Date: 6/10/2011 9:26:58 AM
Subject: [CASonline] a bird at vesak
|
Date: 6/10/2011 9:26:58 AM
Subject: [CASonline] a bird at vesak |
 Dearest Frens
@ CAS,
By the time you read
this and I have finished typing this, we
would have finished packing our luggages containing
200 odd pens, 80 booklets, sweets, medicated
oils, patches, food and tidbits of many kinds, to
be ready to be heaved off to Phunstok Choling
( CAS's first Dharma centre ) in Malacca, before carrying
on its long aerial journey to Laos, one of the poorest
countries in the world, a place with an average
life expectancy of just 48 years and boasting of the
world's smallest capital.
A holy yogi had pronounced
that it would be beneficial if CAS could do something
over in Laos and so we go.
The most precious Enlightened
Being, HH Kyabje Trulshig Rinpoche, the present Head
of the Nyingma School, is in retreat but we managed
to obtain instructions from this other great yogi:
to go or not to go.
Meanwhile, await our
updates and pray, pray and pray again for the
world, the beings and CAS !!
"Namo Da Yuan Di Zang
Wang Pu Sa !!"
bb & every
breathing creature @ CAS
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 ( a
bird at vesak )
On Vesak Day, a few
beings @ CAS retreated into Kota Tinggi ( where
else ) for a supposed Green Tara retreat which
became, in the end, half completed. This is
all due to a bird which was hooked by its thigh
( the left one & do we call this part of a bird
"thigh" ?? ).
The story begins
like this:
We were all full
of zest and glee, sunshine and hope, that morning
( of Vesak Day ) when we were supposed to do 4 full
sessions of the Four Mandala Offering to Holy Mother
Tara. We had arrived from Singapore the day before. We
trooped out of our little hotel and proceeded
to the wet market where we usually acquired the
creatures whose lives were in danger, of getting
poked, eaten, fried, marinated or seasoned. We ended
up with 2 HUGE bags of more than 30 HUGE crabs.
We, as usual, proceeded to circumambulate them around
holy objects ( such as: the holy sutra of Lord
Kshitigarbha, Denma Locho's & Katok Khenchen's
pics in bb's wallet etc ).
It was all too holy
and happy especially for a wonderful, lovely day
like Vesak.
Long live Lord Buddha
!!
 ( fat juicy
crabs and their big nasty claws )
After the fat, juicy
crabs had been dumped into the raging, frothing
Johor River ( this river had flooded Kota Tinggi
innumerable times, we mean seriously flooded and
inundated civilisation along it ), we rounded
to the supermarket to grab big tins of the purest
oil, to offer to Ven Hai Tao's centre there, the
"Shan Dao" buddhist centre and even the ancient, peeling
Guan Yim temple with its attendant Taoist deities.
We simply could not think of a more auspicious start
to our retreat !!
Then, while we were
crossing the big highway bridge that stretched across
Johor River with literally hundreds upon hundreds
of vehicles, big, small, scary, gigantic, zooming
on it, to get to the town centre, we saw this
tiny little speck hanging, seemingly struggling,
by a thin line from the water pipes, running
parallel to the bridge, carrying water into
Tinggi town !!
My holy Buddha
!! What was that ??!!
We strained our eyes
hard. It was a tiny feathery creature we thought
is a sparrow !!
 ( the struggling
dot of feathers - pic taken from the bridge running
parallel to the water pipes )
Yes, some enterprising
people had been breeding sparrows on abandoned
buildings there for the expensive delicacy
"bird's nest". So Tinggi town has sparrows
gliding and flocking about. This was no surprise.
But our little sparrow here was hooked, apparently to
the end of what seemed to be a fishing line.
It was heaving, struggling, dying, very, very soon
and definitely in an awful lot of pain. You see,
it was trying to fly off but was jerked back
rudely by the line.
We were debating
on what to do. Save it or just pray for it.
