to stop.

Brother Tameng and Sangye were standing in front of a

ledge within one of the boulders, and they seemed to bepraying. There was a painting, about ten inches by teninches, inside the ledge, and it showed an image of that

of a very ancient god-like person. He seemed to havebeen a warrior, judging by the dress that he had worn,and his kingly moustache. He was smiling and his facewas radiant. He was a very strong and tall person,Brother Tameng thought. The person was shown sitting

on a mountain summit, crouched, as if he would launchhimself into the valley and would comfortably fly over

it. The person seemed to have been blue in colour.Behind him, there was a cloth banner in white and the

painting at this spot was quite damaged.

He must have been the guardian spirit of the Beyul. I

have never seen such an image. There is none like him inall the stories that I have heard of the Amitabha Buddha,

or the Sakyamuni or the stories that have been told ofGuru Rinpoche. There is great karma here, great siddhi

here, and great blessings abound, for the emanations that

arise here, from this image, are still in existence. Look atthe aspect of the painting. It is out here in the open,within these boulders, and has never been damaged by


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the rains or the climate of this valley, said BrotherTameng to Sangye, He is a divine spirit, no doubt, but he

is blue in colour. That is strange. But, who are we toquestion anything that we discover in this valley?

The team started walking forward. The path kept curvingthrough the boulders but did not seem to open up above.There were boulders above the path, and it was obviousthat daylight never entered the space here. Sangye lit a

torch, made of branches and twigs, and kept swinging itback and forth in a curious manner. Each time he swung

it in front of him, it would flare up, and each time hetook it behind him, it would die down. There was adefinite current of air up ahead.

VII

Hariram Maharaj looked at the two pilgrims withwonder and amazement. The Jain monk nodded his head

in awe. Strange are the ways of the Gods, he thought tohimself. These two pilgrims spoke in a language thatseemed like very ancient Pharsi, the singsong manner in

which the priests at the temple at Navsari would speak.He did not understand anything but he was familiar with

the sounds and the words. He spoke in Hindi to Maharaj,and said, Praise be to all those who seek the best of

their lives here at theAshtapada. Peace be with all thosewho seek to come here and meet others from so manyother religions.


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Luo Tsering understood the intention behind the wordsof the Jain monk though he did not understood any

Hindi. He asked Maharaj, Do ask these two pilgrims ifthey would stay and wait for their colleagues or would

they go ahead or return to the Kang Renpoche? Theelder pilgrim seemed to have understood the question,for it was he who replied, I thank you for yourhospitality, my brother, for it was indeed a terrible nightthat we survived together. It was because of your good,

tented eatery here, and the food that we received, as didall the other pilgrims, that we are safe today. It could

have easily been a disaster.

The words of gratitude were welcome to Luo Tsering,

for it was rare that he was told that he had done asplendid job. He replied, Where do you come from, ifyou are to the west of Ngari? And, you say that you arealso west of Tibet? These pilgrims here are from Indiaand they do not know our land the manner in which we

do. I am myself not from Shiquanhe. But, this is a goodland and we are blessed that these pilgrims come here,

each year and we benefit from the trade? Are you alsotraders in your land? Is there good business in your

place?

The other pilgrims had drifted away, eager to get out of

the eatery, and soak up some of the bright sun that wasshining down. The Jain monk stayed back near the stove,

sitting alongside Hariram Maharaj. The younger monkhad not spoken and had kept his silence, but looked

extremely at peace, and did not seem to be disturbed by

the discussion. The elder pilgrim looked around at hisaudience, and bowed to show his gratitude and to signal


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the fact that he did not resent the question about hisidentity and his nativity.

We come from a similar place to the Kang Renpoche,

and we come to this region in pilgrimage. Our place isnear the great lake that you and the Indians know as theGreat Karakul. This lake is also like the lakes near the

Kang Renpoche, and yet, is similar in not allowing usand the other locals to benefit through any agriculture,

said the elder pilgrim, Our Lake is below the greatmountain ranges, that the Han Chinese and others in the

world know as the Pamirs. We live below the shadow ofthe great Kongur Mountain.

