Stick Out Your Tongue (5 page)

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Authors: Ma Jian

BOOK: Stick Out Your Tongue
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‘Three days later, the smoke finally lifted, and I saw Kula, still stuck on top of the bronze pillar. She was dead now, but her musky fragrance still filled the air.
‘The monks and I packed our belongings and prepared to leave the monastery. The abbot said that it was an unsuitable location for a monastery, because it stood on the eye of the Sea Dragon King. He said that the monastery should have been built beside the river at the foot of the mountain. I tried many times to follow the monks down, but the moment I could no longer smell Kula's fragrance in the air, I would fall to the ground.
‘In the end, I decided to stay on the mountain and keep watch over her. I moved into the largest
room of the abandoned monastery. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would hear Kula groan and grunt as though someone were making love to her. After two years on the bronze pillar her body became thin and dry. When the wind blew, she would swing from side to side like a weathercock. When it died, she would always face Nepal, and the horse-trail that runs between the mountain goddesses Everest and Shishapangma. As the years rolled on, her face grew as white as snow and her hair became darker and shinier. Then one day, she finally left the stupa and floated to the ground like a sheet of paper. I walked over, rolled her up and carried her with me down the mountain.'
 
When he finished telling me the story, he pointed to the wall behind him. ‘That's her,' he said. I jumped to my feet to take a look but, because of the lack of oxygen, was soon blinded by a sea of gold stars. Once my vision had cleared, I lit a match and went to touch what was hanging on the wall. It was as hard as dried sheepskin, but the hair was still smooth and glossy. I lit another match, and saw that below the black hair between the thighs there was indeed a large black hole.
The district clerk whispered to me that the old silversmith didn't allow matches to be lit in his
room. The next morning I climbed to the top of the mountain. It was just as I described at the beginning — all that remained of the ancient stupa was a mound of loose stones.
As I left the village, the dust that I'd raised the day before was still hanging in mid-air. In front of me, a few girls carrying stones on their backs were walking slowly uphill. After a few steps they stopped to catch their breath, then turned to me and smiled. I recognised one of them as the girl who'd leaned out from under a stone roof the day before and stared at me while combing her hair. Her breasts were very large. I noticed that where the second button was missing, a safety pin tugged her shirt together, faithfully protecting her flesh from view.
The mountain range stretched for hundreds of kilometres, naked and silent under the sun. As dusk approached, the setting rays drenched the slopes in a blood-red light. While the sun sank below the jagged peaks and the last ribbons of light hovered between sky and earth, I started climbing. In those mountains that rose like the ruins of an ancient city, I searched in vain for a pulse of life. The mountains hauled me up, drowned me, then reduced me to an empty carcass. When I could walk no further, I collapsed on the ground, dug my hands into the rocks and sobbed like a child. Then I got up and smiled, and walked back down to the road.
It was the day after I'd left Raga. In my rucksack was a ritual cup, made from a human skull, that I'd bought in a street market. The presence of the skull upset and disturbed me. I had decided to climb those barren mountains to try and clear my thoughts
a little and work out what I should be doing with my life. In Tibet, religion permeates every grain of earth. Man and God are inseparable, myth and legend are intertwined. People there have endured sufferings that are beyond the comprehension of the modern world. I am writing down this story now in the hope that I can start to forget it.
 
