“What did he say?” Boris asked, looking up from his percussion instruments for a minute.
- Did he say that we need to pay for the room? – Alice translated.
- Maybe he will give us a discount, the money is almost gone? –
Alice pressed the phone to her ear again and began to translate the question to the innkeeper.
- He said that he had already given us a discount when we asked him for it when we moved in and was not going to discount it anymore.
- Damn, why is he so tight? – Boris was indignant, running a small fraction over the small drums and finally hitting the grumpy-tinkling disc, – Then ask him to wait for the money to be sent to us.
Alice began to whisper the innermost English words into the phone again, then she raised her eyes, which were potentially open to the whole world, and said guiltily:
- The owner said that our room is very comfortable and costs three times more in a good season, and even if he went to meet us, his family would not allow it.
Boris angrily threw the drumsticks onto the wide bed, where bass guitarist Volodya was still dozing with a smart book in his hands, and went out onto the balcony.
Alice sadly put down the phone and stared at its silhouette.
- What should we do? “What is it?” she asked.
“What, what?” Let’s go begging, that’s what,” Boris continued to seethe.
- Maybe we should try to give a concert here? – the girl suggested hesitantly.
- Well, of course, so that the local police would pick us up and ask us to get out of the country in twenty-four hours. You are not allowed to work on a tourist visa, it is easier to sell you to someone.
Alice pouted and turned away.
Volodya reluctantly stretched out on the bed and, having bookmarked the book, turned to the guys.:
- I have a suggestion, but I do not know how you will react to it.
“Yeah, well, go ahead,” Boris replied indifferently, lighting a cigarette.
- There is a large house of a Tibetan Lama nearby. Some of his students live in this house with him, some even from Russia. I met one of them by chance at the market today. So, basically, until the money comes from Moscow, we can live there.
“Do you think they’re waiting for us there with open arms?” There aren’t many homeless vagabonds here, the Lama won’t put everyone in his house,” Alice expressed her doubts.
- Yes, you’re right, he doesn’t settle anyone there, but only his students, so we have to say that we came to study with him. This guy from Russia, his name, by the way, is Andrey, said that the Lama is very kind and is unlikely to refuse us.
Boris thought for a moment, clearly turning over in his head this, at first glance, shaky option.
Alice got up from her chair, walked to the window, then back, stopped in the middle of the room and asked:
“Are you sure you should tell him that?” I’ve heard they’re clairvoyant, and they can tell right away that it’s not true.
“Yes, what clairvoyants they are,” Volodya waved his hand, opening the book he had put aside again, “maybe it was only in the last century, and even then it wasn’t always, but now they only teach philosophy and read sacred texts.
- Well, basically, we still have nowhere to go, why not try? Boris finally replied from the balcony, casually spitting down.
That was settled.
Alice looked like she was made of soft, delicate dough. Slightly swollen white cheeks with a delicate blush, an upturned nose above a sweet oval of lips and large kind eyes, slightly narrowed at the corners, as if it were a small hint of a distant Mongol-Tatar Yoke, hastily marked in distant ancestors, and belatedly marked on a purely Russian face.
Her hair, with a claim to Russified Africa, was woven into multicolored synthetic pigtails that make up all the colors of the rainbow, and a huge beret made her head look like a mushroom cap, and her thin slender body looked like its thin leg. Boris tried in vain to mold her into a rock lady, her essence in no way succumbed to either pretentious extravagance or professional mannerisms with the obligatory haughty expression in her eyes. For some reason, she still remained in their rock band, looking like a little white lamb among a pack of rocker wolves. And it was amazing when, in the black basement clubs of Moscow at night, this gentle child suddenly appeared on stage and began to sing in a deliberately rude voice about something that clearly made sense, but over the roar of drums and guitars, barely audible to tipsy and stoned visitors.
“Alice,” Boris shouted in his gruff voice.
And she bowed her head, quite humbly in an Oriental way, and asked:
- what?
“Where did you put my socks?” I told you to put them on my bedside table in advance.
