Shambhala (10 page)

“I remember you telling me you were from New York, you and your friend Nick,” Eva says.

“Yeah? I don’t know, it’s weird, I remember things I must have learned throughout my life, but certain facts such as my name, my family and friends, pretty much my whole life, is totally lost.”

“Is it scary?” Eva asks, stopping.

Bahi thinks a moment, “Yeah, sometimes, at first it was very scary, but now I believe it’s somewhat of a blessing. Perhaps I would have just gone through life thinking I knew who I was, thinking ‘I am Paul,’ and that’s it. Now I have an opportunity to search deep to find out who I truly am, and honestly, that may be the scariest part.”

“What if after all you find out you are just Paul from New York?”

Bahi smiles, puffing a laugh from his chest through his nostrils. “You have a way of putting things in perspective, Eva. I don’t know, the ‘Paul from New York’ doesn’t sound like truth to me, but what do I know?”

“Well I like Paul from New York, even if he doesn’t remember he’s Paul from New York,” Eva smiles and continues walking. “What if you never find Shambhala? What if it is all a fairy tale?”

“Well I guess I’ll have to go back to the fairy tale of who I used to be then.”

Eva stops to think for a moment. “Touché,” she whispers as she begins to walk again, catching up to Bahi.

“I like you, Paul. You’re different, and this whole new mysterious outlook may do well for you,” Eva says smiling again.

“Bahi.”

“What’s that?” she asks.

“My name is Bahi. It’s the name I was given by a friend I met in Rishikesh after I lost my memory. And lately I feel more like Bahi than this Paul character.”

“Ha ha, OK then, Bahi it is. I like it. That means
brother
in Hindi I believe?”

“Indeed it does,” Bahi says, remembering how he learned this for the first time from Bandar.” Do you speak Hindi?”

“I wouldn’t say
speak
, but I studied it at University, always had a fascination with this wonderful country. Bahi, the great brother of man in search of truth.”

“Brother of all things,” Bahi says remembering the great lessons of Kavi.

Eva smiles the infectious smile she effortlessly wears, and the two proceed walking, Fly buzzes around with a female fly he seems to have gotten entangled with over some cow dung. Taking their time, Eva and Bahi wander the streets of Dharamsala, stopping often to see what the vendors have to offer. Bahi wonders at the many woolen socks, hats, and jackets—thinking how handy they would have been in the brisk nights he’s encountered.

“Paul . . . I mean Bahi, I’m sorry,” Eva says stopping in humorous correction. “Why wouldn’t you at least get yourself in order with your passport and money before heading on? Your family must be worried sick.”

Bahi thinks for a moment. Family is a portrait filled with shadows, yet his heart aches at what they may think happened to him. “Perhaps they think I am dead,” he says with concern.

“Yeah. It’s not very nice to play dead, you know,” Eva says.

“Eva, I fear that if I go back to the life I once knew, my journey to Shambhala will never continue. And I feel so close. It’s been several weeks already. What’s a couple of more?” he asks, feeling gray woolen socks that hang from a store front in order to avoid the disapproval of Eva’s gaze.

“I’ll make you good price,” the shop owner says, noticing Bahi.

“Is free a good price?” Bahi asks with a smirk?

“I’ll buy them for you,” Eva offers.

“Why are you so nice to me? You barely know me?”

Fly lands on his shoulder, rubbing his hands together, dipping his big bug eyes into them rapidly before buzzing off with his new mate.

“We all need each other, right? Isn’t this the course of your valiant journey, Bahi? Besides if it were me, wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, yes, now I would, Bahi would, but I can’t speak for Paul.”

“I’m certain Paul would too. I mean, you lost your memory not your heart, right?” Eva pulls out two hundred
rupees
. “How much?” she asks the short, weathered, Indian shop owner.

“Two hundred,” he answers.

“One fifty,” she barters, knowing that tourist season is coming to an end and two hundred
rupees
is way overpriced.

The shop owner silently agrees, and with a bobble of his head takes the money and hands her change.

“This is the thing, Eva,” Bahi says as they begin to move along the street, “I don’t know Paul, and it scares me to think he may be totally different from me. This is why I must go on to Shambhala. There I am certain I will find who Paul really is, who Bahi really is,” he says with conviction.

“What are you really looking for, Bahi?”

