Shambhala (19 page)

MORNING BREAKS AS
the red cinders of last night’s fire still glow warm. Bahi, pulling his hat snug to his head and wrapping the warm shawl around his body, throws the last pieces of wood on the burning cinders. They quickly catch fire as Ajee stands and stretches, drawing closer to the flame, to sit on his hind legs, warming his back as he looks toward the mountains. Eyes half closed in the bliss of warmth, Bahi tongues his teeth and uses a small stick to scrape them clean, as he has done many times before on this journey. Handing Ajee some bread and an apple, they sit and eat as the fire dwindles.

Finishing up, Bahi closes his eyes and goes inward in mediation. Sitting and breathing, he goes deeper, dropping out of all thought, attuning to the forest around him, feeling the energy of the mountains and connecting his heart to it. After only a short time, he opens his eyes and prepares for the journey ahead as he packs his satchel.

“We can reach the foothills of the mountains by dark and spend the night by the mountain pass. Let us be weary of hungry beasts, like ourselves, that will stop at nothing for a meal. The cold creates desperation in these lands,” Ajee warns.

Bahi looks off into the distance. A tinge of fear sparks up as he thinks of how they will know the way once they get up into the mountains. Reflecting on the fear, he allows himself to feel it and thinks,
With or without the fear I am going
. So he opts to go without the fear and allows the fear that is there to act as awareness as he nears territory he knows he will have to be alert in.

“Everyone’s gotta eat, Wolf,” Bahi says, breaking the silence.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ajee fires back.

Bahi smiles to relieve the tension and begins to walk along the hard, cold earth, crackling the frost that melts into each step. Again they walk all day, stopping only once to rest and eat some nuts, apples, and bread. The field finally closes in as they come into the foothills of the vast mountains that shadow the valley at the mountains pass. The air is crisp and feels good as it pours deep into their lungs. Bahi notices an incline that wraps up into the vastly covered pine forest. A crystal blue stream runs slowly under a partially iced coating, where Bahi fills his canteen with water. He takes down a large gulp of the freezing water, which strikes with the wrath of a piercing headache. Ajee walks over to see Bahi squinting in pain as he rubs his temples.

“You, uh, all right buddy?”

Bending his head as the pain dissipates, Bahi looks up. “Yeah, ice cream headache.”

“What’s that?” Ajee asks.

“When you drink cold water too fast and get a pain in your head.”

“Ice cream?”

“Ice cream is a dessert we have back home. Maybe one day I’ll show you.”

“I assume it’s a cold dessert, like berry juice that has dripped on snow. Let this be a warning to take these mountains slow, or a headache will be the least of your problems.”

Bahi looks up in thought,
Where is home, Bahi?

Bahi thinks again for a moment before speaking, “Home was a place very far from here, but this is my home now, planet Earth is my home.”

Ajee nods, “Now you’re thinking like a true, lone wolf.”

“Except I am not alone. In fact, I don’t think I would have come this far without you, Ajee. Thanks,” Bahi says as he stands up from the stream.

Ajee smiles, bending down at Bahi’s feet. “I am at your service, friend.”

“Oh, Ajee, It’s you I should be bowing to.”

“We’re a team now,” Ajee says as they walk off to a spot secured by a rising hill.

“This seems like a good place for the night,” Ajee says, and in agreement they again prepare for the night by building a fire pit and collecting wood.

As the fire once again begins to blaze, Ajee asks, “Goat?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll order the rabbit again tonight,” Bahi says realizing the absurdity of his request.

Ajee runs off into the mountains, and again Bahi waits alone. He feels insecure as he waits. He keeps looking up behind as if something is watching him. The time passes, and Ajee has been gone longer than usual, Bahi begins to worry. About an hour passes when Ajee finally arrives back.

“Where were you? I was worried.”

“I tried my best, but no animals in sight except the goats, and they were snatched up by a couple of panthers.”

“Panthers, huh? Well, looks like bread and apples for dinner then,” Bahi says, pulling out the last of the bread and the two last apples.