The pilgrims from India did not respond, and Maharajcontinued to wait to hear the rest of the story. They didnot know the Karakul Lake and they had not heard of theKongur Mountain. The Jain monk understood that thestory was over, and he replied, We do not know of

these places. But, I do understand that your place istowards Iran from Tibet. And therefore, the use of the

strange language and dialect is understandable. Howcome that you say that your gods are different? TheParsis from Iran in India did not seem to have many

gods deep inside mountains.

Maharaj said, Yes. The Parsis in India do not have godsthat they visit inside or on top of mountains. So how did

you say that your religion and way of life is linked to themountains that are the homes of your gods that you

come to visit in theKang Renpoche? I have never heard

of Parsis coming to the Mount Kailash to offerpilgrimage or to pray to Shiva or Buddha. Is it in your


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religion that you would come to pray to Shiva orBuddha? Or, to Guru Rinpoche?

We do not speak the Parsi language and we do not have

any ancient Parsi language, replied the elder pilgrim,What you heard are words that sound similar to theParsi or ancient Parsi language that you think that youare familiar with. The Parsis in your land would notunderstand our language. And, we would not understand

their language. It is only that some words and themanner of our speech are similar. Thats all. Nothing

else.

We did come from Iran and the areas around

Afghanistan and the other nations that are in the regionto our West. But, we come from a nation that existedmuch much earlier, and there is no such nation in thesetimes in those regions now, the elder pilgrim said, Welive in poverty. We are not rich. We live in mud and

stone houses. We live in a mixed community withKirghiz nomads, who live in yurts, and our village

exists, in peace, though we do not have money.

The younger pilgrim stood up and came near the stove,

extending his empty soup bowl. Maharaj refilled it

quietly, in the manner of a householder feeding guests at

his house, rather than in the manner of an eatery. He hadquietly included the spicy condiments of an Indian soup

and this had made it tastier to the bland soup that theTibetans were familiar with. The younger pilgrim picked

up some fried eatables and went back to sitting alongside

his colleague.


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The Jain monk spoke, My brother, what you say isquite fascinating. You seem to be from Iran, and you

seem to speak Parsi, and yet you are neither. The travelsof your people must have been accomplished hundreds

or thousands of years ago. I must speak of this to myfriends from the Parsi temples at Navsari. There aremany experts in the city and they keep studying thehistory of their people. They may know something that Ido not know.

But, I am still curious about why you would leave your

other companions on the kora and return? We would nothave done so, since we are from India, and our travel

permit requires us to travel together and return together.

The local police and the customs office at Nyalam wouldnot permit us to travel to other regions, said the Jainmonk, But I guess, it must be since you are from thisland. And, you are in Tibet, since you do not seem to befrom within China. Are you from China, or are you from

Tibet? And why did you leave your companions behindat the kora?

The elder pilgrim nodded in agreement, and replied,Yes, my brother, you who seem to be a holy man, we

do not need travel papers or permits for travel in our

land. We are so ancient, and have ancient traditions and

our way of life is the manner of this land, that we do notknow the nature of the nations of today. Tibet and China

exist today, and in the manner of your nations, India,Nepal and Pakistan, we do not belong to any nation. We

are here, because we live here. We do not participate in

any political or social activity here. We are neither fromChina and nor from Tibet.


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You are all curious about the pilgrims who stayedbehind at the kora. It is very simple. They wanted to stay

behind. You come from distant lands, and it is in yourtradition and in the manner of nations that you are from,

and in the manner in which the nation of China exists,that you are allowed to only do the kora around thesacred mountain, the elder pilgrim continued, And,therefore, you come all this distance, do the kora, andyou leave. But, you never come here, to be a part of this

land. You do not come here to stay here, and to live withthe sacred mountain. This is what we do. This is our

land. This is our mountain. We come here, to live withthe mountain.

