The Mystery of the Kailash Trail

Book Two Bharat Bhushan

The Mystery of the Kailash Trail

Book Two Bharat Bhushan
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronics or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. This is not a publication. This is a pre-publication draft manuscript of a proposed book and is being distributed for editing, comments, critics and suggestions. The distribution is within a limited group of experts, resource persons, people who are familiar with the Kailash region in Tibet, the aspects of the pilgrimage in the various religions and those who are interested in the aspects of development of a story. Those who receive this pre-publication draft manuscript may forward it those who may be able to contribute to the editing and development of the story. There will be errors, mistakes and contextual wrongs galore. Please do not hesitate to point them out and inform the author at bharatbhushan@yahoo.com

About the book

The oldest mystery known to the Oriental World. It is said that nobody dares to venture out to walk on the Kailash Mountain. And it is also said that those who walked up the mountain, never returned. In all these centuries, they have gone within, never to return.

About the author

Bharat Bhushan Environment Scientist, Ornithologist. Birder, Birdwatcher, Teacher, Trainer. Eclectic and Serendipitous Vagrant Traveller. On land, through books, inside the internet, and deep within the mind.

VI

They were getting to be tired and desperate as the shadows of dusk started taking over the valley. The mountains surrounding this particular spot were quite high and dusk would probably be totally in control much before it would take over the Dirapuk or Choku areas, thought Sangye. He kept looking for the entrance and began to accept the fact that they may not be able to spot it in time before the darkness would prevent any further discovery. At a gesture from him, and knowing what he would be thinking, Yeshe and Norbu accompanied him to the animals and began to unload the supplies. They would have to establish a shelter fast enough before it would be too cold to move around. There was sufficient shelter here to take support from the rock walls and the huge boulders that had fallen close enough. The shelter could come up within the spaces between the rock walls and the boulders and could also allow for the animals to rest inside. Dawa began to collect dry twigs, branches and material to get a fire going inside the group of boulders that they had chosen. The mastiffs were moving around quietly and seemed to be glad that a campfire was finally lit up. They sat around the fire, having placed the animals deep within the hideout. Yeshe and Norbu had cut down some long poles and branches and had made a make-do shed. It made for quite a comfortable cave-like shed and they would need it, Sangye told Dawa, for the night in this

higher valley looked like it would be fiercer than the Dirapuk area. They had walked out from the monastery for only about four hours and yet, it seemed like they had been climbing steadily, though they were in the floor of the valley. Dawa looked up at the narrow distance between the walls of the valley at the location of the fallen boulders. He pointed out the gap at the top and said, Old man from Qinhai, do look at that narrow valley that is blocked out by these boulders. This is indeed a strange valley. We have climbed quite a bit, and if these boulders have come down this valley, they could have spread out for quite a distance. We are only at the entrance. What if we do manage to get inside these boulders through any entrance? What if we get trapped within these maze of boulders? Yeshe and Norbu heard Dawa but did not respond. They were busy cooking dinner for everyone and were also separating the food supplies for the yaks and horses and the mastiffs. Sangye patted Bzanba, his favourite mastiff over the many years that he had been coming to the valley of the Kang Renpoche mountain, and replied, Old man Dawa, I know. I have also been thinking of the same problem. It can be quite terrifying if we get stuck inside the maze and we are unable to get out of it before a rainstorm or a snowstorm hits us. The size of these boulders worries me. There may be larger ones behind them. Larger boulders may not be a problem. They may provide space between them for us to walk through. What if there is a pile up and some boulders may have

crashed through. We should be careful before we enter this area. We should scout ahead, and locate open land or caves before we enter. We should keep the return passage open for fast movement to get back to Dirapuk, said Dawa, accepting the bowls of Tsampa and noodles. They could afford to indulge in eating well, for Norbu would travel to Dirapuk tomorrow and return with more people, supplies and animals. Sangye added, There must be some very distinct way. How could large animals such as the wild yaks have walked through? They are not known to climb sheer rock. I have seen some animals on steep slopes, but have never heard of them hopping from rock to rock. The passage could be narrow, and the yaks may have walked through in a single line. But they would have known about it. We do not know if the yaks returned to this valley. They could do so tonight. Remember, that wolves accompanied the herd of those wild yaks. The wolves could return earlier. Norbu looked up worried at the thought. What if the wolves entered this camp hideout of theirs? He would be safer if he slept nearer to the yaks and the mastiffs. The yaks could frighten of the wolves. He thought back to the story that he had heard from Brother Tameng and old man Dawa and the manner of behaviour of the wolves. Would he indeed be safe in this hideout? He thought back to his worries earlier in the evening. They seemed to be headed into a trap, with this valley that looked like a box filled up with stones. Norbu placed his sleeping bag near his yaks, and accompanied by his mastiff, and made sure that they

would be comfortable for the night. He had kept the huge tarpaulin sheet nearby to be ready if there would be a rainstorm or a snowstorm in the night, and he could cover up with his yaks and his mastiff. The other two yaks and Kangryi, the mastiff, had snuggled up against a rock wall that had been made warm with the cut-up bushes and brushwood that Yeshe had lined up. Dawa had set up three small campfires inside the hideout and had placed a pile of stone pebbles and small rocks within them to keep warm if the fires were to go down. He was moving around, fire-to-fire, and adding dry wood and twigs and stoking them to make sure that the night in the hideout would be warm enough for the animals. He could sleep for short periods of time and could also wake up in a completely alert manner at the faintest disturbance. Norbu sat up and watched Dawa nearby, intent on relaxing at the fire, and said, Old man Dawa, you are wise and you know this valley well. I have never stepped away from the kora around the Kang Renpoche Mountain or the big lakes. I look at you for guidance. But, I have one question that has been bothering me since the evening. Dawa and Sangye looked at Norbu, not surprised that the young boy was worried. This could happen to anybody. These mountains did that to many. You could go around these regions like you had the toughest personality, the best courage and strongest will, and suddenly, you could be hit by worries and panic. It had happened to both, Dawa and Sangye, in many a camping trip. You could get frightened, having to stay trapped inside your tent or inside a dark cave, through the night. People around the world did not know the colour of darkness, Sangye often

said to Yeshe, until they came to the upper Himalayas in Tibet, and looked at the night without any lights or fire. There could be no darker colour of black than the colour of night in these mountains. Stay in peace, boy, for you are with good friends in these mountains, said Sangye, Old man Dawa and I, we have many years of travel, camping and wandering about in these mountains. We know that it could get frightening to move into the higher areas, suddenly, without planning or discussing the trek forward. We do not know where we go. Perhaps, no man has ever entered this valley. Tomorrow you will turn back to Dirapuk and return with more people, supplies and food and animals. It will get better and better. Norbu nodded thankfully, and bowed, showing his gratitude, and said, I thank you, for you are both well acquainted with these mountains. I am worried for another reason. We search for the path of the herd of the large wild yaks and we think that these animals came down from this valley. I have another question. What if these wild yaks walked up this valley, wanting to enter the region beyond, and came to this very same rock wall and stopped? What if they returned from this spot, unable to enter, in the rainstorm during the night? What if they went from here to go through Dirapuk and then walked through the Lhachu valley? What if they came from a different place, from a valley someplace else? Sangye looked at the young boy with new respect. This fellow was a thinker, no doubt. He wished that his grandson, Yeshe, would also use his brains like this young boy or like the courageous young monk from

Choku. The old nomad from Qinhai replied, Young man, you are correct. It could be possible. Anything is possible in this valley. We do not know. What we now know is that there is this valley that is unknown. The herd of large wild yaks was unknown. The aspect of wild wolves accompanying wild yaks in a rainstorm was unknown. There is only one known fact. The fact that the tracks of the wild yaks were seen only on the trail leading away from this valley is the only known aspect. Let us enter this valley. Let us explore the unknown, said Sangye, and added, We have nothing else to do in our lives, me and old man Dawa. The kind Kang Renpoche Mountain has blessed us with this mystery, and allowed us to pursue it. Who knows what will happen? The wild yaks may not have come from here. But, an unknown valley is out there, waiting for us to enter it.

***

Would Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha show the direction? Would there be a sign? Would there be an indication of what was to be done by him in this strange turn of events? Was this why he had joined the monastery? Was there some purpose in his life that was to be revealed now? wondered Brother Tameng. He sat, quietly in meditation, thinking within himself, trying to clear his mind, trying to focus on the most revered

Amitabha Buddha, trying to absorb the vibrations of this magical land of the Thousand Living Buddhas. Master Rinchen and the younger monk watched him quietly. They sat patiently, nearby, away, to a corner, out of his line of sight, so as to allow him to come to a decision by himself. This was a difficult moment, Master Rinchen thought to himself. He could guess the dilemma inside Brother Tamengs mind. The young boy was a dedicated monk and had come over totally inside the realm of searching for knowledge and truth, as would be shown to him by his own efforts. He had to make this decision and he had to be able to carry the courage of what he would determine. Brother Tameng sat in meditation. He tried to blank out everything from his mind. He removed event upon event, out of mind, one after the other. He removed the thoughts of the rainstorm. He searched for the images he had of the twelve pilgrims that had sat out there in the circle of stones. He searched for a definite set of images inside his mind, and removed them. He blanked them out. His breathing began to get more even and his face looked calmer to Master Rinchen. The yak boys and horse boys who had gone together to accompany Brother Tameng came inside the prayer hall and sat quietly, watching him. They knew there was some special prayer going on. He continued to search for other images and kept removing them. The herd of large wild yaks, the strange behaviour of the wolves accompanying them, the fearless manner in which the twelve pilgrims stood up, facing the wild yaks and the sudden hailstorm. These

images were all sought out, one after the other, and removed from his mind. Brother Tameng knew well within himself, that if as Master Rinchen suggested, that this was a sacred and mysterious Beyul, then it was a sacred mission for him and the team that would explore it. He wanted to be prepared for the survey and the journey, physically and spiritually. A group of Russian pilgrims, trekking through the route from Darchen to Tarboche to Choku had come inside the prayer hall. The two pilgrim guides who were to accompany Brother Tameng gestured to the Russians to stay quiet and to make themselves comfortable in a farther corner of the prayer hall. The pilgrims complied dutifully and went to the farthest corner and sat down, waiting for a signal to allow them to unpack. One of the yak boys went outside, picked up two jars of water and placed it near the Russians and gestured that it was safe for drinking. Brother Tameng was sitting straight up, still, silent. He did not seem to be in any sort of trance, but could be seen to be very calm, peaceful and content. He had achieved a sort of a blank space in his mind, when he saw nothing, thought of nothing and contemplated nothing. He did not even think of the Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha, and did not think of the valley of the Kang Renpoche Mountain or the mysterious valley. He was in a position of absolute non-being, if there could be such a term, and was just waiting. He knew that he would be told in some manner. He was waiting, but also, his mind was not waiting.

This is a difficult concept to explain. You have to be there and you have to know how to achieve this stage in meditation. There is no one who can teach you to reach that exact point and there is no book or theory that helps explain how to do it. You are only told that you can reach such and such point of nothingness in meditation, and you need to keep trying and trying and trying. Brother Tameng had spent years in meditation and so had Master Rinchen. They had never come to a situation where they could claim that they had achieved a stage of total nothingness. The paradox, of course, is that when you are at that stage, you know that you have achieved something that cannot be shown off to others. Brother Tameng was now at that point in his meditation, wherein he had kept on removing image after image of the situations that had occurred during the night and day, and now he could search for directions without allowing them to decide it for him. He understood what he had to do. He had to go to the mysterious valley, and join the team that had gone ahead. He had left behind the aspect of the twelve pilgrims, the circle of stones, the wild yaks, the wolves and the hailstorm. These would not be the reasons for which he would enter the Beyul. He would go to the mysterious valley, because, just because, it existed. There was the valley, north of Dirapuk, and people had not entered it. It could be a sacred Beyul, and Master Rinchen and the monks of the other monasteries in this region would begin a search for any documents, records or parchments that may turn up. But, he would not wait for any information.

In the absence of any expectation, and in the absence of any dual purpose of trying to seek reasons for the turn of events, Brother Tameng knew that he would be ready to accept any situation that he would see, and he would not avoid any chain of events that may develop because he had been taught differently, or that the world had known of only a particular aspect or logic. He would not see it as being illogical, irrational, impossible or non-spiritual. This would be a Beyul that he would have to accept, as it would reveal itself. Brother Tameng came out of his meditation and looked up at the Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha and hummed a slow prayer. Master Rinchen and the younger monk came near and sat alongside. The yak boys and the horse boys and the pilgrim guides sat respectfully behind them, at some distance. Master Rinchen led the prayers, humming slowly, turning his prayer wheel, and gesturing to the younger monk to use his chanting beads. The prayer continued until the entire string of beads was turned and the younger monk stopped at the master bead. He waited at the master bead, his thumb and his middle finger, grasping it, while his forefinger was kept away, in a gesture that made sure that it did not touch the chanting beads. Master Rinchen nodded, and told Brother Tameng, It is time, my brother, it is time for you to go. Take your team, the animals and take this prayer wheel and my chanting beads with you. My blessings and prayers will go with you. Every day and every moment, we will pray for you here. Our thoughts will be with you. Do not hesitate to send messages and information back with these boys and do not hesitate to ask us for anything that

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you would need. We may be monks and this may be a monastery and this may be the most remote place in the world, but we can get things done. You know that. It is His Way, and He will most definitely send His helpers here to show us the way from time to time. Brother Tameng looked at the team that had assembled. The two old pilgrim guides smiled at him with affection. They knew him from many years and they knew the old man Dawa. Where the old man would go, there would be adventure and they did not want to be left out of it. The rest of their lives were routine, and Brother Tameng had just now invited them to go into what was totally uncertain and to unknown regions. This was their life. They wanted to go with him. The three horse-boys and the three yak-boys went out to get the animals ready. The equipment had already been packed up and was to be tied onto the yaks. They were to take six yaks and six horses with them. Everyone would ride up, with Brother Tameng, the pilgrim guides and the horse boys on the six horses. The yak boys had divided up the supplies, tents and other equipment in such a manner that three yaks had lighter loads and they could ride them. Brother Tameng bowed low in front of the Amitabha Buddha, hugged the younger monk and sought Master Rinchens blessings. The Russian pilgrims watched quietly. They came out of the prayer hall and looked at the number of animals loaded up and the team assembling to move out. This would be some expedition, said one of the Russians. Master Rinchen and Brother Tameng did not give any hint that they had understood what he said, for they

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knew the language quite well. The team began to move out of the Choku monastery with Brother Tameng placing himself in the center, so that he could allow his horse to move ahead by itself, by following the lead of the other horses. He was beginning to get tired and exhausted now, and he did not want to take the trouble of having to stay alert, up front, on the Kailash trail. This was certainly a magical land, he thought, this strange mystery that nobody could or would walk up the Kang Renpoche and now, this turn of events. He looked at the Choku monastery, and waved to Master Rinchen and looked at the peak of the Kang Renpoche and sought its blessing.

***

They reached Dirapuk early, with the horses and yaks being able to walk at the same speed because of the water streams and marsh that had begun to collect through the valley. The higher slopes must have collected most of the waters of the rainstorm and the streams had begun to flow through to the valley. It was difficult riding the animals through the slush, rocks and deepening streams. The sun was not to be seen from the valley but the peaks could be seen reflecting the sunlight. The team rode to the Dirapuk monastery and alighted at the gates. The monks from the monastery had seen the team approaching and were at the gate to receive them. The

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monk from the Dirapuk monastery welcomed Brother Tameng and accompanied him to the prayer hall. The team rode ahead to Yeshes parents eatery and made the yaks and horses comfortable in the sheds. Yeshes parents welcomed the pilgrim guides, yak boys and horse boys and invited them to eat and rest. Hot soup was ready and the boys were happy, for it was getting colder as the evening began to fade away into the night. Brother Tameng met the other monks within the monastery and sat with them for dinner. Yeshes parents had sent across an enormous platter of food and this was shared with the pilgrim groups who had taken shelter in the monastery for the night. The pilgrims wondered about the occasion but welcomed the food. The monks sat near the windows and discussed the situation. The monk from the Dirapuk monastery introduced the other monks to Brother Tameng and the group sat together quietly in prayer. After a while, the senior monk gestured with his prayer wheel to permit discussion within the group. This is a strange point of our lives, when we do not know what we have set out to achieve. We know that some mysterious events have occurred in our valley, but we do not know what we are supposed to learn from them, said Brother Tameng, We are here in the monasteries in the valley of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, on the path to seek knowledge. There are some windows that have been opened to allow us an extremely brief view of the magic and mystery of this valley. Should we seek this knowledge by going out in search of it, or should we wait in our prayer halls,

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hoping that these events would come in search of us, and drown us with knowledge? The monks at the Dirapuk monastery smiled at this very obvious naivet challenge by Brother Tameng to get them excited. The senior monk laughed loudly, for he was of a very boisterous nature, unlike the monk who had gone out to meet Sangye and Yeshe on the earlier day. The senior monk turned his prayer wheel four times, and bowed in the direction of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, and said, Brother Tameng, you are a good man. You do not need to convince us. We are going to give you strength in your search. We have come here to the valley of the Kang Renpoche, and we have come here in search of the knowledge that would meet us. The younger monk of the Dirapuk Monastery, he who had gone to meet Sangye and Brother Tameng, said, Thank you, Master. We could have sat back in our houses and villages, wherever we were, with our families, and without forsaking our lives, as we knew them. We are here today. There must be a reason. We have to accept the events without sentiment and without emotion. They have happened, and they have happened here. Brother Tameng is to be complimented in allowing these windows, as he calls them, to open. If he had not been curious, we would never have known about them. Now that this has occurred, we need to take this forward. Brother Tameng bowed, to convey his gratitude at the affection and friendship that the monks from the Dirapuk monastery has provided, and said, Brothers, Master, I thank you. We have resources that most pilgrims who

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visit here do not possess. These pilgrims whom you see, taking rest in our prayer halls every day, they come here on a journey that is once in their lifetimes. We stay here, and for us this valley is not a place to be visited, to take photographs, and to return to tell neighbours, relatives and friends about our journeys. This is our life. One team has already entered the valley. The two old men, Dawa and Sangye, are the best trailsmen in this valley of the Kang Renpoche. There is none better than them. We need to allow them to lead us inside the valley and we need to provide them help and support and resources. The younger monk of the Dirapuk Monastery looked at the senior monk, bowed, and said, Brother Tameng, we agree. We had discussed the issue within our monastery and our Master consulted with the old records that we possess. There is no mention of this particular valley where Sangye has led the team to search for the herd of large wild yaks. The Master also told me that he has never heard of any story or gossip or mention about such a herd of large wild yaks in the valley of the Kang Renpoche. But, that was a very rapid search of the few documents that were consulted by the Master within the monastery. The senior monk placed his hand on the several ancient volumes that had been stacked nearby, and said, What we do not see in these books may not be labeled as nonexistent. It only means that these events are written within these books. While you would enter the valley with Sangye, we will send our messages and enquiries to the other monasteries about our search for the mysterious Beyul. We will not include mention about the

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herd of large wild yaks. We do not want more tourists to flood this sacred valley. The younger monk nodded, and spoke to Brother Tameng, What if the wild yaks were sacred spirits? We do not want them to be harassed or chased by tourists or crazy hunters who would come down from the Han regions. We hear stories of mountain goats being hunted, and we hear horrible stories of yak herds being chased by hunters on powerful vehicles. This is not the Tibet that we knew of earlier years. You spoke of the strange behaviour of the wolves. How could that be possible of the wolves that we know in these regions? We know of the closely held relationships of the ancients, of the sacred spirits with the animals in these regions. The Hindus believe that their Lord Shiva rides a white bull, Nandi, when he leaves the sacred mountain and visits other places. The Thousand Buddhas came to this valley with their Mastiff dogs. Are these stories true? Has anyone seen the white bull of Shiva? asked the younger monk, But, as the Master says, just because we have not seen the white bull, and because others have not seen the white bull, how can we say that it does not exist? We think that, Brother Tameng, what you were shown, of the herd of wild yaks, wolves and the mysterious pilgrims, is to let us know that some secrets do exist and they can be contacted. We can see them. We can search for answers to some of the mysteries of the Kailash, of the Sumeru, of the Kang Renpoche, and we should go out in search of them. But, the Master has sought caution, for the spirit of adventure is not to drown the

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cause that we are here for, that is to go out into the valley, into the Beyul, only, only, only in search of knowledge. The senior monk nodded in agreement, and sat quietly in prayer, turning his prayer wheel. The other monks waited, in respect, with Brother Tameng. There was much to think about, for what they were to seek and search, was about a set of events that they were not acquainted with. The younger monk waited for the Master, and when the prayer wheel stopped, said, Brother Tameng, it is with concern and respect that we should enter the Beyul. The reason we emphasise this need for respect is because the entrance to the valley is near the Dirapuk monastery. We support you. Brother Tameng nodded in agreement, and replied, I thank you, my brothers, Master, and in homage to the Most Enlightened One, for it is the search that is more important than the result. We do not know what is to happen, and what is it that we would discover. I saw what I saw. I can never forget it. Old man Dawa was more excited about the opportunity to enter the Beyul. That is understandable. For, Dawa and Sangye are the best in this region. This is why I want to join them. For I want to be sure that we focus on the search for the unknown. I do not want the two old men to convert the search into a hunting journey. An unexplored valley is sure to be filled with animals that would not shy away from humans. The younger monk smiled at the reference to Sangyes enthusiasm for the hunt, since he knew him from the past few years, and said, I agree with you, Brother

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Tameng. I will accompany you into the Beyul. We have discussed about it in the monastery. My senior brothers have agreed that I should join you. This could be our Beyul. Our elders may inform us later that we were supposed to guard the entrance. We will go together, Brother Tameng, and we will see what we will see.

