Shambhala (12 page)

MORNING POURS IN
through the windows, bathing the lovers in a golden nimbus. Stretching to the day, Eva smiles, “Why were you outside last night?”

“I was thinking.”

“About?” she further inquires.

“About you—how much I like being with you.”

Eva smiles, leaning in to hear more.

“About how I have to leave, but don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to, you know, you can stay here with me. You can come to Europe with me. I can take care of your passport and help you remember your life. We can locate your family. I told you my father has powerful connections, so we could easily.” Bahi gently puts his finger on her rapidly talking lips.

“I have to find Shambhala, Eva, no matter what else I may want to do.”

“Oh, Paul, you don’t even know if this place exists,” Eva says defensively, trying to sway him to stay with her.

“You’re right. I don’t, but if I didn’t try to find it, I would spend the rest of my life, Paul’s life, Bahi’s life, wondering, fretting, and regretting the opportunity to possibly help so many.”

Realizing her selfish intent, Eva quietly goes over to her small purse on the dresser. Pulling out a stack of
rupees
, she hands them over to Bahi. “This should help you on your journey.”

“No, I couldn’t. You’ve done so much for me already. Please.”

“Please, Bahi, don’t be silly. I am very well off. It’s nothing, really. Please, Bahi. For me?” Standing with one arm extending the rupees, she adds, “I need to know you can eat and you can buy some clothes and provisions for your trip.”

Bahi smiles, accepting the generous gift as he gives her a long hug. They both wish they could hold on forever. “I will have to leave in a few hours. I’ll buy you breakfast,” Bahi says playfully holding up the money. Eva’s frown counters the smile in her eyes.

“I feel like I just won Indian Millionaire,” Bahi says as he fans out the cash, lightening the mood.

Heading out for breakfast, they walk slowly, enjoying their final time with each other. Over breakfast they eat and gaze into each other’s eyes as if they will never see each other again. “How do you even know where to begin?” Eva asks.

“I’ll head North, as per the Baba’s instructions.” Bahi goes on to explain a little of his journey so far, omitting any conversation of talking animals so as to avoid a trip to the psychiatrist before leaving.

Finishing breakfast they walk to the main road. Bahi shops around, looking for anything that might be beneficial to his journey ahead. He buys a blue-and-black backpack, a classic name brand knockoff, from a small shop before moving on to a small garment shop next store. Looking around the small garment shop, tightly packed with hand stitched cotton, wool and linen wears, he greets the small woman busy at work with a large ball of yarn. Finding some warm wool socks and a warm black-and-white wool hat with fleece lining, he knows these will come in handy, especially as he goes further North. Eva comes over from the shop next door, holding up light orange-and-gray hiking shoes. “How about these?”

“Perfect,” he says, leaving payment on the knitting woman’s counter before going over to the shoe shop to fit his size. Putting on his new shoes, he secures the rest of his purchases in his backpack, and they walk off along the road, coming to a produce shop. After a short look around, he comes to the counter, holding apples, oranges, potatoes, nuts, and a small box of butter. Moving along on his shopping spree, he stops off at a shop where he loads up with biscuits, bread, a few packs of matches, a small pot to cook with, and a silver spoon. Feeling he is well prepared, he takes a deep breath as the two stop in silence at the edge of the road.

“Well, Eva, beautiful Eva,” he says as a tear falls down her cheek. Bahi wants badly to stay, but knows that moving on is the right thing. He places the three thousand
rupees
, left over from Eva’s gift into his pocket and hugs Eva tight. “Thank you so much for all of your kindness and love,” Bahi says as Eva pushes back.

“I almost forgot,” she says handing him a business card that reads,
Eva McCreary Wellness
.

“This is all my contact information, if you need anything, please call me,” she says. Bahi looks down at the card in a moment of silence. “Call me after you reach Shambhala. I want to be the first to know before you become an overnight sensation,” she says, lifting Bahi’s head with a smile as he looks again into her eyes.