We go back to our villages, and we return. Some of usstay back, and some return. We pray, we do our sacredrituals, and we stay here. Our group will return later,the elder pilgrim said, Some of us do the kora, as I andmy brother did it this time. I have done it twice earlier.

We will return to the great Karakul Lake. As I saidearlier, for us, the Kang Renpoche Mountain is more

sacred than to any of you. My holy brother from India, Iknow, you had said that the legend of the AshtapadaMountain would be the earliest, and we bow to you and

to the legend.

Maharaj was absolutely fascinated. His goal ofcompleting 108 koras was nothing compared to what the

elder pilgrim was telling him. He had been livingillegally in Shiquanhe, and forever, he seemed to fear

that he would be caught and sent back. He made up his

mind now, at the words of the elder pilgrim, and said,Brother, I am very happy to hear what you say. I wouldalso like to stay on the sacred mountain, and keep on


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doing the kora. I fear the cold for I am from the plains ofIndia. Please tell your people that you can come here, to

this eatery of Luo Tsering, and you can always stay here,in your travel to the sacred mountain. I shall do the kora

with you the next year, if you would return, and I willwait for you. Truly, this place is tremendous in itsmagic.

***

Where had the young boy gone? He had been sittingnear the Lake, and Vijay Kulkarni was absolutely sure

that he had indeed seen him very clearly. The surrealaspect of the young boy seated on what must have beenextremely cold marshy areas, and then, to havedisappeared, seemed extremely typical of what he shouldhave expected here at the Manasarovar Lake, he thought.

So early in the morning, and especially after therainstorm and the visions he had of something happening

on Mount Kailash, it was typical that he saw stuffhappening by themselves at the Lake also.

Himanshu and Paramita were almost near the Serka

Khim area, and were pretending to take photographs of

the area and the Chiu Gompa. The other pilgrims hadbegun to climb up to the monastery. Vijay walked

speedily, without running, to the spot where had hadseen the young boy. He did not look back at the vehicles

or at the group of pilgrims. He knew that Himanshu

knew his job and Paramita was very good at identifyingthe rock types. He did not have to push them or ask themto be diligent. They were better at their work than him.


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The small grassy mound was empty. The boy was not to

be seen. Vijay walked around the mound. It was barelytwo feet above the marshy slush and the smooth stones

on the bare fallow land. Himanshu called out, Vijay, becautious. A monk seems to be walking towards you fromthe Chiu Gompa. He seems to be quite a senior one, bythe colour of his robes. Vijay kept walking around themound and turned towards the monastery hill and could

make out the monk walking down the slope towards theSerka Khim area. He may have some other work, and

may not be related to the sighting of the young boy,thought Vijay.

Where had the young boy disappeared? There was nopathway around these mounds, and there did not seem tobe any well or hole in the ground for him to slip into.Could one hide below these mounds? Not possible,thought Vijay. He climbed up on the grass mound that

he had seen the young boy seated upon, and walkedaround. It was a largish mound, and had not seemed to

be of such a size, when he had seen it from a distance.The grass was wet with the morning dew and there were

puddles of water seeping in, from the leftover since the

rainstorm.

Vijay walked about on the grass mound. At places it wasvery soft and slushy and mostly covered by the grass

made heavy by water and dew. There seemed to be anopen fallow patch towards the Lake edge, and it was

obviously looking very different. He went to the open

patch, and stood staring at what he could see. Himanshuand Paramita had been keeping a watch out for thesenior-looking monk who had been walking down from


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the Chiu Gompa, and decided to join Vijay. It wasapparent that he seemed to be excited about something,

and there was this monk who was walking towards him.

The sight was amazing. There were some drawings onthe fallow land, drawn by a wet stick that was lyingnearby. It seemed like the young boy had sketched fourcircles, with lines inside each one, more in the form ofspokes of a bikes wheel. The four circles were drawn in

a line, next to each other. What had the young boy done?Why did he draw these four circles? Suddenly, Vijay

realized that the monk from the Chiu Gompa waswalking straight towards the grass mound, and he waswalking quite rapidly, despite his age. He was a senior

monk, and it would not do to avoid talking to him. Vijaylifted his hand and waved in a friendly manner at themonk, and hoped that it would suffice to establish hisgood intentions.

