An excerpt from "Apprenticed to a Himalayan Master" by Sri M

An excerpt from Apprenticed to a Himalayan Master by Sri M

 

 

 

 

One day, just after meditation and breakfast, Babaji sprung a surprise.

 

“Today, you have no fixed schedule,” he said, “You can wander around as you please. Perhaps you would like to walk up the hills and explore the caves? Just make sure you are back before dark, okay?”

 

There was nothing I liked better than trekking and exploring unknown territories. I set out, taking only my water pot and walking stick. I climbed up the steep and narrow path that I had seen Babaji go up one or two occasions. After a while, the climb became quite tough, and it had become very cold. To add to that, it started drizzling and then snowing lightly.

 

On either side of the path, there were a few natural caves. Babaji had warned me that the Himalayan bear would sometimes be found living in these caves. So when I heard a kind of humming, murmuring sound coming from one of the caves, I was gripped with fear and froze. Then I smelled incense that seemed to come from the cave.

 

Cautiously, trembling with excitement, I crept towards the mouth and into the cave. In a minute, my eyes got accustomed to the dim light that was coming from a small fire, burning in a deep pit, at the far end of the cave. Facing the fire, sat a bare-bodied figure who seemed to be throwing incense into the fire and chanting something that I could not understand, in a droning tone. I quietly sat down at a distance, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence, for I was sure he was aware of my entry.

 

After a while, he turned in my direction and gestured to me to come closer. I moved closer to the fire. Now, I could see his face clearly. It was a wrinkled and weather-beaten old face of Mongolian origin. A few gray strands of hair formed his beard and thin moustache, and he was totally bald. I guessed that he was a Buddhist monk of some sort. Surprisingly, he spoke haltingly in English. His voice was rough and sounded more like a croak. “Greetings,” he said with folded hands, “May the Buddha, Avalokatishwara bestow his blessings on you.” I prostrated before him and explained who I was and why I was there.

 

“I know, I know,” he said, “I know your Babaji. We meet often. I am a wandering Tibetan yogi belonging to the Kargyupa sect of the great yogi Milarepa. Milarepa means cotton clad. We wear only a small cotton loin cloth even in the severest of winters.”

 

“What were you chanting Sir, and how do you know English?”

 

“I shall not answer your second question. You will come to know eventually.  As for the first, I was chanting the Buddhist mantra Om Mani Padme Huumm.”

 

“May I ask you, Sir, how you manage to remain bare-bodied even in the height of winter? Even Babaji is like you.”

 

“I will explain, child. We, who belong to the lineage of Milarepa, practice a breathing technique, combined with visualization, called Thummo. This builds up the heat of the inner fire at  the navel centre, the Manipura, and spreads it throughout the body. If you will notice, I am sweating profusely. That is because of the internal heat. Some of the yogis can dry wet sheets of cloth, wrapped around their backs, in minutes, even in winter.”

 

“The Manipura is the same centre where the fire touched you yesterday. If, and when necessary, your Babaji will teach you a technique similar to Thummo which he practices.”

 

“Wait a minute!” I said, “How do you know about the fire touching my navel. Babaji has not left my side since that incident, unless of course he slipped off during the night while I slept, and discussed this matter with you. I don’t think so myself…”

 

“Child, we posses means of communications which most people do not know of, and they are not mysterious. When the mind becomes tranquil and acquires the power of one-pointed attention, it is possible to exchange thoughts. Now, because I have said this, please do not get hoodwinked by advertisements in magazines and newspapers purporting to teach telepathy for a fee. It is all nonsense. The real thing is not so easy.”

 

“Two more questions Sir, if I may?” I said.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Some books say that hidden away in certain parts of Tibet, there are remains of old extraterrestrial civilizations, is that true? Secondly, does the Yeti, the abominable snowman, really exist? Have you seen one?”

 

“To the first question,” said the Tibetan yogi, “yes, there are such places, and I have myself seen such a cave in an almost inaccessible part of Tibet. There, I have seen, well-preserved bodies of small built humanoids, with skulls larger than ours, and a dark almost grayish complexion. However, we believe that they are an ancient race from the earth itself, and not from some other planet or galaxy. Our teachers say that this particular race was destroyed by a war between two rival civilizations that had both evolved to great heights intellectually, and ignored the feelings of love and compassion totally. The way our present civilization is progressing, one wonders what fate awaits us.

 

Now, regarding the Yeti – well, it exists, although many reported sightings may be false. On the ancient route to Kailash from Badrinath, across the Mana pass which is now almost never used, there exists an old Buddhist monastery called Tholingmutt on the Tibetan side. In the caves not far from the Tholingmutt, some Lamas have sighted the Yeti even recently. I have seen one myself. Ask Babaji if he could take you to Tholingmutt or even to Kailash. He is quite familiar with the route, and has been there many times. Maybe you will see a Yeti too.”

 

 



 

Cheers

zilebi