***

The team started from the Dirapuk monastery in the dark of the dawn. The early rays of the sun were brilliantly bouncing from the higher peaks of the mountains. The Kang Renpoche Mountain was in silhouette and looked as if it was night on one side of the peak, while the other side, the one that they could not see, was past its dawn hours. They had planned to travel early and fast, and meet up with Sangye and Dawa at their camping place inside the mysterious valley. The Master of the Dirapuk monastery had felt that the Beyul team may find it difficult to start early since they were inside a valley surrounded by steeper and higher mountains, and dawn would establish itself at least two hours later in there. Yeshes parents had not slept at all through the night. They had been busy putting together supplies, including food items and packing them up in waterproof bags. The yak boys and the horse boys had moved the animals inside the sheds and were able to get the bags all loaded up in time. The two old pilgrim guides, Katishe and Satawa, were moving around, checking all the supplies, animals and talking to Yeshes parents. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk monastery walked up to the

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eatery. One of the helper ladies fetched them bowls of hot soup and noodles. The monks bowed to show gratitude and sat near the stove and welcomed the warmth. It would be cold out there, thought Brother Tameng, and really cold, much worse than the times in the Choku monastery in winter. Would they survive and did they have enough supplies, he wondered. Sangye, Dawa, Katishe and Satawa were tough trailsmen, and they were very familiar with the planning that was required to go into the high valleys. It would be foolish to make mistakes by trying to be heroic or adventurous. These experts would know that and they would certainly not allow anyone to lead them into an accident. They began to walk up the slope behind the eatery. The yaks were walking ahead with the supplies, while the horses were coming up behind the monks. Katishe and Satawa were walking up far ahead of the yaks to search the trail. There was no light to make out anything on the path, but the old trailsmen were looking out for sign of Sangyes team and trying to understand and get a feel for the path ahead. They began to look around at the amount of boulders on the slope and on the streambed and were getting worried. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk caught up with the trailsmen and understood the problem. It was quite obvious. The size of the boulders was getting larger and the distance between the mountain slopes towards the entrance to the valley was getting narrower. Did Sangye and his team actually get into the valley yesterday? Was there a clear path through these boulders

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and into the valley? It did not seem likely. The early hours on the trail and the good spirits of the yaks and horses allowed the team to move fast through the narrow paths that did exist and they reached the blocked passage within two hours. Sangye was sitting at a shelter near the valley walls. He waved to them, happily, and his two mastiffs came running out and started barking. The dogs also seemed to be happy at the sight of more people and animals. It must have been tough out here through the night, thought Brother Tameng. Dawa walked out of the shelter and hugged the two old trailsmen. They knew one another from many years in the valley of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, and were always happy to meet up in the mountains. Yeshe and Norbu met Brother Tameng and started talking excitedly. They were in a hurry to explain the predicament that had been encountered. The team could not enter the valley. These boulders had blocked the entire entrance to the Beyul. How could the herd of the large wild yaks have come through this path? Even the mastiff dogs could not enter. How could the larger yaks have come out of the valley? Perhaps, this was the wrong path. Perhaps, the wild yaks had not come through this path. Perhaps, this Beyul was not to be entered? The monk from the Dirapuk monastery sat inside the shelter and waited for the young boys to stop talking. The three mastiff dogs came to sit near him. They knew him from Dirapuk and were friendly with him and the other monks from the monastery.

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It was getting colder in the valley. Katishe and Satawa moved the animals inside the shelter and deeper within the spaces amongst the large boulders. The boys began to cut up and collect more branches and stuff to pack the small openings and to start small fires inside the shelters. Brother Tameng, the monk from Dirapuk monastery, Sangye, Dawa, Katishe and Satawa sat under the small rock-cave made by two large boulders and the mountain walls. The boys sat nearer the entrance and watched the fog collecting outside. Sangye asked Norbu to repeat his doubts about the wild yaks in the valley. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk heard him patiently. Dawa knew that it was not his time to offer his advice or suggest alternatives. The animals sat quietly deep within, while the mastiffs sat nearer a small fire and made themselves comfortable. Yeshe went about adding one yak dung-cake on to each fire to allow for the flames to give off better warmth. The fog outside the shelter was getting to be fiercer and it seemed like it would drizzle very soon. The monk from Dirapuk monastery spoke to the group, My brothers, please do remember the mission that we are on. Please remember that Brother Tameng saw what has not been seen in this valley at any time before. We are here at the entrance to this valley because we want to enter it. We will enter this valley and we will not stop at any barrier. If we are not able to enter it, then it only proves the fact that this valley could indeed be one of the sacred and lost Beyuls of Guru Rinpoche. Where else could such a valley be found? Other than the closest upper valleys near the Kang Renpoche Mountain, of course.

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Brother Tameng nodded in appreciation, and said, My brother, you do say it correctly. Where else could it be? And if we are not able to enter it in the normal course, it does prove that it could be a sacred valley that has an entrance that needs to be opened. Who are we to enter it without permission of Guru Rinpoche? Are we permitted? We need to find out. We need to seek the permission of the Most Enlightened One and we need to seek guidance from Guru Rinpoche, for it was he who knew the mysteries and secret pathways of knowledge, land and its relationship with nature, and the manner of residence of the gods and sacred spirits of this place. Look at the fog out there. Look at the boulders on the hill stream. Look at the manner in which these boulders block the valley. Humans have never crossed this place in recent years. There must be a reason for it. Let us pray to seek blessings. Let us pray to seek permission. Let us seek the grace of Guru Rinpoche and let us seek to find the entrance with humility, with bowed heads, and with a very sincere attitude that lets this land know that we enter here for knowledge only. Dawa nodded in agreement. He knew Brother Tameng and knew that the young monk had a more wiser and blessed spirit than those who knew these mountains for longer. Master Rinchen had advised the old man Dawa to allow the young monk to have his way, and prevent him from committing to any foolish adventure only if it seemed to be dangerous. Sangye gestured for Norbu and Yeshe to join the seniors in prayer. The boys at the entrance to the shelter pushed tarpaulin sheets across the

22

opening of the shelter to keep the fog out and joined the prayer group. The monk from Dirapuk monastery turned his prayer wheel and sat quietly, focusing his mind on the boulders outside the shelter. Brother Tameng grasped his prayer beads and pressed them against his chest and closed his eyes to meditate. Norbu sat impatiently, watching the group sitting quietly, but started the prayers that he was familiar with. He knew it would not be in good behaviour to avoid prayers when two monks were sitting within the group and were in sincere prayer. He may end up attracting any evil spirits wandering around, he thought. Brother Tameng sprinkled some sacred powder up in the air above the fire and returned to his meditation. He kept moving the images of the boulders and the valley and the high mountain walls, the fog, the drizzle and the high peaks within his mind. There had to be a way. He pulled at the image of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, the image of Guru Rinpoche, the images of the Buddhas, the Amitabha Buddha, the Sakyamuni himself, Avalokiteswara, and moved these images with the images of the boulders and the blocked up valley. There had to be a blessing from Guru Rinpoche, and he requested him to permit the group to enter the mysterious Beyul.

***

23

The prayers continued. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk were concentrating all their efforts to search for answers deep within their mind. Sangye, Dawa, Katishe and Satawa completed the inner circle with the two monks around the prayer books that had been assembled near the fire. Norbu and Yeshe sat outside the circle, while the yak boys and the horse boys sat at a distance. Suddenly, Sangye started rocking to and fro, and started humming loudly, and sat up straight on his knees. He brought his hands to his ears and began to humm in two syllables, repeating the words that sounded like ki and cha, again and again and again. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk looked up startled. It seemed as if the spirits of the valley had entered the old man Sangye, and it seemed as if someone else was reciting the humming. Someone, who did not sound like Sangye at all, but sounded more like it was a woman. The drizzle of rain outside the shelter had stopped, and the fog had lifted, as if magically, like it had just been wiped out from a painting where it had existed for thousands of years. The old man Sangye stood up and walked out of the shelter, with the others following him quietly. For Dawa, Katishe and Satawa, it looked like nothing was wrong or out of the normal. They were used to such divinations of the spirits of the mountains speaking through one of their own. The monks had heard about such events, but had never seen one directly. They did not seem too surprised, but were looking on respectfully, worried, since they did not know how were they to react. They remembered the advice given to them by their Masters, that they should accept whatever that would

24

happen out here, and were not to question any development. The rocks seemed to be resonating from the sound of the drizzle of rain that had just gone by, and it sounded as if the large boulders were trembling. The sky above was clear, totally without any clouds. The old man Sangye came to stand in front of a huge mass of extremely large boulders and seemed to be crying out his humming sounds and was quivering in a gentle shake of his body. Yeshe looked on at his grandfather, in what was totally unknown to him before, and wondered if he was to worry about him or to stay courageous in his belief that the old man could do no wrong. Sangye began to humm out the word ki loudly, and stopped reciting the word cha. The sound of his humming began to echo out through the boulders, and the word began to be proclaimed thousands of times, again and again, causing the aspect that the boulders were trembling with extremely clear sound of the word ki. The skies above were suddenly filled with white clouds and surprisingly, from within these clouds, one dark gale-clad cloud dropped lower into the valley. It started raining heavily through the boulder area, and the place became dark and seemed like night had taken over the day by force. The group could see the other white clouds above the gale-cloud. A flash of lightning seemed to come out of the dark cloud, but did not strike down, and rather, it hissed out as a straight beam of light, with extremely loud and clear thunder, going away into the valley inside. Brother Tameng and Dawa, standing next to each

25

other, trembled at the sight of the lightning, racing deep inside the valley. The thunder started resonating through the boulders in waves that multiplied upon themselves, thousands of times. All this time, old man Sangye stood near the large boulders, quivering, and humming. The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. Thin white clouds began to descend down the valley and a very gentle breeze began to come through the boulders. The valley continued to be in darkness, and yet, as if by magic, light came out through two boulders, curving out like a crown of diamonds on black stone that would never have reflected any form of light. These rays of light were coming through the valley and were being reflected off some strange form of mineral that seemed to cover the inner sides of the boulders. Sangye stopped humming, and pointed, and said in Tibetan, in a dialect that was very ancient, There, you see what did not exist before. It exists now. There, you see what we saw, and yet we did not see. The very best of warriors of very nature created by the sacred spirits of this valley, the most peaceful warrior of all, peaceful white light. The sacred spirits show us the entrance, the manner in which the light is shown, we will enter. The old man Sangye crouched low, and stretched his arms, in the manner of a vulture, and said, It is here, that we see what we could not see from the ground. It is in the manner of the grey vulture, that we should see from a distance. There is a trail here, and it curves inside these boulders, back and forth, like the lotus would have its petals, we would need to enter from here, and walk through the maze. See the light that shines upon these ancient minerals on the rocks. These are from the sea

26

that covered this ancient land much before the Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha. It is so said to me in my mind, and I do not know how. Let us make haste. The monk from the Dirapuk monastery took control and said, I will stay here, at the shelter, and will keep Norbu and two boys and their animals with me. One of the boys will go with you for some distance, but send him back with something to mark the way back. We will get more help here, and my brothers will come here, and we will pray here. This is indeed a sacred place, for the manner in which we are permitted to enter, through the very signs of the sacred spirits, it is clear. We need to be respectful in what we do. Old man Dawa nodded in agreement and gestured for the team to get ready and start to move through the entrance. Sangye, Katishe and Brother Tameng had started walking inside the space of the trail between the boulders. It seemed to be quite comfortably wide, and it was well used, judging by the smooth passage that it provided. They had not been able to discover it yesterday, when they had arrived in good daylight. It was the lightning and the contrast of the rainstorm with the clear clouds elsewhere, that showed up the entrance. Brother Tameng realized that the light had hit the fossilized layers on the inner side of the boulders, fossils that looked like they were seashells. The light had been reflected from the fossils as if it had hit against a smallenclosed room with a million mirrors. Yeshe and Satawa rushed around inside the shelter getting the animals loaded up and entered the space between the boulders. It was miraculously comfortable

27

entering the space and it seemed quite silly now that they had not spotted such an opening on the day before. They should have seen it. They had been misled by the play of shadows and dark corners between the boulders and had not been able to realize that there would be adequate space for them to pass through with the heavily laden animals. It was a very comfortable path, as they could see, and they made good progress and met Katishe who gestured for them to stop. Brother Tameng and Sangye were standing in front of a ledge within one of the boulders, and they seemed to be praying. There was a painting, about ten inches by ten inches, inside the ledge, and it showed an image of that of a very ancient god-like person. He seemed to have been a warrior, judging by the dress that he had worn, and his kingly moustache. He was smiling and his face was radiant. He was a very strong and tall person, Brother Tameng thought. The person was shown sitting on a mountain summit, crouched, as if he would launch himself into the valley and would comfortably fly over it. The person seemed to have been blue in colour. Behind him, there was a cloth banner in white and the painting at this spot was quite damaged. He must have been the guardian spirit of the Beyul. I have never seen such an image. There is none like him in all the stories that I have heard of the Amitabha Buddha, or the Sakyamuni or the stories that have been told of Guru Rinpoche. There is great karma here, great siddhi here, and great blessings abound, for the emanations that arise here, from this image, are still in existence. Look at the aspect of the painting. It is out here in the open, within these boulders, and has never been damaged by

28

the rains or the climate of this valley, said Brother Tameng to Sangye, He is a divine spirit, no doubt, but he is blue in colour. That is strange. But, who are we to question anything that we discover in this valley? The team started walking forward. The path kept curving through the boulders but did not seem to open up above. There were boulders above the path, and it was obvious that daylight never entered the space here. Sangye lit a torch, made of branches and twigs, and kept swinging it back and forth in a curious manner. Each time he swung it in front of him, it would flare up, and each time he took it behind him, it would die down. There was a definite current of air up ahead.

VII

Hariram Maharaj looked at the two pilgrims with wonder and amazement. The Jain monk nodded his head in awe. Strange are the ways of the Gods, he thought to himself. These two pilgrims spoke in a language that seemed like very ancient Pharsi, the singsong manner in which the priests at the temple at Navsari would speak. He did not understand anything but he was familiar with the sounds and the words. He spoke in Hindi to Maharaj, and said, Praise be to all those who seek the best of their lives here at the Ashtapada. Peace be with all those who seek to come here and meet others from so many other religions.

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Luo Tsering understood the intention behind the words of the Jain monk though he did not understood any Hindi. He asked Maharaj, Do ask these two pilgrims if they would stay and wait for their colleagues or would they go ahead or return to the Kang Renpoche? The elder pilgrim seemed to have understood the question, for it was he who replied, I thank you for your hospitality, my brother, for it was indeed a terrible night that we survived together. It was because of your good, tented eatery here, and the food that we received, as did all the other pilgrims, that we are safe today. It could have easily been a disaster. The words of gratitude were welcome to Luo Tsering, for it was rare that he was told that he had done a splendid job. He replied, Where do you come from, if you are to the west of Ngari? And, you say that you are also west of Tibet? These pilgrims here are from India and they do not know our land the manner in which we do. I am myself not from Shiquanhe. But, this is a good land and we are blessed that these pilgrims come here, each year and we benefit from the trade? Are you also traders in your land? Is there good business in your place? The other pilgrims had drifted away, eager to get out of the eatery, and soak up some of the bright sun that was shining down. The Jain monk stayed back near the stove, sitting alongside Hariram Maharaj. The younger monk had not spoken and had kept his silence, but looked extremely at peace, and did not seem to be disturbed by the discussion. The elder pilgrim looked around at his audience, and bowed to show his gratitude and to signal

30

the fact that he did not resent the question about his identity and his nativity. We come from a similar place to the Kang Renpoche, and we come to this region in pilgrimage. Our place is near the great lake that you and the Indians know as the Great Karakul. This lake is also like the lakes near the Kang Renpoche, and yet, is similar in not allowing us and the other locals to benefit through any agriculture, said the elder pilgrim, Our Lake is below the great mountain ranges, that the Han Chinese and others in the world know as the Pamirs. We live below the shadow of the great Kongur Mountain. The pilgrims from India did not respond, and Maharaj continued to wait to hear the rest of the story. They did not know the Karakul Lake and they had not heard of the Kongur Mountain. The Jain monk understood that the story was over, and he replied, We do not know of these places. But, I do understand that your place is towards Iran from Tibet. And therefore, the use of the strange language and dialect is understandable. How come that you say that your gods are different? The Parsis from Iran in India did not seem to have many gods deep inside mountains. Maharaj said, Yes. The Parsis in India do not have gods that they visit inside or on top of mountains. So how did you say that your religion and way of life is linked to the mountains that are the homes of your gods that you come to visit in the Kang Renpoche? I have never heard of Parsis coming to the Mount Kailash to offer pilgrimage or to pray to Shiva or Buddha. Is it in your

31

religion that you would come to pray to Shiva or Buddha? Or, to Guru Rinpoche? We do not speak the Parsi language and we do not have any ancient Parsi language, replied the elder pilgrim, What you heard are words that sound similar to the Parsi or ancient Parsi language that you think that you are familiar with. The Parsis in your land would not understand our language. And, we would not understand their language. It is only that some words and the manner of our speech are similar. Thats all. Nothing else. We did come from Iran and the areas around Afghanistan and the other nations that are in the region to our West. But, we come from a nation that existed much much earlier, and there is no such nation in these times in those regions now, the elder pilgrim said, We live in poverty. We are not rich. We live in mud and stone houses. We live in a mixed community with Kirghiz nomads, who live in yurts, and our village exists, in peace, though we do not have money. The younger pilgrim stood up and came near the stove, extending his empty soup bowl. Maharaj refilled it quietly, in the manner of a householder feeding guests at his house, rather than in the manner of an eatery. He had quietly included the spicy condiments of an Indian soup and this had made it tastier to the bland soup that the Tibetans were familiar with. The younger pilgrim picked up some fried eatables and went back to sitting alongside his colleague.

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The Jain monk spoke, My brother, what you say is quite fascinating. You seem to be from Iran, and you seem to speak Parsi, and yet you are neither. The travels of your people must have been accomplished hundreds or thousands of years ago. I must speak of this to my friends from the Parsi temples at Navsari. There are many experts in the city and they keep studying the history of their people. They may know something that I do not know. But, I am still curious about why you would leave your other companions on the kora and return? We would not have done so, since we are from India, and our travel permit requires us to travel together and return together. The local police and the customs office at Nyalam would not permit us to travel to other regions, said the Jain monk, But I guess, it must be since you are from this land. And, you are in Tibet, since you do not seem to be from within China. Are you from China, or are you from Tibet? And why did you leave your companions behind at the kora? The elder pilgrim nodded in agreement, and replied, Yes, my brother, you who seem to be a holy man, we do not need travel papers or permits for travel in our land. We are so ancient, and have ancient traditions and our way of life is the manner of this land, that we do not know the nature of the nations of today. Tibet and China exist today, and in the manner of your nations, India, Nepal and Pakistan, we do not belong to any nation. We are here, because we live here. We do not participate in any political or social activity here. We are neither from China and nor from Tibet.

33

You are all curious about the pilgrims who stayed behind at the kora. It is very simple. They wanted to stay behind. You come from distant lands, and it is in your tradition and in the manner of nations that you are from, and in the manner in which the nation of China exists, that you are allowed to only do the kora around the sacred mountain, the elder pilgrim continued, And, therefore, you come all this distance, do the kora, and you leave. But, you never come here, to be a part of this land. You do not come here to stay here, and to live with the sacred mountain. This is what we do. This is our land. This is our mountain. We come here, to live with the mountain. We go back to our villages, and we return. Some of us stay back, and some return. We pray, we do our sacred rituals, and we stay here. Our group will return later, the elder pilgrim said, Some of us do the kora, as I and my brother did it this time. I have done it twice earlier. We will return to the great Karakul Lake. As I said earlier, for us, the Kang Renpoche Mountain is more sacred than to any of you. My holy brother from India, I know, you had said that the legend of the Ashtapada Mountain would be the earliest, and we bow to you and to the legend. Maharaj was absolutely fascinated. His goal of completing 108 koras was nothing compared to what the elder pilgrim was telling him. He had been living illegally in Shiquanhe, and forever, he seemed to fear that he would be caught and sent back. He made up his mind now, at the words of the elder pilgrim, and said, Brother, I am very happy to hear what you say. I would also like to stay on the sacred mountain, and keep on

34

doing the kora. I fear the cold for I am from the plains of India. Please tell your people that you can come here, to this eatery of Luo Tsering, and you can always stay here, in your travel to the sacred mountain. I shall do the kora with you the next year, if you would return, and I will wait for you. Truly, this place is tremendous in its magic.

***

Where had the young boy gone? He had been sitting near the Lake, and Vijay Kulkarni was absolutely sure that he had indeed seen him very clearly. The surreal aspect of the young boy seated on what must have been extremely cold marshy areas, and then, to have disappeared, seemed extremely typical of what he should have expected here at the Manasarovar Lake, he thought. So early in the morning, and especially after the rainstorm and the visions he had of something happening on Mount Kailash, it was typical that he saw stuff happening by themselves at the Lake also. Himanshu and Paramita were almost near the Serka Khim area, and were pretending to take photographs of the area and the Chiu Gompa. The other pilgrims had begun to climb up to the monastery. Vijay walked speedily, without running, to the spot where had had seen the young boy. He did not look back at the vehicles or at the group of pilgrims. He knew that Himanshu knew his job and Paramita was very good at identifying the rock types. He did not have to push them or ask them to be diligent. They were better at their work than him.

