Valley of Flowers (5 page)

When Nicolas had more or
less
worked
it out, he shot back with
more lip sympathy.

"
I am aware of this yet my troubles are not ended. The ball is
tiny, and from my view the target is minute and far off. Can we not
just bypass this colorful patch?
"

No answer came. A long pause between the two
ensued. The talking break seemed to chill even the quite cool
air.

Nicolas planned to say not one thing more.
He told himself it would not be him who spoke first. But then he
did so.

"
Is it not preferable to forgo play here than to harm these
many flowers?" he said. "Why must I hit into this trouble? What is
the purpose served in using this brute force? How could this
possibly lead me to get better?
"

He surveyed a cruel landscape. In an
ultimate do-nothing show, he then held his breath that lasted
upwards of half a minute. Nicolas discovered this one life
responsibility was most difficult to deny.

With relief he started in again with the
activity known as simple breathing.

For a time Arjuna remained
silent. He needed this break, between added talk, to think up ways
to answer the youth
’s
many posed questions. He wanted
to reassess his approach also, along with his tone. Once the old
man had
figured
it out
,
he
returned to instructing though more gently.

"
Dear Nicolas
"
he said.
"
Shake off halfheartedness and do the needful. The feeling of
enjoy for you wants to go in: in study, in work, in society from
which you take and give back. Go into your faith as well, as you go
into these high hills stuffed to capacity with outstanding history.
Go into this happy-sad world and find your way to create. It will
not come to you naturally. This burden comes to you as a blessing
as well as a curse. And the meaning of enjoy is to go out into this
world to create and give back joyfully, for yourself and for
others, along with for All That Is.
"

Throughout, Nicolas sat with his head
downcast. At this time the thought of not playing weighed on him.
When he felt sure Arjuna was done speaking, he looked up from his
sorry low position. Nicolas affixed sad eyes on this teacher.

"
Is it that I am afraid?
"
he said.

"
It is not only this,
"
answered Arjuna, continuing in his limitless
compassion.
"
What
is more you have done well in this form science. But science is a
friendly shepherd dog wearing spiked collar to discourage hungry,
truth-seeking leopards. My thinking is this way anyway.
What
’s
more are fear’s opposites, love
and truth. Science is not love, can it then be truth? Truth is we
have life. That is truth. And truth is we will die. The voice will
not. The soul and the voice are the same to me. They have a kind of
vibration. So when you are talking the voice leaves the body in the
shape of the breath. And it is all there: your thoughts, what you
have been doing, and what you say. That is why it is important to
take good care of the words you use because they are you. Of course
truth too is this: the equal equation of saying and doing and all
you have been thinking.
"

The old man went quiet. He
allowed a moment to pass in absolute silence. Then he said,
"
What
’s
in
your past is done now. Your previous thoughts, your words and
actions, all have a life of their own, so you may leave them there
or visit sometime as you wish.
"

Feeling hemmed in, Nicolas looked away from
this good teacher. His mind went on another rampage. He still had
serious suspicions over playing here. His eyes searched all round
as any cornered animal's. He looked to the blue skies for what he
held sacred. Quiet in him returned.

Nicolas put together his palms at the chest.
He mumbled an oft-recited prayer. He hoped this act of penance
might get stamped as recorded in the afterworld, for use in his
future help.

"
Sending this prayer into the world is well and
good,
"
said
Arjuna, jumping in at another opportunity to inform.
"
But do you have the
expectation something will be done by it?
"

The youth's mood brightened. His sagging
spirits rose to new heights. As he had a ready-steady answer for
this, his feelings achieved uplift. His thoughts too changed for
the better. He felt his future few remarks could rehabilitate
him.

Nicolas got even more keyed up. It felt like
cheer time.

The human heart is made up of human flesh,
he recited inside as preparation. And prayer is what the mind makes
up, which comes from the heart.

Nicolas considered this while remaining
still seated. He felt certain his forthcoming explanation would
bring him back from this hard edge. He believed his future comments
may grant him full recovery.

Due to his teacher’s words, Nicolas seemed
set again to soar. His only giveaway was a crafty, sly smile that
was almost indiscernible.

Nicolas
Kumar
paused as if deep in thought. He
shared this moment with God. Then, in a tick, as if he could not
hold it in any longer, he was ready to pounce back with the correct
quote.

"
Well, I do,
"
he said, attempting to hide his glee.
"
While I do not pray for someone to
save me, I hope the Goddess Mother would see me as sincere and reap
blessings, yes.
"

"
Hope is a vanity,
"
said Arjuna, admonishing the youth gently for his
earnest appeal.

A moment of some silence stood squarely
between them as an eerie phantom. Tension rose.

In the core of this, Arjuna wished to change
the subject. He thought to say a pleasant morning walk, or taking
regular exercise, was better than accepting the best help from some
one other, meaning mostly himself.