“Eva, I definitely will. Like I said, I promise to repay your kindness.”

They stand in the stillness of the moment. “Well then, off with ya!” Eva says in quick Irish sternness, trying not to cry

“Yes, off I go.” Bahi kisses her softly on the forehead, then on the lips, before turning to sever, walking away. After a few feet he turns back to see her, as she waves to him. He waves back, and as he turns a street corner, she drops out of sight. Passing the path where he had entered the town only a few days prior, he looks in on the forest and thinks of how he feels like a completely different person than the tattered man who came into this city. Refreshed and renewed, he passes the cross and walks on northward upon a road that quietens as it leaves the busy city. On the tranquil street, he encounters a woman holding her child on her way toward town.

“Sir. Baby. Please,” she says looking down to the baby for sympathy.

He can see she suffers greatly. Her filthy, tattered clothes and skinny baby indicate her pain. He remembers this woman from the other day and is reminded also of his wish to help, but had no money. Taking the bundle of three thousand
rupees
from his pocket, he hands it to her as she quickly grasps in disbelief. “Thank you, sir, thank you.” Her eyes light up, and thinking he must be mistaken, she quickly conceals the money in her tattered garb.

“Thank you!” Bahi says as he turns and walks the winding road North, breathing in the morning air.

The dusty road is quiet, except for the occasional truck and other vehicles that dip in and out of the sun on the twisting road. Noticing how the road quickly becomes chilly in the shade, he rejoices now, having proper clothing for his trek North. After walking for about an hour, he stops to let the sun shine on his face. A truck holding a large winch on its back presses around the corner and slows as it approaches Bahi. It hums to a stop with a hiss that seems to kick up dust into the streams of light peeking out from the hillside.

“You ride?” The Indian driver offers.

“Sure! Going North,” Bahi says, pointing in the direction, noting the driver’s broken English.

“Where from?” the driver, dirty from a morning of work, asks.

“U.S.A.,” Bahi says, remembering his conversation with Eva.

“Oh, U.S.A. number one!” he says with a smile, as Bahi hops on the flat bed in the back and holds on.

“Where going?” the driver shouts back through the slim window in the driver’s cabin as the truck begins to move.

“Shambhala!” Bahi yells. The passenger turns with a look of confusion, “North,” Bahi says pointing upward.

“Oh North, North, we take you.”

“Thank you!” Bahi shouts as the vehicle, now in full throttle, makes it near impossible to hear.

Bahi hangs on tight as the countryside whips by. Feeling the excitement of a small child, he enjoys the ride. They pass twists and turns of woodlands and jungles, the quiet landscape offers much to look at, from simple, small villages adorned with huts, to serene, lush fields. After an hour of driving, the truck comes to a stop at a crossroad. “Going East,” the driver says, sliding the glass window open to talk to Bahi.

“Thank you,” Bahi says as he hops down from the vehicle.

As they pull away into the East Bahi stretches his legs and looks around, making a quick calculation of where North is from where the truck pulled off. Noticing one road goes East, one West and the South road they came from which turns West, he looks North, where a steep hill stands devoid of road. A small opening into the forest hill has a sign with Hindi writing on it and an orange Om symbol painted on top.
How auspicious!
he thinks, noting the irony of where he was dropped off. “Back into the woods,” he says outloud as he ascends up the small hill. Climbing the rocky path upward, his hands down as he crawls up the steep knoll, he reaches the top of the trail, noticing it flattens out a bit from there. Pieces of rock sporadically line the trail laid with pine needles, a bird chirps, and another hoots as monkeys quickly scurry through the trees above.

Taking an apple from his bag, he bites into it, slurping a big bite as he crunches and walks. Hearing a rustle up ahead, he can make out a goat, with yellow-stained fur and corkscrew horns, hopping up and down, its hind legs caught in some sticker bushes.

“You need some help?” Bahi asks as he draws closer, trying not to laugh at the old goat hopping up and down on her front legs in an attempt to kick the sticker bush from her entrapped hind legs.