35

The small grassy mound was empty. The boy was not to be seen. Vijay walked around the mound. It was barely two feet above the marshy slush and the smooth stones on the bare fallow land. Himanshu called out, Vijay, be cautious. A monk seems to be walking towards you from the Chiu Gompa. He seems to be quite a senior one, by the colour of his robes. Vijay kept walking around the mound and turned towards the monastery hill and could make out the monk walking down the slope towards the Serka Khim area. He may have some other work, and may not be related to the sighting of the young boy, thought Vijay. Where had the young boy disappeared? There was no pathway around these mounds, and there did not seem to be any well or hole in the ground for him to slip into. Could one hide below these mounds? Not possible, thought Vijay. He climbed up on the grass mound that he had seen the young boy seated upon, and walked around. It was a largish mound, and had not seemed to be of such a size, when he had seen it from a distance. The grass was wet with the morning dew and there were puddles of water seeping in, from the leftover since the rainstorm. Vijay walked about on the grass mound. At places it was very soft and slushy and mostly covered by the grass made heavy by water and dew. There seemed to be an open fallow patch towards the Lake edge, and it was obviously looking very different. He went to the open patch, and stood staring at what he could see. Himanshu and Paramita had been keeping a watch out for the senior-looking monk who had been walking down from

36

the Chiu Gompa, and decided to join Vijay. It was apparent that he seemed to be excited about something, and there was this monk who was walking towards him. The sight was amazing. There were some drawings on the fallow land, drawn by a wet stick that was lying nearby. It seemed like the young boy had sketched four circles, with lines inside each one, more in the form of spokes of a bikes wheel. The four circles were drawn in a line, next to each other. What had the young boy done? Why did he draw these four circles? Suddenly, Vijay realized that the monk from the Chiu Gompa was walking straight towards the grass mound, and he was walking quite rapidly, despite his age. He was a senior monk, and it would not do to avoid talking to him. Vijay lifted his hand and waved in a friendly manner at the monk, and hoped that it would suffice to establish his good intentions. The Sherpa boy had begun to walk towards Himanshu and Paramita, having noticed the monk who had been walking away from the monastery. Was it perhaps so obvious that the three of them were doing something different? Vijay kept looking at the sketch and tried to remember all the drawings and the imagery of the thangkas that he had seen and studied before he had come on this trip. He had never seen any such design or sketch in any of the Buddhist imagery, paintings or illustrations in the books that he had studied, or the monasteries that he had visited in India, in Himachal, at Dharamsala and at Nalanda. The thangkas that he had seen at the monasteries in Ladakh did not have any such sketch.

37

Where had the young boy gone? How had he managed to disappear? Why did he not have any clothes on him? How did he survive without clothes in this extreme and bitter cold climate? Vijay kept looking around the grass mound and at the fallow open land where the sketch had been made. It had been made deliberately, and had been done so in the morning. The stick had been used to sketch the four wheels or circles. They seemed to be wheels, he thought, because of the lines that had been sketched in the manner of spokes radiating out from the center. The senior monk came up on the grassy mound and greeted Vijay in perfect Hindi, and said, Brother, welcome to the Chiu Gompa. I notice that you did not bother to climb up into the Gompa but you prefer to wander about in the marshy lands. I come to warn you to be careful of the bitter cold. It was a very bad rainstorm yesterday night, and today could be dangerous to those who do not know these mountains. Come with me, and let us return to the monastery. Vijay thought, what the heck, perhaps the senior monk could help figure out the sketch of the four wheels. He pointed out to the location, and to the sketch on the ground, and said, Sirji, you speak very good Hindi. It sounds like music to us, for we find it is very difficult to understand the local language. I came to this grassy mound because I saw something very strange. Look at that sketch on the ground. It seems to be a sketch of four wheels, side by side. I am also disturbed that I had a sudden vision of a young boy who was sitting at this place, without any clothes.

38

Himanshu and Paramita had been listening quietly, and looked startled at the statement by Vijay that he had seen a young boy out of nowhere. They kept their silence, and walked up with the senior monk to the spot where the sketch had been made. The senior monk introduced himself, My Hindi is from the years that I was at the various monasteries in India, and visiting various places. I also get to meet and talk to the several pilgrim groups from India, and I am always happy to allow them to stay overnight with us. I saw you wandering around, and I rushed here. Last week, we had two pilgrims who died due to altitude sickness, while wanting to take bath in the Lake. Not everyone can do so, for their health and age may not permit them. Vijay smiled, and replied, Thank you, Sirji. I understand your concern. I am very familiar with similar altitudes and we are good at being sensible in these mountains. You are correct. A small mistake could have dangerous consequences. Please take a look at the sketch of the four circles here. The young boy, who I had seen, must have been sitting here. The sketch here proves that I had not imagined it, and that I am telling the truth. The strange part of what I saw was that the young boy seemed to have some sort of metal shirt on his chest and back. He did not have any clothes on himself. He was also wearing a helmet of some sort. But, please take a look at the sketch. I have not seen anything of this sort in any Buddhist monastery or any book, Vijay said. The senior monk looked at the sketch and walked about and was looking around. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion within himself, and replied, Brother, you are different. You are able to

39

understand this land. Therefore, these mountains have adopted you, and you are able to see what is here to see. Such visions are not strange to us, except that I have not seen any vision during the entire period of many years that I have been in Tibet. But, people do see different visions, and that is part of our daily life here, in this remote high mountains of the world. What you see is definitely not Buddhist, he continued, pointing at the sketch, This is not Hindu or Jain. This is Bon. This is an extremely unique sketch, and is known to us as the The Setting Side by Side of the Four Wheels. This comes from the teachings of Great Perfection. Each circle is a Khor-lo, or, a Wheel of Teaching. This is not like Hindu Tantra or Chakra or whatever. This is very different and is a sketch of a very ancient teaching. It is rare to see anyone sketch it so easily on such barren land, and yet be able to convey its teaching. The four wheels depict the wheels of a vehicle. They convey the need to understand these four schools of thought, for it is through the motion of all four aspects of Teaching that the vehicle can move forward. Did you see the boy go somewhere? I did not see any boy walking around in this marshy land. We are very attentive.

***

A Sherpa guide from the tourist group had been given the duty by the tour-leader to stay behind at Darchen and take care of the pilgrims who stayed behind, for problems of altitude sickness, breathlessness and fear of

40

walking at these heights. Such problems came in many forms. Some got breathless, while some got claustrophobic in their tents at night. Some pilgrims were known to have got claustrophobic inside their sleeping bags, because of the heavy sweaters and woolens and blankets and other stuff covering them to protect them from the cold. The tour-guides knew about these problems and the Sherpa guides were trained to be protective of the pilgrims and take care of them in an affectionate manner. Some did, actually most guides took care of the pilgrims in their groups. Some did not, and these were rare. The monk from Nalanda discussed the visit to Gyengtak Gompa with the Sherpa guide and informed him that the policeman would also accompany them. Shenshe waved to the Sherpa and called out and said, Go and get three horses, horse-boys and one yak with one yak-boy. You will also come with us and bring your other Sherpa boy also. We will go to Gyangdrak and we will stay there tonight. I want to see the mountain call this sikh pilgrim. He says that the mountain talks to him. They think I have no other work here at Darchen. It is okay. We will all go together and stay at Gyangdrak tonight instead of Darchen. The Sherpa guide had been seeing all the arguments and discussion since the night before and he had been sitting quietly at one corner of the tented eatery through the rainstorm. His brother was with him, and they had been with this tour group for more than five years. The tourleader was a very good man, from their remote village in Nepal. He had gone to Mumbai and established a good tour agency that brought pilgrims to the Mount Kailash

41

from all over India. Some pilgrims came from other countries and they had begun to trust this tour group. The Sherpa guide knew better than to argue with a policeman, even if in Nepal. And this was not Nepal, and this policeman was not a Tibeti, but a Chini Police. He went about organizing the animals and boys. Sardar Amarpal Singh had completed his prayers and sat quietly inside the tented eatery, contemplating his prayer beads and his stainless steel bangle. He wore a single bangle, very thick, and he considered it to be more precious than the prayer beads. He took out a cotton scarf, orangish-saffron in colour, and began to polish the bangle. As he polished it, his mind went back to his house, and to Amritsar in India, and to the Amrit Sarovar, the sacred tank around the Harmandir Sahib Temple. He had been sitting at the steps and had been deeply immersed in feeling a happy glow at seeing the temple in the evening. At that moment, a tall, well-built, Sikh Sevaadar (= volunteer), had come up to him and mysteriously produced the prayer beads, the steel bangle and the cotton scarf and gave it to him and walked away. Amarpal felt that it was most definitely a miracle. It was a sign from the sacred book, and from the Sikh gurus, to go closer to the temple, to learn more about the word of Guru Nanak, and to do something significant in his life. Since that day, more than fifteen years ago, Amarpal had left his family, property and partnerships with his brothers and uncles, and had gone into the service of the temple. The priests at the temple had been reluctant to allow him initially, for he had come from a large joint family, and they wondered if he had left his family after fights and problems. Amarpal returned to his family and

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brought back men and women from his house to meet the seniormost granthi (= priest) at the Harmandir Sahib temple. They had jointly vouched for Amarpals serious intent and his total devotion to the word of Guru Nanak. He had not gone about trying to become a granthi, or a sevaadaar or a kar sevak (= voluntary worker or helper) at the Golden Temple premises, and the various other establishments in the complex. He immersed himself in the library in the temple and at the Akal Takht (= the highest body of the Sikh religion). He kept walking around in the museum premises at the temple and visited all libraries and museums in Amritsar. He had wanted to understand the world of his first teacher, Guru Nanak, and he had wanted to understand why the great man had done what he had done. Thereafter, Amarpal had decided to focus and limit himself to the Udaasi (= travelogues and pilgrimages) of Guru Nanak, and especially his third Udaasi that had brought him to Sumeru. Shenshe and the monk from Nalanda checked out the horses and the yak and the boys. Luggage and sleeping bags and food packages were loaded on to the yak. The team moved out of Darchen, with Amarpal, Shenshe and the monk from Nalanda riding the horses. The boys kept a tight grip on the bridles and walked at a rapid pace towards Gyangdrak. The Nandi Hill and the Mount Kailash peak could be seen glistening under bright sunlight. A small rivulet coming down from the Nandi Hill towards Darchen had frozen up. Some of the topmost ice sheets were beginning to melt down and this made the slope towards Gyangdrak to become slippery.

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The boys knew what to do. They controlled the horses and kept them walking towards the monastery. Sardar Amarpal Singh had ridden horses earlier in his native village, but this journey was quite different. He had also become older, heavier and had not ridden horses on steep slopes. The boy kept asking him to lean forward to help the horse climb the slope faster. The monk from Nalanda found it difficult to breathe if he would lean forward. He had to sit straight up and gasp for air, and this made it more difficult. He ended up being almost breathless. Shenshe had traveled this route, but had always done it on foot. He did not have any problem with his breathing and enjoyed riding the horse. The Gyangdrak Gompa, or Gyengtak, as it was usually called, sat on a hillock that looked like an island by itself, in this harsh topography around the Mount Kailash. One could see the Ashtapada slope from behind the Gyangdrak Gompa. Today, it was resplendant. The monastery seemed to have been constructed across three or four levels. The bottom two levels were in white colour, while the top two levels were in stark contrast, in brown shades. The bottom level also served as the compound around the monastery, and must have helped establish the plinth for its construction at this remote location. The uppermost level of the monastery was quite majestic in its appearance. It emerged from within the white compound and the ground structures, and rose high above the hillock. It seemed quite juxtaposed with the dark and shining white clouds that were floating around it. One side of this uppermost level did not have any windows. There were four large windows on the each of

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the other two sides. The side opposite the one without windows had two small windows alongside a broad wide window in the centre. The level below the uppermost had two large windows established in alternate central positions below the four large windows. A faint footpath could be seen after the rainstorm of the previous night, going to the monastery. The prayer flags were intact and did not seem to have been blown away during the storm. They entered the Gyangdrak Gompa compound and alighted from the horses. The boys and the Sherpas took the animals and went around to spots that they were familiar with. They knew the locations to camp down for the evening and night at the Gompa. Shenshe, Amarpal and the monk from Nalanda walked through the compound. Large prayer wheels were rotating slowly in the noon breeze in the entrance to the compound. Three large prayer wheels were affixed within one wooden frame, and there were twelve such frames in a row. The thirty-six prayer wheels were golden in colour, and the bright-red frames gave it a beautiful contrast. They could see various camping sites at a distance. Darchen seemed to be just a patch of huts and tents at a distance. The Manasarovar lake was shimmering as a faint patch of sky that had come to rest on the ground. A caravan of tour groups was moving around in the distance, approaching Darchen. Four land rovers followed by two trucks, followed by another group of six land rovers with two trucks. The rainstorm must have lifted in the region, thought Shenshe, and very soon, other pilgrim groups would begin to come together at Darchen.

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The entrance to the gompa was similar to those elsewhere, with the two deer seated facing the wheel of dharma, in the center. Towards the hill-slopes, they could see two retreat cabins set up into the cliff. One of the monks was watching them from a lower window and came out to greet and welcome Shenshe, for he had recognised him as the local policeman. Shenshe wondered with amusement, if the monk could figure out the nature of the strange group that he must be seeing, a Han Chinese policeman, a buddhist monk from India, and a sikh pilgrim.

***

The monk bowed to Shenshe, and said, Welcome, my brothers, I am Shedrub Repa, and I welcome you all to the Gyangdrak monastery. This is the Gyangdrak Gompa. He pronounced the words, Gyangdrak Gompa, in a very thick Tibetan accent, as rGyang-grags and, dgon-pa. Shenshe did not even bother to bow in return. Who was he to welcome him here and there, in his own territory? He had more than enough right to enter any premises around the Kang Renpoche mountain, sacred or not, he thought. The monk from Nalanda glanced at Amarpal Singh, who nodded his approval. He walked up to Shedrub, the monk from Gyangdrak, and bowed low, to show more than adequate respect, and said, My brother, I am also from Tibe, and my fathers before me, and my grandfather, have visited the Gyangdrak Gompa. My name is Sonam Sangye. I am extremely proud that I am

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able to visit this sacred place today and be able to meet you. I am thoroughly blessed today. Shenshe realized that this was the first time that he heard the monk from Nalanda refer to himself by his name. This must indeed be a special occasion for him, perhaps more important than what the Sikh pilgrim wished to achieve. Sonam continued, Let me introduce my dear brother from India, from Punjab. He is a holy man from the Sikh religion, and has come to trace the footsteps of his first Master, who visited the sacred mountain and traveled in this sacred land of ours. That was several hundreds of years ago. His name is Sardar Amarpal Singh. We were at Darchen yesterday, and during the rainstorm of the night before. This kind policeman at Darchen, has become like a good friend and brother to the both of us. He is a nice man, Brother Shenshe, said Sonam, the monk from Nalanda, But, we are here for a very strange reason, and I beg you, my brother, Shedrub, to indulge us our strange request. My Sikh brother, he who himself is a holy man in Amritsar, and very well respected, he walked about in the rainstorm in the middle of the night, and he says, that he saw the sacred mountain, peaceful, with no rain falling on it, and he feels, he says, that he saw something happening on it. Some movement. He says that he thinks that the sacred mountain is calling. The monk from Gyangdrak, Shedrub, smiled, and bowed in respect towards Sardar Amarpal Singh. Shenshe was surprised. What was happening? This monk was not even surprised that a strange pilgrim, a Sikh pilgrim, had come to the monastery for the first time perhaps in its

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history, and he tells him this weird story that he saw some movement on the sacred mountain during a rainstorm, and this monk believes him? What was wrong with this people? He could have been so much happier if he could have been posted at Shanghai or Beijing. Even, Kashgar would have been better. And the police bureaucracy had to post him at this totally forsaken place, at Darchen, and he had to listen to stories like this. As if in answer to his unasked question, Shedrub replied, Our Sikh brother is indeed blessed to have been able to see the magic of the sacred mountain. I am not surprised at all. Anything can happen here, in this valley of the Kang Renpoche Mountain. But, come inside the Gompa, and take rest. Brother Shenshe, please inform our Sikh brother that he is not alone in thinking that there was something happening on the sacred mountain during the rainstorm. He is not crazy. There was something indeed different on the sacred mountain during the night. Shenshe could not believe what he was hearing. The monk was actually saying that there was someone else who would have seen movement on the sacred mountain during the middle of the rainstorm. How could that be possible? He would have to investigate this situation. What would happen if this would become known all over the world? The government would kill him, for he was the only policeman in this region now, today, and he was here, on the spot, and he would have to admit that he did not know anything about any suspicious activity on the mountain. Shedrub, the monk from Gyangdrak, continued, The monks from the Choku Gompa are here, having come an

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hour ago. They speak of strange happenings on the sacred mountain. They also feel there was some movement during the night. Come, enter our gompa. Rest for some time. Shedrub led them inside the main prayer hall. There were several tour groups and pilgrims seated around. There had been pilgrims sitting around with their tents and equipment in the compound outside the gompa. It was cooler inside the prayer hall, and much more comfortable than looking continuously at the snow clad peaks. The light often reflected painfully off the peaks and the snowy landscape. The low-lit candles inside the prayer hall provided the comfort that one needed. In one sunlit corner, the monks from Choku Gompa and Gyangdrak Gompa were seated together and were in discussion. They looked up at Shedrub and the strange group of visitors, a Han Chinese policeman, a Buddhist monk from India and a Sikh holy man. The senior monk from Gyangdrak Gompa could guess that Brother Shedrub would have more than adequate reason to bring this group to the discussion with brother monks from the Choku Gompa. He stood up and welcomed them to be seated. Brother Shedrub went ahead to organize some refreshments and hot soup for the visitors. The senior monk greeted the three visitors, Welcome to Gyangdrak, for this is the sacred house of the Most Enlightened One in many ways than what is known to us. I am blessed to be here to serve you, having come all the way from my native home in the valley of Mustang in Nepal. I am Nam Ang Tsering, and the seniormost monk at Gyangdrak. I welcome you here. There are our

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brother monks from Choku, and they come here to discuss with us. Come, join us. The monk from Nalanda acknowledged the welcome, and replied, Greetings, senior brother, and guardian of this sacred place, I am Sonam Sangye, I am from this sacred land, but my parents had gone to India and I study at Nalanda. I bring with me, Sardar Amarpal Singh, a holy man from Amritsar in India, and brother Shenshe, the policeman who has been very helpful and kind to us, from Darchen. I am sure that you would have met him before and you know him. We do not wish to disturb you, but we come here, because my brother, Amarpal, thought he saw something strange happen in the night on the sacred mountain, during the rainstorm, and he says that he is being called by the sacred mountain to come closer to the slopes and the peak. The senior monk of Gyangdrak, Ang Tsering, nodded in appreciation at the judgement shown by his brother, Shedrub, and said, Welcome, one and all, this is the meeting place of all religions. God is here, and makes his presence known by the different messages he sends to one and all. We are all humans, and it is this particular detail that is dear to him, and nothing else. Our brothers from Choku are also here to discuss the same strange happening that took place at night. They also feel that something or somebody or some strange thing was happening in the middle of the night, during the rainstorm, on the slopes of the sacred mountain. We are discussing it. Sardar Amarpal Singh, at the invitation of Master Ang Tsering, explained what had happened with him during

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the night at Darchen. Brother Shedrub, the monks from Gyangdrak and the visiting monks from Choku listened in silence to the strange looking Sikh pilgrim. They had seen Sikhs earlier in Tibet and in Nepal, but they had never spoken to any Sikh or discussed religion with them. To hear Sardar Amarpal Singh, speak with such passion, devotion, reverence and knowledge about the greatness of the Kang Renpoche Mountain, the monks could only marvel silently at the amazing diversity of attachment that brought pilgrims to the region. The two monks from Choku explained to the seated group about what had happened at the Choku and Dirapuk areas during the rainstorm. They explained the visions of Brother Tameng and old man Dawa, and the happenings at the valley behind the Dirapuk Gompa. They also explained about the expedition that had started to enter the mysterious valley behind the Dirapuk area and of how eagerly the many people had joined up in the journey. The monks also explained the fears of Master Rinchen from Choku that he did not wish to commit any sacrilege or take up any wrong action. It would be good to know if there were records or knowledge of any such mysterious happening, or of the existence of the mysterious valley. They wished to know, they explained, if the records of the numerous Beyuls in the region included mention of the mysterious valley behind the Dirapuk Gompa. Sardar Amarpal Singh heard them in silence, and felt a happy sort of calmness within him, as he realized that he had not been wrong, and he had not gone crazy.

***

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Master Ang Tsering heard the monks from Choku speak of the happenings in the valley of the Kang Renpoche Mountain during the rainstorm. He was concerned. He had been aware that there could be surprising events, unexplained occurrences and enormously intensive spiritual experiences in this region. He had never known of such a series of events, so very totally unrelated, across so many locations, to people who did not know each other, and all these events happening during one stormy night. This had never happened. The monks from Choku had begun to once again retell the story of the sighting of the wild yaks in the rainstorm. Sardar Amarpal Singh seemed to be excited about the fact that the wild yaks had gone out of sight in front of the Choku monastery. He kept nudging the monk from Nalanda and repeatedly pointed at the slopes of the Kang Renpoche. Shenshe, the policeman, looked up startled at the excitement of the Sikh holy man. Looking at the head monk of Gyangtrak, Shenshe spoke in Chinese, I hope this holy man from India is not planning to walk up the slopes of the Kang Renpoche. He wants to do that. I do not want any trouble if he goes up the slope. Startled, Master Tsering asked, in Chinese, What do you mean? He wants to walk up the sacred slopes? And, you brought him here, to Gyangtrak, to the entrance to the inner kora? Why did you do that? You are responsible. I will inform the Superintendent at Shiquanhe or your senior officers at Ngari if he does that. He knew that the policeman would worry about

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that threat. Master Tsering knew what was to be done with enthusiastic pilgrims. He had done that earlier. There were methods to do so in a peaceful manner. Sardar Amarpal Singh spoke to Sonam Sangye, the monk from Nalanda, Brother, did I not tell you that I saw something on the sacred Sumeru? I was correct. See, these monks are telling us that those twelve men and the very large wild yaks and the wolves disappeared from view near the Choku monastery. Did I not tell you that there was no rain on the sacred Sumeru during the rainstorm? These monks are also saying the same thing. They are saying that there was no rain for some time in the area near the sacred Sumeru. Master Tsering decided that it was time that he took control of the discussion. He spoke to Sardar Amarpal Singh, Brother Sonam Sangye, Shenshe and the monks from Choku Gompa, Brothers, let us focus on what is being requested for action to be undertaken. This is the valley of magic. Anything can happen here. Let us not question about what has happened. We are not here to question the reasons about why they happen. We need to determine what is to be done in the future, and what is our role in it. We are at the correct location, at Gyangdrak. We are at the inner kora, and this is the most sacred of all the locations around the sacred Kang Renpoche Mountain. We have been here the longest, and we are the guardians of this valley. We are not a museum, we are here with a purpose that has been given to us for nearly a thousand years, Master Tsering continued, From the times of Ghuya Gangpa, who was the

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rdordzin, we are older than some of the various communities of the different religions. And to this day, we cannot ever say that we know all the mysteries of the Kang Renpoche. And of those mysteries that we know about, we do not know the secrets of these happenings. The younger monk from Choku Gompa bowed in respect, and said, Master, we come here, therefore, to seek your guidance. Our Master has instructed that we request you to inform us about the secrets and the teachings of Guru Rinpoche, and of the secrets of the mysterious Beyuls, the hidden valleys. After all, this was also the region where three different kingdoms existed, since the Zhang Zhung empires. It is possible that there may be a list, or an ancient book, or a Thangka painting that could inform us about the hidden valley behind the Dirapuk gompa. There may also be mention about the existence of the herds of large wild yaks. Shenshe interrupted, Wait. I am not bothered about valleys and wild yaks, and whether there was rain and whether it stopped or did not stop. What is this that you tell me about twelve pilgrims who sat in the open and disappeared in the night? Where did they go to? The younger monk from Choku Gompa replied, We do not know. That is the reason why we are here today at the sacred Gyangdrak Gompa. They were sitting out there in the open, in the outer kora, and they sat there during the rainstorm. Now they are no longer seen in the kora, or near the Dirapuk Gompa, and nobody has seen them at Darchen or Tarboche. We are unable to say what happened to them. We are here at the sacred Gyangdrak Gompa to enquire for more information and guidance.