After a few short
minutes, we were quite convinced it would soon
die, so why save it ?? It was hanging,
upside down, dreadfully weak and hopeless. Whatever
strength it could muster - making a mad
dash to the skies - was inevitably, soundly
defeated by whatever monstrous that was hooking
it to the line. Since it appeared to be in
such a terrible state and what we felt was
a hopelessly dehydrated state, the impression, no
doubt, due to ourselves getting fried in the
morning sun ( then about 9 plus ), we decided
that the best way would be to shout and yell
mantras at it.
All the mantras we
knew and had learnt from the holy Gurus: Mani, Tara,
Guru Padma, Migtsema, Vairochana, Namgyalma etc
etc .... hey hey. The heavy traffic zooming behind
us must have been blessed silly by this extreme
bombardment of holy syllables, even though we thought
and still think the drivers would probably have
had a very, very scary, indeed, version
from their side: crazy, insane, dangerous lunatics
screaming their lungs out to empty space or to the
Johor River. ( They probably couldn't see the poor
sparrow hanging by the water pipes ).
But, what to do ??
Dignity or apparent self-respect must go in
favour of Bodhicitta. This is the time to show and
apply BODHICITTA: this sole, MOST important thing
that gave birth to all Buddhas of the past,
present and certainly into the future !!
So, we blessed with
our cluster, carpet bombardment of mantras, inflaming
our lungs and when we were satisfied the bird had
been blessed well enough into a blessed rebirth,
we heaved sighs of relief and marched off.
Half-satisfied only, actually, that we had done
what we could have done. Bye, bye bird. Good luck.
Holy Mother cradles you in her beautiful green arms.
We love you.
Nearly 2 hours later,
we returned from these centres, after having been
dragged into lighting a few hundred lamps, sat through
long sessions of chantings of "Gong Tian" ( offering
to the divine heavenly hosts ) which they did on
Vesak Day. We walked on the bridge again and to
our shock, that poor sparrow was still alive !!
Occasionally, it was still flapping its wings, occasionally
attempting to take off to the skies but was again
jerked back roughly by the wicked line. Holy Gawd
!! We had expected it to die and go with Mother
Tara to the Land of Great Bliss 2 hours back !!
Something got to
be done.
We buzzed about with
great disturbance and blamed one another, pretended
to check "MO" ( a Tibetan divination system ) right
there on the bridge: to save or not to save; if
to save, climb on the water pipes and risk dropping
to a certain death into the raging tides below ??
Should we connect at least 2 long bamboo poles
together, attach say a pen knife to their end
and attempt to slice off the evil line ?? But, if
we do so, would little sparrow be too fatigued to
fly and drop into the muddy, murderous waves
below, swallowed up forever ?? What if we use 2
poles, one with the pen knife, the other with a
net ?? What if the poles turned up too heavy and
we fell into the river from their weight ??
CASonline would be closed down almost certainly
as the few key humans running it are all there.
This is too painful a scenario. What if only one
died and the rest got to live, but in awful
sorrow for the rest of their lives ??
Palden Lhamo got
to give us a clear sign. And she did. SAVE IT ....
whatever it takes !!
 ( palden
lhamo - she has spoken )
We clambered to the
end of the water pipes which was resting on
the coastline of Johor River. We thought the best
way would be to climb it. No shoes, just a pen knife.
We would reach down from above the bird and
slice the line off so it would be FREE !! Yes, that
would be the plan. Bodhisattvas !! Then, a
smack. That end was stuffed with an assortment of
rude bushes and poisonous looking flowers. Let's
slash them. No plants would keep us from sliding
across the water pipes to our poor litlle bird.
bb was restrained
by more cautionary hands. There are Malay food stalls
there, eyeing us with extreme suspicion. What
was this group of funny people hovering about
the end point of un-interesting water pipes ?? They
even looked like they wanted to climb on the pipes
!! They must be up to no good. Then, we thought
we could get ourselves dropped into dirty dank
jails with no lawyers to represent us and get us
out !! Who could convince the good men
of the jury that it was our own bloated sense of
BODHICITTA that caused us to slide over
water pipes in a foreign land to rescue a feathery
thing. No, no, no. These men are crazy. Jail. 10
years would do them good. If we did not perish
in Malaysian jails, got pinned by suspicious locals,
we could certainly fall the more than 7 to 8 stories
high height into the river and drown, get eaten
up by hungry fishes or get snapped into tiny, little
pieces by possible fresh water alligators !!
