At the Silk Route, Bhuvan finds a message marked in yellow that
has these lines.
What’s the treasure that you want?
What you shall have and others can’t?
O seeker, for you does fortune wait
Your deepest yearning will it sate
Atop the hallowed black rock mountain,
The guru’s name chants a holy fountain
Blessed water shall forge your Karma true
To make you ready for your gift in blue.
After that-
The next destination it seems, is the Black rock mountain. The
message again talks about some fortune that will satisfy Bhuvan’s deepest
yearnings.
“What can that be? Right now what I need most is an inverter motor
for the science project.”
But there’s plenty of time
to think about that. Presently the treasure or fortune, whatever it is, is not
important. Bhuvan is actually high on the challenge of the quest.
Quickly he goes through the verses a couple of times. The Black
rock mountain is a hill with a Tibetan Mahayana Buddhist monastery at its
summit. The ‘holy fountain’ must definitely refer to the natural spring that
falls on the way to the Norbulingka monastery. The water from the spring is
conveyed using wooden channels to the foot of a huge Buddhist prayer wheel. The
impact of the falling water turns the prayer wheel and the mantras written on
it are spread into the universe for the benefit of all the human beings. The
water that comes out from the foot of the prayer wheel is considered blest. So
this message is instructing him to drink the blessed water and receive the next
clue, which may be indicated by something of blue color.
Without further ado, Bhuvan sets out for the Black rock mountain. He
has to get back on to the tar road, follow it for a couple of miles and then
get off it at the foot of the Black rock. The only way up the hill is a mule
track that is used by the monks to carry all their supplies to the monastery.
Bhuvan breaks into a slow run after reaching the main road. In less than twenty
minutes he is at the base of the Black rock mountain. After catching his breath
for a couple of minutes, he starts climbing the mule track. The mule track is
narrow and at places treacherous, but Bhuvan has negotiated it numerous times
before; he knows each and every curve on it. A half hour climb brings him to a
wide natural landing. To the right is the giant prayer wheel and behind it, a
short way up the slope is the natural spring.
There’s a small Chhorten at the
edge of the landing, to the left. Tired from his exertion, he tosses his
satchel and plops on to the ground with his back to the chhorten, looking down
at the valley below. Even in all his tiredness, he cannot resist admiring the
spectacular view in front of him. The entire valley is laid out before him. The
pristine water of the Mochhu is sparkling in the morning sunlight. The terraced
hills all around the valley are planted with paddy. Paddy dominates the valley
floor as well. Light and dark green waves form as the breeze passes over the
paddy fields. The song of the valley cannot be heard up here. The only sounds
here are those of the wind whistling through the pine needles and the regular
tolling of the tiny bell attached to the prayer wheel. Each time the bell
tolls, it signifies one complete rotation of the prayer wheel.
Thus rested, Bhuvan gets up and walks to the prayer wheel. He
takes the blessed water between his palms and drinks from it. He sprinkles some
of it on his face and head. Then he turns around.
“Good Lord! How is this possible?”
Shell shocked, he feels a chill run down his spine. Right where he
was sitting few moments ago, a blue silk scarf is fluttering in the wind.
Instantly Bhuvan runs in one direction, for some distance on the mule track and
then on the other side. But he could see no one leaving the landing. Shaken by
this spooky incident, Bhuvan fearfully goes closer to the chhorten to inspect.
A carefully constructed cairn is placed on one end of the blue scarf, and there
is a blue envelope placed under one of the rocks. Swiftly he pries out the
envelope and takes out a folded piece of handmade paper from within. Verses
again;
Through all your efforts you ensure
Your heart’s desire, one that’s pure
The treasure that, for you is meant
Smolders within thoughts deepest pent
Your heart of gold shall fetch the prize
Like a phoenix born, so you shall rise.
Upon the hill where the lone pine stands,
Is the purple patch your soul demands.
This is a story written in five parts. For going on to Part II, click on the link - The Silk Route
For Part I - Daydreamer
For Part IV - The Lonely Pine
For Part V - The Treasure At Last
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