The heartless conqueror

The Monestery

The young girl had come from a day's work of weaving. She couldn't wait to journey the seashore for collecting seashells! She scanned the surface of the shores, her delicate fish-like eyes searching for the right spot.

To her disappointment, these were all old spots. Her father had told her not to venture too far. She decided to move a little farther off and watch how the seashore would fare.

With her twine-woven sack, she skipped along the dunes of sand which were piling up along the shores. The roads near the beach were mostly of sand and stones, barely making out a shape from the seagrass.

She decided to go to the women's' group, getting bored of her frolicking, and not finding any suitable shell for that day.

'Maybe tomorrow new ones will come', she thought.

The girl scanned her surroundings for the proper direction. 

Seagrass swept the air in the distance, coarse sand clung to her feet. Many palm trees lined the area, and ox carts passed by. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized the unfamiliarity of the place.

Where was she? Had she gone too far? She refused to believe that she was lost.

"I just need to do some searching..."

She became more cautious as she took to walking the side of the road, careful of the oxen carts that passed by.

She trudged on and on, looking this way and that. Then her mind really started to race, and panic started beating at her like alarming gongs.

She ran through the roads, rocks scratched at her feet, sand gathered between her toes, she ran and ran, her stomach tightening at the instinctive resolution to fear.

She kept on running until she had lost her breath and small beads of sweat formed. She heaved her breath in and out heavily. Stomach clenching in each effort, for she was too prideful to accept fear. Her ear twitched.

Her eyes glanced.

What was the humming sound?

It was a transfixing sound, and without noticing it, the child started walking towards its direction. She tried to make out the words as she got closer. 

As she drew nearer and nearer.

"Buddham... saranam... gacchami..."

Her eyes grew wide.

"...Dhammam... saranam... gacchami..."

It was beautiful! The very simplicity of it, the deep aura it had.

"...Sangham...saranam... gaccham..."

The multitude of huts fawned different aspects of nature engulfing them. Flowers bloomed with vines twirling upon the ground and the walls. People in simple orange robes and many with shining-clean heads hummed about the place melodiously. Small streams of water trickled throughout the place.

The little girl then realized how thirsty she was.

A young monk's eyes softened as he noticed her. He bent down on his knees.

"Child, are you alright?"

The little girl seemed hesitant. The monk laughed as he realized the cautiousness of the child.

His laughter tinkled, with no sense of teasing, but a laughter of genuine happiness and tranquility.

"It is fine", he said, "We are monks. Like there are sadhus and rishis, thus, we are monks."

The little girl seemed to ponder. "What are...monks?"

The man smiled. His eyes turned to a figure molded from clay.

The little girl followed his gaze to find a clay figure of a man meditating. He had curly hair neatly bundled into a bun at the top, and the deep indentions of his closed eyes bore the resemblance to a truly peaceful being.

"That...is the Buddha".

The girl's eyes stayed on the figure as the man continued.

"He is our guru, our teacher. One who is enlightened, one who owns nothing, but has everything. We monks follow our teacher, and give up all we have so that we too can attain the ultimate truth."

The girl turned to him. "What is it! What is the truth?"

The monk smiled, "I'm afraid I am incapable of answering that question, for I myself am currently searching for the answer."

The child's gaze remained on the monk. It was a pure gaze, a gaze of innocence and longing for the truth which no ordinary child could carry.

The monk then noticed how dirty and tired she looked. Her long wavy hair which could be beautiful was mangled and sticky from the heat. 

She must be thirsty.

"Come, you must be thirsty."

The child obeyed, this time with full trust.

After she had full-filled her thirst to her heart's content, the monk asked her, "Child, what is your name"?

She looked up at him with her eyes that carried the dark hues of the ocean waves, and the delicacy of eyes like a fish.

"Kaurvaki."