She was discovered nine days after the death of the Living Buddha, Tenzin Wangdu. She was just nine days old, but her eyes were wide open and carefully observing the people and objects around her. The shack was built of mud and straw bricks. Light from the butter lamp shone on the frayed cloth of her mother's apron. It was a poor family. When the mother heard the commotion outside, she stuffed the baby back inside her sheepskin cloak. The visitors crammed into the doorway and stood there like a herd of black sheep. The mother got up and invited them in. They were high-ranking monks fromTenpa Monastery. Lama Tsungma, master of rites, headed the group.
Lama Tsungma said, ‘We hear that your child was born nine days ago.‘The mother confirmed that this was true. The monks instantly clasped their hands in prayer and recited from the scriptures. Lama Tsungma dispatched a messenger to report to his
superiors that the new incarnation of the Living Buddha had been found. Then he turned to the mother and said, ‘Is it a boy or a girl? What is her name? Sangsang Dolma? Then from now on she will be called Sangsang Tashi.'
A ceremony was held to celebrate the successful reincarnation of Tenzin Wangdu, and Sangsang Tashi's entire family left their shack and moved into Tenpa Monastery.
At fifteen, Sangsang Tashi completed her study of the Five Major Treatises, and began training in Tibetan medicine at Manrinba College. The college was an hour's walk from the monastery. At first, she was driven there in a horse and cart. But after a few months, she requested to walk to the college by herself. She hoped that the solitary excursions would help clear her mind. Feelings that she couldn't describe had begun to trouble her. Until now, all that she had done during the fifteen years of her life was to study Buddhist scriptures and practise yoga.
The path that led to the college gave her great pleasure, and she often dreamed about it in her sleep. She had, however, walked the first part of it thousands of times before. When she opened the door of her meditation room, there it was: a small stone path that wound downhill between the various
monastic colleges. At the first turning was a high red wall that enclosed the heart of the monastery: a temple devoted to Sakyamuni and the Sixteen Bodhisattvas. Around this wall was a pilgrim track which one old woman had been circling for twenty years, spinning her handheld prayer wheel, praying that in the next life she would be reborn as a man. Sangsang Tashi often passed her on the way down. Whenever she caught sight of Sangsang Tashi, the old woman would throw herself into a prostration and strike her head on the ground.
Opposite the red wall was the large door to the house of the senior disciplinarian. Stray dogs gathered in the yard outside to chase one another or copulate. Further down on the right one could see the road that led to the monastery's main entrance. During the Unveiling of the Buddha Tapestry Festival, the road filled with hordes of pilgrims. At other times, traders pitched their tents along the side of the road and plied their wares. Between their tents and the small brick houses, beggars and itinerant masons built makeshift huts out of loose stones. Sangsang Tashi often went down to the road to buy bracelets and earrings from the Indian merchants.
When she walked to the medical college, Sangsang Tashi would turn left at the monastery gates, then leave the road and cut across fields of maize and
peas. The dwarf willows that lined the path were overgrown with trailing pepperweed. In the morning, the air filled with the scent of wild campions. Sangsang Tashi often stopped on these fields and looked back at the view of Tenpa Monastery. At the top of the monastery compound, halfway up the mountain, was the stone platform on which, during festival time, the Buddha tapestry was displayed. The platform was huge and immaculate. When the wind blew, Sangsang Tashi could hear the prayer flags flapping on the monastery roofs. It sounded as though the cloth were being ripped apart. Hundreds of small shrines hugged the contours of the mountain. Further along the fields, the path crossed a stream that came down from the mountain and flowed into the Nyangchu River that sparkled in the distance.
Whenever Sangsang Tashi walked this path, she forgot that she was a Living Buddha, the reincarnation of Tenzin Wangdu. The scent of the fields intoxicated her. She liked to stand on the wooden bridge above the Nyangchu River and watch the waterweeds swaying in the current. Across the Nyangchu was the medical college, and beyond that lay the bare, desolate mountains.
Tomorrow, Sangsang Tashi would participate in the Ceremony of Empowerment. In this, her final initiation rite, Amitabha, Buddha of Infinite Light,
would remove all greed and anger from her heart, and allow her Buddha Nature to manifest itself at last. It was the first day of autumn, and pilgrims were already coming down from the mountain to prepare for the alms-giving that would follow the Ceremony of Empowerment. Sangsang Tashi had no interest in these events. All she wanted was some time on her own to think things through.
Today she arrived as usual for her master's class in the main hall of the medical college. A corpse lay in the centre of the cavernous room. Today the master was going to discuss the location of the subtle body's winds, channels and drops. This was a subject that was of great interest to Sangsang Tashi. Once the novice monks had placed the corpse on the altar, the master picked up his knife. He cut open the corpse's chest, removed the five organs and six innards, pulled out the heart and pointed to the inner eye. The foul stench made Sangsang Tashi nauseous. Although her head was shaved like everyone else, she was the only woman in the room. Beside her stood Geleg Paljor who, like the other ten or so students, was staring intently at the master. Geleg had received the Kalachakra teachings at Panam Monastery, and had been sent to the college to pursue his studies. Sangsang Tashi always liked to stand next to him during class.
The master told the student monks to close their eyes, concentrate their thoughts and try to look into his mind. After a few minutes, four monks said that they had been able to read the master's thoughts. The master asked Sangsang Tashi what she had seen. She was the youngest student in the class, and the only Living Buddha. She immediately entered into a meditative state, but since she had studied yoga for only six years, her inner eye was still clouded. She chanted a mantra to calm her inner deity and regulate her heart channel, but could not visualise the four drops of her subtle body. She felt a sudden burning sensation in her toes. Gradually, the heat became a ball of fire that rose from her legs to her inner eye. She recited the Om Svabhava Mantra to purify her body and steady her consciousness, and slowly saw the image of a frozen river take shape inside her master's mind. Just as her meditation was about to transport her to the Realm of Light, she saw herself standing naked in this river of ice. She swiftly retreated from her trance and told the master what she had seen.
The master said, ‘The image you saw in my mind is the image that I saw in yours. The eye that sees the future is not the same as the inner eye.' The master picked up his knife again and rammed it into the corpse's skull.
Sangsang Tashi was confused. The master hadn't explained why she had been standing in the ice river. Was that my future? she wondered. The sight of her naked body surprised her. She looked like a
dakini,
the sky-walking goddesses depicted on the religious paintings she stared at every day. At that moment, the master prised out a small piece of cartilage from below the pituitary gland and said, ‘This is the eye of the future. After years of practice, you will be able to use this eye to see the illnesses and evil spirits that hide inside people's bodies. A few minutes ago I saw Sangsang Tashi in the frozen river. This is one of the six sufferings and three austerities she is destined to endure two days from now. But listen to me, Sangsang Tashi – your yogic skills are sufficient for you to keep yourself alive for three days in the ice river without coming to harm.'
Sangsang Tashi felt anxious. The frozen river was far away; she had only ever seen it from the top of a mountain. Although she could sit in the snow for a few days without feeling the cold, she had no idea how it would feel to stand in a frozen river. She thought of the heat she'd felt in her toes a few minutes ago. It hadn't emanated from her own body. She glanced around her and saw a halo of light hovering above Geleg Paljor's head. She smiled at
him. She knew that Geleg's yoga had already surpassed the master's, but that he had chosen not to reveal this to anyone.
The master lifted the piece of cartilage from the corpse and said, ‘This man was ignorant and foolish. He led a muddled, confused life. That's why the cartilage is yellow. If you achieve enlightenment through meditation, your cartilage will become transparent. The Chan, Orthodox and Tantric Buddhist practices all depend on the use of this eye. It alone allows you to see into the Buddha Realm, clarify your vision and discern the pure essence of all things.'
The master dug out the corpse's eye with his knife and pierced it. Observing the turbid liquid that flowed out, he said, ‘The ordinary man sees things through this eye. Because the nature of this eye is clouded, the ordinary man is corrupted by the five poisons and is unable to reach enlightenment.' Sangsang Tashi gazed at the half-dismembered corpse. He was a middle-aged man, with large, white teeth. A swarm of flies hovered above his exposed innards.
 
