Valley of Flowers (12 page)

For being so mindful, the old man was
offered yet another remarkable vision. The soft-spoken rainbow
could again be seen. It arched as any high-flying arrow over this
hallowed battleground.

The old man thought, Now is the time for
doing.

He looked to the youth who seemed spoiling
for a fight. He smiled. The old man moved to join this fine young
fellow. He went as one who had good news to tell. Arjuna had the
desire to relate the rhythm and hum of the grand eternal as best he
knew it. He wanted to recount what he had only just experienced,
though the wish did not possess him.

To that aim, he walked to his goal of
crossing the old stone bridge or mysterious place of both arrival
and departure. He went as one who can easily hold in what he had to
say.

Nicolas turned to face the
old man. He watched him crush scores of flow
ers as he went. He saw him walk through the flowered valley
where even carrying plastic is a no-no. He saw on the old man's
face he was in no real rush to instruct.

To him, Arjuna appeared
not in a hurry to say a thing more, and he
relaxed some. Nicolas Kumar watched the old man cross over
the stone bridge then come his way.

"Surely one who is born today is sure to
die," said Arjuna, stepping over to him happily. "True too, all
alive will live always and never have you not been."

Arjuna
stopped. He
looked around. He appeared
refreshed. He said, "In time every record will dissolve away. Not
one will remain. I can guarantee you not one record will linger on.
It is no different with a stone. When touched by the sun's spotless
flame and running water long enough, it is sure to look like
a
chapati
bread
at the end."

The old man gazed at one flower nearest him.
He looked back at Nicolas. He said, "Now in playing other courses I
ask only that you follow the flight path of the sun. Each day
begins in the morning when the sun sets off in the east. It shines
in all these places north and south then comes to rest in the west,
in Gujarat. The sun’s spotless shine carries on its daily golden
way to the Arabian countries. Or you can have it that in a moment's
time the sun’s dawning praise signals that you are in India’s east,
in the age-old city of Benares perhaps. Halfway through this cycle
you are in the south, which could be in the state of Kerala. When
the sun sets down to rest you are in the west. As with the course
of the sun the ball sets off and rises. It transits up to arrive at
some peak. Then it descends. It goes down to rest awhile."

Arjuna held up. He then added, "Willing is
not enough, you must also act. Know too in this one existence you
are asked to be courageous."

Nicolas
had a startling
revelation. The eye-opener he knew had been hinted at before. And
what was giving him such a fright was that he would be going on
alone here, into the ceaseless wild.

15

Nicolas was surprised he would be taking
this news so hard. He closed his eyes and held back his sadness. He
switched from using eco-lights to looking at the old stone bridge.
In the remaining moments with
this good teacher, he judged the stone bridge to be strong and
solid. It looked to have lasted a millennia. Now a
normal
monsoon from his eyes could
at
anytime
be expected.
The
old man
appeared
ready to leave when he spoke more.

"Now the number of hits you take, count them
as rows of pearls, linked each-to-each as with every breath you
take in and also give back
.
"

Nicolas first thought to ask this sage what
was really on his mind. Instead he throated softly, "But will you
not see me through this colorful valley?" He wished to erase
then
what he had only
just said.

Arjuna remained silent. The old man thought
how best to answer the
youth’s
question. It occurred to him to say that he
was at the stage when quiet contemplation, complaints, along with
ever-present pain were likely to take over.

He kept
all
that to himself, however.
Instead, the old man
replied by sending out
first
a sigh that
sounded like
extreme
exhaustion.
He
breathed
in.
He
said, "I
a
m at the heartfelt most
excellent stage in life. I
’m
seventy-two and have said my last farewell to the
game. This course is yours."

The news
was something Nicolas felt might never sink in.
As for being
left lone here
,
the
idea
took
him
to despair. He held back
feelings of heartbreak.
Nicolas
felt he had been tasked with some new appointment. He
concerned himself
next
with the
way
ahead. The pathway had claimed sacred
ground. Nicolas
peered at the snow-clad mountains through
moist eyes. The
y looked
like glittering colossals
,
fresh from a violent storm.

Again
he
thought to leave this paradise.
Nicolas wished to do an about-face,
head back down the mountain, take the overnight bus, to enjoy once
more his
wild
turn at
play with his school chums
back
in the
big
city. He
wanted
to be
just as
any fortunate city dweller: arrive at the
valley and stay briefly, promise to return some day, but only after
a number of years had safely gone by.

Till such times, he thought
.

Nicolas
next
focused on this guide
about
to leave him. This raised his fearing
speculations.
He
w
ished
to know if his
father had paid this guru.
Nicolas
Kumar
w
anted
to know if he could treat him as one who is
hired
,
and
so
make him do as he wished.
He
felt it was this
good
teacher's
solemn
duty to stay here
and guide him.

I mean
,
why else did he come up here
, anyway
?

Nicolas felt not present at the spot he now
stood. Time ticked so slowly. This lasted until Arjuna spoke and so
decide himself that time should altogether stop.

