Stay Forever (13 page)

Fatima’s body and long curly hair was wet with sweat from dancing.  When Chantal moved her arms it is as though she were a goddess with six, all-flowing in beautiful graceful movements, one after the other.  In a flowing skirt and bikini top Fatima twirled and swirled with the other dancers on stage.

Chantal had eleven girls who danced and lived in the temple.  Also staying there were artists of all kinds, painter and musicians and they all worked together to show images of harmony of God, images of peace and love and laughter.  The dancing and music was part of this in order to create these images in people’s minds.  They held gatherings bringing thousands from across the lands in America. 

Yoga was practiced on the grounds for those who worked there and any guests visiting.  Fatima noticed that Juan seemed happier than ever here.  He was always relaxed, and though he did not participate in the yoga posture classes he always did the breathing exercises.  Breath was said to be of the most importance as it signified life.  The more aware we are of our breath, the more energy we are aware of.  The more we control our breath the more energy we can control.

In 1969 Chantal had opened the temple as a means of directing people to kundalini, the serpent power.

Our D.N.A structures are made up of snakes.  Life enters woman through the form of the snake.  The snake was in the Garden of Eden.  The serpent power is the source of all life in the universe.  The dancing in temple started with the dancers dancing on the bare ground with their feet, feeling the earth beneath them, and then of shaking the serpent from its base in the bottom of the spine up to the head, to bliss and liberation.

The yoga exercises were a form of awakening this serpent power within which gave the answers to the mysteries of the universe.   Chantal had met Juan many years before when he was in India getting crystal for his sculptures.  She had loved his sculptures and asked to have some for the temple.  Juan had explained to her that the form of hypnosis he used in his work was also a form of awakening the kundalini energy within.  It had seemed a divine coincidence.  For three years when they were both young Juan had lived on the temple with Chantal.  Fatima wondered if they had ever been in love though she never questioned either of them. 

The moon had kept Fatima entranced that night.  It seemed so light and transcendent, so fresh and energetic. It was full moon tonight. It shone its intense silvery milky rays.  Full moon increases vision and insight.  The moon stands on the far side of the earth leaving a direct relationship between the earth and sun.  On earth the ebb and flow of love from the sun is indicated by the cyclical nature of the moon. The graceful and gentle morning mist came and embraced the air,

The food at Chantal’s ashram was all grown there.  Gardeners tended the fruits and vegetables with love.  The chefs made delicious tasty healthy meals

With them and the fruits and vegetables, being grown there gave the meals a very wholesome homely flavor.  The soil was rich and fertile; they had been blessed with that.

The girls moved rhythmically in unison.  The energy was alive with passion as their hands caressed their bodies, and they swayed to the chanting moving away from each other, dancing freely, and then bowing to the goddess statues.  Kate had porcelain ice white skin, long ebony black k hair and intense green eyes.  The energy was alive with celebrated decadence. Coming closer again, touching each other in loving caress and smiles.  As the sounds of the sitar played, the beats from the tabla seemed to move through the bodies of the girls.  Rhythmically they slowed to a halt and the air was still with ecstatic anticipation.  Slowly as the drumbeats began again they moved together and the dancing began again.    On the platform outside people stretched into their yoga postures, hearing the sounds of music and dancing from the temple within.

To attract visitors to the festivals there were two Indian performers who were masters of illusion.  They performed a number of magic rituals.  The first night of the performance, Fatima had watched in disbelief at the performance.  The next day after preparing the food she saw the two performers sitting at the table.  She placed her plate nearby so that she would be able to hear their conversation the older of the two men smiled at her, the dining hall was filled with people enjoying their first meal of the day, and the murmur of voices dominated the room.

“Did you enjoy the show?

“It was amazing.” Replied Fatima.

“How did you do it?” she could not stop herself asking.

The older man laughed.

“Bark of the Indian chaitan is used to hypnotize the audience.”

“Is that it?” asked Fatima.  “It is all illusion?”