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Sardar Amarpal Singh spoke to Brother Sonam Sangye, who in turn translated for Shenshe, and said, My brother, the Sikh holy man, says that he thinks that the twelve pilgrims walked up into the slopes of the sacred mountain. You may wish to follow them into the mountain, if you wish, since you are the policeman in this region. He is joking, of course, my friend. But, he asked me to tell you this. You cannot tell if he is joking or not, for he does not look like he is smiling. But, I know him for many days now, and I know that he is joking. Shenshe sat quietly, sullen, at the leg pulling by the Sikh holy man, at his expense. Master Tsering replied, to the younger monk from Choku Gompa, and said, The reality of the mysterious valley, in this land, is older than the Most Enlightened One, when this land was of the Bon. It is also said that the first great master of the Bon, Tonpa Shenrab, was also an earlier manifestation of the Most Enlightened One. But that is of course, argued, depending upon who is telling whom. The Bon call this the land of Olmo Lungring, and this name was for what is almost the entire land of the Ngari, and to the west of Ngari, and some lands in other nations outside China and Tibet. I have heard mention of what you say of the circle of stones, and pilgrims who have come to this sacred land, from west of Ngari, and this is mentioned in some old documents that refer to an ancient land of Staggzig, but I have to search for these records, Master Tsering continued, It used to be said that anything can happen in the land of Shambala, but all that is romantic stuff. It is not from the records and

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diaries of our ancient masters of the gompas in this land. The monks of Gyangdrak and Choku Gompas gathered around Master Ang Tsering, as he began to speak about the sacred land. Brother Sonam Sangye sat in excitement. Sardar Amarpal Singh sat patiently. Each person knew that what they would hear from Master Tsering, here at the entrance to the inner kora, could not be told by anyone else, and could not be read about in any book in the outside world. On his part, Shenshe could not care less. He was more worried about the team of government officers to come from Ngari in five days to enquire about the garbage thrown about by the pilgrims at Darchen. Somebody had complained and somebody high up in the government had been called from some embassy of China in some important country, and the officers from Ngari had been asked to enquire into the matter. And, here he was, in this remote monastery, following a Sikh holy man and a Buddhist monk from India, and hearing stories. Master Tsering, bowed his head in reverence, and continued, There are ancient books, and records, that the Bon call the gzermig, I think, that the Beyuls exist in actual fact. They are not mysterious and they are not confined to mythology. The mystery is about what may exist inside these Beyuls. We know of the Amitabha Buddha, and we know of the bdebacan of the Sacred Master, that the people from the holy land of India, think to be sukhavati. Ancient scriptures in India, for Hindus, this is also the mystery of lands hidden inside the dzambuigling, or as they call it, the Jambudvipa.

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The Kang Renpoche Mountain was known to the Bon, to the ancients who learnt from the Most Enlightened One, of those who followed the Buddha Amitabha, and to the ancient Hindus, this sacred mountain was known as the Yungdrung Gutseg or as the Gyungdrung Dgubrtseg, and this is known to the modern Christian world that questions everything that we know, as the axis mundi, whatever it is that they mean. The Bon, the ancient Hindus and the ancient Buddhists or the Jains, did not think this to be so. They knew that this land was the center of the planet. The heavens of our gods exist here. Our ancients spoke of the hidden lands as the Beyuls. These could be the lands of our gods. You cannot expect to walk inside these valleys and meet our gods or holy spirits wandering about, waiting to meet you.

VIII

Brother Tameng and Sangye made good progress inside the maze of rock boulders in proceeding ahead on the faint path that they could see. A large wild yak could have easily walked through this maze, on this path, thought Brother Tameng. If they would have walked in single file, they would have moved through and arrived at the valley of the sacred Kang Renpoche Mountain. Yeshe and Satawa were following them with the yaks and horses. The animals seemed to be moving through comfortably, and did not show any distress or fear. The

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yak boys and horse boys were spread among the animals, alternating with them. The monk from Dirapuk had stayed behind, outside the maze of boulders, at the night shelter that had been placed near the entrance. He had asked Norbu and two boys with their animals to stay with him. Norbus two yaks and his mastiff were walking about in the clearing with the two other yaks and horse from the Choku gompa. They examined the equipment with the group and began to separate the stuff to be retained at the shelter. The yak-boy and the horse-boy went about collecting the timber lying around to strengthen the shelter. It must have been many years since anyone had come to this clearing. Several good poles and bamboo was easily available. Inside the maze of boulders, Dawa and Katishe followed Brother Tameng and Sangye. The four of them were walking ahead of the group of animals and boys led by Satawa. The maze continued for a long distance, and very soon, Brother Tameng lost all sense of time, and of day or night. Sangye kept following him, without looking around at the boulders. He sensed the magic of the place, and could feel the power emanating from all around. Dawa kept Sangye in his sight, and walked at the same pace, and allowed for Katishe and Satawa to keep control and walk the animals at a steady speed behind them. Brother Tameng stopped on the trail. The passage ahead was dark and the boulders had fallen in a manner that light did not enter the trail. He looked around for a possible trail through other sides. There did not seem to

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be any other passage. The path had to go through the dark passage within the maze of boulders. They seemed to be in some sort of a clearing within the boulders, and there was better light and visibility at the spot where he stood. Sangye, Dawa and Katishe walked around in the small clearing, trying their best to spot any hidden opening in the trail. Norbu and the other boys and all the animals came up and stood, waiting patiently in the clearing. Sangye walked up to the dark passage and peered inside with his clump of lit-up grass. He could see the boulders on both sides, and the trail going ahead. Sangye, Dawa and Katishe got busy preparing a series of grass clumps for lighting up in the trail. Brother Tameng sat in the clearing, worried, thinking and trying to sort out this new development. Norbus mastiff came up to him and sat quietly near him, watching him with patient eyes. Satawa and the boys kept a watch on the animals, and kept talking to them, to ensure that they stayed calm and peaceful. Brother Tameng came to a decision. He called out to Sangye, Dawa, Katishe and Satawa to approach him, and said, Brothers, I feel I should stop here. I am not aware of what is beyond this dark passage in this maze of boulders. I came back with the monk from Dirapuk, expecting us to go ahead easily through the valley, and to search for the herd of the large wild yaks. But, that was not to be. There was the blockage, with the large boulders, stopping us in our path yesterday. And what we saw today, of the signals and happenings, the messages and signs that we received, that allowed us to enter, makes me cautious.

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I feel that I should return to Dirapuk and Choku. I will have to once again inform my senior, Master Rinchen. This was not expected to happen. We will need to be cautious. Let that not stop you all. You go ahead, and when you feel that you cannot proceed, then, you should stop and stay. Send someone back to Dirapuk, said Brother Tameng, We will not leave you all alone. We will set up a good base camp at the night shelter that you had constructed. Someone will have to stay guard at the place, and will have to prevent curious people from entering. Tourists may hear the gossip and may begin to walk inside the maze of boulders. You go ahead. I will return my horse and one horse-boy. Old man Dawa nodded in agreement. He could understand the dilemma. For the people of the Lhachu valley, this was their life. They accepted the mountains, the valleys, the trails and the unknown without question and proceeded along a path, when available. For those who were educated, there had to be a reason, a logic, an understanding, of how, why, where and when. The facts that were not known, the knowledge that was not available, was to be feared. Dawa smiled, for the people of the valley, those who were not educated, and this was true of most of them, the mountains were their teachers, their knowledge-givers and he was keen to learn. Brother Tameng returned along the path that they had come through, within the maze of boulders, with one horse and one horse-boy. Sangye, Katishe, Dawa and Satawa discussed the situation amongst themselves. Yeshe sat nearby and listened quietly. The two yak boys and one horse boy with them, sat near the animals. The

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discussion ended quite rapidly, and it was decided that old man Sangye and Katishe would lead the group through the dark passage. Dawa would follow them, with Yeshe and Satawa keeping the animals and the boys between them. Sangye peered cautiously inside the dark passage. The boulders seemed to be in place, on either side. The trail was clearly seen in the light of the flames from the grass clump that he was holding. He began to walk inside the passage. Katishe walked behind him, watching his silhouette appear and disappear, each time that Sangye moved the grass clump ahead of him and behind him. Dawa walked behind them, with the help of the faint glow, and with the light from the flames of the grass clump held by Yeshe behind him. The passage inside the boulders did not seem to have changed in any manner, except that it had become extremely dark. They kept walking, watching the boulders alongside, alert for any turn or passage that would have been missed in the darkness. The trail kept stretching ahead smoothly, and the group walked comfortably. The animals did not panic and did not hesitate. Sangyes two mastiffs, Bzanba and Kangryi, walked ahead of Yeshe, sometimes silently, and sometimes making noises, that sounded like they were happy to be part of the group inside this dark passage. The trail ahead of Sangye turned sharply, and began to climb inside the valley. Faint light could be seen ahead, and he walked faster towards it. There were brightly lit openings ahead, inside the passage. The slope seemed to indicate that they were climbing steadily. And then,

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suddenly, they were out of the passage, and into an open clearing, higher up than the carpet of boulders that they could see, stretching out inside the boxed-in valley. They could not see beyond a certain distance, probably from where the passage had turned sharply. The boulders had filled up the valley. Sangye kept looking around, trying to figure out the source of all these huge boulders. It looked like an entire mountain had crashed here. The group assembled in the open clearing, and sat around, resting quietly, and watching the valley ahead. There seemed to be an awkward problem, thought old man Dawa. There did not seem to be any valley ahead. The trail seemed to climb through the narrow gorge, and disappeared above. They would have to walk ahead, and watch out for what was in store for them further beyond the trail and the gorge. Sangye looked around, as had Dawa, walking about in the clearing. The opening to the passage was easily seen from here, unlike the other side, where they had failed to spot it early. Turning to the group, he said, Brothers, let us create a shelter here, and write down a message for those who may follow us. There are plenty of small boulders lying around here, and we can manage to construct a small hut, with a wooden roof, to the best of our ability. We may also need it ourselves, if there would be problems ahead. So, let us construct a large hut to extend out of a cave-sort of opening that can be made from the entrance to this passage. If light could not enter it, I am sure, rain or snow or hail cannot enter it. Yeshe and the three boys, Katishe and Satawa, got busy with the construction of the stone hut. Sangye and Dawa

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looked ahead at the manner in which the trail seemed to disappear into the very narrow horizon between the two sheer walls of the gorge.

***

Among the four of them, Dawa, Sangye, Katishe and Satawa, they were the best of the four trailsmen of the Lhachu Valley. Nobody knew the hills, the valleys, the rivers and glaciers of the Kang Renpoche area better than these old men. Yeshe looked proudly at this grandfather, and knew that Sangye was much better than the other three, for he came from outside the valley and traveled through the year in the other areas, including far off Qinhai and other provinces of Tibet. He had also accompanied his grandfather and parents to Karakul Lake for three years to try and earn a living during the tourist season at Kashgar and Kongur, but that had not worked out. The stone hut had been constructed. It was set up against an opening amongst the rocks near the passage within the boulders. They had decided to avoid blocking the passage, for fear that the herd of large wild yaks or other wildlife may want to move through, going into the valley, or going outside. The hut was constructed with the boulders from the landslide, and had been camouflaged with adequate branches and timber. It was quite large, and they could move the animals and themselves deep within the hut, and set up a good warm fire.

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There were two yak boys and one horse boy, and they had begun to develop a good friendship and chatter with Yeshe. They were still worried and scared about Sangyes huge mastiffs, Bzanba and Kangryi, but they had realized that as long as Yeshe would be around, the dogs would not turn harmful. The hut had been constructed with two cosy rooms within it, with an opening between them. The small rooms would retain the warmth from the fire and would allow them to retreat in the cold nights that they would encounter. Dawa and Sangye looked out at the trail, sitting at the opening of the stone hut. Dawa said, Old man from Qinhai, I do not think this will be the last hut that we are going to construct in this valley. Who knows how many days or weeks or months we may have to be here? I am not frightened of the winter. I will stay back here, if we do not get any answers. You can return to your warm plains of Tibe, outside these sacred valleys, and ride about on your horses, and pretend to be nomads. I am going to end my life here, in this Beyul. I know it. Katishe and Satawa, sitting nearby, smiled at Dawas statement. They knew him from many years in the valley. Sangye, noting the jibe about his life as a nomad, merely nodded, in the laconic face-shrug that is famously representative of the Orient and replied, I fear about what we are going to walk into after that narrow pass that is above us. This trail seems to climb sharply. We are now sharply traveling northwest of the Kang Renpoche areas. These areas are known to be extremely mysterious areas. People have come here, over centuries, in the other valleys. Nobody seems to have entered this valley.

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Dawa agreed, and said, I know what you are talking about. I may have been in one or two expeditions, nearly twenty or thirty years ago, when these outsiders did not have good equipment and could not survive in these areas for many months. Let us go inside, for it is getting colder and the cold air is beginning to bite my nose. I need it to help me breathe and blow the smoke out from my cigarettes. Let us take rest for the night, and pretend we are all at Darchen or Choku or at Dirapuk, with Yeshes parents. I hope the boys have cooked some good soup and dinner. It must have been about four in the evening, but the night had taken over. The cold mist came over suddenly around the hut and blocked out their vision of the valley. This was not wise, thought Katishe. With the help of the boys, the two trailsmen and Yeshe, rapidly piled up large stones at the entrance to the hut, and closed it completely. It would not do for leopards or bear or perhaps, wolves or wild yaks to wander inside in the mist. The group would not be able to escape and would be cornered and trapped. The hut had been constructed without windows, but there were some gaps for inflow of air, and at the rear, almost close to the valley walls of the mountains, an opening had been allowed inside a clump of adjoining trees, to allow the smoke from the fire to go outside, without being seen, unless someone was searching for them. The group sat together inside one of the small rooms and started with the hot soup. The animals were all grouped together in the other small room. The boys had thoughtfully kept a small fire going, in their room.

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Dawa asked of Sangye, Old nomad from Qinhai, you have traveled in these regions, from the northern ranges, and to the north of the Kang Renpoche. What do you think happened here, and where do you think we are going? We are northwest of Dirapuk, but we seem to be going up north, straight, and sometimes to the west. Tomorrow, we will know, when we observe the stars at early dawn, if we are lucky, and the mist would have gone by then. These may be hidden valleys, and may be quite large, but there would be something, someplace, some hill-range on the other side of this mysterious place. True, very true, replied Sangye, at this moment, it does seem like we have been walking north from Dirapuk. But, I do not like the sight of that narrow mountain pass that seems to climb upwards. People from places away from the Himalayas do not realize this aspect. They look at a map, and they only see East, West, North and South. What they do not realize is that our world is also made up of UP and DOWN. We may not go North or South, but going UP or DOWN can be made of several miles. There is another aspect that worries me, continued Sangye, we may be entering the Kingdom of the Lion, that is yet another mysterious place. It seems to be part of the mythology of this ancient land of Tibe, but the story did occur north and northwest of Dirapuk and the sacred Kang Renpoche Mountain. Nobody knows much about the place. But, it could be nearby. Or, we may be inside the Kingdom of the Lion already. This much is known. The Kingdom of the Lion is certainly somewhere in the Nganglong Kangri or near the

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Gangdise Shan mountains. We are between these mountains and the Kang Renpoche Mountains. So, we are nearby. Dawa nodded in agreement, for he knew of these mountain ranges. He explained to Kitashe, Satawa and Yeshe, This is an old old story. The story of the Kingdom of the Lion. We do not know much about it. But this much, I know. There is another story of an enormous hidden water storage area, below, inside the mountains somewhere here. It could be an underground waterbody, like a glacier is formed above the ground. There used to be Hindu sages, living in the caves near an area that was known by the Lion. There were Bon and Buddhist monks, who would go up these mountains and meditate inside the caves. Katishe spoke up, Old man Dawa, you forget one other story from these places. The gateway to hell. There is also talk and stories about the lake that is totally black in colour, unlike the lakes below our sacred Kang Renpoche Mountain. It is said, that if you enter this lake, you can travel to hell, and meet all sorts of demons and evil spirits. Is that true? Are we entering forbidden lands? Dawa and Sangye sat quietly, and showed by furrowed brows on their faces, that they were thinking deeply. It would not do to answer such questions in a light-hearted manner. The evil spirits and demons may be moving around, and they could be inside the stone hut. They may be waiting for such a mistake, and may get angry and take up residence inside any one of them, or inside the animals. Dawa said, I agree, Katishe, for, I have also

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heard talk of this Black Lake. But we do not have to worry. For, the problem comes if we enter the lake waters. Not before. We are here, in trail paradise, for trapping and fur collections. There is amazing wildlife in these regions. Bear, Chiru, Mountain Goats, Leopards and different types of monkeys and gibbons. There is good market for these skins. But the government prohibits us to carry weapons and arms and we are prevented by the sacred region from hunting the wildlife in these places. Do you know that we get different types of leopard in this region? The yellow one with spots, the white one on the snow and the third one, smaller, but with grey-white design. I hope we do not spot any leopard. They are always faster and more alert than you. There used to be a time, when one could see Chiru and mountain goats and wild yaks in herds of hundreds moving about on the upper slopes of most of these mountains. Today, they are not to be seen even in small groups or herds. I am glad that we are chasing a herd of large wild yaks in these mountains, and not a flock of high flying birds, or fishes or leopards. I hope tomorrow is a fine day, and there is bright sunshine, and we are able to see wild animals and birds in the valley.

*** The old man Dawa sat quietly through the night. He could feel the excitement, the tingling of expectation that he usually had, when the night led to the hunt in the morning. The nights in these upper Himalayas were

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unusually longish, seeing that they began at almost 4 pm in the evening and went on until 10 or 11 am in the upper hills. The Kang Renpoche areas and the Manasarovar Lake areas were more open and the dawn was at these areas much earlier. The stone hut had been built quite strongly. The smaller rooms had been set up quite deep into the opening amongst the rocks and there were two longish passagelike rooms that turned into one another at sharp angles before the stone doorway. They would have to do something about that doorway, he thought. It would not do to keep piling up stones and boulders. The day was also dangerous if wandering leopards or bears would walk in. There was word of vagrant tigers, very rarely reported, but who could tell with these remote valleys. It almost seemed like the herd of the large wild yaks would be the least dangerous. Dawa thought back of all the hunts that he had been on and the ages of tracking that he had done. He had been quite busy as a trapper in his young days, learning from his grandfather and father before him, and from the other elders in the region. Those had been really good days, he thought, remembering the feel of the fur, the sharpness of the hunt and the understanding of the small tricks that the animals would go into, while hiding themselves in these high mountains. It was different, each season, he remembered, and they would have to change their methods every time. The traps had been different for each season, and the location that they would choose for the same species would be different.

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Perhaps all that knowledge would be useful tomorrow, he thought. He kept walking up and down the passages inside the stone hut. The last room had been given to their animals, and they had seemed to welcome the warmth and the glow of the fire. The mastiffs had made their own corner, and yet, they could keep a watch on Yeshe. They must be feeling very protective of their human owner. Dawa smiled and wondered if Yeshe knew that the mastiffs felt that they protected him, rather than the other way around. The entire team had organised themselves around the fire in the room before the one for the animals. There were actually three small fires, with one kept aside in the northern corner, and this had been placed for allowing Sangye to conduct his prayers. The second fire was deeper in the ground, and there were many small boulders arranged inside. This fire was for cooking, and the warmth inside the arrangement of the boulders would stay within. The third fire was much larger, but spread out, to allow for the embers to remain warm. Dawa kept feeling his right palm tingle and itch. He knew the feeling. It came the night before the hunt, and he wondered about it. What would it be out there, in the valleys? It seemed to be something quite special. He reorganised his supplies and equipment slowly through the night. He wanted to be ready for any eventuality. He removed some of his supplies and clothes and warm blankets from the packages that were to go on the yaks. The bag would have to be just heavy enough for him to carry it by himself.

