Valley of Flowers Page 3

  I cannot think of such an act, Nicolas told himself. To say I would even consider playing here is really quite scandalous and perhaps subject to libel.

  Nicolas felt sure hitting into these bands of colorful sharp dressers was not one of his options. He wished to escape from this high place. He had the urge to retire to a life of quiet contemplation.

  Nicolas stepped up ways to do away with this situation. In a repeated message he told himself, and rather angrily this time, Just end this thing and head back!

  He wondered next how it might be to send his drive into this colorful perfumed lot. No, he thought. Hitting into this flower valley, which seemed to accept gladly all that came its way, was something I cannot see myself doing. And he discarded the notion wholesale.

  There is only one choice to make, he told himself steady and sure. The choice is either to enter and begin play here or do not at all.

  One plan stood out prominently in his mind. It was to give an apology to this good teacher, leave here quietly and be back home at the earliest. This was acted out first inside his head. But then, without thinking more of it, he openly said so. He looked to Arjuna and told him plainly.

  "I'm sorry if you have been inconvenienced. But I object to this." And for a split moment all action escaped him.

  Nicolas looked to the many-flowered valley. The sight of ripe immortal peace in his path overwhelmed him with grief. He experienced a crisis in his own citizenship here.

  Nicolas Kumar, son of a thoughtful scholar but chemist by profession, possessing a blameless character, lifted his eyes to the silvered heights for guidance. All came to a standstill for him then as no help seemed forthcoming.

  He stood feeling coltish. Nicolas wondered what more he might do. Piously inside he heard a lot of cants. No hope pressed.

  One thing Nicolas knew he could do was put up a brave front in the face of this big playing meltdown. Inside his heart ached.

  How can fate be so unkind? he thought.

  Again he looked mournfully out at the Valley of Flowers. He sank down then, as if time and space had both collapsed. His back he held erect. The heel of his right foot pressed firm at the base of his spine and he said, "I will not."

  5

  Nicolas sat planted as a seed or sapling. In perfect silence he stayed still there, not moving and also not doing.

  By changing the form of a crucial verb, Nicolas, stricken, knew he had undertaken his firmest reservations here. He felt at the core of some supreme righteousness. He made believe too he was calm and not that wounded. He planned to stay where he was, sitting there doing not much. He appeared ready for a good long fight ahead.

  In demonstrating this asan from classical yoga, Nicolas attempted next to not have one thought-desire.

  He set his mind for some compressed repair. Nicolas closed his eyes. To any who happened by, he was glad he would appear as one who is holy, an astute guru in his own right, unraveling the immense mysteries of the vast universe. He entertained the idea of staying this way for all time. He felt he could stage this strike or dharna until hell froze him over. This could come in just a few months’ time, he quickly figured out, by the onset of an early winter.

  A fresh moment passed where otherwise he might have been up and doing. Lid-blinded he stared into dark chaos.

  Nicolas felt the urge to act. He moved his forearms down onto his knees. His forefingers and thumbs touched to form a pair of neat circles. In this way he struck a near-perfect pose of achieved bliss or perceived blessed joyousness.

  He got more settled. Nicolas hoped to show his nobleness more. He sensed the flowers come in close and he opened his eyes. The flowers looked as if they wished to thank him and to somehow aid him. They appeared to move in closer.

  Nicolas sat feeling loved, surrounded by these visitors. He imagined they were grateful for what he was now doing for them individually, as well as for the community as a whole.

  The pulsating sea of flowers came in crushingly close then to try and compress him. He next imagined them showing a more friendlier What's up? attitude towards him.

  Nicolas sensed the flowers turn angrily west at him. They appeared to him as any large crowd on a railway platform. He made believe they were gathering expectantly for their final shuffle, sudden rush, push and hard shove, towards the one exhibiting the awe-inspiring bright light.

  He then created a sense that railway police officers were present. Nicolas had the coppers take up positions over all in the valley. He had them holding up their lathis, or baton weapons to be used on the flowers if needed.

  Nicolas gave his attention next to these mountain pillars. They stood as giant law-keepers over all in the valley. The Indian Himalayas outlined strikingly the area's terrain that bordered on rich decadence. He was unhappy then with the breeze coming in which no player worth his salt could ever really trust.

  An electrifying charge permeated the chilly atmosphere. Nicolas again took refuge in his mind. He militated more against playing up here. He considered a fast-unto-death.

  He cited under his breath, Nobody can dictate terms to me, recent qualifier of the Open Championship, not even this good teacher, learned as he appears to be.

  Nicolas pondered this until realization surely thumped him that he was indeed being made to play into these flowers.

