Climbing Chamundi Hill (9 page)

“Chance for what?”

“Chance to wake up to what is real. To see through
maya
—the cosmic illusion. It's like that pain in your feet. They have been burning for a while, but you have felt nothing. Your mind was elsewhere. Suddenly you woke up to what was there all along. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are we missing all the time that is constantly here? What kind of voice does it take to wake us up from the dream of our life? A good guru can teach us these things, but who can find one? And besides,” he added as he turned and poked his finger lightly at my chest, “who wants to wake up from this dream?”

We continued the climb. I resolved to keep my shoes off for a while longer, but only out of pride and stubbornness. “It seems hopeless then,” I said. “You miss your one chance, which is too easy to do. I mean, how do you tell a true voice from a false one anyway? And then you're stuck until you die, or forever maybe.” I was now moving gingerly, planning carefully where to plant each step. “A one-shot deal. You blink and you lose. I really don't see the point of trying.”

The old man was watching my deliberate walk and said, “No, not once. That's your Western tragedy, not ours. We try again and again, if not in this instant, then the next, or if not in this life, there will be another, or the one following that. The opportunity is always there, although the key is not to look for external signs, but to realize that the issue is perception itself. Let me tell you another story.”

THE TURTLE BOY

A long distance to the south of us, on an island I believe, a king and his chief minister made a very unusual arrangement. They vowed that as soon as they produced offspring, they would have them marry each other. Regardless of who had the son and who gave birth to the daughter, their children would surely marry.

As the years passed the king was far luckier than the minister in progeny. Though both worshiped the amalak tree according to the tradition for obtaining sons and both prayed to Shiva often, the royal couple gave birth to several daughters, all lovely and clever. Meanwhile, the minister and his wife were able to give birth to one male child only, and a turtle at that. The minister's wife was pregnant with Turtle Boy, as he later became known, while the queen was carrying her first girl, and so the two were promised to each other. Of course, the royal couple was mortified to discover the identity of the match for their eldest, whom everyone regarded as the most beautiful girl in the land.

But a deal was a deal. When Turtle Boy reached a marriageable age, his father went to the king and announced that the time had come for uniting the two families. The king tried to change the topic for a while, commenting on the weather and the latest palace gossip. Finally he coughed, cleared his throat, and said, “You know, my friend, these are modern
times. Why not let the children decide whom they wish to marry. Let us go and ask my daughter. As she decides, so shall it be.” The minister, who was in no position to argue, mumbled his assent, and they went to the young lady.

The charming princess, radiant like a reflecting pool in a mountain garden, found it inconceivable that she should marry the turtle boy, but she knew her father was in a bind. So she agreed on one condition. “I shall marry him,” she said gravely, “providing he can bring me the solar-love flower.” The king smiled to himself. How could any mortal obtain that flower, about which even gods have only heard rumors? Turtle Boy had no chance. Downcast, the minister returned to his son and told him of the new condition for marrying the princess. The turtle, however, was not discouraged at all. “I can do it, father,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. He ignored his father's doubts and set off, lumbering slowly on his four legs, in the direction of the rising Sun.

It took the turtle a long time to reach the east, the place where the Sun rises every morning in his flaming chariot. When he finally arrived at that place, exhausted and famished from the long journey, Turtle Boy did not delay at all in executing his plan. Just in front of a huge arka tree, which would conceal him from the rising Sun, he lay down his shell across the path of the chariot and stuck out a fifth of his body. He hoped either to be crushed by the chariot wheel or win an audience with the Lord of Light.
The Sun, indeed, stopped the chariot in time and addressed the turtle lying in his path.

“What are you doing there my boy? I nearly ran over your head!”

“I beg your pardon, Lord Sun,” answered the turtle. “I did not mean to delay your journey. But my life is worthless unless I get one-fifth of the brilliance of your rays.”

“And why, son, do you want all that brilliance?”

The turtle told the Sun about the princess and his impossible task. He explained that being brilliant would undoubtedly lead to great things—to the rare flower itself. The Sun nodded compassionately. “I shall give you the fifth part of my rays' brilliance, but you must come out entirely from that shell.” As soon as the turtle crawled out of his shell, a blinding ray of light struck him and he became a fair-skinned and handsome man.