“I don’t know,” Bahi says honestly. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I set out to find who I was, and maybe I thought that meant my name, but deeper inside I know I was looking for more. I think losing my memory may have been the best thing that has happened.”

“There have been times in my life I wished I could just forget it all, start over. What makes you think you’ll know all the answers at Shambhala? And I know I’ve said this before, but how can you be sure it’s not just some fairy tale told by the locals?”

“If you had seen the things I have seen in the past few weeks you would not know the difference between fairy tale and reality. The more I look at this fairy-tale world all around me, the people suffering, this poor dog,” he points to a dog limping past them, “the more inclined I am to believe in the fairy tale of Shambhala than this nightmare we call reality.”

“But this is real, hence real-ity,” Eva contends.

“Sure it is, I can see it, feel it, smell it, but I am standing in the same reality as this dog, as that homeless woman there, and all three of us see and experience this exact moment totally differently, so who’s reality is the correct version?”

“Right, I get it, but we are all right, or wrong. I don’t know. What’s that got to do with Shambhala being real? You’ve gone off track.”

“I’m saying that, because it’s a far-fetched idea from our seeming ‘real world’ of pain and suffering, does not mean it doesn’t exist?” Bahi says, struggling to grasp at the answers while in defense of an idea he himself is uncertain of.

“I understand. I don’t mean to take you from your journey, I just wish you the best and want you to be safe,” Eva says softly.

“When I look around, I wonder if it’s ‘safe’ in the comforts of the ‘real world’? Is it really safe or just a way for us to divert our minds from the inevitable suffering to come. If I can give answers, find a way out, help those suffering most, wouldn’t the trip be worth it?”

“Of course it would,” Eva says as she reaches deep into a glass container at a quaint, remote restaurant they have wandered across. She pulls a chocolate rum ball from the container and puts it to Bahi’s mouth. “Take a bite,” she offers. Bahi bites the ball, feeling an instant rush of chocolate through his taste buds “It’s not all suffering you know, Bahi. Life is full of amazing, wonderful things, like rum balls,” she says raising her eyebrows as she pops the other half into her mouth.

“You’re right, Eva. I’m sorry to be such a downer.”

“It’s OK. I like your fortitude and resolve. It’s sexy,” she flirts.

Bahi smiles. “So what makes me able to enjoy a rum ball, but she can’t even afford one if she wanted to?” he asks, pointing to a homeless woman sitting dirty on a curb, hand out, looking defeated in every way. Her desperate face tells a story of a woman beaten down by life. Eva silently walks over and gives her two rum balls and one hundred
rupees
. The woman’s eyes light up with thanks as Eva turns and walks back toward Bahi.

“See, we can all enjoy a good rum ball. We just have to look out for each other, everyone, even, or especially strangers.”

Bahi smiles as Eva has become even more attractive in his eyes at this moment. “You’re an amazing person, Eva.”

“Oh, no. I’m just a person. We can all do this in some way, but you Bahi, you are brave, and I know you will find what you seek at Shambhala. I kind of wish I could come with you.”

“Well, you certainly changed your tune, huh?” Bahi chuckles. “You could come with me, you know.”

“I fly back to Europe in a few of days. And unfortunately I do remember my family. No I’m kidding, they’re brilliant, I love them. I have several family obligations to attend to or else I’d be right with you.”

Bahi smiles at her with understanding.

Walking up a steep hill they come to a short, iron gate painted green. “Here it is,” Eva says lifting the green iron latch atop the gates. They proceed toward the small cottage-like guesthouse that sits back behind a large lawn, nestled in the comfort of trees, off of a quiet road not far from the city streets. Coming to the small cottage, which sits before the strip of cottage-style rooms behind it, lined up one next to the other, Eva knocks on the door.

“We’ll see if we can get you a room,” she says, awaiting a response.

The door creeks open slowly to reveal a short, young, Indian woman with a pleasant smile, “Hello, is everything OK?”

“Yes, just fine, Rheta. I was wondering if you had another room for my friend here?”

“No, sorry, all filled. Maybe at guest house up street they have room,” she answers directing them to a friend’s guesthouse. Her soft demeanor and gentle eyes induce serenity in Bahi as she gently looks over at him.