  He said aloud and defiantly, "No, I can’t possibly. I cannot soil my hands by striking out at those near and dear to me."

  "And by pause do you defend your position any better in this world," said Arjuna. "By not striking out and entering this fray," he added, "do you—"

  "Yes, but this is not a fair way!" erupted Nicolas, sensing no scope for mercy. He said to himself, What could Father and this good fellow have been thinking? May God bless all such people with some sense.

  "I cannot say what is fair and not right," the old man said in an even, modest tone. "Maybe seeing things just and so is, yes, unfair. Wouldn’t you say that good and bad traverse this course together? Perhaps you are more accustomed to fairways made from Benares silk. No doubt I am behind the times, but may I call you sweet?" Then in a more serious manner he added, "Now is the time, dear Nicolas, for you to convert this place into your own fair way virtue and exhibition ground, as it is all experience anyway."

  "But I do not want this freedom!" cried Nicolas, stating this at some volume. "Give me the tried and true knowing most everyone enjoys, as I have no desire to change anyone. I have only to adjust for them and things will be made right."

  Nicolas went quiet. But then he added, "Have you not been telling me since we began all are kin?"

  And in his grief more sorrowful words came from him.

  With tenderness from a kind heart the old man listened. His gentle consideration of the youth, the luckless warrior here, sympathetically understood his grief to be much like his own when he was young and in the company of his exalted teacher.

  At that long ago time, when shockingly pitted against his cousins, the old man remembered how he had undergone his own power crisis.

  Nicolas had the idea now that nothing could lift him above his current state of demurral. He thought that no one need advise him. As the battlelines had been clearly drawn, it occurred to him that not even a police lathi-charge could get him to start his play here.

  At this time, the challenge-busting feeling sat inside him as a yogi in near-perfect posture.

  Nicolas looked to his clubs sadly. They remained standing by and idle. This put him in a more fouler, brooding mood.

  His sad eyes sought Arjuna’s. His eyes looked as one on the verge of filing a mercy plea. But excusing this youth, by giving him some sympathy waiver, was not at all what this good teacher was willing to do. And Nicolas saw that.

  Tension gripped. The feeling of no intention ruled him.

  Nicolas remained seated in this magnificent outdoor space. He carried on making remarks in his mind. This produced yet another good start for more mental agitation.

  Will you be the offender or th
e offended? Nicolas asked his self. No, he answered and his gloom darkened. And while using his guile he added, "I will be neither the offender nor the offended."

  6

  Nicolas showed his firm intention. He had a look on his face that reached this elder soft as a baby’s touch, and the message was that he, Nicolas Kumar, the Unbegun, would be spending an infinite amount of chill time at this spot.

  Arjuna smiled. He knew the difficulty in understanding this high philosophy. The old man was not upset, nor was he at all troubled by this refusal. He felt gratified only thinking mildly, This is the way it is.

  The old man eased back in his mind. His eyes went more remote. He returned to his own formative years. He threw more light onto his distant playing past.

  The one with the lifelong adolescent smile had returned to his earlier playing self. He was again in the company of his exalted teacher. This guide stood all but solidly beside him plain as day. His life tutor was instructing him then in the most high-ranking way. And the message was he must go out into this world to perform.

  The old man came back to the valley when he felt more in favor of fighting today’s battles than yesterday’s. All was not lost, however, as Arjuna had brought back with him one nugget of advice.

  "Hardest of all and by a long shot," he said, "is the going out after the battle, to carry on correctly, while struggling to live daily by these high ideals, and not fall back too often."

  Arjuna wished to press on hard now. He sought to give his youth-rendered philosophics a more serious twirl.

  "There are no graves here," he said. "Eliminate this first mistake. Take time to understand this, and years may not do, but come to know its verity. Remember, all alive will live always and never have you not been, and nature, while rewarding action, allots little to indifference."

  The old man went quiet. He appeared to be formulating what next to say. Then he was back at it, instructing in the fine art of enlightening.

  "Now is the time for you to show your great talents," the old man said, "being as they are reputed, and to discover a true happiness that is already yours. You are young. Know inexperience as opportunity and nothing to fear. So think well here, dear Nicolas. Come up in life and not down in spirit as performing task is your great instinct."

  Nicolas Kumar refused to budge. Without hint of tiredness or perceived disappointment, Arjuna contentedly continued.

  "Nothing can be achieved without drive," he said. "And fairest best is the achiever. With your ambition, exciting changes will happen now to you. So do act, Nicolas, if it wills you. Remember, on this day along with most others there is need for action."

  Nicolas lifted his eyes to the soaring Indian Himalayas. He thought little of Arjuna’s words. He felt pushed into this brooding mood. He then began hatching a marvelous plan.

  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."