“There you are, my child. Your soft self is now revealed to the world.” The Sun gloated over his handiwork. “But now we must get you that special flower, the solar-love flower. I've heard of it, but have never seen it. I must admit I like the name…Unfortunately, the only one who knows how to get this flower is a godling who sleeps for a month at a time. In order to get to him you must first go through the godling who sleeps for two months at a time, and the road to him leads through the one who sleeps for three months at a time. Make sure you are there when they awake, and they will give
you what you need.” With these strange instructions the Sun left the minister's son, who retreated back into his shell and went looking for the godlings.

Following the Sun's instructions closely, he was able to obtain a magical gift from each of the three godlings: a deadly club to beat the demon that ruled the forest, a flute that could summon anyone and make any thought manifest, and a bag for obtaining whatever one wished. Finally, the last godling sent the turtle to a lake in the heart of a distant forest. There the turtle hid behind the reeds, carefully observing the advice he had been given. As noon gave way to evening and the light softened, three virgins appeared, dressed in beautiful rainbow-colored saris. The three young women quickly disrobed and jumped into the water, sending soft ripples that rocked the blue lotus flowers. When the women were deep in the lake, the turtle came out of the reeds and scooped up the pile of their clothing. The virgins shrieked in dismay, but he took off as quickly as he could and disappeared into a temple that stood a few steps from the lake. Then he locked himself behind a large stone door.

Soon he heard tentative footsteps behind the door and then a knock. “Mr. Turtle,” they spoke as one, “please let us have our clothes back. We shall give you anything you desire.”

“Can you give me the solar-love flower?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, we can. Just give us our clothes, and we shall go and fetch the flower for you.”

But the turtle was no fool. “No, that's not a good idea. Here is one sari. The one who gets dressed can go and get the flower while the others wait.”

That set off a chorus of protests as the young women struggled to cover their naked bodies. “Please don't make us wait here naked, sir,” they begged. “The shame is too much to bear.”

“Well then, you may all go, but you must first take an oath that you will bring me the flower.”

The virgins swore solemnly and got their clothes back through a half-opened door. They dressed hurriedly and ran to fetch the flower. It was a tiny flower with yellow and orange petals that smelled like the dawn. As Turtle Boy reached for it, they quickly stepped back. “What are you doing? You promised me the flower!” he cried.

The oldest-looking of the three said, “We shall give you the flower, there is no doubt about that, but you must first answer a simple question. Which one of us is the most delicate?”

The boy did not lose his patience; he was intrigued by this riddle, but asked how he was to judge such a thing.

The oldest spoke again. “Once on the way to the pool I walked under a pear tree and a single blossom petal fell on my head. I fainted on the spot and could be revived days later only through the diligent work of the royal doctors.”

The second virgin then spoke. “One summer night I slept on the roof of our house, and a light breeze blew my nightshirt off my arm. A single ray
of moonlight hit me, and I was crushed. Only the best physicians were able to revive me and restore my health.”

The third virgin spoke last. “Some time ago I was lying on the bank of the lake and drying myself in the breeze. Several miles away a woman was pounding grain with a pestle in her kitchen. Immediately painful blisters appeared on my body, and I became severely ill.”

Turtle Boy was impressed and congratulated all three for being the pinnacle of delicacy. Then he pronounced the youngest as the most delicate. “The youngest is the only one who made no physical contact with the object of her torment. The flower and the moonbeam, though fine, did in fact touch your bodies. The sound is truly distant, and therefore only the most delicate girl would feel it.” The virgins said nothing, but gave him the flower.

The minister's son returned home quickly in his human form, but crawled back into the turtle shell as soon as he arrived. He asked his father to lead him to the palace, where the king was mortified to see the modest-looking solar-love flower. He cleared his throat repeatedly and shuffled his feet, waiting for some miracle to intervene. In contrast, the princess was true to her word and happily agreed to marry Turtle Boy, who had managed to obtain for her that rarest of all flowers. She even smiled at the turtle with true affection. The wedding was a grand affair because at that very same time the king scheduled six other weddings for his other daughters. The six
lovely girls had been matched up with eligible princes, and the six handsome unions completely overshadowed the wedding of the oldest and most beautiful princess and her embarrassing husband.