The Sherpa boy had begun to walk towards Himanshuand Paramita, having noticed the monk who had been

walking away from the monastery. Was it perhaps soobvious that the three of them were doing somethingdifferent? Vijay kept looking at the sketch and tried to

remember all the drawings and the imagery of the

thangkas that he had seen and studied before he had

come on this trip. He had never seen any such design orsketch in any of the Buddhist imagery, paintings or

illustrations in the books that he had studied, or themonasteries that he had visited in India, in Himachal, at

Dharamsala and at Nalanda. The thangkas that he had

seen at the monasteries in Ladakh did not have any suchsketch.


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Where had the young boy gone? How had he managedto disappear? Why did he not have any clothes on him?

How did he survive without clothes in this extreme andbitter cold climate? Vijay kept looking around the grass

mound and at the fallow open land where the sketch hadbeen made. It had been made deliberately, and had beendone so in the morning. The stick had been used tosketch the four wheels or circles. They seemed to bewheels, he thought, because of the lines that had been

sketched in the manner of spokes radiating out from thecenter.

The senior monk came up on the grassy mound andgreeted Vijay in perfect Hindi, and said, Brother,

welcome to the Chiu Gompa. I notice that you did notbother to climb up into the Gompa but you prefer towander about in the marshy lands. I come to warn you to

be careful of the bitter cold. It was a very bad rainstormyesterday night, and today could be dangerous to those

who do not know these mountains. Come with me, andlet us return to the monastery.

Vijay thought, what the heck, perhaps the senior monkcould help figure out the sketch of the four wheels. He

pointed out to the location, and to the sketch on the

ground, and said, Sirji, you speak very good Hindi. It

sounds like music to us, for we find it is very difficult tounderstand the local language. I came to this grassy

mound because I saw something very strange. Look atthat sketch on the ground. It seems to be a sketch of four

wheels, side by side. I am also disturbed that I had a

sudden vision of a young boy who was sitting at thisplace, without any clothes.


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Himanshu and Paramita had been listening quietly, andlooked startled at the statement by Vijay that he had seen

a young boy out of nowhere. They kept their silence, andwalked up with the senior monk to the spot where the

sketch had been made. The senior monk introducedhimself, My Hindi is from the years that I was at thevarious monasteries in India, and visiting various places.I also get to meet and talk to the several pilgrim groupsfrom India, and I am always happy to allow them to stay

overnight with us. I saw you wandering around, and Irushed here. Last week, we had two pilgrims who died

due to altitude sickness, while wanting to take bath inthe Lake. Not everyone can do so, for their health andage may not permit them.

Vijay smiled, and replied, Thank you, Sirji. Iunderstand your concern. I am very familiar with similaraltitudes and we are good at being sensible in thesemountains. You are correct. A small mistake could have

dangerous consequences. Please take a look at the sketchof the four circles here. The young boy, who I had seen,

must have been sitting here. The sketch here proves thatI had not imagined it, and that I am telling the truth. Thestrange part of what I saw was that the young boy

seemed to have some sort of metal shirt on his chest and

back. He did not have any clothes on himself. He was

also wearing a helmet of some sort.

But, please take a look at the sketch. I have not seenanything of this sort in any Buddhist monastery or any

book, Vijay said. The senior monk looked at the sketch

and walked about and was looking around. He seemed tocome to some sort of conclusion within himself, andreplied, Brother, you are different. You are able to


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understand this land. Therefore, these mountains haveadopted you, and you are able to see what is here to see.

Such visions are not strange to us, except that I have notseen any vision during the entire period of many years

that I have been in Tibet. But, people do see differentvisions, and that is part of our daily life here, in thisremote high mountains of the world.

