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My Kind of Town

Don Chapman


LAMA ON THE LAM

Consorting with Buddha


>> Kaneohe

With shaved head glowing, the young lama slowly came out of his five-hour meditation trance, unfolded his legs from the lotus position, stretched, coughed, seemed confused by his surroundings and by the electronic sensors attached to his head and body, and only after several minutes noticed Bodhicita Guzman seated at his side.

"Sparshavajra!" he said, startled to see her.

" 'Scuse me?" she said. "I think his mouth is dry, Joe. Get some water."

"Sparshavajra," he repeated, waving away the glass of water offered by his big brother Joe Kharma.

"No comprende," Joe said. "You gotta speak English around here, Jey."

"Sparshavajra," he said to Bodhicita, nodded at the computer monitor that still showed the final scene of his meditation, pointed to the goddess with six arms and three heads, each of them looking just like Bodhicita except they were blue, white and red.

With two arms she held the three-headed, six-armed likeness of Jey on a lotus throne in mutual embrace. They shared silk shawls and an aura of light. In her right hands she held lotus blossom, vajra lightning bolt and Dharma wheel, in the left hands a bell, jewel and sword. Her hair was tied up and topped with a crown. She was extremely beautiful and graceful, and with all three faces pleased him with smiles and sidelong glances. "How lovely you've chosen this time to reincarnate too."

"Yes," Bodhicita said, though she had almost no idea what he was talking about, except that apparently in another world her name was Sparshavajra and they were an item.

"Hold on a second," Joe said, clearly confused. "You mean you've got a babe over in god land?"

"Consort is the term, brother."

"Oh my," Bodhicita sighed. "You mean ...?"

"It's so nice to see you in this realm. I think I will need your help."

"I'm here, Jey, always." In fact, her father's prophecy was coming true in ways neither of them could ever have imagined.

"Whoa," Joe said, "I thought you monks were celibate."

"Consort can mean many things. But it's said that even Buddha himself, on the way back to this realm, dallied with a consort for many millennia. And the first Panchen Lama in his Mandala Offering promises to Buddha 'young maidens highly skilled in the 64 arts of love.'"

"Sixty-four?!" Bodhicita said, starting to count her personal arts of love and coming up way short. How come Cosmo never said anything about 64 arts of love? She had some learning to do. Maybe Jey could help?

He stood, stretched. "May I have some tea. After these long meditations, I'm always famished."

"You, my dear Jey," Bodhicita said, taking him by the hand, "can have whatever your pure heart desires."



See the Columnists section for some past articles.

Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com

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