“I’m sorry, I completely forgot. They’re under the bed,” she replied humbly, and went to pull them out.
Boris was her closest friend, patron, and almost a brother all rolled into one. He was a very original personality, it seemed that his main task in life was to subject everything to skepticism, thorough and thorough verification, and open distrust. One would think that, starting from the very moment of his birth, he no longer believed in the real existence of the place where he was born, did not trust the people who gave birth to him, and to top it all off, did not fully believe even the very fact of his birth.
Anyway, wherever he appeared, he invariably began to quickly discover all the disadvantages and flaws, which was for him the main proof of the fragility of human existence and the direct imperfection of life itself.
But even that was half the trouble, the main danger came from his enormous influence on Alice, to whom he sometimes gave various funny nicknames.
So that’s about the impact. The influence was very diverse, it seemed that Boris, out of the goodness of his heart, wanted to show the young singer as much as possible the charm of his traveling and partying youth. They began by trying out all sorts of small smoking plants that Alice had never seen before, wrapped in pieces of paper, which caused dizziness, and jumping colorful balls that appeared almost out of nowhere and filled the dark, cold space right in front of her eyes. And Alice would start laughing uncontrollably, eating jam, which for some reason became sweeter, or walking around the room, pressing on the walls and thereby trying to increase the cramped living space.
He also, throwing aside his long locks of hair, which had been prudently oiled against sudden loss, showed Alice all sorts of tricks with cards and black hats with an important air, and the girl, clapping her surprisingly, not Moscow-like, clear eyes, was ready to introduce him to the pedestal of a magician and wizard. And when he announced with a serious look that they were going to mysterious India together, Alice was conquered forever and irrevocably.
Alice’s noble and culturally educated parents, who were famous artists and had considerable authority in the elite circles of Moscow, this strange friendship of such dissimilar people led to obvious anxiety and forced them to remain in constant tension. And if it hadn’t been for Boris’s talent, who beat incredible breaks on his drums, complemented by a powerful groove, and whom the enchanted audience was already comparing to the famous Denis Chambers, then much more effective measures would have been taken on their part to make this friendship disappear.
But, nevertheless, friendship, despite this, as if to spite all the deaths, grew stronger and flourished. And she was unique in her own way, even her bosom friends were surprised and touched by this unusual relationship. And it was also completed by the fact that freedom of relations was diligently preserved between them. This meant that Boris and Alice were not limited in their choice of suitors, and there were no limits to the variety of their sensual and loving experiences. Therefore, they could often be seen together with Borya’s new friends and Alice’s friends at the same time and, as a rule, at the same table. And not infrequently, when they were overtaken by emotional storms and unrest, they cried into each other’s vests, complaining and asking for advice in this or that amorous situation.
2.
The next day, after dressing up decently and renting white walkers from Andrey, they arrived at the house of an old Tibetan Lama early in the morning.
The house was huge and not very well maintained. People of all nationalities were constantly scurrying back and forth, carrying out some kind of errands with an important air, while others were just loitering, obviously not knowing what to do with their precious time.
Alice, Boris, and Volodya sat more modestly than ever in the waiting room and waited for the promised meeting.
An hour later, the Lama came out. He was unusually tall for Tibetans, one might even say handsome, and with an endless bright smile that never seemed to leave his youthful, precocious face.
- Well, what did the young people come with? “What is it?” he asked them, narrowing his eyes slyly.
Boris, as the leader, just wanted to start and the Lama turned an inquiring glance in his direction, but for some reason he immediately became confused and did not start. Volodya also batted his faded eyelashes. Then Alice looked at them reproachfully, cleared her throat as before the performance and said:
“You know, we’ve come to study Buddhist philosophy,” and then she added softly, “and we’d like to live in your house.”
The monk from Buryatia began to translate slowly.
- What are you talking about! Boris hissed at her, “I must say that they found out that he was a good master and came to study with him.
“Yes, but we don’t even know what he’s teaching,” she whispered softly, and then looked guiltily at the Lama and said firmly, “We’ve come to see you.”
- Yes? The Teacher made a fake surprised face.