“Not exactly.” Continued the man.

“When he…” he gestured to the younger Indian sitting opposite “placed his hand in the oil, the oil only appeared to be boiling because an ingredient had been added which caused it to boil at a far lower temperature.”

Fatima remembered the trick.  A bucket of boiling vegetable oil had been placed in front of the younger Indian.  When he had placed his arm in it Fatima was sure he would be scarred and yet he had removed his arm without a mark on it.  The audience had been stunned.

Fatima told them she had very much enjoyed the show and then the two men bid goodbye.

The girl sat in silence and continued her meal alone.  

“It makes me so sad to think of all the genetic modification happening in the world.  “  Said one of the chefs over dinner.  “The earth provides enough food for everyone, “ he continued.  “It is just that we humans have to learn to share.”

Outside the temple Chantal was sitting with three of the dancers.  They sat in a circle in the grass.  One dancer was picking flowers absent-mindedly, telling a story and laughing while another, was weaving a basket and Chantal and a dancer called Irene sat in peaceful embrace looking up at the sky. 

Irene saw Fatima and patted her leg, gesturing her to lay her head on it.  Fatima lay her head down on Irene’s leg and looked up at the sky. 

Irene started to tell Fatima of a trance party she had been to in Brazil in which she found real quartz crystals on land.  When Irene danced she looked like a flower moving softly.  She is sweet funny and beautiful in a very delicate way.

And now Juan had brought her here, to a true paradise on earth it reaffirmed her belief that truly there was a God.  Dawn arrived and night vanished.  And as the night slipped by Fatima did not even notice that daylight was approaching, and she had not slept. There was so much activity in the temple at the time of the festival that when it was over the remaining people missed the excitement that had come with it.  Still the dancing and practices continued, and there remained enough people so there was always laughter and joy, sadness and tears.  A dream come true, they all sat by the fire and ate cookies, laughed told stories and sang.   The next day Fatima had awoken so joyfully, and seen the sky blue above her head.    Peace in her heart. Fatima joined the others on the temple grounds in preparing breakfast.

It shocked her more than she was able to comprehend.  That morning news arrived that Juan had died in his sleep last night. The air in the temple seemed heavy with sadness.  Although the old man had not spent much time with the others in the temple his presence had become a part of their lives and they had always felt fondness for him. Fatima stood stunned, oblivious to the sounds of Chantal’s sobbing.The pain she felt was anguish.  It gripped her stomach and she felt as if there was nothing supporting her.

Alone she sat in front in the forest of trees.  There is the Goddess of Compassion, she told herself.  Tara is born from the tears of her mate.  The rivers flow from her compassionate love.  Juan had told her that death was a Body of Light holding a lotus of wisdom.  The aching and despair only seemed to grow in her heart, and she found no support even in the solid earth beneath her.  Everything seemed empty now.  She heard the rustle of trees; sounds, which had once been so comforting to her, now seemed cold and distant. 

Flowers and incense lined the procession line as the coffin was carried to a sacred part of the grounds.  Chants to Maha Kali the Goddess of Death were heard repeated with prayer and devotion. 

Fatima had never seen a dead body before.  The sadness and tears stayed throughout the procession.  Maha kali was considered to be one of the most powerful deities.  The goddess of death was depicted as female.  A belt ordained her with the skulls of all the lovers she killed.  Her tongue was permanently out, showing fire and all the souls that had made her way to her or were making there way to her.  Bhagawan Das had spoken of a time when he called the deity, chanting her sacred name.  He said that at the time he had done it out of interest to see if she would appear.  When she had appeared before him, surrounded by fire, and skulls and the dead souls, she demanded.

“What do you want?”

Bhagawan Das had been unable to speak, and thought that telling the deity he had just wanted to see if she would appear seemed pointless.  She left abruptly.

Maha Kali was a deity to be treated with utmost respect.  She was the destroyer and death of all.  Yet without her there would be no creation.   All physical form would remain eternally the same.