Still he remained quiet.
M
ore
time
passed before Arjuna set out to break the
disturbing calm.

"
Used as expectation,
"
he said,
"
hope becomes a mode only for
spiritual ignorance, clouding what is otherwise a clear-blue
sky.
"

Nicolas looked to the sky described. He
gazed next at this fantastic bowl of land that was cushion-like. He
peered out at the valley lit ablaze with bright color.

Nicolas
felt dazed
and deflated
. He
seemed under the spell of harsh diseases. With no
sign yet of correct culture to guide him, his heart sank
more.
He appeared at sea over what to do next.

But
then
he
did do
something. Abruptly
Nicolas
stood up from his throne. The new entrant to
this
flowerful
arena
stepped off the tee
block
square
without
uttering
a
word.
He strode down
to the water. He
w
alked
briskly as well as forthrightly
down
to the
fast-flowing
stream.
He appeared ready to fight. He
had
on
a look of defiance
in
performing some
duty.

7

At the water’s edge
he
saw a small signboard. It was bolted to a
vile
stake stuck
firmly
, though savagely
in
to
the given
green
ground
, as if on the front lawn of someone’s
placid-looking home reading
:
Test your manhood some other
way than by shooting at harmless birds, plants and animals!

The 17-year-old, with not much hope left,
bent down at the limited unclaimed property, or slight clearing by
the blue stream and kept on edge.

The school-going teenager was then on his
knees in the peculiar palms' pose that had him looking like one
large animal the sign had just cautioned.

From this brute-beast position, living life
would be only to find prey, breed, and settle down out here
somewhere for the nights.

After the swift parking of his hands, onto
the grassy floor, Nicolas went forward as far as he could without
tumbling in. He leaned over where there was a meditative pool of
water to look into. On arrival at this auspicious place, he was
nearly prostrate before settling back some.

He
took one long look at the being
floating directly beneath him. It lay face up in the shallows. It
immediately sent back its side of the picture: an effigy on the
spot.

Laid bare to him
there
,
appearing
to await
its
full
embrace
,
w
a
s his
ghostly darker twin for which he had a twinge of dislike. Curiously
he saw himself as a threat. But then the look
on
his face grew into an
ever-widening gyro
,
from a dropped bead of sweat off his brow.

The water
picture
appeared to seek
out wildly
then
a
spot far from this center. It looked to be fleeing in fear for
its
own individual
safety.
It
returned to being a nourishing fluidity at ease.

Nicolas reflected well upon his beauty self.
He gazed at this personality down in the water that was not an
uncommon affair. He volunteered more to take a long learning look
to determine its genuineness.

The pooling water became a stall only for
his undemanding preening needs.

Soon after the meeting of the I's, he
reached in to take a sip from this mountain stream and supreme
beverage of choice to anyone. Nicolas put in his big dippers as if
offering hard cash at the temple to ensure the best result. He
watched the water cram onto his hands in an apparent bid to make
its own surreptitious escape.

He looked to the stream's center. Nicolas
felt the water was a lot like him at this time: preferring lower
places as being far more appropriate.

He perceived a host of wildflowers on the
other side of the stream. They appeared wrapped in bundles as for
making him commendable gifts. The variety of flowers on that far
side made for a less pleasing sensation.

Again,
he
gazed down at the water where like
splendor had been written. He was absorbed by this, his
gorgeousness self, or fave hero in apparent good health, depicted
just then at a sort of side profile. He smiled. Nicolas looked away
from his own eyes as if unable to bear modeling more.

At next glance, the familiar image or case
of ego clash appeared oddly to calm him. He moved to take a superb
drink. He reached in again with cupped hands to touch the most
startling texture ever.

His mind wandered more. His thoughts went
from the terrible task of performing up here. He fled from thinking
of playing on this high course, for the simple reason that it
could.

Nicolas tried concentrating on the water. He
discovered as from out of the blue he was no longer eager to resist
more. This new look seemed supported by a sky-on-blue riding
pillion. The water did not suggest any option for him, other than
to go on and start his play here. He considered again the eternal
question of getting out there and performing. Relating to this
sensation, greater intensity crept.

Now he thought it was not
too
un
reasonable to step
onto this flower community. He felt all might be okay. Then, in
another attempt at prolonging, the words
"
Be professional and
polite
"
came to
bless and pass by his lips.

He mustered courage then stood up.

Back on the ground, after multiple stares
down in the water, along with staring down his own myths, the
bottoms of his feet stamped down hard all calls over leaving here,
and for a brief moment he lost all interest in this place: the
ongoing coordination from all in the outdoors, seemingly hell-bent
on grinding at him in bombastic opposition.

Nicolas returned from this distance a
species standing. He was a pulsating upright form now walking,
though with the renewed powers of reasoning.

The youth or undertrial, his mind back in
the active state and feeling charged now, ruled out all calls for
reassessing. He scanned the flowers of sizable number. He estimated
their near-total destruction.