The Handsome Monk and Other Stories by Tsering Dondrup

The Handsome Monk and Other Stories by Tsering Dondrup

Author:Tsering Dondrup
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Columbia University Press


* * *

1. Alak Drong’s long verse was originally written using a version of “alphabet poetry” (ka rtsom), in which the first two lines each start with A, the next two lines with B, and so forth. The translator has omitted this convention in order to retain the meaning of the verse.

5

ONE MANI

ONE

Just as the bedridden Gendün Dargyé was calmly reciting his ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-ninth mani he was struck by a sudden, intense pain, and without even having a moment to realize it, he was taken into the next life. At around the same time, Gendün Dargyé’s sole sworn brother, Tsering Samdrup, had the sensation that he wasn’t long for this world, and, folding his hands over his heart, murmured, “May the six classes of sentient beings that have been our mothers attain liberation and reach the level of omniscience. I pray that humanity may have equality, freedom, and peace. Om mani padme hum,” immediately after which he drifted off as if into a peaceful sleep and set out on the narrow path to the netherworld.

Among the teeming throng of tens of thousands of transiting souls, Gendün Dargyé and Tsering Samdrup were reunited.

“Haha! It’s really true what they say—even in the afterlife sworn brothers will be brought together.” Tsering Samdrup, grinning broadly and looking completely carefree, approached Gendün Dargyé and grasped his hand, just like he used to when they were still in the land of the living. But Gendün Dargyé simply stood there expressionless, his face drained of all color, shaking his head.

“What’s the matter, my brother?” asked Tsering Samdrup as he put his arm around Gendün Dargyé and helped him to the side of the road.

Gendün Dargyé continued to shake his head sorrowfully. “A shame … what a shame, I … I must be cursed,” he said finally, now on the verge of tears.

“Ah ho, my brother, what on earth has happened to you?”

“Don’t they say that if you recite one hundred million manis you’re sure to go to the Blissful Realm?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what they say. Why?”

“Eh,” he said, sighing, “do you know how many manis I did?”

“You’re always reciting your manis, aren’t you? You’ve done a lot by now, I’d guess, maybe even a hundred million. You should be happy!”

“Eh,” he said, sighing again, “let me tell you: I recited ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine manis—I was short of a hundred million by just one. You tell me, do I have bad karma or what?”

“Hahahaha! So that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Yes! It’s no laughing matter.”

“In that case, you can set your mind at ease.”

“?”

“Well, as you know, I pretty much wasted my life away goofing around. I was never able to save up any money, and I never did any chanting or spiritual practices either. But, just before I died, I recited one mani. I’ll give you that mani.”

“Wh … what? Did I hear that right? Say that one more time.”

“I’m giving you my only mani.



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