The chants rang in the air and the temple seemed to be alive with the presence of the deity.   “Om maha kali hare, om maha kali hare, om maha kali hare.”  “Sacred mother I journey to your sacred bosom, maha kali hare.”

The air remained still.

Surrounded with peace, surrounded with joy, surrounded with impermanence.

   Every day she tried to keep her mind silent as she walked along the beach.  She tried to visualize the gods in her mind as she chanted their sacred names.  Ganesha with an elephants head, breaking all obstacles as he roams freely thought the jungle, Saraswati, white like the lotus flower were the clothes that ordained her body.  Everybody loved Krishna. Oh Krishna. All the milkmaids adored him.

Imagine a shaded shrub with man and woman smiling at one another.  The lovers are Radha, the beautiful woman and Krishna.  Krishna gives her everything she desires and more.  She surrenders herself to him and he brings her to bliss.  Under the shaded shrub of lovers, a river runs past.  The lovers absorbed in each other hear the sweet trickling sounds of the river.

Fatima stayed in Chantal’s ashram.  Together they mourned the death of Juan and worked to bring love and peace and harmony to the ashram’s visitors.  Months from the death of Juan Fatima found her in love romantically.

The first time he had kissed her it had taken her by surprise.  His lips had touched hers, so tenderly though it was startling; they had felt warm and inviting.  When she moved she had called him closer with her eyes.  He had caressed her for so long, feeling the softness of her skin.

He told her he was an Indian prince.  His eyes were so peaceful.  His manner so gentle, he took Fatima sailing around the world.  She had servants waiting on her for food, showering her.  They perfumed her body with scented oil, while jasmine orchid and rose petals filled her baths.  She had married the prince.  Fatima had not stopped loving him since the moment she had first seen him.  Whenever he left her side she missed him.  She remembered the things he told her and a soft glow would grow in her heart, which she sometimes found uncontrollable.  He never left her for very long and always returned with gifts and smiles. 

Your love is your god and your god is your love.  Your love is you god your god is your love.

Siddhartha loved Fatima. She had brought a light into his life like he had never known.  He thought of her always and his greatest pleasure was to be with her. When he was away fulfilling his duties he never forgot her.  Fatima loved him, he could see it in her eyes and feel it when she melted in his arms.  He felt in when he touched her and how she surrendered to him,

Siddhartha walked across the floor in his loose white trousers and no top.  His tanned muscular body had a golden tan and his lips looked like a freshly cut fig.  The wind chimes blew softly.  He went to the kitchen to boil some water and make some rose tea. bringing a cup of tea to Fatima.  “I developed our photos”.  He placed a package on the table.  Fatima picked them up. 1 Fatima is on the sofa reading. 2 Siddhartha and Fatima’s lips are touching smiling laughing looking at the camera. 3 Siddhartha is kneeling on a mat on the floor playing the guitar.  His head in down low. 4 Fatima is standing by the window looking at the full moon.  Only the light of the moon and the silhouette of her hair and body are visible.  5 Fatima is picking flowers in the woods.  The colors around her are vibrant and her bending posture is graceful. 6 Siddhartha and Fatima\s feet, taken by Siddhartha 7 a photo of a painting done by Siddhartha\s father showing three lakes joining in to one with wildlife. 8 Siddhartha and Fatima sitting with Chantal at the ashram the three are joyful and smiling and Fatima and Siddhartha are holding hands.  9 Fatima’s delicate face looking shyly at the camera. 10 Siddhartha looking deep into the lens with a mocking frown on his face his white shirt open and a hint of a smile in his mouth.  11 Siddhartha looking out to sea, the horizon of the sky and sea has merged into one. 12 The sea sky and clouds in dusk light..   “I love that last photo.” Said Fatima.  Of the sky and the sea.”  “Do you not like the ones of me asked Siddhartha sadly, and then smiled warmly at Fatima, his eyes alive with mischief.