 |
| 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.