In the afternoon, Sangsang Tashi sat alone in her room, meditating. She had just visited her sick mother. Over the past months, Sangsang Tashi had tried to cure her mother's illness with the knowledge she had
gained at the medical college, but nothing she'd done had worked. A few weeks ago, she had transferred some of the evil spirits of the disease onto a dog, and the dog had died immediately. But her master had reprimanded her for this. He said that all beings have souls, and that one should think carefully before transferring evil spirits onto other creatures. As she pictured her mother slowly withering away, her mind started to drift once more.
Tomorrow, she would receive her final initiation during the Ceremony of Empowerment. This was the most important ritual the monastery had organised for her since the ceremony that recognised her as a Living Buddha. She preferred not to think about it, though. Over the past days, she had seen the monastic colleges hang new prayer banners in their halls. The long brass horns that had remained in storage for years had been brought out and repaired, and the monks had started practising on them. Every temple was filled with yak butter lamps that were kept alight day and night. Sangsang Tashi continued to stare at the lamp in front of her, but was unable to clear her mind.
She knew that a large ceremonial mandala had been positioned in the centre of the monastery's Meditation Hall. Buddhist figurines and sacrificial offerings, including the washed intestines of the
corpse that she had seen dissected a few hours ago, lay on the main altar. Incense burners had been placed at each corner of the square mandala. In front of the mandala were the hard cushions on which Sangsang Tashi would perform the Union of the Two Bodies Ritual. Below the religious wall paintings, hundreds of yak butter lamps had been placed on bolts of red cloth.
The Ceremony of Empowerment was to be conducted as usual by Labrang Chantso. Sangsang Tashi felt short of breath at the thought that tomorrow she would have to perform the Union of the Two Bodies Ritual with him. She sensed that Labrang Chantso disliked her, and that he hated the thought that his elder brother, Tenzin Wangdu, had been reincarnated in her body. But Labrang Chantso was well versed in the secret doctrines. It was he who had instructed her on the Five Major Treatises, and who had conducted her preliminary vase initiation. Sangsang Tashi pictured Labrang Chantso's face. His forehead was lined with wrinkles which crumpled to the side when he looked up. Large black pupils filled his small narrow eyes. He was a tall and heavy man.
Sangsang Tashi thought of the wall painting in the Meditation Hall that showed Bodhisattva Vajrapani, Wielder of the Thunderbolt Sceptre, locked in sexual
embrace with his female consort. Tomorrow Sangsang Tashi would have to adopt the consort's position and sit on the Bodhisattva's lap, her legs wrapped around his waist.A hot, damp feeling stirred inside her. Labrang Chantso's face flashed before her eyes. His expression was cold and stern.

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