He looked with interest at their decently rocker-like appearance mixed with hippie bangs, and Alice, cowering, tried her best to hide her African pigtails escaping from under her beret.
- And what do you know about Buddhist philosophy? The Lama asked.
The guys froze again, but Volodya, rummaging through his storerooms of memory, came to the rescue.:
- Buddhist philosophy says that the whole world is suffering, and that it is possible to overcome this suffering and achieve Absolute Happiness. And that there are even special secret Teachings to do this. That’s why we came for these Exercises.
- Are you really sure that the world is one continuous suffering? The Teacher laughed.
But judging by the guys’ faces, not only were they not sure about this, they seemed, on the contrary, very surprised by such an outrageous statement from their friend. And thinking that he had got something wrong, they looked angrily at Volodya. And Volodya also somehow doubted it.:
“No, it’s not solid, it’s probably partial,” he said, remembering that there were some other explanations divided into parts about this.
The lama laughed again, and the monk from Buryatia shook his head disapprovingly.
“Well, okay,” the Teacher said softly, “it’s really difficult for you right now, so you can stay with me for a week, and at the same time study the Special Secret Teachings on Overcoming Suffering.”
He slowly got up from his chair, said something in Tibetan to the woman who came up, and left the room.
The Tibetan woman looked at them with displeasure, as if it was completely clear to her that all this was just a staged show, and ordered them to follow her.
3.
They were placed in a small room with windows overlooking the gorge. They were given clean sheets, a kettle, glasses and other necessary utensils.
While the guys were settling down, Alice gathered up the tray and went to the kitchen.
Andrey blocked her way on the stairs, deftly throwing off her beret, and seeing the thin braids falling apart, he teasingly asked:
“You’re African, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m Russian,” Alice said.
“Ah,” he drawled, disappointed, “I thought she was African.”
- Well, if it upsets you so much, then you can think that you are an African.
Andrey, playing, walked around her in a circle, looked at her carefully, and said:
- No, not an African.
- Listen, why are you getting attached to me? Alice was indignant.
“I like you,” he said thoughtfully, and headed down the corridor, but then he looked back and added, “Do you even know whose house you’ve come to?”
- Yes, to the Tibetan Lama’s house.
“That’s it?” This is Bogdo Khan of Mongolia himself. His ninth reincarnation.
- Oh, – said Alice, as if she understood something, and then asked, – What does it mean?
- Well, you can at least read something about him to at least know.
“All right,” Alice said, and went to make tea in the kitchen.
In the evening, when everything had settled down and settled down, Boris sat cross-legged on the bed and began to read the printouts he had taken from Andrey with an important air.:
- “The ninth Khalkha Jetsun Dumpa was born in Tibet in Tromsikang . Later, he was transferred to a school in a place that was located next to the Potala.”
- And what is a Potala? Alice asked.
Boris grimaced, he didn’t know. But Volodya opened one eye and said:
- As far as I remember, this is the government palace of the Dalai Lama.
- “When he was seven years old, he became a monk at Drepung Monastery, enrolling in Homan College…”
Think about it, I became a monk at the age of seven, and I probably could have done it at the age of seven, back then you didn’t even think about chicks.
- Boris, please read on, – Alice asked.
- Well, it says here that he studied with cool Teachers, and with such, and with such, it’s even difficult for me to pronounce, and there is no cooler, shorter one. In general, even with the Dalai Lama.
. “But still?” Alice asked again.
“You’d think you’d know any of them.” Better listen further:” At the age of twenty-one, he became a yogi and went on a long-term yoga retreat.
“What?” Volodya jumped up and down on his bed. This is the most dangerous practice in all of Tibet.
The boys turned their heads to him and froze.
- And what is Chod? Alice asked.
- This is a practice with spirits! They go crazy about her, and even the Tibetans themselves avoid the Chodchiks.
Even Boris turned pale, not to mention Alice.
“Guys, maybe it’s not necessary for the night, otherwise the toilet is outside, one of you will have to take me out at night,” she said.