“Would you be a doll and help a frail, old goat,” she begs kindly.

Bahi takes hold of the sticker bush stick that must have clung to her and ripped it from its bush. Careful not to stick himself, he rips it from her fur. “Thanks, young man, that’s better,” she says shivering her legs in a tremble of freedom. “Back’s not what it used to be,” she notes as she leads Bahi with a slow hobble of a walk. “Where are you off to?”

“Shambhala, have you heard of it?”

The goat stops and thinks earnestly, “No, I don’t believe I have, and I’ve been around awhile. I’m the eldest goat in these parts. Must be far from here, cuz I know every nook and cranny as far as the eye can see from these hills.”

“To be honest, I am not really sure where it is. I am told it’s way North, and if I keep on northward I’ll find it. They say it’s a pure land of perfect bliss, where the wise live and can answer any question,” Bahi explains, feeling an excitement well up inside.

“Oh! Shambhala, you call it, ay?”

“You’ve heard of it?” Bahi asks eagerly.

“Oh yes, many times in stories. Most animals won’t know what it is, but as a young goat, I hung around with a friend, another goat, who used to live on the small land of a very wise man who was able to communicate with animals like you,” she says scrunching her brow and just now realizing she is communicating with a human. “The man would tell stories of this Shambhala, as you call it, or the pure land.” The goat stops to engage Bahi in the nostalgia of the topic. “It is said there grows a wish-fulfilling cow and hills wrought with wish-granting jewels, but who knows, goats like to fantasize,” she says, shrugging off the seriousness of it all.

“Do you know where this wise man lives?”

“I do, although there have been many stories told to me about this man through my dear friend, rest his soul,” the goat says, bowing her head in reverence. “He told me he would gather animals who were doomed to be slaughtered and care for them, eventually releasing them back into the forest. My friend was one of them. He would tell us wild tales about this wise man who had great powers. And from what I gather, it may be difficult to talk to him.”

“How so?” Bahi inquires.

“He told of how men would come to seek his wisdom, and he would not see them for days, weeks, and they would be left to sleep outside on the stoop. Many would leave, and even those who stayed night after night would seldom be let in for his great wisdom.”

“I feel I need to try. Just going North is a broad destination, and my hope was that along the way I would meet someone who could guide me closer.”

“Come, my deary, I’ll show you the way,” the old goat says, her slim, diamond pupils peering at him wearily before turning to lead the way.

Walking a short distance, Bahi keeps pace with the old goat, slow with age. They come to a hilltop and walk to its precipice, looking out over the land.

“I’ve spent my life here. I love these blessed hills,” she says, sighing out a deep breath. “You see off beyond that large tree there?” she asks.

“I do.”

“Where you pass that tree, there is a trail that runs all the way up to the wise man’s cottage. It’s quite a distance, maybe a few days by foot.”

Bahi looks in contemplation, and noticing that the trail runs westward, diverting from his northern plans, he feels that it would be beneficial to seek this man out instead of aimlessly wandering North. “Thank you so very much!”

“Have you any food for your trip?” the goat asks.

“I do,” Bahi says taking off his pack and unzipping it. “Apple?” he asks.

“Why yes, thanks,” she says before biting into the apple, dropping the rest, which she eats after her initial slow chew.

Bahi joins in as he too crunches away at a sweet, warm apple. Finishing the apple, the goat walks over to a bush dotted with red berries and eats a few. “Come take some berries, they will give you strength.” Bahi comes over, closely inspecting the bush as he picks one off and looks at the plump, red berry, rolling it around softly in his fingers.

“These are full of the life force.”

“Life force?” Bahi asks.

“Everything is full of it. Just some have more of it. Some are tapped in unblocked. You see, there is an all-pervasive force, and when you recognize this you can draw from the most powerful and avoid the weaker, which draw the life force from you. These berries are ripe with power.”