What irony if we were to be set on by the juicy
crabs we had earlier on released !! It would have
been sweet, sweet revenge, wouldn't it ?? What irreverence
to drop us this height into the river. No parachutes,
no bye-bye kisses,
GAWD !!
We were desperate
!!
Let's change our
plans. As we couldn't ask Palden Lhamo directly,
we guessed Palden Lhamo probably meant She wanted
us to hire the boats carrying excited children on
Firefly Tours on the Johor River.
So off we went.
We ran and ran along
the coastline some distance away to where several
gaily painted boats were docked.
"Hello, hello, uncle,
auntie !! 'You ren zai ma ??' ( translated:
any souls around ??!! )"
No answer because
there were no souls onboard.
Second boat, no one.
Third boat, no one. Fourth boat, no boat.
Tara hear our prayers
!!
We suddenly remembered
that Firefly Tours took place only at night when
the sun and the fireflies are out. At this time
of the day, no boats would operate and so forget
about cruising under the the water pipes to pluck
the unfortunate creature to safety. Who thought
of this in the first place ??!!
So we tumbled
off the boats and carried on Grand Plan Three.
We half ran and walked to a shop displaying
bundles of tall bamboo poles. We must have been
a picture of pathetique slime with t-shirts
soaked through, nervous, grinning ( in
futile bid to appear nice, kind, trustable and honest
). That good woman, probably the big boss's daughter,
eyed us through questioning sockets. She didn't
know what to say. Are they for real ?? What !! Bamboo
poles ??!! Err... Pen knife ??!! You
need fat reams of scotch duct tapes ??!! You want
to loan from us ??!! Yes, that is your Singapore
passports. Ok, you want to buy the tapes from me.
Ok, you also want a net. Ok, you need these for
a bird, a bird in distress. Yes, today is Vesak
and we sould all do good. Yes, you people are sweet.
BUT, wait. You are doing this for a bird. A
BIRD !! I could come along if i don't
believe you ?? Well, thanks but no thanks.
Good luck !!
Again, we were off,
back to the water pipes and that bird. A mother
sentient being in distress !!
 ( the alien
stick - at the moment 2-in-1 - whilst awaiting Rikzin's
return with one more )
We connected the
bambood pipes by winding them round and round and
round and round and round with the duct tapes, scared
to death they would disconnect and tumble into the
river. We would then have to explain and pay the woman
and doomed once more our rescue mission. So, we
wound and connected and attached the rusty pen knife
to its end.
OFF !!
The bamboo poles
weighed 2 tons and the bird was getting alarmed
at the alien stick swinging at it, so it struggled
and flew and got jerked back, flew and got jerked
back again and again whilst doing whatever it could
to get away from our rusty blade and swinging pole.
That dumb creature
was killing us !!
Our arms creaked,
our bones creaked, and we swung and swung,
again and again like there was no tomorrow. Things
were not looking good. The poles had reached its
extreme stress point and the the 2 connecting joints
were sagging !! It had to be retracted. So it withdrew
and rested on the bridge. Too short and the bird
too wild. Someone needed to go back to convince
Lady Boss to loan another long pole. The noble being
called James and christened Rikzin Dorje shot up
and went off. The rest of us winced and moaned on
the bridge, the floor was burning and the vehicles
were zooming. bb whipped out his newly-acquired
Blackberry and thought to snap some pics while
awaiting Rikzin's return so he could send and boast
of CAS's heroism. Yes, frens @ CAS could
rejoice and partake of the merit and we would
then attain liberation together !!
Either idealism lives, stupidity
lives, neither or both.