What you see is definitely not Buddhist, he continued,

pointing at the sketch, This is not Hindu or Jain. This isBon. This is an extremely unique sketch, and is known

to us as the The Setting Side by Side of the FourWheels. This comes from the teachings of GreatPerfection. Each circle is a Khor-lo, or, a Wheel of

Teaching. This is not like Hindu Tantra or Chakra orwhatever. This is very different and is a sketch of a veryancient teaching. It is rare to see anyone sketch it soeasily on such barren land, and yet be able to convey itsteaching. The four wheels depict the wheels of a vehicle.

They convey the need to understand these four schoolsof thought, for it is through the motion of all four aspects

of Teaching that the vehicle can move forward. Did yousee the boy go somewhere? I did not see any boywalking around in this marshy land. We are very

attentive.

***

A Sherpa guide from the tourist group had been given

the duty by the tour-leader to stay behind at Darchen andtake care of the pilgrims who stayed behind, for

problems of altitude sickness, breathlessness and fear of


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walking at these heights. Such problems came in manyforms. Some got breathless, while some got

claustrophobic in their tents at night. Some pilgrimswere known to have got claustrophobic inside their

sleeping bags, because of the heavy sweaters andwoolens and blankets and other stuff covering them to

protect them from the cold. The tour-guides knew aboutthese problems and the Sherpa guides were trained to be

protective of the pilgrims and take care of them in an

affectionate manner. Some did, actually most guidestook care of the pilgrims in their groups. Some did not,

and these were rare.

The monk from Nalanda discussed the visit to Gyengtak

Gompa with the Sherpa guide and informed him that thepoliceman would also accompany them. Shenshe wavedto the Sherpa and called out and said, Go and get threehorses, horse-boys and one yak with one yak-boy. Youwill also come with us and bring your other Sherpa boy

also. We will go to Gyangdrak and we will stay theretonight. I want to see the mountain call this sikh pilgrim.

He says that the mountain talks to him. They think Ihave no other work here at Darchen. It is okay. We willall go together and stay at Gyangdrak tonight instead of

Darchen.

The Sherpa guide had been seeing all the arguments anddiscussion since the night before and he had been sitting

quietly at one corner of the tented eatery through therainstorm. His brother was with him, and they had been

with this tour group for more than five years. The tour-

leader was a very good man, from their remote village inNepal. He had gone to Mumbai and established a goodtour agency that brought pilgrims to the Mount Kailash


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from all over India. Some pilgrims came from othercountries and they had begun to trust this tour group.

The Sherpa guide knew better than to argue with apoliceman, even if in Nepal. And this was not Nepal,

and this policeman was not a Tibeti, but a ChiniPolice. He went about organizing the animals and boys.

Sardar Amarpal Singh had completed his prayers and satquietly inside the tented eatery, contemplating his prayer

beads and his stainless steel bangle. He wore a singlebangle, very thick, and he considered it to be more

precious than the prayer beads. He took out a cottonscarf, orangish-saffron in colour, and began to polish the

bangle. As he polished it, his mind went back to his

house, and to Amritsar in India, and to the AmritSarovar, the sacred tank around the Harmandir SahibTemple. He had been sitting at the steps and had beendeeply immersed in feeling a happy glow at seeing thetemple in the evening. At that moment, a tall, well-built,

Sikh Sevaadar (= volunteer), had come up to him andmysteriously produced the prayer beads, the steel bangle

and the cotton scarf and gave it to him and walked away.

Amarpal felt that it was most definitely a miracle. It was

a sign from the sacred book, and from the Sikh gurus, to

go closer to the temple, to learn more about the word of

Guru Nanak, and to do something significant in his life.Since that day, more than fifteen years ago, Amarpal had

left his family, property and partnerships with hisbrothers and uncles, and had gone into the service of the

temple. The priests at the temple had been reluctant to

allow him initially, for he had come from a large jointfamily, and they wondered if he had left his family afterfights and problems. Amarpal returned to his family and


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brought back men and women from his house to meetthe seniormostgranthi (= priest) at the Harmandir Sahib

temple. They had jointly vouched for Amarpals seriousintent and his total devotion to the word of Guru Nanak.