“Thank you, Rheta,” Eva says, hands in a quick prayer position as they walk away from the door.

“Bahi, why not just stay at my place for the night? It’s already dark,” Eva suggests.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude. You have helped me so much already.”

“It’s more than fine. I would love the company, come on,” Eva says as she walks off toward the cottages in the back of the field.

Coming to the white door of her room, she unlatches the padlock, opens the door, and waves Bahi in. Fly buzzes in quickly behind him. The room is moderate, with two small beds side by side. Her red hiking pack sits in a corner next to a small end table strewn with random travel needs.

“Feel free to take a shower.
Mi casa es su casa
.”

“No, thanks. You’ve been so kind already.”

“No, Bahi. Stop being Mr. Humility. My pleasure is in helping others, so please, take a shower,” she says taking a towel from her pack.

“No really, I’m OK,” he says not wanting to intrude on her space.

“No really, do us both a favor and take a shower,” she insists, hinting bluntly.

Bahi smells his underarms. “Is it really that bad?” he giggles.

Throwing the towel at him, she responds, “It could be better. I have to go down the street real quick. I forgot something. Be back in ten minutes. Take your time, soaps in the shower.”

“Thanks!”

Eva exits the door as Bahi sits on the bed releasing a deep exhale. Sitting in silence, he thinks of Eva and his whole situation here in Dharamsala. Realizing he is well due for a shower, he heads into the bathroom. “You’ve been quiet,” he says, noticing Fly on the wall, knowing he has been consciously avoiding any conversations with animals and bugs so as not to come off overly insane to Eva, who already has her reservations about Bahi’s mental state. Fly just buzzes back at him as he goes into the shower.

He sits in the hot water as it runs onto his shoulders and down his back, soothing his tight muscles from the weeks of journey and sleeping on hard ground. The water goes from hot to warm and quickly starts to lose its heat as he finishes up, turning off the now cool water. Stepping out, he notices a sense of strength induced by the jungle. He feels that the elements of the natural world have put him more in accord with himself. Feeling a quality of strength and peace, he towels off and opens the bathroom door. Steam follows him out as he wears a towel around his waist. His hair is slicked back wet, as he feels refreshed and a deep sense of renewal.

“Here,” Eva says as she hands him some fresh new clothes similar to his dirty ones: black cotton pants and white t-shirt with a soft, wool grey, long-sleeved shirt with a single button on the opening of the breast.

“You really didn’t have to,” Bahi says.

“Someone had to,” she says kicking his tattered, dirty clothes to the corner. “And here. I figured you’d need one of these,” she says tossing a toothbrush, which he fumbles to the floor trying not to lose his towel in the catch.

“I promise I will pay you back for everything,” he says as he picks up the toothbrush from the smooth concrete floor.

“I know you will, I’m not worried,” she says without any expectation of payback.

“It will be nice to sleep in a bed.”

“Why? Where have you been sleeping?”

“You don’t want to know,” Bahi answers with a laugh.

“You’ve been sleeping on the streets. Please tell me you haven’t been sleeping on the streets.”

“I’ve been camping out so to say. It’s been fun.”

“In the woods? You’re crazy!”

“Am I?” Bahi asks seriously. Looking into Eva’s eyes, there is a moment of still silence broken by Eva, who turns toward the window.

“Come on, get dressed, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Bahi dresses, and the two make their way to a nearby Tibetan restaurant. They eat and talk, as the connection between them grows deeper with every word. Eva is very fond of Bahi, and his mysterious nature fascinates her. Finishing the meal, they make their way back to the room in the chill of night. Bahi puts his arm around her, drawing her close for warmth as they walk. She feels a comfort as if she has known him for years. Bahi, too, revels in the comfort of companionship after several weeks in the jungle.

Coming back to the room they sit on the bed in silence. Eva lets out a sigh of relief as she lights a white candle on her nightstand and turns out the light.

“I love candlelight, it’s so relaxing,” she says as Bahi smiles in confirmation. “Bahi,” she says softly, drawing closer to him.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” she whispers, looking into his blue eyes, feeling a flutter of excitement in her heart.

Bahi moves his body closer to Eva and kisses her on the lips. She receives him with delight, returning the kiss, breathing in his freshly clean scent and holding his scruffy face. “I like your beard,” she says as she caresses it and looks closely.