- And why? In this practice, people are being offered, so we’ll make you the first offering,” Volodya teased her.
I shouldn’t have teased you. She had a strong imagination. She turned pale and her big eyes got even bigger.
- I read on: “After the Chinese invasion, he was forced into exile in India at the age of twenty-five.
Later, when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991 and Mongolia began to enjoy some religious freedom, many Mongolian monasteries sent their lamas to India to ask the Dalai Lama in Dharmasala to provide information about Bogdo Khan.
The Dalai Lama gave the official seal and the right to recognize and confirm the rebirth of His Grace the Ninth Khalkha Jetsun Dampa, the spiritual leader and holder of the line of succession of Buddhism in Mongolia. At the same time, he was officially enthroned. All this was accompanied by great celebrations and sincere rejoicing.” Boris put down the book for a moment and looked attentively at Alice, “listen, if this Lama is Bogdo Khan of Mongolia, then he had a harem. You could have been one of his wives.…Maybe you don’t need to be perfumed yet, maybe you’ll come in handy.
- And that this is an idea, we need to think about it, – Volodya supported.
- Maybe that’s enough, read on. Or in general, let me read it myself,” with these words, she jumped off her bed and, slapping bare feet on the floor, moved over to Boris.
- Well, it says here that he gave a lot of exercises everywhere, in America, Canada, India, and even in Russia.
“Uh, that won’t do,” Boris said, taking the printout away. So, it’s necessary, it’s not necessary, it can be skipped,” he muttered to himself, “but: “Khalkha Jetsun Dumpa is one of the most revered teachers of Kalachakra Tantra, Tara Tantra and Maitreya Tantra – the coming Buddha. All these lineage Teachings were passed down to him from Taranatha, a great Tantra practitioner and famous historical figure (born 1575 A.D.).”
In short, he is also a tantric. Well, hold on Aliska,” and continued reading again, “Khalkha Jetsun Dump is the holder and embodiment of all transmission lines. Before being recognized as an incarnation of Taranatha, he was known as Jamyan Chojye, who founded Drepung Monastery near Lhasa. In the Ningma tradition, he was Rongzong Lotsawa Chokyi Gyaltsen; in Kagyu, he was Baromba Dharma Wangchuk; in Sakya, he was known as the master of Kunga Drolchok. “
These names don’t mean anything to you, maybe you’ve met in previous lives,” Boris asked sarcastically, and then continued again, “After this incarnation, he was supposed to be reborn as Taranatha, but since by that time Taranatha’s mother was still very young – she was 14 years old – instead, he was born the son of an Indian king. That’s how he lived until he was 14. One day, standing on the roof of the palace, he saw his mother, who was a Dakini named Kandroma Yum Dorju Buka. She appeared in the sky and invited him to go with her. After that, he was reborn as Taranatha. Taranatha’s writings are of particular interest in connection with the flourishing period of Tantra in Indian Buddhism.”
Wow,” Boris exhaled, “maybe that’s enough, otherwise I might become too smart.”
- Okay, let me read, after all, we really need to know whose house we are in, – said Volodya, and taking the book, continued, – In his mature years, Taranatha, known as a very witty and funny man, often joked during the teachings about where he could be reborn in Next time. It is said that one of the Mongolian students present then prayed, ”Oh, please, Teacher, be reborn in Mongolia next time!”Perhaps this was the crucial condition for Taranatha’s next rebirth. The first Jetsun Dumpa, Tenpei Gyaltsen Rangjung Yeshe Dorje, was born the son of the king of Mongolia.” Well, that’s how he became Bogdo Khan, and then he was reborn by him many times, thereby bringing immeasurable benefits to the people of Mongolia.
It also says here that for many rebirths in a row he was a close friend of the Dalai Lama, and in one of his lives he was even a brother, they had common mentors.
And yet, for many years, the Tibetan government hid Bogdo Khan in India, because: “The Eighth Jetsun Dump led and supported his people during the tragic rise of communism in Russia, which later led to the almost complete “involvement” of Mongolia in the events in the USSR. The subsequent closure of borders and the destruction of monasteries led to the almost complete disappearance of Buddhism in Mongolia for the next 60 years.