After they finish, Ajee still feels hungry and lies down feeling the instinctual fear of urgency to find food at daybreak. They curl up, warmed by the fire’s glow. Both have trouble falling asleep and engage in conversation long into the night, subconsciously on alert. Finally, deep into the night, as Ajee goes on with a story which ends with a question, he notices no reply from a sleeping Bahi and Ajee too drifts off to sleep, waking often with intuitional alarm for his surroundings.

FEELING A THUMP
on the ground next to him, Bahi opens his eyes to Ajee proudly standing over two large rabbits.

“Breakfast!” Ajee proudly affirms.

Bahi cringes at the sight of death so early in the morning, but his belly rumbles in the empty canyon of his stomach, prompting him up to make a small fire to cook the rabbits. Ajee eats his raw. Bahi is tired of eating rabbit, bread, and apples, but knows he must sustain himself if he is to make it up into these mountains. Biting into the gamey thigh of the rabbit, he thinks of how the simple act of eating creates so much suffering.
Soon I will be hungry again
, he thinks.
I will consistently feed my pains until what?
Then, shifting his focus, he becomes grateful to the rabbit for giving its life for him, grateful for Ajee bringing it to him. He watches as Ajee crushes the bones in his teeth. He thinks of all the plants this rabbit must have eaten to grow so big and how those plants come from other plants as seeds that ate the nutrients in the soil.
And so it goes
, he thinks, and he is grateful for it all.
And what if a panther eats me?
The cycle will go on and on, unending.

“Good rabbit?” Ajee asks, interrupting Bahi’s thoughts.

“Very good, thanks,” he responds tossing the bones on the fire and throwing the charred head aside.

“Oh, that’s the best part,” Ajee says as he cracks the skull in his mouth.

Bahi turns away in disgust and begins to pack up his satchel, after cleaning his hands with water from the canteen and drying them on the fire, which slowly begins to burn out.

Tossing his satchel on his back, he looks over at Ajee. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” Ajee says feeling comfortably full.

Bahi feels that once they get into the mountain he will know which way to go. They ascend up the pine-lined path that curves around toward an opening leading out toward the edge of the large mountains. Walking across the flat ground that sets between two large mountains, Bahi is in his head as they walk. Ajee can feel the seriousness in his silence. Biting Bahi’s shoe in an attempt to lighten the mood, it sends Bahi tripping down as Ajee jumps upon him.

“What are you do…?” Bahi is interrupted by Ajee’s large tongue licking his face as he pins him to the ground.

Bahi begins to laugh uncontrollably and grabs hold of Ajee’s fur, throwing him aside, but Ajee playfully pins him down again. Bahi is no match for Ajee’s strength. The two engage like little children playing.

At the same moment two men round a clump of trees not too far across the field. One man, a tall white Englishman, notices the two tussling on the ground and instructs his Tibetan Sherpa who carries a large sack and rifle on his back to come close.

“Good Lord, that wolf will have him for supper,” he says as he draws his rifle from the Sherpa’s pack.

Taking aim, he fires a shot that echoes a crackling far off into the mountains. Ajee lets out a loud yelp and shoots off across the field as Bahi quickly springs to his feet, confused. Ajee drops down to the ground, and Bahi notices the two men as he runs over to Ajee, who breathes rapidly, bleeding profusely from his side. “No, no, no!” Bahi yells out as his heart races in the realization that Ajee has been shot. Dropping to his knees, he puts his hands on Ajee, who pants rapidly, staring at Bahi in shock. “Ajee, Ajee, you’re gonna be all right!”

Ajee begins to pant more slowly as the two men stand and squint, trying to understand what’s going on. Handing the rifle back to the Tibetan Sherpa, the Englishman makes his way slowly over to them, followed by the Sherpa.

“Bahi,” Ajee says looking up into Bahi’s Panicked eyes, “everything ends,” he continues, letting out a final breath, his lifeless eyes still staring as Bahi picks up his head looking to the sky. “No, no, no, Ajee,” he sobs, tears streaming down his face as he shakes Ajee. “No, you can’t, Ajee, please!”

In scared confusion, Bahi looks back at the two men coming toward him as he rises up in anger and runs full force toward them. Bahi’s face is wet with tears as he swiftly draws closer to the assailant. “Well, boy, I must say you were close to dead there.” Just then Bahi tackles him to the ground and just as fast, he pops up, pulling the rifle from the Tibetan’s pack, taking aim at the Englishman and Tibetan, waving the long, narrow, steel barrel back and forth in a craze. “That was my friend!” he yells, waving the rifle.