"Think of me as an honorary starter," he
said. As to this time-honored tradition, the ceremonial starter is
a sweet touch. It is a time to witness golf royalty.

The old man handed the ball back to young
Nicolas. He said, "And of course there is always a teacher here to
help guide you." He then gave a sweep of his arm over all in the
valley. This was in playful imitation of Nicolas from earlier.

Arjuna turned to leave. He headed towards
the stone bridge. He turned back a time or two while walking.

The youth’s gloomy eyes posed risk of severe
flooding. He experienced a sudden upwelling. Nicolas feared falling
into uncontrollable crying. He thought this was done only by the
saddest saps.
He held out hope
things would change for the noticeable better.
It occurred
to
him
this
good
teacher could see him crying.
He
felt
it
would be one clear directive for
him to stay longer
, and
s
o he let go, allowing the dams to break
. Nicolas
open-carried his heart as if it
were on his sleeve, blood-red and beating.

To this water-shedding, a curiously precious
commodity in the mountains considering so much rain,
he
could not then see out. His
expression of sorrow reached a peak. He tried clearing up his
sight.
He
saw that
Arjuna had not returned
but
was instead some distance off.

Still blurry,
he
watched
Arjuna
step onto the stone bridge.
He
saw him hold up on the bridge's
crest. He
saw him
raise
his hand in a casual goodbye.
N
ext thing
Nicolas
knew was
that
this teacher, this humble guide and good friend
to him here would not be coming back.

Again
,
he
felt
the sharp pang of
some
departure.
He
was a bit
shame-faced for outwardly crying. With no more
good
counsel to see him on his way, the
image of his father made a brief though surprise visit. Nicolas saw
his father atop the old stone bridge.
His father
had on his face the same stern look when
he had
left to come
up
here.
This visit too would end in
heart-wrenching pain.

He saw his father raise his arm further in a
gesture of
fond
farewell.
Nicolas
noticed his bracelet, a white ouroboros, slide down not his
father's arm but Arjuna's.

"But how shall I find this honorable
teacher?" he shouted in an effort to get back.

"Easy!" called the old man
. A
nd his mischievous grin was again on his
tanned face. All grown up
,
Arjuna sported his boyish smile. He reminisced a
moment
or so
atop the
old stone bridge.
Then
h
e yelled, "This chant I leave you with!"

Naughty and witty
,
the
old man
hollowed his raised hand
. He
put
it up
to
his mouth.
He
did this to guide the vibration of his resonating
deep
voice. Almost magically the
colors of the Kundalini showed brilliantly behind him. Colors as
these appeared to gather
all
round. The sun or grand mark of time also
shined. The Grand Chronocator spread a ring of liquid-gold light
over all in the Valley of Flowers.

The old man breathed in deep. He appeared
ready to bellow a glad tiding with his trumpeting
loud
voice.

Nicolas
understood
this statement would be meant for him to
draw from here, as well as for years after
. He knew too this would likely end this major
scene between them.

"Look for one who is wide-eyed and wanders
freely!" the old man shouted
.
A
nd again he sported
his
boyish smile that many have said could push up
mountains.

Arjuna bent to touch the
old
stone bridge in a gesture of
darshan
. He
crossed
over
the bridge.
The old
man
reached the far side of the stream
,
or nascent new ocean that
just
now separated them.
Again, he
opened
then hoisted
above him
his rainbow-colored umbrella.
He headed
back through
the
fairway made up of
a multitude of
colorful wildflowers.

Nicolas watched him go. He saw
him
climb the short rise to arrive
back on
to
the 1st tee.
He watched
Arjuna
go
behind a small hillock
there.
Then
he was
out
of sight
.
Nicolas
stared at the spot lit up
by
a
prettifier sun. The
departure of this teacher left him feeling so alone.

16

Nicolas
wore
a deserted look.
He
prepared in his heart for
more
flower destruction.
He
stood unmoving
,
looking as if he were a physicist doing
time solving. He attempted next to make light. The one without an
anatha or
guiding
teacher
said
again
he
regretted getting out
of bed for this.
He
turned back to look at what lies ahead for him.
He
saw that nature seemed so exceedingly
restless.

Nicolas
surveyed a white flag on a white flagstick.
The flag on the green stood beyond the flowers and snow-melt lake.
It fluttered in the breeze faithless.
The white flag
pointed
at
the ground.
This
told him he should
just
lie down and wait for vultures.

Nicolas
considered the flag's suggestion for him.
He
stood
for a time
staring
. He
dwel
t
on the nature of defeat. Then his nerves
moved on some to steel city.

"Time to move into action," he said.

Nicolas thought of the ball he had dropped
one club length from the point of entry. He went without hesitation
to
stand
over
it
. He
moved
then
to hit with the club he
already had.
He
held out
in front of him the pitching wedge.
He
gripped it like the law was in his hands. Next
thing
he
knew a dozen or
so flowers shot up
from
the drop zone. They
had flown
up
from his
Swoosh!
swing.