He had not gone about trying to become a granthi, or asevaadaaror a kar sevak(= voluntary worker or helper)at the Golden Temple premises, and the various otherestablishments in the complex. He immersed himself in

the library in the temple and at the Akal Takht (= thehighest body of the Sikh religion). He kept walking

around in the museum premises at the temple and visitedall libraries and museums in Amritsar. He had wanted tounderstand the world of his first teacher, Guru Nanak,

and he had wanted to understand why the great man haddone what he had done. Thereafter, Amarpal haddecided to focus and limit himself to the Udaasi (=travelogues and pilgrimages) of Guru Nanak, andespecially his third Udaasi that had brought him to

Sumeru.

Shenshe and the monk from Nalanda checked out thehorses and the yak and the boys. Luggage and sleeping

bags and food packages were loaded on to the yak. The

team moved out of Darchen, with Amarpal, Shenshe and

the monk from Nalanda riding the horses. The boys kept

a tight grip on the bridles and walked at a rapid pacetowards Gyangdrak. The Nandi Hill and the Mount

Kailash peak could be seen glistening under brightsunlight. A small rivulet coming down from the Nandi

Hill towards Darchen had frozen up. Some of the

topmost ice sheets were beginning to melt down and thismade the slope towards Gyangdrak to become slippery.


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The boys knew what to do. They controlled the horsesand kept them walking towards the monastery. Sardar

Amarpal Singh had ridden horses earlier in his nativevillage, but this journey was quite different. He had also

become older, heavier and had not ridden horses onsteep slopes. The boy kept asking him to lean forward tohelp the horse climb the slope faster. The monk from

Nalanda found it difficult to breathe if he would leanforward. He had to sit straight up and gasp for air, and

this made it more difficult. He ended up being almostbreathless. Shenshe had traveled this route, but had

always done it on foot. He did not have any problemwith his breathing and enjoyed riding the horse.

The Gyangdrak Gompa, or Gyengtak, as it was usuallycalled, sat on a hillock that looked like an island byitself, in this harsh topography around the MountKailash. One could see the Ashtapada slope from behindthe Gyangdrak Gompa. Today, it was resplendant. The

monastery seemed to have been constructed across threeor four levels. The bottom two levels were in white

colour, while the top two levels were in stark contrast, inbrown shades. The bottom level also served as thecompound around the monastery, and must have helped

establish the plinth for its construction at this remote

location.

The uppermost level of the monastery was quite majestic

in its appearance. It emerged from within the whitecompound and the ground structures, and rose high

above the hillock. It seemed quite juxtaposed with the

dark and shining white clouds that were floating aroundit. One side of this uppermost level did not have anywindows. There were four large windows on the each of


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the other two sides. The side opposite the one withoutwindows had two small windows alongside a broad wide

window in the centre. The level below the uppermosthad two large windows established in alternate central

positions below the four large windows. A faint footpathcould be seen after the rainstorm of the previous night,going to the monastery. The prayer flags were intact anddid not seem to have been blown away during the storm.

They entered the Gyangdrak Gompa compound andalighted from the horses. The boys and the Sherpas took

the animals and went around to spots that they werefamiliar with. They knew the locations to camp down forthe evening and night at the Gompa. Shenshe, Amarpal

and the monk from Nalanda walked through thecompound. Large prayer wheels were rotating slowly inthe noon breeze in the entrance to the compound. Threelarge prayer wheels were affixed within one woodenframe, and there were twelve such frames in a row. The

thirty-six prayer wheels were golden in colour, and thebright-red frames gave it a beautiful contrast.

They could see various camping sites at a distance.Darchen seemed to be just a patch of huts and tents at a

distance. The Manasarovar lake was shimmering as a

faint patch of sky that had come to rest on the ground. A

caravan of tour groups was moving around in thedistance, approaching Darchen. Four land rovers

followed by two trucks, followed by another group of sixland rovers with two trucks. The rainstorm must have

lifted in the region, thought Shenshe, and very soon,

other pilgrim groups would begin to come together atDarchen.