After the seven honeymoons passed by in the blink of an eye, the king decided that it was time to select a successor to his throne. Because the king had no male issue, the heir apparent would be the man who could pass a simple test. Each of the young men, dressed in white clothes and riding a white horse, would hunt in the forest for six days. Whoever could kill and bring back the most impressive game would be declared the winner.

Six husbands armed themselves and confidently mounted their magnificent horses. They disappeared in six clouds of dust in the direction of the forest. The turtle received neither horse nor weapon. His wife, the king's oldest and dearest daughter, actually had to beg for an old mare and a short sword that could not cut through a ripe papaya. He was hauled on top of the pathetic beast and, to avoid falling off, his wife tied him down with some zucchini vines from the garden.

As soon as he disappeared into the forest, the turtle slipped out of his shell and landed on the ground as the handsome prince that he was. Using his magic flute and bag, he obtained a white horse and white silken clothes and then, with a mere thought, commanded all the forest animals to assemble before him. They were led by the demon who ruled the woods, but the prince dispatched him
with a quick blow of the club. He stood waiting, surrounded by thousands of large and small beasts in a vast clearing and, as he had expected, the six princes eventually arrived.

When they saw the majestic figure with all the animals surrounding him they exclaimed, “Greetings, Your Majesty. You must be lord of this forest. We have scoured the woods from one end to the other and have failed to see a single game animal. And here they all are with you!”

“What is your wish with my subjects?” asked the prince.

The hunters told him about the test they were facing and begged for permission to hunt. The prince shook his head, but said, “I shall give you each a deer if you lend me a piece of your clothing.” The six men gladly accepted the strange offer and tore off pieces of fabric from their royal shirts. Then they rode back to the palace to show their game. The prince, meanwhile, retreated into the shell and told his wife to present the king with the better half of a rat. The king was as furious with this offering as he was delighted with the six large deer. In a fit of rage, he drove the princess out of the palace.

In the course of the next five days this very same routine repeated itself, but the young men had to offer other articles to the turtle prince in exchange for their game: rings, earrings, locks of their hair, and other items. It was a small price to pay for the chance to become heir apparent, and the king was properly impressed with all of them.

On the final day, the turtle made preparations to go before the king in order to make his own case. When the princes saw him lumbering in his shell, they burst out in laughter and joked that his chances would improve if he were to bathe or anoint his shell. The turtle ignored their nasty comments and went off seeking privacy by a pond. He removed his shell, in which he kept his three magical objects, and entered the water. Unbeknownst to him, his wife had seen him emerging from the shell and was struck by his beauty. As her husband swam in the lake, the princess seized the shell and threw it into a pot of boiling water. The prince emerged out of the water into his wife's arms, his shell gone forever. He dressed in blue and gold silk garments, and the two went to the palace to meet with the king.

“Who are you?” asked the bewildered king when he saw his daughter walking next to a striking young man.

“I am Turtle Boy, the minister's son and your eldest daughter's husband,” the prince announced. After a pause he added, “And I am the heir apparent.”

At these words everyone in the room burst out in laughter. After all, he had been able to procure only six half-rats while the others served up deer and antelope and boasted great hunting skills.

“Your Majesty,” said the prince calmly, “at the cost of interrupting all this merriment, I must tell you that it was I who captured all those animals. I gave them to my brothers-in-law in exchange for
these.” He tossed on the floor all the things he had collected from the princes—pieces of clothing, earrings, locks of hair—and told the king about the bargain he had struck with the six men.

The king glared at the princes with barely contained rage. “You lied to me,” he boomed, “deceived me like a dumb tourist in a flea market—just to win the throne!” He promptly demoted the six to the status of court servants and gave all his daughters to the turtle boy, whom he pronounced heir apparent to the throne.