Therefore, when the Ninth Khalkha Jetsun Dumpa was found and recognized at the age of four, with the help of Reting Rinpoche and the Regent in Lhasa, as well as other high lamas and state oracles, all this was kept secret from the official authorities due to the influence of the Stalin government and the ongoing discrimination of religion in Mongolia.”
Anyway, guys, we’re in trouble. – Volodya summed up, and put the printouts aside.
Boris wasn’t even playing his drums, he was staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, and crossing his arms over his chest, he was thinking. And it seemed that the future of all mankind depended on his thoughts now. Alice, covered with a colorful Tibetan rug, was still wrinkling her eyes, and it seemed that she did not want to think about anything. And Volodya sometimes scratched the top of his head, and sometimes his back under his shoulder blade. And it wasn’t clear if it depended on his line of thought, or if he didn’t want to wash in cold water.
“Well, Alice,” Boris finally said, “one of us will have to study after all. Since I have already tried to study and did not learn, my candidacy automatically disappears, Volodya tried and even learned. So it’s also a sin to retrain him. That leaves only you.
“How’s that?” “What is it?” the girl asked.
- As it is, you will learn from the Lama for all three of us, and by the end of the week we will check on you whether you have studied well. And don’t you dare embarrass us!
“But that’s not fair!” – Alice was indignant, we all live together, and I have to take my breath away alone!
- Well, we will help you. For example, we can feed you sometimes if we find something,” Volodya picked up, clearly liking the idea.
- Hello, and if you don’t find it?
- Then we’ll make Yogis out of you, I’ve heard that they can eat air. You just need to take a mouthful and swallow.
- Yes, come on. You should just be fooling around. We need to make a serious decision,” Alice waved her hand.
“Do you really think that I came here from far away to sit here in the house and learn some texts, we haven’t even gone to the waterfalls yet, and they say there’s even a pool at the bottom of Dharamsala,” Boris was indignant.
- What do you think, I don’t want to go to the waterfalls? – She was indignant.
“And girls can’t swim here,” he smiled.
“Yes, yes,” Volodya confirmed, “yes, and there are a lot of problems with you, the way the Indians stare at you, you’re just worried. And if you get wet and put to dry, then in general a tragedy can happen to someone. And then, imagine if they steal it, what will we tell your famous parents? They won’t let us go on stage until the end of time.
Alice was sitting on the bed, looking from one to the other in confusion. And her eyelashes grew longer and longer, until the first drops began to roll.
4.
But friendship was a sacred thing for her, and for this she could sacrifice even walks in Dharamsala. She began her studies with all care, although they did not take up so much of her time and she still had time for jogging. Alice, oddly enough, began to increase the duration of lessons for memorizing texts, as she began to find something interesting in them. At first, she didn’t even understand what it was, but then she began to catch herself thinking that the texts were somehow useful for her soul and opened up a new way of looking at the world. Moreover, the lyrics turned out to be melodious. According to an old tradition passed down by word of mouth, the Chod was set to a beautiful melody, which was sung to the Teacher by Dakinis, celestial inhabitants. And he heard them in his meditations and could even communicate with them.
Alice also wanted to communicate with them, and even more, maybe even become one of them. And then she would fly through the sky with other Dakinis, and surprise people by looking into the windows of multi-storey buildings.
And the Chod itself did not turn out to be such a terrible practice, as Volodya joked. On the contrary, it was a beautiful practice, full of love and compassion for all living beings, and the spirits were not just spirits, each spirit also represented our own obscurations and shortcomings. And the body was not just a body, our body was also a symbol of attachment to Samsara, and represented the entire universe.
And when Alice realized this, she stopped being afraid, on the contrary, a certain mystery that had shrouded dark gloomy places was thrown off.
She looked at the Teacher with admiration and began to suspect that she had inadvertently met a completely extraordinary and wise man. But for some reason I was afraid to tell the guys about my guesses.