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He was ready for tomorrow. He had his bag, his woollens, food supplies, medicines and stock of candles and matches. Everyone continued sleeping. The excitement of the day and the struggle to construct the stone hut in rapid time had been tiring. They knew that they were secure inside the hut, and this had allowed for veterans like Sangye, Katishe and Satawa to lower their guard and sleep properly. They would not have done so, if they would have feared any wandering predator. Dawa smiled at his thoughts of the day. The two priests had returned. This is what he delighted in, for being able to organise his own thoughts and take decisions for himself. If Brother Tameng or the monk from the Dirapuk monastery would have been with them, Dawa would have had to listen and obey their instructions. He had grown up with the knowledge that in this strange region of the Kang Renpoche, one should not question the mysterious manner of events. He must have dozed off, he thought, waking up with a start. His right palm was itching very badly and he kept scratching it silently. The three fires in the room were glowing brightly. Old man Dawa kept watching the flames. They seemed to be talking to each other. A gust of cold air came down from one of the openings high up, and it sparked the large fire. The flames rose up in response, and Dawa looked at them, startled. He could see the image of the herd of the large wild yaks that had walked down the valley during the rainstorm. The image seemed to form within the flames, and the yaks were watching him, quietly.

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Dawa looked around to see if anyone else was awake. None. They were all asleep. The flames had gone down again, and the image of the yaks was gone. It seemed like it was a message just meant for Dawa, he thought to himself. Well, yaks or no yaks, spirits or no spirits, at this age, when life had moved by him, over all these years, he was not going to go and get defeated by phantom yaks or for that matter, a herd of large wild yaks, if they indeed existed. He got up and went up to the doorway and picked out a stone to look outside. The sight outside startled him. It seemed bright out there, with very clear moonlight washing up the entire valley. He could see the valley slopes and the forests and the rocky walls extremely clearly. Old man Dawa went back inside the stone hut and woke up Sangye, and whispered to him, Old nomad from Qinhai, listen quietly, and go back to sleep. I am going outside by myself, for its bright out there, with the moonlight. I will not go far, but do not stop me. I am taking my supplies and woollens with me. Relax and stay with the others. Dawa removed some of the stones near the opening and slid through sideways. Once outside, he walked around for some moments, getting the feel of the night. It did not seem to be extremely cold, and he knew he could survive this chill, quite easily. There was no wind, and the valley was totally drenched in white moonlight. He could see everyplace clearly. He went back to the stone wall doorway, and reaching inside, pulled out his haversack and supplies. He had also got a stout walking stick for himself, and to this stick, he tied a prayer flag. Turning back, he piled up the stones to close the opening in the doorway that he had made for himself.

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Which way to go? Dawa thought, looking at the steep rock walls. There was actually no other way out, other than the sharp trail that led upwards to the opening outwards from the valley that they had noticed in the evening. What if, he thought, what if, what if he did not take the obvious way out of the valley? The others would definitely go through the opening and would take that trail. Was there another trail within this valley? Was there more to this boxed in area inside these mountains? He looked around, with this perspective, trying to imagine out trails that could stay hidden within the sharp walls and forest cover. That one there, he thought. That had to be it. The western corner of the boxed in area, was covered with forests. He could not see inside the forests. If there was an opening that led out to another part of the valley, to another trail, those forests could easily hide such a path. The forests climbed up to quite a height at that corner. The walls of the mountain could also not actually make a corner, at that spot, he thought. There may be a path out there. He began to walk towards the forest area and looked down at the trail, startled. The trail seemed quite easy to walk on, and was quite smooth. And yet, it could not be made out in contrast to the valley floor. But, in this moonlight, without searching for the trail, and just by keeping the western corner as a target, old man Dawa found that he could walk easily without any hassles. He had reached the forest line, and he looked back to the stone hut and the passage through the boulders that they had traveled out from. It was a straight line, downwards. This was indeed

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a natural trail. Looking downwards, with the moonlight striking down on the shiny stones on the valley floor, Dawa recognised the pattern on the dusty path, startled. It was definitely a trail, and it was indeed a wild yak trail. There it was, faint, but certainly to be seen. A clear footprint, a lone wild yak, an extremely large one. Alone. It had gone into the forest. Very recent.

***

Sangye could not sleep after Dawa had woken him and told him that he was going out there all alone. He knew the feeling. Old man Dawa must have itched to go out there, into the valley, knowing that it was out there, calling him, to explore and walk through it. He had watched Dawa take his bag and realised that he must have sat through the night, packing and getting ready. Sangye, the old nomad from Qinhai, got up and stoked the flames in the small room for the animals, and got it to become warmer. He heard Dawa place the stones back on the doorway. He would have to wait until the morning, to allow for the animals to be packed up and ready for walking. He had a wristwatch, given to him by some Russian trekkers, years ago, and it ran accurately. Sometimes, he got new batteries for it at Shiquanhe, and it would run for more than a year without any problem. It was a trekkers watch for high altitudes, and cold winters. It had a glow to it during the night, and it had been many a night that he had sought comfort and sanity during winters by just

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gazing at the glowing dial inside his sleeping bag. It could get quite frightening during the winter nights. Around 7 am, he woke up Katishe, Satawa, Yeshe and the Yak boys. The boys began to organise a hot sludgesort of meal for the yaks, made of grain paste. The animals would feel comfortable with the warm sludge for them. Yeshe got a meal organised for the mastiffs. The animals would have to eat inside the stone hut, for it would be dark and cold outside. Katishe began to get the breakfast organised. A large bowl of soup with yak fat and butter started boiling, with appetising flavors. Sangye had warned Katishe against making any sound with the utensils or adding any flavored leafs or herbs. He did not want the smell to be noticed outside the stone hut. Not until they knew the area, anyway, and knew for sure that there would be no danger outside. By 9 am, the entire group had got ready. Sangye asked the yak boys to take their animals outside and have them walk around. He had decided that the yaks and the yak boys would stay back at the stone hut. They would not proceed with the group until they had known the trail for some distance and would know for certain that it was safe ahead. They would not be able to run or move swiftly, if they had to, if they had the yaks and equipment with them. The area could be explored for the next 2-3 days, by keeping the stone hut as a base camp. The yaks could be allowed to graze near the stone hut, and would be returned inside at night. The yak boys would stay back. Sangye split up the rest of the group. He decided that he would proceed ahead with Yeshe, on foot, and with the

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mastiffs. They would walk up the trail that climbed up sharply. Katishe and Satawa would watch the trail as Sangye and Yeshe walked. They would be able to notice if there was any movement on the rock walls or from within the forest areas, behind Sangye and Yeshe. Katishe and Satawa would follow Sangye and Yeshe, allowing for an hours distance between them and would repeat the same watchful procedure. This cautious approach would allow them to keep a watch on the trail behind them. Katishe and Satawa agreed with the plan. They knew of the wisdom of the old nomad from Qinhai and knew that he had survived many a dangerous trail. Both of them, Katishe and Satawa, themselves, were veterans, and yet they knew it was sensible to be cautious in these regions. They did not know the area ahead of them, and it would be a slow exploration, to allow for a proper approach to the trail. Yeshe had removed the stones at the doorway. The yaks were moved out into the valley and allowed to graze. The mastiffs went out, happy to be allowed to run about. Yeshe and the two yak boys went outside and moved around, watching, carefully. Sangye, Katishe and Satawa came out of the stone hut, and sat quietly. The fog had not lifted, and it was light enough to watch the trail for some distance. The old men sat, watching the trail. Nothing seemed to move. Even the birds were silent. The fog was quite cold, and the yaks were shivering. The yak boys walked around, picking up the yak dung and taking them back into the stone hut. They would decide about drying the dung if it was safe to do so. The mastiffs hid their morning sign well. They had been

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trained to do so, by Sangye, who knew the danger of leaving an open sign, a welcome to predators. By 10 am, the fog had lifted completely, and they could see the path to the upper trail. It seemed like a natural gateway to an unknown valley. The path climbed up steadily and disappeared into the horizon. They were at a lower point from the place where the path went into the valley that they could not see. Sangye and Yeshe picked up their bags and began to walk ahead. The mastiffs kept watching them, to see if they would return, and began to follow them. Katishe and Satawa kept watching the forests and the rock walls nearby. The yak boys moved the yaks closer to the doorway to the stone hut. They could go inside quickly if required. Katishe asked the yak boys to prepare a door for the stone hut that could be propped up during the daytime. It had to be heavy, he told them. The boys began to search for and pick up heavy logs and pulled them to the doorway. The lower logs were placed across the doorway, high enough for the yaks to manage to walk above them. The logs were supported by stones piled up against them, on either side, inside and outside. Other logs were kept inside with stones ready to be piled up against them, from the inside. The boys kept brush and branches near the doorway on the outside that could be pulled from within to create a cover across the doorway. Katishe watched the preparation and the valley alternatively. Satawa did not look away from the trail and kept watching Sangye and Yeshe. There did not seem to be any disturbance in the valley. Sangye had told them about old man Dawa going out on his own in

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the night. They knew him from many years and knew that the old man was probably safe out there. He may be up in the rocky walls, or on the trail, or in a cave that he may have discovered, and may be watching them from somewhere. Satawa looked all around the valley and waved. Dawa may see him and he would probably wave back. Sangye spoke to Yeshe, This may just be the entrance to the Kingdom of the Lion as we knew about it, or heard about it. Many people have searched for it. The trail is certainly moving in the correct direction from the Kang Renpoche valleys. We are moving north and northwestwards. We seem to be moving more to the north than northwest, and we have not left the group of mountains of the Kang Renpoche. It is said that there is a sleeping lion under this ground that rests on an enormous bed of water that cannot be seen. Yeshe kept watching the trail and the forests on either side. He was excited. The forests seemed to be changing as the trail kept climbing. They looked behind them, and waved at Katishe and Satawa. They could see them at that great distance. The trail had climbed sharply, and very soon, it would go through the opening in the valley wall. They would not be able to see the stone hut behind them. How can it be the Kingdom of the Lion, out here, in the Himalayas? he asked, for there are no lions here, and of all the stories that I have heard, there were no lions in these regions. Could it be a mythical story after all? Sangye nodded, as if in agreement, and replied, Yes. It could be a story, for there are many stories in

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this region. Some stories that I have heard say that the water comes out from the mouth of a lion, and some stories say that the lion is resting on a bed of water. So, we do not know. But, for sure, nobody in recent times, have actually seen the lion or the lions mouth or the bed of water. Yeshe asked, But, isnt there a Lion River from this region? Could the river be named from the Kingdom of the Lion and could it have originated from this region? There were some groups at the Dirapuk monastery, a few years ago, who kept talking about such a river. They had given up their search due to the severe unseasonal winter-like months at that time. Sangye nodded, remembering the group. They had only been in search of information. They had not seemed to be fit enough to travel inside the higher mountains. Yes. This path certainly looked like it was moving towards the place with the story of the Kingdom of the Lion. He looked back at the stone hut, and saw that Katishe and Satawa had begun to walk on the trail, following them. He knew of the Seng Tsanplo River from its northward flow, beyond the Kang Renpoche valley. The Seng Tsanplo River was also called the Lion River.

***

He had been walking for more than four hours, steadily, and climbing, through the forests that he had seen from the stone hut. Old man Dawa was surprised at the ease with which he had been walking through the forest. This

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was certainly an old ancient path, made smooth by years of passage. He had not even stumbled on any pebble or stone. The path had not been blocked by any bushy tree or bamboo or foliage. He had not been able to see within the forest canopy during the dawn hours. But, the expert trailsman that he was, he knew that there were no animals out here. By 11 am, he had reached the upper limits of the forest line and he could see through the canopy and could look out at the boxed in valley. From up here, he could see the stone hut, the river of boulders that they had walked through, and could see the trail that climbed up, northwards. Old man Dawa sat quietly, watching the valley. He saw the yaks and the yak boys near the stone hut. He could see Sangye and Yeshe walk up on the northwards trail, with the two mastiffs following them. He saw Katishe and Satawa walk at an hours distance behind Sangye and Yeshe. He was startled at the clear vision that he had of the valley from the spot that he sat upon. If he could see so clearly, other animals and humans, hidden in this valley could also see them. Any animal or person sitting here, yesterday, could have seen the arrival of the Beyul exploration team. They would have been warned. The alert wild yaks, if they were indeed here, would have moved out of this valley. He had not seen any trail or sign of any animal during his walk through the forest. Old man Dawa got up from his spot and continued to walk westwards. The opening came up on the trail suddenly. The corners of the boxed in valley at the western corner were more of

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a fold that hid the opening. The valley turned inside a narrow fold that took him through the forest canopy. It became dark for some distance, and if he would not have understood the feel and recognised the touch of the trail on his feet, he would not have been able to locate the opening. He could feel the smooth trail in the dark canopy, and he continued to walk through the gap. By noon, the dark opening had led old man Dawa to a broader forest, and with more sunlight streaming inside the canopy. He turned on the trail that he had come through and could not see the boxed-in valley that he had traveled from. The opening to the valley from this path seemed to be equally hidden in. He picked up some signs on the rock walls, the ridges and markings on the slopes to identify the opening through which the path had come. It was difficult, and it would have been impossible for a novice trekker or even an expert mountaineer. Old man Dawa was sharper than either, and he knew enough to pick out and identify faint stone ridges that would help him return to this place. Having marked the location, he turned back to the trail, and continued to walk inside this hidden valley. The path seemed to be clearing up, and he was suddenly near the edge of the forest. He could see an open plateau outside. It seemed to be more like a high altitude pasture land. There was plenty of grass here, and it seemed quite tall, but not tall enough to hide a yak, he thought. Old man Dawa was cautious. He did not step out of the forest. He stood against some bamboo and a very large tree. Making an opening into the bamboo clump, he went inside and made some space for himself. He hid his

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haversack and stout stick inside the clump and covered them with bamboo leaves. He sat quietly, on his haversack, not making any movement. There was no sign of any animal in the grassland. Slowly, he took out his lunch packet, and ate it quietly. He had a bottle of water with him, and he drank from it. He knew this game quite well. This was the beginning of the game of patience. He knew that there was something out there in this grassland plateau, hidden inside this closed valley. He would wait and would wait and wait. He had played out the waiting game at many a hunt. He knew that there would always be animals in any valley, and if they could not be seen, it would only mean that they were very alert. Old man Dawa certainly did not want to walk into an angry wild yak out here. He must have sat inside the bamboo clump for more than an hour. Suddenly, his right palm began to itch furiously. He kept scratching it silently, and watched the plains, extremely alert. There was something out there, he knew. Where was it? From his place inside the bamboo clump, old man Dawa could see the entire grassland plateau. The mountain walls were all around the grassland. There was a forest line around the plateau. That could be a problem, Dawa thought, for the forest could hide any other path, if there was, and animals could be moving through the valley to other valleys nearby. The strangest aspect of the valley was that he could not see any animal. There should have been Chiru and mountain goats here. The lush grassland should have been a temptation. What was he sensing? If there were

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no animals here, why was his right palm itching so badly, wondered Dawa. There was something out here. It was bright sunlight on the grassland and he could see the entire plateau. Maybe it was not something on the grassland, thought Dawa. Maybe he would have to examine the forest that went around the plateau. Quietly, without any movement, Dawa kept searching the forest line around the grassland. There was no movement. He wondered if he should risk it and walk into the grassland. He decided against it. That trail of the lone wild yak had been very recent in the night. For, it had not been covered with dew or water. If it would have been more than a day, the track would have been covered with water from the night mist or morning dew. It had been extremely clear and sharp. There! Suddenly, old man Dawa saw the movement. It was the strangest of all movements. Not certainly what he had been searching for. It was like a white blanket inside the forest beyond the grassland facing him. A white blanket like form had moved inside the forest area in front of him. He kept watching the spot. He could not see it any longer. He was happy, however, for he knew what he had to search for. He had been searching for large black forms, shapes of Chiru, and shapes of mountain goats. He started looking deep inside the forest ahead, beyond the grassland, for a white shape. What was it? Some sacred spirits of the valley? Could spirits be seen in the daytime? He had never heard of such a being. To the best of his knowledge and memory, of all the stories that he had heard of these regions, the spirits and demons usually came out at night. Perhaps,

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this was where they came to rest, inside these secluded valleys, away from all disturbances. He kept watching the forest keenly. There it was, again, a white blanket like form, floating inside the forest. It kept moving, inside the canopy, and came to rest near a group of thin trees. Old man Dawa kept staring at the white blanket-like shape. It did not move. It seemed to be waiting, watching the grassland. As he kept staring at the white shape, Dawa began to figure it out. The left edge of the blanket seemed to taper downwards and there was a definite shape to it. Suddenly, a rope-like white cord whisked out from below and moved about. That was definitely a tail, a white tail, Dawa realised, excitedly. That white blanket was not a blanket, or a spirit, or a demon, he told himself, happily. It was a white animal, very large, and huge. Dawa was excited. Now that he knew how to figure it out, he began to make out the rest of the shape. The right edge of the white blanket, naturally led to its head, and as he kept watching for the head to take shape, Dawa trembled. He shivered, actually. For, as he kept watching, the animal began to become clearer. It was a white animal. Very huge. The head began to take shape, and Dawa marveled at it. It was an extremely large head, and the horns were enormous. It was, indeed, a huge male yak. It was definitely not a black yak. This one was an enormous, larger than most yaks he had known, and perhaps, just perhaps, larger than the herd of large wild yaks that he had seen during the rainstorm, with Brother Tameng, near the Choku monastery. This animal, hiding out there, in the forest beyond the grassland, was an

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enormous white male yak, alone, waiting and watching and waiting. Excited, and yet, calm, Dawa told himself, he could also wait.

IX

It had been an entire since they had met the senior monk at the Chiu Gompa. Vijay Kulkarni had decided to stay back at the monastery. Himanshu and Paramita had gone ahead with the tourist group. The senior monk had spoken with the tour guide leader and requested him to allow Vijay Kulkarni to stay at the Chiu Gompa. The tour guide had been worried and wondered about the excuse that he would have to give at Nyalam when he would return with the other pilgrims. It would be five days yet, for anyone to notice that Vijay had gone missing from the group. Vijay was very happy to have stayed back at the Chiu Gompa. It was not usual for non-Tibetan and nonBuddhist or Bon to stay overnight at the Chiu Gompa, unless there was a storm or an unexpected situation. Tibetan pilgrims seemed to be staying back, in their entire aspect of eternal timelessness. Their pilgrimage around Manasarovar or Mount Kailash seemed to be without any time-bound deadlines. They traveled with meagre resources and did not have any support system. They depended entirely on the local monasteries and would just walk in, knowing that they would not be turned away. They made themselves at home, helping, cleaning and cooking at the Chiu Gompa, and one of

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them brought a bowl of moderately pungent noodle soup. One of the windows at the Chiu Gompas main prayer hall overlooked a spectacular panorama of the Manasarovar and the mountains that could be seen beyond the great lake. He could see the tremendously awe-inspiring landscape. The distant mountains across the waters of the Manasarovar seemed to be just standing there, suspended in the clouds. The senior monk came up to stand alongside Vijay and looked out of the window. He kept watching silently, soaking in the nippy air that came from the great lake. I am known by several titles in the sacred order, but knowing that you are from India, from a land that I love so dearly, you may call me as Loga of the Kla-Chu, for that is how I was known. The senior monk said, My native village is a very small and remote one, deep in the valleys where several Himalayan streams come together to flow into the Indus. The Kla-Chu is also one of them, and our village moves about, depending on the availability of good grazing lands above and below. It was beautiful land and the people are extremely innocent and trusting. My parents decided that I should go away from the valley and make my future. Vijay smiled and thanked the senior monk, and said, I am Vijay Kulkarni, from Pune in India. I am from Maharashtra. I have traveled over many regions in the Himalayas, but I am yet to go to the source of the Indus. The actual source is supposed to be unknown, but the many mountain streams that come in to give the great river its strength are spread over a great area. Is the Kla-

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Chu somewhere in the upper reaches before the Indus gains in its strength or is it after it reaches some of the upper plains? Are there any monasteries in that region? The senior monk replied, I heard that someone had gone up into the inner valleys, some of the most unknown and secret ones, and he had gone up there with our monks. The exact details are not known as yet, but they came out and said that they had been to the actual source of the great river. They had gone up from Banggokong, and they had walked through several springs of Himalayan streams. Do you know that if you want to walk in search of the actual source, as we think it should be at, among all our local villages, we would have to go somewhere close to the northern reaches of the Mount Kailash kora, probably somewhere north of Dirapuk. North of Dirapuk! exclaimed Vijay. He was thinking it out, scanning the maps in his memory and his knowledge of the region from the many travelogues and books that he had studied in his explorations into the Mount Kailash region. He said, There are none. There are no valleys that lead out of Dirapuk to the north. There is one, but it does not go anywhere. There cannot be any continuity outside the kora. If there were, then the great rivers of the world would not have existed at all. They would have flowed into the valley of the sacred mountain and would have submerged the great lake of Manasarovar. There would have been no Chiu Gompa or Choku Gompa. The valley of the kora is a natural drainage. Is it not?