“Do say? I am sorry. I was unaware that was your pet. I thought . . . ”

“You thought what? I should kill you both!” he yells, overwhelmed with rage.

“That would be just fine,” the Englishman says calmly, “but you would have a hard time with an unloaded weapon,” he adds, grabbing the barrel of the rifle, pulling it from Bahi’s hands, and handing it back to the Sherpa.

Bahi stands in silent confusion. “Why?” he cries out.

“Sorry chap, I thought you were in danger.”

Bahi gathers himself, consciously breathing as he stares at the two men in disgust, realizing their misconception.

“Look, come back to the village with us, and I’ll give you another pet, whatever you want. We have many,” the Englishman offers.

“I don’t want a pet; he was my friend,” Bahi says under his breath, trying to contain his emotions.

“I am truly sorry. You can see my miscalculation from here. Thought you were in danger. Please come. We’ll warm ourselves by the fire, have some homemade rum, eat, and resolve this misunderstanding.”

“I can’t,” Bahi says, looking back at Ajee’s lifeless body lying before the massive mountains. “I am heading into the mountain,” he says wiping tears from his face.

“The mountains?” the Englishman asks, looking over at the Tibetan Sherpa, who cracks a smile in his weathered face, which is permanently tanned like a piece of rawhide, from a lifetime of wind and sun. “Where are you headed? We are in for quite a storm tomorrow. You might want to know,” the Englishman looks up at the sky, trying not to laugh at Bahi, whom he thinks is a bit on the kooky side.

“I’m headed to Shambhala.”

“Shambhala?” the Englishman lets out a deep belly laugh. “No, come on, really.”

“Really, I’m headed there now.”

“Oh yes, and we just came from the kingdom of heaven, Jesus says, ‘hi’,” he says as he lets out another laugh. “Boy, Shambhala is a fairy tale told by the Tibetans. Surely you know this?”

Bahi cringes the anger that mixes with fear that he may be right.

“Come, you can stay at my place in the village and wait out the storm.”

Bahi nods his head “no” and turns toward Ajee. Walking over, he drops to his knees as a silent cry overcomes him. The Englishman, now thinking Bahi is insane, comes over with a small sack. Patting Bahi on the back, he looks up at the Englishman silently.

“Here is some food for your journey and a small bottle of rum. Are you sure you know what you are doing? These mountains are no place for the solo traveler.”

Bahi takes the food wrapped in white cloth. “So will you come back with us? We can provide you with better provisions for your quest.”

Bahi remembers the words of Maha Bharat telling him not to make haste. “I must keep moving.”

“The village is only a few hours from here. Are you certain?”

“I am certain,” Bahi says with a strong determination.

“OK, boy. Well then, we must move on as to reach the village by nightfall. Good luck. And if you change your mind, just walk southeast, we’ll be there. I am terribly sorry for this,” the Englishman says as he casts a shadow, looking down at Ajee before walking away.

Bahi’s mind races, he thinks perhaps he should go back to the village as he looks back at the men who walk off. A cold wind blows. Pushing his hair in front of his eyes and turning back toward the mountains, into the wind, his hair is pushed back and he feels the right choice is to keep going. Filled with fear and confusion, he weeps over the body of Ajee, whose blood soaks into the ground. Bahi stands up and walks over to his hat, which fell off when they were play fighting. He can feel the cold wind behind his ears shooting into his head. Putting on his hat, he paces back and forth, talking to himself, “I gotta move,” he mumbles as he walks back to Ajee’s body. Bahi’s shadow streaks across Ajee as he stares down on him. “Where are you now, friend?” he whispers.

Contemplating what to do with the body, he realizes the best thing to do is to leave it there. The ground is too cold for burial, and by the time he gathers wood to burn it he would waste valuable time he needs to get into the mountains before dark.

“Go back to where you came Ajee, everything ends,” he says before saying a prayer over his still body, a prayer for protection, a prayer for serenity, and a prayer for gratitude. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, choked up he walks away. Ajee’s fur blows in the cold mountain air as Bahi walks toward the opening that leads up the mountain.