Every evening, Rimpoche’s disciples from different countries, both those who lived in the house and those who lived somewhere nearby, gathered in the practice hall, which was made like a temple.
As always, Andrey came, cheerful beyond measure, and serious beyond measure at the ritual itself, he sat down in a place that was right behind the Teacher, invisible to his gaze, and mimicked whoever came into his field of vision.
Victoria, one of the old students, also came, modestly walked to the most honorable place in front of the Teacher, and looked at him questioningly. She was such a long-time student that she even began to partially forget the melody of the practitioners, but she still felt some strange indisputable right to his exclusive attention to her person.
Then a hooligan Mongolian nun would come in, shaking her hips, pushing the yawning ones, and she would sit down next to the Teacher, which she really had a right to, because she was the leader of the entire practice. That is, she sang, and the others joined in. With a deep inner world, weakly manifested in her behavior, she promised to become the most famous chodchitsa in Mongolia. Or she had already become one, but she didn’t know about it yet, or she just hadn’t told anyone.
Then there were other Mongolian monks who specially came to study with their historical Bogdo Khan. Importantly and with unprecedented dignity, they entered the temple and sat down in other prominent places and did not take their eyes off the Teacher’s house. They tried to study everything carefully, because later in Mongolia, they would be almost the only heirs of such a Great Teacher.
Sometimes the Canadians even came, a cheerful and eternally smiling Andrew, with a mournful and eternally unhappy Elsa.
The mulatto Arthur, who turned out to be Russian, came in. A tall girl with long wavy hair that practically covered her entire partially naked body.
Even out of curiosity, Boris and Volodya sometimes came in, and then disappeared again, wandering somewhere in the evenings.
And many many others.
Everyone looked at Alice rather skeptically. The news that they had asked to come to Rinpoche’s house just to get through a difficult period had long since spread through the house, so Alice was looked upon as a temporary decoration, but certainly not as a disciple of such a famous Lama. Some even openly condemned the guys for this. “How can you deceive a Teacher!” – they were outraged on the sidelines, “This is a huge bad karma, what ignorance, it would be better if she did not come here, she only shames herself. Well, of course, they’re rockers, what can you take from them.” they continued to lament.
Alice did not pretend to do more, modestly opening her mouth with everyone, she slowly memorized beautiful melodies and tried to play the domaru.
And it would have been like that. But one day the Teacher looked at her sternly and told her through an interpreter that in three days she should try to become a singer.
Alice’s heart sank, and an ominous silence appeared in the hall.
“I wonder how she’ll get out of it now?” – many people thought.
“Well, what?” Alice thought.
5.
“That’s it, I understand what Buddhism is,” Boris said, throwing the book on the bedside table.
“And what’s that?” Volodya asked.
- And then you correctly told the Lama about suffering. He was the one who taunted us, but we got scared. In short, Buddhist books say that: “Life is a sexually transmitted disease with one hundred percent fatal outcome.”
- And what exactly does it say in Buddhist books? Volodya asked in surprise.
- Yes, not like that, of course, I translated it into human language. Well, something like that, but I don’t like it. I still want to live.
Anyway, the money’s coming from Moscow tomorrow, and we’re getting out of here.
“How?” My teacher told me to try to practice in three days, that is, to become a singer,” Alice said, looking up from her book.
“Are you crazy?” We don’t need to live here anymore, so you don’t have to study anymore! Boris was indignant.
“Well, the Teacher said…” she stammered again.
“I’m your Teacher, I’m responsible to your parents,” he said, bending down right in front of her face.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Alice said firmly, and the boys looked at each other in surprise.
“What?” What kind of whims. Look at her, you’re not Bellita Woods giving concerts here yet.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she repeated even more firmly, “I need to sing the lead part, and then do whatever you want with me.”
- What are you going to sing there? You couldn’t learn the Russian text in Moscow for a month, but here you have the Tibetan text to a Mongolian melody.
- You can read the text from a piece of paper, but I’ve almost learned the melodies.