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The senior monk of Chiu Gompa nodded, Yes. Come, let me show you an artists illustration of what he saw once, in the harsh winter, when he had to stay back at the Chiu Gompa. This must have been painted nearly 150 years ago or 100 years at least. We do not know for sure. He gestured for Vijay to accompany him to one of the paintings that were on the wall near the window. It was an illustrative representation of the Kailash kora as it was nowadays, almost. The senior monk pointed out to a darkish line, broken at places, drawn on the valley slopes, and said, See that line. I feel that must have been a drainage mark for the winter ice that would melt and flood the valley. Nobody would have seen the flooding of the kora, unless someone stayed back or was trapped in the valley. You are all lucky, said Vijay, the upper slopes are smooth and have been removed of their boulders and stones. There are no major landslides in the valley of the kora during monsoon or winter. There are no glaciers threatening the valley. But, if you look at the great lake of Manasarovar, the Rakshas Lake and the valley inbetween these two big water bodies, you can guess at the landslides that must have occurred. Those big boulders have come here and settled. Some are as big and tall as the Chiu Gompa itself. We are not so lucky at my village, for the monsoon and winter is part of our lives. Our families and their settlements move to the lower plains in the monsoon and winter. What are the lower plains, do you know? the senior monk asked, and continued, The lower plains are much higher than Ladakh or your Uttarakhand. For us, it is as far as we can escape. Thats all. My grandfather

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who had gone in search of the source of the great river had said that old stories spoke about the place as the lion that roared and allowed the river to flow from its mouth. It must have been due to the great sound that the mountain streams create when they flow through the deep valleys. Vijay was trying to picture the flooding of the valley of the kora in the winter, and he did not wish to look impolite to the senior monk who was explaining about the valleys of his village and the mountain streams in those locations. He was wondering if the two different perspectives would converge and there was something significant in this discussion with the senior monk. He spoke to the senior monk, If it was to be the lion that roared, I think it would be very specific to a single location. There has to be an absolutely single location from where the most logical source of the great river would emerge. But, I agree with you, that there must have been untimely flooding of the valley of the kora, perhaps once in fifty or hundred years. Yes. My grandfather said that he had indeed been to such a place. the senior monk replied, He had gone with some of the elders from our village and escorted the monks from the Gompa nearby. They spoke about it for some years later, and the monks made a record of the place that they had seen. The parchments and the map and sketches have been kept as a secret for fear that people from other lands or people from ours who would not respect the sacred aspect would go in and destroy the place. The great river is born from our lands, as are the other great rivers from all around the sacred valleys of the Mount Kailash, as you call it. We have many names

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and we have names for all the various valleys and springs. Vijay was intrigued. This conversation was being spoken in a very deliberate manner, he thought. The senior monk did not seem to be as dispassionate or as confusing as he thought him to be. He just had a different manner of explaining a point. Vijay asked, Are those parchments, maps and sketches kept in your village or in the nearby Gompa? Who would take care of them? Have you seen them? Do those sketches show the Mount Kailash in the region of the source of the great Indus River? Have you gone to explore those secret valleys? The senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu as he wanted to be called, replied, No, my friend, Vijay, I was not able to walk to the Lion and have not seen the mouth of the Lion. All those parchments, maps and sketches were kept carefully by the monks from the local Gompa. When they knew that I had become a senior monk, they gave the entire set to me for safekeeping. I have those maps, drawn in our style, with the names of those places in our languages. It is in our concept of north or south, not like yours. But, they retain the key to many of the mysteries of this land. Would you like to see these parchments and the maps? You may be interested to, no?

***

The monk from Dirapuk sat quietly, immersed in his prayers, deep into his meditative trance. He did not seem

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disturbed at all with the developments and their current situation. Norbu sat at a distance, watching the monk in his meditation. He knew about meditation and prayers, but had never tried anything like that himself. His mastiff sat nearby, content and happy to be at peace, without tourists or pilgrims. He did not have to chase after the two yaks if they would amble about away from the tracks. There were no tracks here. The two boys, one was a yak-boy and the other a horse-boy, sat near their animals and were busy preparing some sort of a meal. They had set up a shelter alongside the mountain amidst some closely fallen boulders. The yaks and horse could be hidden inside the boulders if there would be need. Norbu was uncertain about himself. Was he excited? Or, was he worried that he may have stumbled on to some series of events that would not concern him? His parents, back at Darchen, had sent him alone, because they needed the money that he would bring them. What sort of money would he make on this expedition? Was he being honest with the faith that his parents had placed on him? The monk from Dirapuk had completed with his prayers and meditation and had been quietly watching Norbu and understanding the lines of concern that were obvious on his face. He did not say anything. These were situations that were brought about by forces that were greater than what one could wish for or wish against. To each, was their fate to fight with or against these forces? Norbu would learn from such situations. He would be wiser in the future, and would be able to face these situations or other complex ones in his life, in later years.

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At that moment, Brother Tameng accompanied by a horse and a horse-boy came out of the concealed passage within the landslide of boulders. The monk from Dirapuk stood up and greeted Brother Tameng warmly. The horse-boy went up to the other two boys and got busy in their work for he was desperately hungry. Norbu helped the three boys with gathering up fodder and firewood. Brother Tameng and the monk from Dirapuk were in some serious discussion. Norbu went up to them with two hot bowls of soup and noodles. The other boys also brought up their bowls nearer and sat around them, expectant to hear what was to happen. Brother Tameng described the trail that led into the landslide of boulders and explained about the clearing and the darker trail that had been ahead. He explained that he had felt disturbed that there were forces ahead that may not desire to be intruded upon. He had come out of the trail and further explained that he would return to Choku Gompa to seek the advice and guidance of Master Rinchen. He would know about what was to be done. The monk from Dirapuk agreed with Brother Tameng. The two monks decided that they would return to Dirapuk and onwards to Choku Gompa to meet Master Rinchen. Norbu, his two yaks and mastiff would also accompany them, in case they would send any material or other people to the hidden valley. The monk from Dirapuk instructed the three boys to stay at the opening to the landslide of boulders. He assured them that he would send supplies, food and warm clothing from Dirapuk. The boys agreed to wait at the spot, for they

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had set up a comfortable camp and they were used to this manner of life. The two monks and Norbu walked out of the hidden valley down the sloping path towards the Dirapuk monastery. Norbu was happy that the events had resolved some of his doubts. He would at least be returning to the Choku Gompa, and could easily walk back to Darchen and meet his parents. The monk from Dirapuk noticed Norbus happiness and smiled and thought, it is true... for one has to merely live in the present, and not worry about events that have passed ahead or those events that are to come. They came up to the eating house run by Sangye and Yeshes parents. The monk from Dirapuk took some time in explaining the run of events. Yeshes parents did not seem to be worried, for they knew that Sangye was the very best in this region, and he could be trusted not to be foolishly heroic. They served a hot meal to the two monks and Norbu and provided some food packets for their onward journey towards the Choku Gompa. Norbu became happier and happier, for as a trail helper to the tourists, he had to depend on leftovers or the food that he would cook for himself. Nobody had ever welcomed him to their places and had never served him hot food. The monk from Dirapuk separated from them and said that he would go up to his monastery and inform the progress of the expedition to his brother monks and organise to send a support party to the opening of the valley. They would carry food and other necessities to the yak and horse boys who they had left behind. The support party could travel back and forth. He would join

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them at Choku Gompa or at Darchen if they would not have returned early. Happy that the necessary arrangements would be made by the Dirapuk monks, Brother Tameng started on the walk back to Choku Gompa with Norbu. They arrived at the Choku Gompa in good spirit, sheltered in the shadow of the sacred Kang Renpoche, the Mount Kailash. Norbu and Brother Tameng silently recited their own prayers of thanks to Kang Renpoche and entered the monastery. Master Rinchen was visibly happy to see them and welcomed them. Norbu was made to feel special and one of the brother monks took him to rest at a room after having made arrangements for his two yaks and his mastiff. He was given an open shed that was almost like a lean-to against the walls of the monastery. It was sheltered against the wind, and the yaks could feed upon stored fodder near the shed. Norbus mastiff however had different ideas, and managed to curl up alongside his master. Brother Tameng explained in detail about the happenings at Dirapuk and later at the valley. The brother monks and Master Rinchen listened eagerly. Master Rinchen was happy, and said, At least we know that there is a path. We did not imagine all those events. You have seen the footmarks of the herd of giant wild yak. I am happy. I thought that these were sacred visions being disclosed to us in the valley of Kang Renpoche. We do not know what this means, but I can now plan ahead and we can determine the future course of action. There is a wise monk at the Chiu Gompa. He had spoken of many mysterious events that he knew about in

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the valleys to the north of the kora of the Kang Renpoche. I have met him on several occasions. I will talk to him on the cell phone. Master Rinchen said, He had handed over many drawings and sketches and other rare artifacts to the sacred Gyangdrak Gompa near Darchen. Brother Tameng, do take some rest for a while. Let me talk to the senior monk at Chiu Gompa and we will plan to meet at the Gyangdrak Gompa. Brother Tameng went out in search of Norbu and found him in the shed, fast asleep. The mastiff had gotten used to Brother Tameng and therefore did not growl or bark at him. Brother Tameng had a comfortable place to sleep at the monks dormitory at the Chiu Gompa, but he wanted to stay humble, for Norbu was a member of his team, and he could not take on comforts, if his team member did not have any. In any case, the shed looked quite comfortable. He spread out his mattress and went off to sleep, covered in a bunch of warm blankets. His brother monks came out to watch this strange comradeship and smiled in understanding. Master Rinchen had completed his telephone conversation with the senior monk at Chiu Gompa. The senior monk had not been surprised at all. He spoke of someone called Vijay who was staying with him and had seen strange visions and their conversation about the valley of the Lions Mouth. This was strange, the senior monk had said. They had been discussing the same valleys. He would come over to Gyangdrak Gompa and they would be able to have a look at the ancient maps, drawings and sketches done by his grandfather.

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Norbu and Brother Tameng were woken up and asked to get ready to go to Darchen. Norbu could meet his parents and explain to them about his adventures. Brother Tameng and Master Rinchen would hire a new group of yaks and horses and pick up supplies, including much needed food supplies. They would go ahead to Gyangdrak Gompa from Darchen. They would have to be careful about the policemen at Darchen who may wonder if something suspicious was happening, for the monks of the three monasteries to meet up suddenly. Norbu was truly happy now. He had not thought it possible that he would meet his parents so early. They would be happy to see him.

***

Hariram Maharaj was fascinated with what he had heard from the two pilgrims from the Karakul Lake and the Kongur mountains. He had never known that there were similar mountains, as sacred as the Mount Kailash, and that ancient peoples considered both Kongur and Kailash as continuity. How could that be possible? As a devout Indian, and as devotees from other religions, everyone knew that Mount Kailash, or Kang Renpoche, was the final destination in faith. This was the ashtapada and this sacred valley of the kora was the most sought after pilgrimages in many religions. But, as the two pilgrims had explained, everyone comes to Mount Kailash and return. Very few come here to stay. It could certainly be possible, thought Hariram Maharaj. There were villages here that did not move during the

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winter. There were ancient nomads and herdsmen who lived out in the open pasturelands in the winter. There were mountain hamlets that could secure themselves and be able to live through the winter. Devotees and pilgrims who came in from India, Nepal and other Hindu, Buddhist and Jain lands would most certainly return after their pilgrimage. Tibetan pilgrims, Buddhist or Bon, would also prefer to return, but they did manage to do a leisurely journey and would not be chased away by the police. This was not like Lhasa, he thought. The two pilgrims had had a profound impact on Hariram Maharaj. He felt that he had been wasting his life, living as a fugitive at Shiquanhe. He had settled in to the landscape, and could speak Tibetan very fluently and he dressed as one. Nobody could make him out unless they had to speak to him for a longer period of time. He should get started on his goal of completing the 108 koras and it could only begin if he were to be closer to Mount Kailash. He would have to bid goodbye to Luo Tsering, at least for the moment, and move ahead to Darchen. Hariram Maharaj explained his dilemma to Luo Tsering, who heard him out patiently. He had known that this day would come, and he had been ready for it. He was fond of Hariram Maharaj and he did not want this gentle cook and expert of everything there was to be known about India and their strange vegetarians. How could there be people who did not eat meat, was an eternal puzzle to Luo Tsering. He spoke to Hariram Maharaj, Go if you must, because I know that you dearly want to begin on your goal of completing the 108 koras. There is nothing wrong about it. Everyone knows you around here, and

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you are spoken about even at Darchen. The policemen know you. It is you who think that you are successful at hiding yourself. They know that you are not a criminal or a spy. I am afraid, Brother, said Hariram Maharaj, I am afraid of the cold. I can suffer it here at Shiquanhe, because I am inside the eatery and always stand near the hot stove. I also sleep near the stove. But, I am not known at Darchen in the manner of a pilgrim. I will have to stay at Darchen for many years now in order to complete my goal of 108 koras. I need to get a job while I am at Darchen. Later, during the harsh winter, I want to travel back to Shiquanhe in the initial years, and be with you. You are my only family here in Tibet. Luo Tsering smiled, for he knew that Hariram Maharaj was terrified of the cold and the winter in Tibet. The pull of the sacred Kang Renpoche was very strong. HE decides about who will go into HIS shelter, and who will stay away. He said, O Brother from India, you are a good man. You have a good heart. I know that you are totally shaken up by the stories of the two pilgrims who have come from an ancient land in Tibet, west of Ngari. But, my brother, this is Tibet, and we are in the most ancient lands of Tibet. Who knows what exists out there in the mountains between Kang Renpoche and Kongur and the Pamirs? Go if you must. But, you are always welcome here. The two pilgrims from the ancient lands had been hearing all this discussion. The elder pilgrim smiled, and said, You are correct, O Master of this eatery. Who knows how the sacred mountains call you. They are

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everywhere. These mountains are living beings. They have noble souls within them. Countless numbers of noble people, sages, saints and seers have come to these mountains and have disappeared within them. Today, we are in a nation where law and order is visible. This was not the case, at least, about 3-4 decades ago. Many sages and noble souls have stayed back. After having bid a tearful farewell to Luo Tsering and his wife, and the other friends that he had made at Shiquanhe, Hariram Maharaj begged a request ride with one of the pilgrim vehicles that were going back to Darchen after the storm. The drivers knew him and never thought that he was something of an illegal traveler in the Mount Kailash area. They had always seen him at Shiquanhe and never thought him to be an outsider. Luo Tsering had spoken of a family that also had an eatery at Darchen and supplied equipment, yaks and horses to the pilgrim groups. He had suggested that if Hariram Maharaj were to say that he had come from Luo Tsering, he would be able to get a job as a cook at the Darchen eatery. Luo Tsering had explained that the family was from a hamlet near Shiquanhe, and their elderly father stayed at their farm. Their daughters took care of their yak herd at Shiquanhe and they were well known in the town and in the villages nearby. The couple that ran the eatery at Darchen had settled in well with the trade of the pilgrims from Europe, India and Nepal. They maintained yaks and horses and had employed a number of boys to take the pilgrims around the kora. In fact, Luo Tsering had added, their son, Norbu, was also a yak-boy and he was well known in the kora. For all one knew, Norbu must

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have done the entire kora for more than 50 times as part of his job. Hariram Maharaj arrived at Darchen soon enough and, after enquiry with the locals, found Norbus parents and their eatery. The couple was very happy to know that someone had come all the way from Shiquanhe, specifically in search of them. They knew Luo Tsering and his eatery, and appreciated the fact that Hariram Maharaj was an exclusive vegetarian cook and that he was proud of his skills. They needed someone like him, and agreed with him that he could work at their eatery and stay inside the place at night, warm, near the stove. That was very practical. He had asked them about their son, for he was very interested in meeting him. More than 50 koras? Wow. That was something. He had yet to start on his 108 koras. Norbus parents had said that he was on the kora with a very rich and large pilgrim group. They had hired nearly fifteen yaks and ten horses, and were cooking their own food, Indian vegetarian food, of course, while stopping at each place on the path. They had seen the group earlier in the morning at Darchen and had been told that Norbu had stopped at the Dirapuk monastery and would be returning later with the monks from Dirapuk. Hariram Maharaj was happy. He was where he wanted to be. From any place at Darchen, if he would turn around, he could see the most sacred Ashtapada, the Kailas Parbat, or the Kang Renpoche. The Darchen eatery was more comfortable than the one at Shiquanhe. This was an actual brick and mortar building, and

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warmer than Luo Tserings open shed. There were more pilgrims moving around here, having come from several routes. The local yak boys and the horse boys and the porters seemed to have more money to spend at the eatery. Norbus parents had given an empty room, a small one, next to their eatery and had helped him to furnish the place with their extra stove, benches, carpets, wall hangings, utensils and firewood. From morning to noon, the vegetarian eatery had been made ready. A local signboard painter had got it all ready, announcing the 100% all-vegetarian Hindu food and including mention that one could get Gujarati Punjabi South Indian Bengali vegetarian Hindu food only. Hariram Maharaj was happy. He had never thought it possible that he would be in demand in the shadow of the sacred Kang Renpoche. The next day, Norbus parents had exclaimed happily and were pointing towards the Yamdwar, Yamas entrance, a place where the pilgrims started on their kora. Except, their parents said, that something must be wrong, because their son was returning from Choku Gompa, with two monks, and they were all walking comfortably, with the two yaks and the mastiff following them. Norbu was not following behind the monks as one would normally do, but he was walking along with them and talking to them, actually talking to them, and they were all joking and laughing. Norbus parents explained to Hariram Maharaj that something must have drastically gone wrong. All these years, Norbu had never returned without having completed the kora. But, he was actually

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returning along the path where nobody would dare return unless dead or seriously unwell.

***

Norbu and Brother Tameng sat at the newly decorated vegetarian section of the eatery and stretched themselves. Some of the other boys took care of Norbus two yaks, while his mother fed his mastiff with some fresh meat broth. Norbus parents sat with Brother Tameng and heard the entire story of the events of the valley over the past three days and nights. Hariram Maharaj stood near the warm stove, cooking a meal for everyone. He was tremendously excited. His first day at Darchen, and it seemed to be filled with aspects of adventure. Brother Tameng explained about the twelve pilgrims in the stone circle, and the visit by the herd of large wild yaks accompanied by the wolves. He spoke about the meeting at Dirapuk and the expedition to the valley beyond the monastery. Hariram Maharaj was happy, gleefully happy, at all these unexplained happenings. This was what he had come in search of. He was excited to hear about the monks and trackers who had made a team to go into the secret valley. Beyul, they called it. Whatever be the name, imagine a secret valley that was even hidden from the kora in the sacred region. This could be the reason why he had managed to reach upto Darchen, he thought.

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Norbu kept interrupting, with instances and events that he wanted Brother Tameng to explain. He had been feeling guilty about having left the group of pilgrims that he was supposed to help on their kora, and he did wonder if his father would scold him after the departure of Brother Tameng to the Choku Gompa. To continue with the description of the events, Norbu asked Brother Tameng to explain about the hidden valley and the boulders. Brother Tameng hesitated. He did not know anything about Hariram Maharaj. This strange looking, almost Tibetan looking, Indian was not supposed to be privileged to know about the Beyul or whatever. If they would get to know about it, who knows, about 10,000 pilgrims could start coming to the valley of Kang Renpoche, or Mount Kailash, to visit and wander about the secret valley above Dirapuk. He decided to change the subject, until he knew more about the vegetarian cook who seemed to have been adopted by Norbus parents. He spoke about the possibility that the hidden valley could lead them to the mouth of the lion. This could probably be the source of the Indus River. They certainly knew of the Lungdep Chu, the river from the Kang Renpoche valley that flowed into the mighty Indus. The source of the Lungdep Chu River was quite close to Darchen. The only way to reach the source of the Lungdep Chu was to walk for at least two days, if one had a bit of equipment and yaks and horses. Brother Tameng kept talking of the possibility of the Lungdep Chu emerging from the area near Darchen and flowing through the hidden valley of the large wild yaks.

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Hariram Maharaj did not understand the geography and the distances between the places at Kang Renpoche. But, he loved to hear about all these mysteries. He had once met some Swedes who had come to Shiquanhe with tremendous amounts of equipment. Some of their stuff had been discarded at Luo Tserings eatery and Hariram Maharaj had kept the really good thermal stuff for his own use. The leader of the expedition from Sweden had also gifted Hariram Maharaj with snow walking sticks, thermal gloves and balaclavas. He was just about ready to even walk through the inner kora to find out how the twelve pilgrims could have disappeared by themselves. Those Swedes had been mentioning about some search to some place that they kept referring to as the Lions Valley. Hariram Maharaj had been excited and happy to talk to them, since he came from Gujarat and it was the home of the Lion in India. This secret valley that Brother Tameng was speaking about, it could be the mysterious and unknown Lions Valley, he thought. How could he reach that valley? He had to simply go to this spot and see for himself and travel without any deadlines or return schedules. Brother Tameng explained to Norbus parents that the most important concern now was to send food, supplies, equipment, blankets and tenting material to the people who were exploring the valley. Nobody had expected that it would turn out to be a longer expedition, and one could not withdraw or fail in this journey just because there were no supplies. As he explained, what if the expedition took more days and months and was trapped in the secret valley in the winter? It would be better to be

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prepared and with more than adequate supplies. He suggested that the entire support could be organised by Norbus parents. They would be paid for the material that they would supply. Master Rinchen had sent some money with him, he assured. Would Norbu go back with to the secret valley, Brother? asked Norbus mother, anxiously. Brother Tameng smiled and said that it would not be without him. He had promised Master Rinchen and he would similarly promise Norbus parents that the boy would be in his care. It was good to be with Norbu, he told his parents, for he was a good boy and was very intelligent and knew his way around in these mountains. He was good to his yaks and his mastiff trusted him and was very loyal to him. No, He said, Norbu and his two yaks and mastiff would come with me, for I go to the inner kora, to Gyangdrak Gompa. My two brother monks have gone ahead to the sacred place, and they are trying to understand the knowledge available here about the beyuls. Norbu smiled, for he was also wondering if this was the end of the adventure for him, since he had returned to his parents eatery. His only worry had been that his parents would have been frightened for they would have been expecting his return to Darchen with the pilgrims. Now that he had met them and that they knew of his well being, Norbu was eager to get back to the secret valley. He was happy to accompany Brother Tameng for he knew that the monk was entirely unlike the peaceful demeanor that he showed to others.