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The entrance to the gompa was similar to thoseelsewhere, with the two deer seated facing the wheel of

dharma, in the center. Towards the hill-slopes, theycould see two retreat cabins set up into the cliff. One of

the monks was watching them from a lower window andcame out to greet and welcome Shenshe, for he hadrecognised him as the local policeman. Shenshewondered with amusement, if the monk could figure outthe nature of the strange group that he must be seeing, a

Han Chinese policeman, a buddhist monk from India,and a sikh pilgrim.

***

The monk bowed to Shenshe, and said, Welcome, mybrothers, I am Shedrub Repa, and I welcome you all tothe Gyangdrak monastery. This is the Gyangdrak

Gompa. He pronounced the words, Gyangdrak Gompa,in a very thick Tibetan accent, as rGyang-grags and,

dgon-pa. Shenshe did not even bother to bow inreturn. Who was he to welcome him here and there, inhis own territory? He had more than enough right to

enter any premises around theKang Renpoche mountain,

sacred or not, he thought.

The monk from Nalanda glanced at Amarpal Singh, who

nodded his approval. He walked up to Shedrub, themonk from Gyangdrak, and bowed low, to show more

than adequate respect, and said, My brother, I am also

from Tibe, and my fathers before me, and mygrandfather, have visited the Gyangdrak Gompa. Myname is Sonam Sangye. I am extremely proud that I am


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able to visit this sacred place today and be able to meetyou. I am thoroughly blessed today.

Shenshe realized that this was the first time that he heard

the monk from Nalanda refer to himself by his name.This must indeed be a special occasion for him, perhapsmore important than what the Sikh pilgrim wished toachieve. Sonam continued, Let me introduce my dear

brother from India, from Punjab. He is a holy man from

the Sikh religion, and has come to trace the footsteps ofhis first Master, who visited the sacred mountain and

traveled in this sacred land of ours. That was severalhundreds of years ago.

His name is Sardar Amarpal Singh. We were atDarchen yesterday, and during the rainstorm of the night

before. This kind policeman at Darchen, has become likea good friend and brother to the both of us. He is a niceman, Brother Shenshe, said Sonam, the monk from

Nalanda, But, we are here for a very strange reason, andI beg you, my brother, Shedrub, to indulge us our

strange request. My Sikh brother, he who himself is aholy man in Amritsar, and very well respected, hewalked about in the rainstorm in the middle of the night,

and he says, that he saw the sacred mountain, peaceful,

with no rain falling on it, and he feels, he says, that he

saw something happening on it. Some movement. Hesays that he thinks that the sacred mountain is calling.

The monk from Gyangdrak, Shedrub, smiled, and bowed

in respect towards Sardar Amarpal Singh. Shenshe was

surprised. What was happening? This monk was noteven surprised that a strange pilgrim, a Sikh pilgrim, hadcome to the monastery for the first time perhaps in its


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history, and he tells him this weird story that he sawsome movement on the sacred mountain during a

rainstorm, and this monk believes him? What was wrongwith this people? He could have been so much happier if

he could have been posted at Shanghai or Beijing. Even,Kashgar would have been better. And the police

bureaucracy had to post him at this totally forsakenplace, at Darchen, and he had to listen to stories like this.

As if in answer to his unasked question, Shedrub replied,Our Sikh brother is indeed blessed to have been able to

see the magic of the sacred mountain. I am not surprisedat all. Anything can happen here, in this valley of theKang Renpoche Mountain. But, come inside the Gompa,

and take rest. Brother Shenshe, please inform our Sikhbrother that he is not alone in thinking that there wassomething happening on the sacred mountain during therainstorm. He is not crazy. There was something indeeddifferent on the sacred mountain during the night.