So, you could see
the attached pics of that bird which destroyed our
Tara retreat. Nearly 2 hours had passed. We
had missed our second session and we were eating
into the time slot of our third session.
Demons !!
As we got baked and
fried on the bridge, mumbling mantras and prayers
to little baby, Rikzin returned with another pole
and more duct tapes !!
Wait no more. We
connected the third pole and swang it out. The huddreds
of vehicles behind us had been witness to our crazy
antics andf thankfully, they were just flitting
across and we were hoping they would:
a) see nothing
b) thought we were
just celebrating vesak
c) think they had
been thirsty and this had been bad for their brains
Our arms were DANGEROUSLY
sore and blisters were getting squeezed out
of our plams. Poor bb's hands which used to spank
off Tchaikovsky's piano concertos and countless
etudes and sonatas were giving way. 3 poles joined
ARE heavy, very, very heavy !! Why did we have to
do this ??!! This is Vesak !!
Rikzin and the rest
would not have it. The bird must be saved.
It had grown
even more determined to get away from our holy
stick. The second assault of the alien stick
had resumed. Wings were flapped even more wildly
and every possible attempt must be done to get away
from the sitck !!
Amidst mantras, curses could
be heard escaping the not-completely-holy lips
of that unworthy being called bb as he was deeply
resentful of the bird's stupidity and ingratitude.
"XXX !! Stop flying
idiot !! Idiot !! Sh ...t !! Stupid bird !!
D ... mn bird !!"
ARRGGH !!!!!
bb slipped his burning
hands off the 3-poles-connected-into-one and fell,
despaired, miserable and torn apart on the boiling
pavement. This could not be done. This is the bird's
karma. We could light lamps for it at Dharamsala,
at Drepung's new hall, in Rinpoche's room. No way,
no way, my fingers are coming off and i am dying
with the bird. My heart is failing and my hairs
are slipping off my scalp !!
That noble being
called Rikzin picked up the 3-poles-connected-into-one,
however, and swang one more time, chanting the GREAT
MANTRA od the NOBLE LORD CHENREZIG: OM MANI PEMAY
HUNG OM MANI PEMAY HUNG OM MANI PEMAY HUNG OM
MANI ..... and his pen knife caught the bird !!
Like magic, the bird
was tolled back by his solitary pair of arms and
was now hung ( unfortunately ) still by that evil
line but, this time, on the pavement on
the sides of the bridge !!
 ( the bad
bird hooked but rescued )
Chenrezig has saved
the bird !!
Holy Tara has saved
the bird !!
Palden Lhamo has
saved the bird and more technically, Rikzin's
arms had caught the bird !!
Long-live all the
above !!
We descended
upon it and started assessing the damage. A
circular hook had curved right into the bird's "thigh".
When we use the word "curve", we mean "curve",
really "curved" into its thigh !!
We twirled, twisted
and squeezed the offensive hook while the bird pecked
at our hands which were grabbing its wings. The
other pairs of hands were tweaking the hook and
they were pecked upon like machine guns !!
Hell hath no fury a bird offended !!
We tweaked and turned
and exchanged roles a few times and with the Buddhas'
blessings, we tweaked out the insidious hook and
the bird suddenly stopped and stared at us with
red eyes. Was it tearing out of pain, relief and
maybe, its eyes were simply born red.
When we let go of
our hands, the bird hobbled off onto the rough pavement,
then took off into the fair blue sky.
We wept when
it flew off.
Bye-bye bird.
We are sure you will
be a bird no more in your next life because you
have heard and been blessed by Namgyalma mantras,
Medicine Buddha mantras, however imperfect
the tongues and lungs which produced them.
om tare tuttare ture
soha !!
We love you tara,
we love you, bird.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Listen to
Tara:
_______________________________________________________________
 ( Holy
Mother - oh, so full of grace and blessings !!
)
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
p/s: Till this day,
we have not managed to speculate on a convincing
explanation of how birdie got hooked in the first
place. Maybe, one day, when we meet it again,
we will ask.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Coming attractions:
"The Translator
Saga"
____________
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