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Norbus father went out to collect some animals and boys to be sent to Dirapuk, while Norbus mother and Hariram Maharaj busied themselves with placing the necessities to be packed up. All equipment, food and supplies would be covered with thick plastic sheets, and would be covered once again, after they were loaded on to the yaks and horses. Norbus father had gathered up four yaks and two horses. Two yak-boys and one horseboy would go with them. He had chosen boys who knew the kora and animals that he had known to be steadfast in snow or rain. The entire group of animals and boys were soon on their way to the Yamadwar and onwards to Choku Gompa before going further to Dirapuk. Brother Tameng and Norbu got ready to go to Gyangdrak Gompa. Norbus two yaks were loaded up with supplies for the two, the monk and his new student. Hariram Maharaj had a sudden impulse. He spoke to Norbus father and sought his permission to go with Brother Tameng and Norbu to Gyangdrak Gompa and later, to the secret valley. He suggested that it would always better, as they would say in his Gujarat, that three people were always better than two. It would be good to be of help to the expedition, for he could cook and help with the silly tasks. It seemed like a big group was coming together, and who knew how many more monks would start from the Gyangdrak Gompa to go to see the secret valley. Norbus father was happy to allow his son and Brother Tameng to be helped by Hariram Maharaj. His son would be better protected in this strange expedition. After the severe storm, most of the pilgrim groups had not arrived at Darchen, and it was a slow business day.

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The situation would probably continue for a week, and it was possible that this entire crazy expedition would be over, and everyone would return from the secret valley that they were talking about. He did not want to intervene in something that his son was obviously happy with. He was in good company and this was not some travel that would result in ill-mannered behaviour with the helper boys who came along with the pilgrim groups. Hariram Maharaj requested permission to borrow a horse so that he could have help to carry his equipment and supplies. This was easily given by Norbus mother. She allowed the strange cook from India to borrow her own horse, for she knew that he was very docile and would walk obediently behind anyone in these hills. Very soon, Brother Tameng, Norbu and Hariram Maharaj were away, walking from Darchen towards the inner kora areas and on to Gyangdrak Gompa with their two yaks, one horse and Norbus mastiff. Brother Tameng was keen to meet up with his brother monks and was eager to find out about the information that they would have collected about the beyuls of the Kang Renpoche valleys and this sacred land.

***

Vijay Kulkarni had affirmed his interest in wanting to see the parchments, maps and sketches that were spoken about by the senior monk at Chiu Gompa. Loga of the Kla-Chu, as the senior monk was to be called, said, As I told you, I have not got to see the mouth of the Lion, but I do know that those documents will be able to tell

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you more about the location or the possible location. Perhaps, the time has come. Perhaps, this is the reason why I was not able to go to the secret valley that my grandfather spoke about. Do you really want to see those documents? Why? Should they not remain a secret? Should the location of the source of the Indus not remain a secret? Vijay nodded in agreement, and replied, You are correct that what is a secret is best served by being a secret. There are justified reasons as to why our ancients kept some matters to be hidden from the common view. This is one such reason. The sources of the rivers were always to be seen as a precious treasure. The rivers can be controlled in the valleys that give birth to it. Kings can rule their kingdoms wisely, or deny the water to other kingdoms. If allowed to be shared, it becomes a resource that can be restricted. In any which way, the source of the river is the fulcrum of a kingdom, its people and their king. The senior monk looked up at Vijay with new respect, and said, You speak wisely, my friend. You speak very wisely indeed. This is the treasure of the Himalayas, the upper Himalayas in Tibet. The Kang Renpoche is at the centre and holds the secrets to the treasures of the world. The greatest of the rivers, and many rivers there are, they emerge from the folds of the sacred mountain. Everyone, one and all, they think they know that such and such river starts its flow from such and such place. But, they do not. They do not know the exact source, or the exact valley. For, every river, at its source, has many streams that feed it. One does not know which stream or which valley is actually the cause of its birth.

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But, my friend, the parchments, maps and sketches and paintings are not here at Chiu Gompa, the senior monk said, I had kept all those documents in a protected box and I have placed them in the custody of the senior monk at Gyangdrak Gompa. They have many more such documents. The Gompa is at the entrance to the inner kora. Have you been to the inner kora? The Gyangdrak Gompa is at the very edge, and one can see the Kang Renpoche in all its glory from that very place. We will go to the Gyangdrak Gompa. Come, I will go with you. We will drive down to Darchen by one of the jeeps and then borrow horses to go to the Gompa. We will reach early. Vijay was excited to be on the move again. A chance to go to the Gyangdrak Gompa? Who would refuse? To be at the edge of the inner kora? How could one stay away? To be a guest at the Gompa for a couple of days, if I was lucky, he thought. This was it. The senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu, managed to get a lift on one of the pilgrim vehicles. It was a truck, and Vijay sat along with him and two helper boys from Nepal who had been hired to work with the pilgrim groups. They served them with hot tea from a thermos flask that they had. Vijay was blissful at the taste of the sugary milk-laden tea that he had, just like it was made in Pune, he thought to himself. At Darchen, the senior monk from the Chiu Gompa went about asking at the eateries for horses to be taken on hire to go to the Gyangdrak Gompa. There seemed to be a scarcity of horses, for most pilgrim groups would have taken them away on the kora. One of the yak-boys came

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up to them and explained that it would be best to ask the eatery run by the old couple from Shiquanhe, for they had many horses and yaks. Why, only today, the yakboy explained, the monk from Choku Gompa and a funny looking Indian and the Shiquanhe boy had gone in haste towards Gyangdrak Gompa. The old couple from Shiquanhe would definitely be able to help, the yak-boy said. At the eatery run by Norbus parents, to their surprise, the senior monk of Chiu Gompa and Vijay explained that they needed two horses to ride up to Gyangdrak Gompa. Norbus father expressed his curiosity and explained that there seemed to be quite a number of people going up to the Gyangdrak Gompa from the other monasteries. The Choku Gompa had sent two monks earlier, and now Brother Tameng had gone in with Norbu, his son, and Hariram Maharaj, a vegetarian cook from Gujarat in India. There was something happening in an exciting way, he suggested. Norbus parents described the events of the night at the Choku Gompa, of the twelve pilgrims who vanished, of the herd of giant wild yaks and the wild wolves and the expedition from Dirapuk to enter the hidden valley. As long as his son was safe, and more and more sensible men were involved in this matter, Norbus father had no hesitation in helping them out with horses and supplies. He assured them that he was certain that they would not be returning any day soon. He thought that they would be drawn into this adventure, and more and more, he was sure that they would be traveling for many days.

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Vijay and Loga of the Kla-Chu thought about Norbus father and his predictions as they rode up towards the Gyangdrak Gompa. This seemed to be getting exciting, and they were looking forward to being drawn into it. As Loga of the Kla-Chu, the senior monk of the Chiu Gompa told Vijay, Brother, as I told you, there is always a time and there is always a reason about why events happen when they do, and the manner in which they occur. Today, we are both witness to this amazing turn of situations and happenings. Let us see where they lead us. They arrived at the Gyangdrak Gompa, and noted the number of horses and yaks that were already gathered in an open shed. There were many visitors, Vijay thought. A junior monk had seen Loga of the Kla-Chu and knew him to be the senior monk at the Chiu Gompa. He rushed forward to welcome them and offered to take them to meet the venerable Nam Ang Tsering, for they were probably here for the meeting. In answer to an immediate query about the meeting, the junior monk replied that there were many monks and visitors from different lands who had been gathering here since yesterday and since that strange storm on the Kang Renpoche. Master Ang Tsering was not surprised to know that there were more visitors to the Gyangdrak Gompa. He welcomed them and requested them to join the group of other visitors. It was quite a team that had assembled here, and he was thankful to the sacred Kang Renpoche for making such a meeting possible, he said. There was Sardar Amarpal Singh, who wanted to walk inside the inner kora, and try to climb on the slopes, which was

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simply unthinkable. Along with him was Brother Sonam Sangye, the monk from the very sacred Nalanda. We are truly blessed, he said, smiling at Sangye. Escorting them both was the unexpected companion, Shenshe, the policeman from Shiquanhe. He was also welcome. Brother Shedrub Repa of the Gyangdrak Gompa introduced himself and introduced the two brother monks from the Choku Gompa, who had arrived earlier, with the first news about the twelve pilgrims who had vanished below the slopes of the Kang Renpoche. Brother Tameng was introduced by Master Ang Tsering who in turn spoke about Hariram Maharaj and Norbu. Shenshe look curiously at Hariram Maharaj, but kept his peace. Vijay Kulkarni and the senior monk from the Chiu Gompa, Loga of the Kla-Chu, introduced themselves. Brother Tameng retold the turn of events, for it was he who knew of what had happened on the slopes of the Choku Gompa. He described the rain and its intensity, of the strange group of twelve pilgrims who sat in the circle of stones. There was silence in the Gyangdrak Gompa, as the group heard about the herd of giant wild yaks and there was awe as they listened to the description about the wolves that were silent. Norbu spoke of what he had heard in the night at Dirapuk, and they explained, in turns, about the hidden valley behind the monastery. Sardar Amarpal Singh spoke of his vision during the stormy night and Vijay Kulkarni explained that he had had similar visions at the same time. Each one of them had been witnessing a part of the happening of that storm as they had gazed at the Kang Renpoche.

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Master Ang Tsering spoke about the sanctity of the Beyuls and the aspect of divinity of the mountains and lakes in this region. There was magic in the place, he said, as he had said earlier, and it was not in our power to seek the mystery. Events would happen, and the mist would lift by itself, as it did in these mountains. The senior monk of the Chiu Gompa, Loga of the Kla-Chu, explained that he had once deposited a set of maps, sketches and paintings about the valleys to the northwest of the Kang Renpoche. The answers could well be in those documents. This was the reason for him to travel from Chiu Gompa to the Gyangdrak Gompa.

Yeshe and Sangye kept walking up the trail. They had left the mastiffs at the campsite. By their sheer height, the mountains cast their shadows on other mountains. The shadows took on strange shapes and seemed to be following them, as they climbed up. Sangye pointed them out to Yeshe, and said, Look. Those are the guardians of this secret Beyul. The mountains are alive, and they send their warriors to guard this trail. If you stop and fight these warriors or question them, the mountains can destroy you. We should not get frightened by them. Let us keep walking without thinking of the guardians of these sacred mountains. Sangye continued, These strange guardians can attack you very badly inside your mind. I have known of many

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idiots who have entered the secret Beyuls without heeding the advice of the monks or elders. They have wandered inside these secret valleys for days or months or years and have not been able to return. Those who did return spoke of strange battles with the guardians of the trails. An old man from my village had returned after five years. The trail climbed sharply and in spite of years of mountain walking experience between the two veteran trackers, they began to get breathless. The steep ascent had come upon them suddenly, and they had not realised it. Yeshe gestured for the both of them to sit for awhile and catch their breath. Sangye smiled thankfully and they sat quietly. They could see the entire valley floor from where they had climbed up. Katishe and Satawa were climbing up steadily and came up to Yeshe and Sangye. The veterans of the Kang Renpoche were together, and they sat peacefully, amazed at the beauty of the valley that was spread out in front of them. They could see the trail that they had walked up and now, at this height, above the valley, they could make out the forested trail that had led away from their night camp. Dawa must have gone through that trail, they guessed. The opening to the valley wall was a short walk away, but it would require some strenuous walking. Katishe pointed to the opening, and said, Sangye, you old fox, this path looks more and more like it is going towards the river bed of the Seng Tsanplo River, but as we both know, the mighty river must be at a distant valley. There is no other river that we have seen or heard about. Where could this secret Beyul lead to?

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Sangye replied, I had mentioned the same aspect, a while ago. We may be at some place near the source of the River of the Lion. It is said that the source of the river is called the Mouth of the Lion. It must be because of the roar of the waters. That would mean that there is a sharp and very deep ravine, and the narrow river thunders down a steep fall. If we are anywhere near the Mouth of the Lion, we should be hearing the roar very soon. We will know by that sound, I guess. Let us walk to the opening in the valley and see for ourselves. Let us then decide if we are to go back and join up with Dawa or if we should walk through to the next valley. The four of them walked together, Yeshe, Sangye, Satawa and Katishe, up the steep trail. It had become extremely narrow in the upper rocks, and they could walk in a single file, one behind the other. The trail made them breathless and they struggled quietly. They breathed in, with their mouths open, and did not speak. It would have taken up much energy to even speak to each other. Finally, they were at the opening, and they could look at either side. The secret Beyul that they had walked up from seemed like just a beginning. The valley on the other side could not be seen. The clouds had come down to rest inside the other valley and had hidden whatever that could be within it. The Beyul, on the other hand, had no clouds and was absolutely basking in the pre-noon sunlight. It was very strange, they thought. Yeshe spoke, almost voicing the thoughts of all, This valley is completely hidden. Should we go ahead, or should we wait here? We could set up camp at the place where we sat. The large rocks on that trail can help us hide out the cold of the night. It will get extremely cold

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here. Or, we could go down to our earlier camp and wait for Dawa. But, this valley seems quite tempting and exciting. Its only pre-noon now, and the sun is up and shining. These are only clouds, and there does not seem to be any fog. I think, we should be cautious and curious. What do you say? Sangye replied, I agree. It is almost noon, and we have at least 2-3 hours of sunlight. We can easily go inside this hidden cloud valley and get back before sunset. Since it is downhill, we can return back to our camp of the night. It will be safer to be back. We do not know of this valley. We have to be careful since we could be near the River of the Lion. It is said that at the Mouth of the Lion, there are a thousand springs of water that come together, but cannot be seen. My elders told me that one should be careful when one cannot see the springs of water. It would be an indication of ponds that are alive below the water surface. They could eat us up. Ponds that can eat us up? asked Yeshe, I have heard of the story. The springs below the ponds are deep or have deep holes. They cannot be seen from the surface. People or animals can just fall into the deep and narrow holes and cannot swim back to the surface. We should be careful. I agree with Sangye. Let us walk into this hidden cloud valley and let us try to return if we think that the journey onward would not be safe. But, before we proceed, let us leave messages for those who follow us. And thus, the four of them went about leaving messages in their own traditions. Yeshe wrote out some sketches on a tall rock, with arrows to indicate the direction in

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which they would proceed. Sangye picked up rocks of different sizes and placed them on a large boulder. He placed the rocks in a manner that would make them look like a natural cluster. Any curious animal would not pay attention to such a loosely fallen group of stones and rocks. A knowledgeable tracker would however be able to read the message that four trackers (shown by four rocks of similar shape and size, in a row) had walked down the hidden cloud valley. Katishe picked up some leaves from a nearby tree and crushed them to extract their juices and painted out four figures, the position of the sun and the direction of their journey. Satawa was a minimalist. He placed four stones in a row, towards the cloud valley and sketched a sun to indicate its position at pre-noon. To each, their own. They knew that most monks and yak-boys or horse-boys could read these signs and would be able to understand that the four of them had entered the hidden cloud valley. As they turned back towards the hidden Beyul from which they had climbed out, they could see the sacred Kang Renpoche Mountain. The pre-noon sun made the higher peaks shine through the distance, and they felt comforted. The four of them had gone through their lives in the shadow of the sacred mountain and in its comforting valleys. As long as they could see the Kang Renpoche, they felt that there could be no danger that could overcome them. They began to walk down the hidden cloud valley. The clouds hid all sight of the valley. Very soon, they were amongst the clouds, unable to see the trail. They kept

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walking, going by their own experience, of many decades of moving around in these mountains. After a while, they were below the clouds, and the valley was spread out in front of them. The sunlight crept through the clouds, with rays striking waterbodies, rocks, forests and meadows. The meadows seemed to have ponds within them, for the reflection varied from spot to spot. There was a narrow stream of water, and many ponds and at least two lakes. The manner of landslides of big rocks in the Beyul was not present in the hidden cloud valley. The hill slopes in this cloud valley seemed to be gentle and sloping outwards. Yet, the valley was a secluded one, as they could see. The mountains had surrounded the valley from all sides. They could hear the birds and could also hear the sounds of water from various streams and falls in the valley. They came to some sort of a crossroads, with at least four trails leading to different locations. As if by habit, the four of them went about examining the trails, looking for signs. Katishe exclaimed, and pointed at the trail that he was inspecting. They could see it clearly. There were signs of very large-sized yak, going inside the cloud valley. Alongside the tracks of the wild yak, the four of them could see tracks of wolves. This is it! exclaimed Satawa, The herd of the large wild yak returned to this hidden cloud valley after the rains. They were probably moving ahead of us all the while. The other trails do not have any signs. Let us follow the wild yak and wolves. That is the reason for us to be here.

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***

Dawa continued to sit inside the bamboo clump. He kept watching the enormous lone white wild male yak in the forest around the grassland on the plateau. The lone white male yak seemed to be very alert. He was not moving about or foraging. He kept watching the forests around the grasslands. Old man Dawa could watch the entire grassland on the plateau. There was nowhere else to go, he thought. The mountain walls boxed in the grasslands. The plateau was within the shadows of the tall mountains. He looked around the entire plateau. There was only one path onto this box plateau. The trail that he had walked up on seemed to be the only path. One could not get out of this plateau unless one returned by the same path. That is, old man Dawa told himself, if there were other secret paths that he could not see now. There could be hidden paths beyond the forests around the grassland. He looked down at his right palm and smiled. He had been scratching it silently, all this while, since having become sensitive to the presence of the lone white wild yak. He had not seen any other animal since he had arrived at the plateau. The grassland looked totally ungrazed, and peaceful. And yet, the lone white wild yak stood within the forests, sheltered, safe and alert. At times, old man Dawa felt that the yak was watching him, and that he had been spotted. The yak was looking all around the grassland, and seemed to be waiting. He stood quietly, and looked very patient. Dawa had never seen such a yak

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in all his lifetime. He had seen yaks in the valleys of the Kang Renpoche and he had seen yaks being brought along with pilgrims from other regions of Tibet. But, this one was different. Dawa did not dare to move out of the bamboo clump that he had hid himself in. It seemed to be the wisest action, for there were no places to hide in this plateau. He kept watching the lone white wild yak and began to compare its size with reference to the vegetation. Those bushes in front of the yak seemed to be at least 3 feet in height, and the bamboo clump nearby could be about 8 feet in height. That would make this white wild yak to be about 5 feet at its snout, and nearly 6 feet at its hump. He could not remember having seen any other wild yak to be of the same height. It was not the height, thought Dawa. It was the sheer size. Though the lone white wild yak seemed to be 6 feet tall at its hump, it was the bulk that made it seem to be much taller. It looked like it could easily have been 8 feet tall. As he kept wondering about the yak, Dawa relaxed, and settled in. He would have to wait it out within the bamboo clump. He had done this on many occasions when he had gone out hunting in the mountains around the Kang Renpoche. He had got Chiru and mountain goats by simple patience. Sometimes, he would place his traps for partridges, hare and pheasants, but would always use his bow and arrow for the antelope and goats. He had no weapons with him in the Beyul, and he knew that he would accept death if it came to that, in an attack by the lone white wild yak. Was this yak dangerous? He

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wondered. It would be sensible not to provoke this one. He had some food that he had packed with him, from the dinner of the previous night. He could wait it out if the yak was going to play this game. It was fine by him. Once, he remembered, he had waited it out in a cave, blocking the entrance with stones and rocks, to prevent a snow leopard from attacking him. He had stayed within the cave for about five days before a snow storm had driven the leopard away. Could the lone white wild yak be alerted because of the presence of a snow leopard nearby? What could it be frightened of? Old man Dawa had seen many a cornered wild animal behave similarly, but there was something else in this posture that did not make it look to be defensive. The yak seemed to be quite at peace. Could there be an animal to challenge this huge yak? Suddenly, there seemed to be movement. The lone white wild yak began to walk towards a darker patch of the forest around the grassland. Dawa struggled to keep the yak in his sight. Though it was white in colour, it disappeared inside the darker forest patches. The shadow of the high mountain walls swallowed up the forests and very soon, Dawa could not figure out the presence of the yak. He kept hoping within himself that he had not got into a delusion and imagined it all. Old man Dawa sat patiently inside the bamboo clump. He knew this game. He could play it out for both the yak and for himself. He guessed that the lone white wild yak had sensed his presence and had not entered the grassland to forage, and now had gone into the dark shadows within the forests. He must be watching out for

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him, as he was. He could wait it out as long as anybody else could. He was very happy when he was by himself, silent, watching the wilderness, its beauty and the lives of the animals as they went about with their lives. The sunlight was playing with the mountain walls and the shadows were moving about in the valley. The forest patches were alternatively getting brighter and darker, and one needed to be alert about remembering whatever trail-marks that could be identified and recollected. At times, some parts of the grassland were covered by the shadows of the clouds while other parts were in direct sunlight. Dawa kept watching quietly and patiently. He could not sight the lone white wild yak or any other animal. He wondered about the grassland and the height of the grass. It seemed to be very deceptive. As he watched, he could sense that the grass could be much taller and had fallen down by its own weight. There were parts of the grassland with bamboo shoots growing out, and he could only see the tender portions at the top. The grassland could be about 4-5 feet deep in most parts, he thought. That was dangerous. If there were animals in it, he would not be able to spot them in time. Forests were much safer, he thought and smiled. At least, he could see the danger approaching and could escape. How could anyone escape in the grassland? Suddenly, old man Dawa became alert. He could sense some development. Something had happened. The valley had been silent, but now, he could feel that the valley had become quieter. How could it be possible? He thought. There was something that disturbed the entire

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valley. The clouds had covered the entire grassland, and it had become colder. He could not spot any sunlight escaping through the clouds to reach the plateau grassland or the forests. Something was wrong, and he could not place it exactly. He felt extremely disturbed and his palms were itching very badly. At one point, he wanted to get out of the bamboo hideout and run back down the trail. He had entered through a small opening in the bamboo thicket. He turned around to get out of the bamboo clump that had been his hideout. As he turned, the sight in front of him made his blood run cold. An icy blanketlike feeling covered him entirely. He could not believe what he was seeing. The lone white wild yak was standing just outside his bamboo hideout, and was watching him quietly. It must have crossed over the grassland by walking through the forests and had come over to the thicket and had been standing nearby, all this while. Old man Dawa was in a bad state of panic. He could feel his heart pounding very loudly. His legs and hands refused to move. He felt very thirsty, but he could not get his hands to sip from his bottle of water. He looked at the white wild yak and remembered the moments in the night from the Choku Gompa. Inside this forest area, and in the shadows, the white wild yak did not look white. It looked grayish and speckled. But, it was enormous, extremely enormous. It stood still and kept watching him. The tail did not move. The eyes were still, focused, and watching Dawa. The old man wondered about the situation. What could he do? Could he run? That was impossible. There was only one opening in the

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bamboo clump, and the white wild yak was standing right out there, in front of it. He moved about in the bamboo clump. The white wild yak stood still. He did not seem to get angry. Encouraged and calmer, old man Dawa gathered up his food packet and water bottle and his walking stick and stood up. The yak kept watching him calmly. Perhaps, this one was friendly with humans, he thought, recollecting the twelve pilgrims who sat in the circle of stones at the Choku Gompa. He moved about within the bamboo thicket, watching the white wild yak all the time. It seemed quite calm, almost as if it was waiting for him to come out of the thicket. Speaking a silent prayer to the gods, and to the sacred Kang Renpoche, old man Dawa pushed and pulled himself out of the bamboo thicket. He came out and stood silently, barely 4-5 feet away from the enormous, extremely enormous, white wild yak, and waited for whatever was to happen.