Shenshe could not believe what he was hearing. The

monk was actually saying that there was someone elsewho would have seen movement on the sacred mountainduring the middle of the rainstorm. How could that be

possible? He would have to investigate this situation.

What would happen if this would become known all

over the world? The government would kill him, for hewas the only policeman in this region now, today, and he

was here, on the spot, and he would have to admit thathe did not know anything about any suspicious activity

on the mountain.

Shedrub, the monk from Gyangdrak, continued, Themonks from the Choku Gompa are here, having come an


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hour ago. They speak of strange happenings on thesacred mountain. They also feel there was some

movement during the night. Come, enter our gompa.Rest for some time.

Shedrub led them inside the main prayer hall. Therewere several tour groups and pilgrims seated around.There had been pilgrims sitting around with their tentsand equipment in the compound outside the gompa. It

was cooler inside the prayer hall, and much morecomfortable than looking continuously at the snow clad

peaks. The light often reflected painfully off the peaksand the snowy landscape. The low-lit candles inside the

prayer hall provided the comfort that one needed.

In one sunlit corner, the monks from Choku Gompa andGyangdrak Gompa were seated together and were indiscussion. They looked up at Shedrub and the strangegroup of visitors, a Han Chinese policeman, a Buddhist

monk from India and a Sikh holy man. The senior monkfrom Gyangdrak Gompa could guess that Brother

Shedrub would have more than adequate reason to bringthis group to the discussion with brother monks from theChoku Gompa. He stood up and welcomed them to be

seated. Brother Shedrub went ahead to organize some

refreshments and hot soup for the visitors.

The senior monk greeted the three visitors, Welcome to

Gyangdrak, for this is the sacred house of the MostEnlightened One in many ways than what is known to

us. I am blessed to be here to serve you, having come all

the way from my native home in the valley of Mustangin Nepal. I am Nam Ang Tsering, and the seniormostmonk at Gyangdrak. I welcome you here. There are our


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brother monks from Choku, and they come here todiscuss with us. Come, join us.

The monk from Nalanda acknowledged the welcome,

and replied, Greetings, senior brother, and guardian ofthis sacred place, I am Sonam Sangye, I am from thissacred land, but my parents had gone to India and I studyat Nalanda. I bring with me, Sardar Amarpal Singh, aholy man from Amritsar in India, and brother Shenshe,

the policeman who has been very helpful and kind to us,from Darchen. I am sure that you would have met him

before and you know him. We do not wish to disturbyou, but we come here, because my brother, Amarpal,thought he saw something strange happen in the night on

the sacred mountain, during the rainstorm, and he saysthat he is being called by the sacred mountain to comecloser to the slopes and the peak.

The senior monk of Gyangdrak, Ang Tsering, nodded in

appreciation at the judgement shown by his brother,Shedrub, and said, Welcome, one and all, this is the

meeting place of all religions. God is here, and makeshis presence known by the different messages he sendsto one and all. We are all humans, and it is this particular

detail that is dear to him, and nothing else. Our brothers

from Choku are also here to discuss the same strange

happening that took place at night. They also feel thatsomething or somebody or some strange thing was

happening in the middle of the night, during therainstorm, on the slopes of the sacred mountain. We are

discussing it.

Sardar Amarpal Singh, at the invitation of Master AngTsering, explained what had happened with him during


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the night at Darchen. Brother Shedrub, the monks fromGyangdrak and the visiting monks from Choku listened

in silence to the strange looking Sikh pilgrim. They hadseen Sikhs earlier in Tibet and in Nepal, but they had

never spoken to any Sikh or discussed religion withthem. To hear Sardar Amarpal Singh, speak with such

passion, devotion, reverence and knowledge about thegreatness of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, the monkscould only marvel silently at the amazing diversity of

attachment that brought pilgrims to the region.

The two monks from Choku explained to the seatedgroup about what had happened at the Choku andDirapuk areas during the rainstorm. They explained the

visions of Brother Tameng and old man Dawa, and thehappenings at the valley behin

the mystery of the kailash trail - book two

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