Many Little Stories in Mysore

A birds-eye view of Mysore

One place to visit once in a lifetime as an ardent follower of Buddhism is Mysore – the sore cleanser of the life, they say. It is one of the centers of religious discourses and higher studies. Therefore, the place is much worshiped and known all over. The golden temple is the main attraction in the locality. Popularly established by the late Penor Rinpoche, the greatest Tibetan saint and lama, the monastery holds hundreds of monks, thousands of devotees from across the world. Though, the Nyingmapa sect of religion is practiced mostly, but there are many other monasteries in an around; like Dalai Lamas, Shedras, nunneries, etc for an assorted group of people.

It was three of us to stay there for a night. Our visit was mainly to see the late kudung/body of Penor Rinpoche. Not only we were sanctified by the sacred kudung, but we also visited many illustrious temples. Our Lopen, who was known to junior Sangay explained every significant history of everything. We were impressed. Everything had a story. A small stone displayed was said to be the heaviest that no one could lift. And there was grief-stricken, a very crossed/crying Guru Rinpoche, and there was a depiction of the hell…and it went on. It was only a chorten – a wish-fulfilling chorten that most people circumambulated. There was a story behind this, like everything. Visit and know. It is worth it.

Monks were not supposed to eat meat, but it killed me when our guide monk comfortably ordered chicken kabab. I felt pain in my stomach. I was really in the wrong place to order chicken myself in front of him, instead, I ordered mushroom Manchuria. Sangay instead preferred onions slices than chicken Kabab. We told that sangay should buy kilos of onions from Mysore. True. With the change of time and places, we like different things.

And Tshering is no ordinary guy, a person who in the beginning was the most on the go, sleeps in reality. Tshering got a kind of sleeping disease upon reaching Mysore. Tshering didn’t talk much, because he had a sore on his tongue. I told him not to kiss too much. Our guide Lopen told us that one gets impregnated by sleep, or freshen our mind, because of the power of the religious sanctity. I guess Tshering had been carrying all religious holiness and sacredness that made him so tired and sleepy. He slept a day, a night. I was like cock, every time waking him up to go and visit monasteries.

And there was a group of girls, who had come to see monks in the monasteries. They were having a good time with monks, supposedly trulkus. Yes, now about trulkus, one of the monks told me that Mysore is the factory of trulkus. Hundreds of trulkus are just trulkus. The late Penor Ripoche being very compassionate and humane accepted whoever came to him saying trulku. Even if you have gone declaring yourself as trulku, the Rinpoche would have recognized. This was what some monks told me. No, I don’t want to also. I said to them. I have seen so many fake trulkus walking out with unimaginable things; money, women, rape, murder, etc. I told them. A good example was what we/monks had seen just in the monastery’s guest house, a moment ago. Trulkus were sleeping in the same room where a group of girls were sleeping.  Why do women like monks? It really burns my eyes.

And Tshering had a headache every time someone talked about how unfaithful some women were. And with his headache, he went to sleep, peacefully. It killed me.