***

They seemed to be the most unlikely group that could have assembled at the remote Gyangdrak Gompa, thought Master Ang Tsering. Tibetans, Chinese and Indians, of course, were regular visitors and pilgrims to the valley of the sacred Kang Renpoche, but, to have assembled for a common purpose, that seemed quite improbable. Brother Sonam Sangye was from Tibet, but had been settled at Nalanda for some time. He accompanied Sardar Amarpal Singh, a devout Sikh from Punjab, India. Their companion, Shenshe, the Han

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Chinese, policeman from Shiquanhe, was the only one looking very uncomfortable. The senior monk from the Chiu Gompa, Loga of the Kla-Chu, seemed to understand the thoughts of Master Ang Tsering. They smiled in understanding at each other. The younger monks, Brother Shedrub Repa and the two brother monks from the Choku Gompa sat patiently, awaiting orders or instructions. They knew their place. It was not theirs to question, but to accept, as events happened, and to be thankful for any change or developments. Brother Tameng of the Choku Gompa was leading the discussion as he had seen the herd of wild yaks and the wolves accompanying them. He had also explained about the twelve pilgrims who had sat within the circle of stones below the sacred Kang Renpoche. The puzzling Hariram Maharaj, the young and courageous Norbu, and the curious Vijay Kulkarni were seated around the monks. The senior monk of the Chiu Gompa, Loga of the Kla-Chu, and Brother Shedrub Repa from the Gyangdrak Gompa went to one of the other rooms and brought back document boxes covered with coloured clothes. They opened them up in silence and distributed the parchments containing the maps, sketches and paintings to the monks who could read them. Some documents, in ancient parchments, and protected within circular tubes, were taken by Master Ang Tsering and Loga of the Kla-Chu. They read the notes and writings in the ancient parchments in silence. Hariram Maharaj went about helping everyone, refilling their bowls of tea and soup, for he could not read this

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form of ancient Tibetan script. Vijay Kulkarni kept taking photographs in his DSLR for he thought that it would be necessary to examine these documents later, or have them perused by experts in these issues. It was Brother Tameng who spoke, This document mentions the same questions. It specifically mentions that pilgrims are not allowed to climb the sacred Kang Renpoche, and this is as instructed within the Bonpo, Buddhist and Hindu religions. There is also mention that one must not stay the night on the path of the kora unless there is a snowstorm or a severe avalanche or landslide. Brother Shedrub Repa of the Gyangdrak Gompa looked up from the parchment that he was studying, and pointed to the sketches, and said, See, there are the locations of the various Gompas and the kora. Both, the outer kora and the inner kora are located on this sketch. It is made in a very artistic manner, and thats why it does not seem to be accurate. They have also placed sketches of the Most Enlightened One, in different postures at each of the Gompas. It is most remarkable to see that these ancient sketches are so accurate. The Dirapuk Gompa is shown, but there is no sketch of a path leading to its North West. Sardar Amarpal Singh looked quite disappointed at the mention that there were specific instructions that one should not be allowed to climb the sacred Mount Kailash. He looked at the parchment that Brother Shedrub Repa had with him. There were no trails marked out within the inner kora. The Han Chinese policeman, Shenshe, was watching Sardar Amarpal Singh with great interest. He could guess his thoughts, and he smiled. Just you try, he thought, just try, and I

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will have arrested you. I am not going to leave you, he thought to himself. Sardar Amarpal Singh looked back at Shenshe, and smiled and waved his prayer beads in blessing at the policeman. Master Ang Tsering read quietly. He knew of the other documents, for he had studied many similar parchments before he had come to the valley of the sacred Kang Renpoche. This was similar to other sacred mountains and valleys. But, the information was strictly implemented in this valley. At least, until now, he thought. Where could the twelve pilgrims have gone to, in that stormy night? What were the wild yaks doing in the valley? What was their significance? The document that he had been reading seemed to provide detailed information about the kora and the pilgrimage to Kang Renpoche from the eyes of devotees from the west of the sacred valley. There were many references in the languages of the ancient Pharsees. He decided to share the information with the assembled group. He said, Listen, I speak with due respect to the senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu. This document does identify the sacred Kang Renpoche but does not mention the name as we know it. It identifies the sacred mountain as the home of the most ancient gods. But, it also mentions of another sacred mountain to the North West. The journey from the other mountain to the Kang Renpoche is mentioned as the most important journey of some of these peoples in their lifetimes. This document mentions that their journey would be the last journey that they would undertake in their lives.

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Hariram Maharaj spoke, Yes. The two pilgrims that I had met, they did speak a very strange form of Pharsee. It is not the language that I know from Gujarat among the Parsis. This was a very different one, almost sounding more ancient. They spoke of their journey to this sacred valley as a very important pilgrimage among their peoples. In spite of many questions, they did not inform us about the fate of the pilgrims that they had accompanied. It is very strange. Master Ang Tsering nodded in agreement, and continued, It is indeed strange to notice such an activity when one sees it on the first occasion. But, this document mentions something similar. It mentions that the mountains around the Kang Renpoche are alive, and are sacred dwellings of the ancient gods, and the animals and plants in these sacred valleys are manifestations of the ancient gods. This document says that everything that happens in these valleys is with a reason and nothing happens without a purpose. The ancient people who travel on their last pilgrimage are supposed to be coming here for a very specific purpose. But, this document does not describe or explain the purpose. The senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu, of the Chiu Gompa spoke, I am reading a document of similar age, but it speaks of different aspects. There is no mention here about the ancient people or their last pilgrimage. This document mentions that there are different energy forms here in this sacred valley and in the adjacent ones. These energies are manifest in the locations of hidden springs of waters that come out of the regions below our lands. It speaks of huge underground reservoirs, large caves and springs of different minerals. It also explains

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springs of hot water in the region that come to greet the springs and rivers on our lands. There is however one mention that is indeed disturbing, said Loga of the Kla-Chu, and continued, This mention is about the birth of rivers. This ancient document mentions that the ancient people are sworn to serve the sacred mountains and protect the deities of these mountains. They are known to work within themselves, not trusting anyone. Their sacred responsibility is to protect the secret locations that are the birthplaces of the mighty rivers. The document mentions that most people know of several springs and streams that provide water to the mightiest rivers that emerge from this high region of Tibet. This document discloses that nobody knows of the actual spring or stream that is the true birthplace of the river. This is kept secret for if this location is destroyed then the river is killed. The deities within the mountains ensure that they keep the source hidden and protected, but it is the task of the ancient people to prevent others from entering these regions. The animals and plants in these regions are provided with powers and magical abilities to protect these places. Loga of the Kla-Chu explained, This document has been written by one of us, I guess, for the choices of words are those that are meant to explain to us. Therefore, it is possible that they wrote the phrase magical abilities as a means to explain some unknown powers. I fear for those that have gone into and entered the secret Beyul. This is the reason why our elders have always prevented us or forbidden us from

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entering the Beyuls. These valleys must have been known to our elders by some sort of information exchange. But, I fear for our friends who have entered the Beyul above Dirapuk. We should send someone there to stop them from going ahead.

***

Yeshe, Sangye, Katishe and Satawa walked through the uncertain trail in the hidden cloud valley. They could make out the trail, and as the four of them were expert trackers, they could walk fast in the trail, picking up the signs. The trail of the wild yak and the wolves were very obvious, but there were no signs of any human footprints. The path certainly did indicate that the herd and pack had been moving inside the hidden cloud valley. How far could they go ahead, safely? Yeshe was worried, for as they moved in, the valley got darker and darker. They did not dare to speak to one another. For, though the trail showed clearly that the yak herd and the pack of wolves had moved ahead, nearly a day earlier, the animals could have doubled back on another adjoining trail and could be watching them. Instinctively, the four of them knew exactly what was to be done. They separated their tasks, with Yeshe leading the trail, watching the signs and walking forward. The other three kept Yeshe in their sights and were walking along with him in silence. Sangye kept watching their rear, along the trail that they had walked down from, being careful about any movement from behind.

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Katishe kept his gaze to the inner regions of the valley. He could only see forests, with darkened canopies. The bushes and bamboo kept the lower areas hidden from sight. He could not see beyond 2-3 meters. But, he stayed alert and watched out for any sudden movement or signs of animals. Satawa looked out to the upper ridges, watching out for signs of movement of animals. He could see outside the valley, up towards the higher regions. Yeshe could read the trail easily. The yak herd or the pack of wolves had not attempted to hide their trail. They probably did not expect that they would be tracked to this hidden cloud valley. Very soon, the trail began to climb gradually. The four trackers realized that the trail was climbing out of the clouds. This could get awkward, thought Katishe, for they would never know if there was any danger below the clouds, following them. Yeshe kept looking forward, for any sign of the yaks or wolves returning back on the trail. Soon enough, they were out of the clouds, climbing up the hidden valley. Immediately, the four of them turned to see if they could spot the trail from where they had climbed down. It was not to be seen. That would be the reason why they could not spot this trail that was climbing up, Yeshe thought, and pointed to the rocky ridge that protruded in the hill sides between the two trails. They looked ahead to the adjacent mountain wall, and realized that there were similar rocky ridges protruding out of the slopes, preventing anyone from locating the other trails.

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Yeshe could see that the trail climbed up, above the clouds, and went over the edge. That would be dangerous, but they could not resort to any other means. There were no other ledges or side-trails for them to go ahead and check out the forest. With Sangye keeping a watch on the rear-trail, they walked steadily ahead. The trail narrowed down to about six feet width, and the signs of the yak and wolves were easily seen. There had been no snowfall here, and the signs were clear and could be understood by the expert trackers. The yak must have walked in a single line, helping each other, for the tracks were all close to each other. The wolves, judging by their tracks, had mingled with the yaks, and both the animals seemed to be comfortable with each other. The four trackers walked out of the hidden cloud valley and came up to the ridge. They could see down both the sides. They could see the hidden cloud valley, but the valley on the other side was not the Beyul that they had climbed out of. This was a different valley and had no clouds. They could see the entire valley. It seemed to be a sort of a plateau, and there were grasslands in the valley floor. The grasslands were ringed with forests. Yeshe pointed out to the grasslands, and said, There, look. At the edge of the grassland, if you look carefully. It seems to be a man, sitting in the open grassless patch. This trail will take us to him. How did a lone man come to be up here? Why is he sitting out there, motionless, on the grasslands in this remote valley? Should we follow the trail of the yaks and wolves, or should we walk up directly to the lone man sitting up there?

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It looked very surprising to see the lone man out there on the grassland. But, as they walked down, on the trail of the yak and the wolves, they lost sight of the lone man. They were walking inside forests, darkened without sunlight. With all their combined skills, they could keep walking through the trail, picking up tracks of the yak and the wolves. They knew the dangers. They could catch up with the yak and the wolves, or, the animals could return along the same path. Worse, they could run out of daylight, for as the day progressed, the onset of dusk would be quickened in these high valleys. The walk through the darkened forests seemed without any end. They were tired, and they kept eating some of the food stuff that they had been carrying with them. At one of the mountain streams, they had rested for a while, refreshing themselves and refilling their water bottles. It had been a relief to sit for some time and take stock. They did not speak to one another, for they could easily be near the yak or the wolves. They took courage that there was a lone man sitting out there on the grassland, and that could mean that perhaps, there was no danger. They came to the edge of the forest, and it was a different world from what they had seen from the ridge of the valley. The grassland was not grassland at all. It was more like a grass-forest. The grass was almost 5-6 feet tall, and was interspersed with bamboo that was taller. The trail continued inside the grassland, and they could pick up the traces of the yak and the wolves. This was certainly more dangerous than stony trails or forest paths. There was no way to understand what animal could be coming at them. As Katishe said, We can only go ahead. We cannot return. We need to find a place to

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camp for the night, and we know that there are no safe places behind us. At least we know that a lone man was sitting out there. There may be a place to stay somewhere nearby. The grassland trail was quite wide, and they could see that the yaks had walked through, two alongside. The wolves had been moving back and forth. The trail looked like it had been used quite often, and yet, they could not see any human signs. How did the lone man come up on the grassland, if there were no open signs? Up ahead, the grass was getting thinner, and lower. They moved cautiously, for they could begin to see all around the grassland. It was Sangye who commented, This is a strange place. There are no birds to be heard here. Strange spirits are at work in this valley. Let us be cautious. Yeshe replied, Yes. I noticed that. Not only the birds, but there are no other sounds in this valley. Its totally silent. This trail seems to go across this valley to the other side. As you can see there is no other trail that we can spot that can lead us to any shelter. We have no option at all. We have to follow these yaks and wolves. Where they would have gone, we go in their pursuit. We have come into this valley for that purpose, and let us go ahead, no matter what the dangers may be. The three trackers agreed with him, nodding in silence. The grass cover kept going lower and except for the bamboo clumps, they could now see the trail ahead of them for a greater distance. They kept looking around to spot the lone man that they had seen sitting in the open grassless patch somewhere on the plateau. Yeshe was

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torn between continuing on the trail of the yak and the wolves, and going away from the trail to meet the lone man. Satawa, understanding Yeshes dilemma, said, Brother, let us continue on this trail. If we see the man, we can call out to him and ask him to join us. Let us not lose this trail. In a few minutes, they were suddenly out of the grassland and stood silently on the grassless patch. It was stony out here, and the trail of the yak and the wolves was lost. But, they could see the lone man and they could recognize him easily. It was old man Dawa, sitting quietly out on the grassless patch. He had not seen them, for he was watching the forest patch in front of him. Not knowing whatever it was that he was watching, they went up to him, quietly, except for warning him by rustling the stony ground with their footwear. He must have heard them, but he did not move around. He kept watching the forest in front of him. The four trackers went up to Dawa and sat alongside him, and offered him some food and water. He accepted the food and water, and pointed to the forest ahead. It was then that they saw the lone white wild yak, standing inside.

***

Master Ang Tsering of the Gyangdrak Gompa spoke to the gathering of the curious, the faithful and the travelers, We would perhaps have to move in to the Beyul and ensure that we are able to bring our friends back from the secret and unexplored valleys. We would

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need to be patient in exploring the questions and may need to be cautious in enquiring into what we see in these magical valleys. There may be incidents that we see, and do not understand. It may not be necessary for us to go into these events and try to understand what we are not ready to. Vijay Kulkarni listened to all the stories and theories that the senior monks were discussing. For him, it was getting to be more and more exciting. This is what he had come in search of. To understand the power of the Mount Kailash and its neighbouring mountains and to figure out the means by which the mightiest of rivers were born in these regions. There were many, the Indus, Ganges, Brahmaputra and the Mekong among the very few. These were the mightiest. There were rivers that went up towards the Caspian Sea and the Dead Sea, and those that went towards Afghanistan. Nobody spoke about those rivers. There were many rivers that went away from Tibet and into China. These were not commonly known. Did the ancients know about the secrets of the birth of the rivers? Vijay asked, For then, it would be one of the most important aspects of knowledge for this world at this time. We are fighting all over the world, killing nations and communities, for control over water. What do those ancient books, parchments and the sketches talk about? It cannot be that the secrets of the Mount Kailash are just hidden away in these few documents. There must be some more documents and some other places where they could be stored. Do these documents mention any more?

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The senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu, of the Chiu Gompa said, Brother, have patience. These are the secrets of centuries. Let us go about trying to unravel them, but cautiously. We need to know why they have been retained as secrets. There is wisdom, always, in the aspects of ancient knowledge. The way of the ancients were to hide the most precious in open sight, but with language that one would not easily understand. We need to read these documents again and again before we are able to determine what they actually mean and what they actually intend. Master Ang Tsering, in agreement, said, Brother, my senior from the Chiu Gompa is correct. However, I agree with you that we should try to find out more about these secret places and the reasons why they have been kept a secret. Meanwhile, we should hurry and send out another group from amongst us, to enter the secret Beyul, and bring out our friends who have gone inside, trusting us. Let us organise the group first. Brother Tameng stood up and bowed in respect to the senior monks, and offered, I would like to go, for I have been there before, and I know that it is a peaceful valley. But, I would like to place one condition for those who would wish to come with me. They may accompany me, but would need to keep their cameras behind. For these are precious regions, and most sacred. I would not like these places to be destroyed by wandering tourists and ill-informed pilgrims. Let those who would wish to accompany us, get ready to journey to this most beautiful valley that I have ever had the blessings to visit and to see.

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Brother Sonam Sangye from Nalanda in India said, It is an important journey. But, I have come here to offer my homage and prayers to the sacred Kang Renpoche, and I would only restrict myself to such a task. I would stay back. Hearing him declare thus, Sardar Amarpal Singh, the Sikh from Punjab in India, knowing the Brother to be wise, said, I would also stay back. I need to meditate upon the sacred Mount Kailash and seek the blessings upon my faith. This is indeed a magical place and we are truly blessed to know that all devotees are alike in their journey to seek more knowledge about their faith, as I would be unto mine. I would like to, with your permission, stay back at Gyangdrak Gompa as long as I am allowed to do so. Happy to hear the Sikh declare that he would stay back at the Gyangdrak Gompa, the policeman from Shiquanhe said, If they stay, it is that simple, then I would stay back. I am not sure about this strange devotee from India. He keeps insisting upon climbing the Kang Renpoche, and I cannot allow that sort of behaviour. But, I like him and his simplicity. So, I shall stay with him and make sure that he does not land into any mischief that would result in punishment. Loga of the Kla-Chu, the senior monk from the Chiu Gompa said, I shall go until Dirapuk and wait there to know about the fate of our brothers who have entered the secret Beyul. And, when they would return, I would like to offer some prayers and apologies to the guardians of these valleys and the Beyuls. Brother Shedrub Repa and the two brother monks from the Choku Gompa sat silently, for it was not in their position to speak. Master Ang Tsering announced, I shall accompany my brother,

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Loga of the Kla-Chu to Dirapuk and will wait with him at the monastery. It is with great excitement that I want to go until the entrance to the secret Beyul. Norbu looked up at Brother Tameng and nodded in happiness and went up to stand alongside the monk from the Choku Gompa. They had gone inside the secret valley and they would easily do so, again. He was keen to go with Brother Tameng. The vegetarian cook from Gujarat, Hariram Maharaj stood up and went to stand by Norbu. He was now employed by Norbus parents and it was his duty to be alongside the young and courageous boy. This would be a great adventure, he thought. It was a pity that he could not share these stories with other pilgrims from Gujarat, he spoke to himself. Vijay Kulkarni looked at the senior monk, Loga of the Kla-Chu, who nodded in agreement. Yes. He could go to the secret Beyul. It was to be a quiet journey, for they did not want to alarm the policeman from Shiquanhe. They were lucky that the Han Chinese had his eyes only on the Sikh pilgrim from India. Brother Tameng said, It is decided then that I shall return to the secret valley. We have already sent yaks, horses and supplies that must be arriving at Dirapuk by now. If we walk from here, we will reach Dirapuk within some time. Let us start early in the morning, tomorrow, and we will be there just after post-noon, if we ride on horses and mules. At a glance from Master Ang Tsering, the monk from Nalanda stood up and announced that he was tired and would like to go to the prayer room to meditate upon the Most Enlightened One. In similar understanding, the Sikh pilgrim from Punjab, Sardar Amarpal Singh also

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announced that he would like to go up to the roof of the Gyangdrak Gompa and meditate upon the Mount Kailash. Alarmed at this, Shenshe, the policeman from Shiquanhe, also stood up and accompanied the Sikh pilgrim. Sangye, the monk from Nalanda, smiled and bowed to the group, and said, It is said that those also serve, those who do not read, and those who do not teach. These are the mysterious ways of the Most Enlightened One, and there is a purpose to each and all. After the policeman had left the room, Master Ang Tsering announced, It is fine that we would leave on the journey tomorrow morning, but we are wasting time until then. Let Brother Shedrub Repa and the two young monks from Choku Gompa travel now. From Gyangdrak to Choku. They will inform about the progress to the senior monks and will bring us some food and drinks when we are on our way tomorrow. They can also bring us any news about developments if there are any. Brothers, please get on your way, and reach safe at Choku by nightfall. Loga of the Kla-Chu interrupted, I was reading this document again, and there is a sketch here that has faded through the years. I can only make out some of the details. There seems to be a sketch of a yak, a man and a wolf, but the artist seems to have thought that this is that of a man with his domestic yak and his Tibetan mastiff. But, as I see it in close attention, I can understand that the artist has been told an ancient story and he has taken the perspectives from life as he would have known to exist at Tibet during those times.

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The page in front of this sketch explains a strange story, he continued, for, it says, that those who would move out of the kora, will not reach any place, for it is the Kang Renpoche that is to be sought and none else. But, there are ancients who travel to arrive at the sacred valley, as it is written here, for whom the summons goes out from the sacred mountain itself. HE decides as to when you may arrive, and HE calls out to you. It is thus that there would be, as is written here, some pilgrims who would come to the Kang Renpoche, but would not return, ever.

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