World Shaman: Encountering Ancient Himalayan Spirits in Our Time by Ellen Winner & Mohan Rai

Author:Ellen Winner & Mohan Rai [Winner, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Spiritual & Religion
Publisher: Good Spirits Publishing
Published: 2011-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

MOUNTAIN GUIDE

... Then I came back to Munich again, a week training for rescue and first aids, etc. I along with 28 of young man and womens, we drove to France over Switzerland. We arrived in one and half days to place called Chamonix. Here we had extensive training of climbing on the rock walls and ice walls…._____________________________________

* * *

Mohan spent nine years in the Gurkha Army where his energy and intelligence earned him regular promotions and his ready wit and enjoyment of life won many friends. He left the Army when his friend Kumar invited him to Kathmandu with a promise of work as a driver in his uncle's business.

But first he turned his face toward home. His mother waited in the doorway. She smiled and draped a flower garland on his neck. “Welcome home.” A girl of ten peeked out from behind her skirt. Behind them, a small boy played by the hearth. “That's your little brother Suraj,” she said. “Say namaste to Big Brother Mohan.”

Bringing the palms of his pudgy little hands together, “Na-tay,” the baby said, with a smile of huge delight.

Mohan's father pushed up from the floor with a groan. Standing, he looked stooped, and thinner than Mohan remembered. “Welcome home, my son. We have missed you. Now that you're home, we'll have a big feast. Then I'll show you the cattle we've bought with your money.” His face crinkled up in the well-remembered smile, but the brown of his eyes was dull, the whites yellowed and mapped with tiny lines of red.

“The sick ones always say it's a shame Mohan's not here,” his mother said, bustling to provide him with a cup of chia, the spiced, sugared tea they had not always been able to afford. “Our neighbor, Mrs. Gurung, must have asked me fifty times when you'd be home.”

“Mohan should marry,” an auntie said. “Look at him. Such a fine young man. Any family would be glad to give their daughter.”

While his mother and auntie and sisters cooked, Mohan walked out to the meadow with his childhood friend Sham. “Here is where you saw the Forest Goddess.” Sham pointed to a big, flat rock.

“Those days are gone now.” Mohan ran his hand across the grainy surface of the boulder and sat looking off across the field. For a moment, all was as it had been. The sun burned down and again he saw the beautiful goddess floating toward him over the meadow in her bright red frock. He looked away. “Is my father still healing the people?”

Sham's eyes clouded.

“It doesn't matter,” Mohan said. “I knew it when I saw his face.”

“People don't call him so much anymore, but now that you're home, they will,” Sham said, brightening. “You were his helper before. Now he can be yours.”

Mohan shook his head and grimaced, unable to imagine his father stepping back to the status of helper, carving wands, assembling an altar, lighting incense with his shaking fingers. He was a proud man. “My fate lies elsewhere,” Mohan said.

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