“Almost.” Shame on you here, no rehearsal, no watching. You’re the soloist of our band, if you embarrass yourself, you’ll embarrass all of us.
- Boris, it’s not important here. What matters is how you understand the meaning.
- Well, that’s it, the girl’s gone, – Boris left the room, slamming the door irritably.
“I think you’re up to something, too.” But we don’t have much time left, the ticket to Moscow is coming soon, and we haven’t stopped in Manali yet,” Volodya added and turned away with the book to the wall.
6.
The practice, where Alice was supposed to be the host, was scheduled for Sunday, and therefore a lot of people came, even those who had not appeared for a long time. And in case of failure, the news of their failure as artists could spread not only beyond the borders of Dharamsala, but also seep into Moscow. Boris and Volodya were obviously nervous to witness everything that was happening, and they took their seats closer in advance, but the monks who came from the monasteries pushed them to the edge.
The teachers were greeted standing up as always. When he walked through and sat down in his place, everyone began to make prostrations in concert, and it was completely unclear how this was possible in such a small crowded space.
After a minute, everything went quiet and there was silence. The teacher looked around at everyone with a good-natured look and said:
- New students from Russia recently came to us, they have completed the practice of Chod, and Alice will lead the practice today, – and he nodded in her direction.
But a whole minute passed, and Alice was silent. She stared straight ahead with glassy eyes and couldn’t even lift her guitar. Boris and Volodya strenuously stretched their heads and tried to whisper something to her, but because of the distance they could not.
Then the Teacher smiled again and said:
- You should always focus well before you start. And it’s even better if Alice and I start together,” and with these words he picked up Domara. And the whole hall, out of habit, raised their domaru too. Alice followed them all, and the first stupor seemed to have passed. She got in time with Rimpoche, and as long as the intro was going on, everything was fine. But when they came to the beginning, she was dumbfounded again, but then she caught herself and, remembering the first line, began to sing.
She sang softly and seemed to be doing well, but not the right melody at all, and when she was halfway through the sentence, she stopped, looked at the silent people and blushed to the roots of her hair. Then she found the eyes of her friends. She saw Boris’s sarcastically triumphant look and the disappointed Volodin, and suddenly she suddenly turned to Rimpoche and, taking a deep breath and turning her shoulders, began to sing in a powerful voice that seemed completely inappropriate for her delicate girlish fragility.
And a wave of strong vibration reverberated through the hall, openly and freely making its way through the silent rows of people sitting, and awakening their nervous impulses.
And Alice felt it, and some kind of calm confidence came into her mind, and some unprecedented awareness of what she was doing began to make sense clearly. The voice filled the entire hall, and the hall suddenly came to life, and echoed it with an equally powerful hum of several voices, and the practice began.
Alice entered again and again, and again and again the hall echoed her, united by a single mystery of what was happening, a single understanding of the innermost knowledge, bearing its significance from the depths of time, and only now it seemed to burst out.
The girl’s voice rang and floated far into the sky. And even the astonished Gods looked from their orbits and listened with delight to these amazing sounds. And already the Dakinis were hovering over the temple and peering into the windows. And Machig Labdron herself was smiling in the sky.
And Boris fell silent, stared with all his eyes and did not recognize his Aliska in this radiant and transformed Dakini.
“If you sang like that on stage,” his lips whispered, “then the whole world would be at our feet!”
And Volodya, too, fascinated and motionless, looked into her mouth, and did not understand where these wonderful sounds were coming from. And there was something respectful in the eyes of Rimpoche’s disciples. And even the monks ducked their heads.
And Alice sang and sang, as if something was flying from her heart, which was suddenly opened and enlarged in its increasing volume. And there was no end to it.
When the practice was over, the Lama brushed away the invisible moisture from his no longer young eyes and said:
- I was waiting for you, and you came to my house. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard of anyone doing this practice so beautifully and strongly.
And Alice got up from her seat, went up to him and bowed her head at his feet.
And he got up slowly, put his hand on her head, and walked down the aisle to the exit, beaming like the sun, and he couldn’t have been happier.
Elena Kshanty
