Late afternoon. The endless cliff road was only filled with the sound of the hooves of a leisurely walking black buffalo, its tail swatting its hindquarters. Geon, sitting on the back of the buffalo, looked up at the sky to see a single eagle soaring alone far in the distance. With the sun hanging low on the mountains, only the shadow of the eagle was visible. Geon shaded his eyes with his hand, squinting to get a better look.
"Wow, that's a huge bird, Mr. Birasi. Look over there."
Hearing Geon's remark, Birasi, without even looking where Geon was pointing, casually nodded and said in a gentle voice,
"That's called Garuda."
"Sorry? Garuda? Is that the bird's name, Garuda?"
"There was a sage named Kashyapa long ago. He had two beautiful wives, named Kadru and Vinata. Kadru wished to have a thousand splendid serpents, while Vinata wanted her sons to be mightier than Kadru's children."
"A myth related to that bird?"
"Yes, listen. Eventually, Kadru laid a thousand eggs, and Vinata laid only two. After 500 years, a thousand serpents emerged from Kadru's eggs, but Vinata's remained unhatched. Unable to bear it any longer, Vinata broke one egg, only to find a half-formed embryo, which became Maruna, embodying the redness spreading across the dawn sky. Maruna, cursing his mother, flew into the sky and is said to still dwell there."
"Wow, that's fascinating. The redness in the dawn sky was Vinata's first son, then what about Garuda?"
"After Maruna cursed himself and left, Vinata patiently waited another 500 years, and from her second egg, Garuda was born. Garuda is the greatest of birds, the mount of the guardian of the universe, and also a sun deity, carrying the sun westward on its wings when it does not move by itself."
Geon looked at the eagle with newfound admiration and said,
"That's incredible. But the mount of the universe's guardian? Who's that?"
"Just as he was about to continue..."
Suddenly, Birasi's body shook, and he turned his head sharply to the left, his voice now rough and coarse,
"Likes to boast about being the guardian of the universe, wrapping cowardice in words of peace."
Birasi, with his head still turned to the left, glanced at Geon and grumbled,
"That bird-brain is just some coward that was tamed by someone who wandered into heaven. Forget about the guardian of the universe; consider my words nonsense."
Suddenly, Birasi began hitting his own face with the tobacco pipe he was holding.
"Ouch! Hey, stop that!!"
Geon laughed awkwardly,
"Is he having another episode? Haha."
After a while of hitting his own head with the tobacco pipe, Birasi asked Geon,
"By the way, Mr. Birasi, aren't you getting hungry? I hear thunder and lightning in my stomach."
Holding his hand that held the tobacco pipe, Birasi replied,
"We'll come across a place to rest before the sun sets. Just bear with it a little longer."
"Ah...yes.. You seem to know the area well."
"Of course, I've lived here for tens of thousands of years."
"Sorry? Tens of thousands of years?"
Birasi shook his head briskly, straightening his posture and turned back to Geon,
"Ahem, no, I was speaking nonsense again. A place for us to eat and sleep will appear soon, just hold on a bit longer."
"Ah...okay, I understand. Haha..."
Birasi's words were precise. After riding the buffalo for about 30 more minutes, a lodge for trekkers appeared. The one-story lodge had a large terrace and was built midway up the mountain, blurring the distinction between the first floor and the basement. When the buffalo stopped in front of the lodge, Birasi got off and said,
"Let's go in. I don't have any money, so you'll have to take care of it."
"Ah, sure! I got it, Mr. Birasi."
As Geon jumped down from the buffalo to book a room, Birasi, left alone, tapped the buffalo's head with his tobacco pipe and said,
"Go graze somewhere and come back tomorrow."
The black buffalo, rolling its red eyes, slowly walked back into the forest. Birasi flicked the tobacco ashes from his pipe onto the ground and entered the lodge. As Geon was pre-paying at the counter, he said to Birasi,
"There's only one room left. Is it okay if we share, Mr. Birasi?"
"Of course, who am I to be choosy in a situation where I owe a favor? Let nature take its course
."
"Alright, then we'll share the room tonight, haha."
After completing the payment, Geon came out to the terrace to have a snack. The terrace had several tables set up, but it seemed no other guests who had booked rooms had arrived yet, as it was empty. When Geon came out, he saw Birasi already sitting in the best spot, gazing at the mountains. Geon pulled out a chair across from Birasi and said,
"The owner said the best food here is chow mein and momos, so I ordered that. Is that okay with you?"
Birasi, who had been looking at the mountains, simply nodded without saying a word. Geon turned his chair to sit beside Birasi, both enjoying the cool mountain breeze and the scenery in silence. Birasi, who had been quietly observing the mountains, looked towards the sun setting behind them and asked,
"Do you make music?"
"Yes, oh? How did you know?"
"You're carrying a guitar."
"Ah, I forgot I had my guitar with me, haha."
Birasi glanced at Geon and asked,
"What kind of music do you play?"
Geon pondered for a moment, resting his chin on his hand, and then said,
"I'm still a student, so I can't really say I play a specific type of music."
"So, you don't have your music yet?"
"I do have a few pieces, but it's hard to define them by a specific genre, haha."
"Do you plan to make a living from music in the future?"
"I suppose so? I made some money recently, and it seems enough to live on, haha."
Birasi stared intently at Geon. Feeling as if he was standing naked in the middle of a market under Birasi's gaze, Geon made an embarrassed face, and Birasi tapped the table with his tobacco pipe and said,
"Money is a fine servant but a terrible master. It's like fertilizer; it's meaningless unless it's spread."
Geon gazed blankly at Birasi, who suddenly sounded like a wise sage. After a moment of silence, Birasi continued,
"Since you're still learning, let me give you some advice. Read a lot of books, especially the old ones. The wisdom from our ancestors may contain folly, but it also holds the truths of the world. It's foolish to take the lessons from such books at face value. Embed your thoughts in them and express yourself. And if that becomes music, it will likely result in better music."
Geon straightened up and said,
"Thank you for the advice, Mr. Birasi. But not all books are necessarily good. Some books make me frown because they don't align with my thoughts."
Birasi nodded and said,
"Some books just need to be skimmed. Others should be understood, and some need to be savored deeply. The fact that they differ from your worldview might just mean they challenge your preconceptions. That doesn't mean they're wrong. Don't read books just to find fault or to blindly accept everything. Read to think deeply and reflect."
Geon, absorbing Birasi's words, fell into deep thought. He slowly considered how he had approached reading and how he had categorized books into worthwhile and not based on his own criteria. As Geon lost himself in thought, Birasi tilted his head to the left, his demeanor changing from gentle to fierce as he spoke to the contemplative Geon,
"I love music and dance. I listen to a lot of it and sing along. But some people's music, their melodies or lyrics, are just terrible."
Geon quietly closed his eyes and asked,
"What about them was so bad?"
Birasi tapped the table with his tobacco pipe a few times, showing three fingers, and said,
"People make three crucial mistakes. Not everyone does, but artists who move others with their art must eradicate these three mistakes before creating their work."
"What are the three mistakes?"
Birasi raised one finger and explained,
"The first mistake is anthropocentrism. Saying birds cry sadly or calling turtles slow are examples. Why are bird cries sad? Do we know their emotions? Slow compared to what? Humans?"
Raising two fingers, Birasi continued,
"The second mistake comes from personal experience or prejudice. Acting as if one's experience is the truth of the world. An individual's world is narrow, and the lives of others one can encounter are limited. That's why reading about and learning from the lives of others is essential, recognizing that difference doesn't mean wrong."
With three fingers raised, Birasi concluded,
"The third mistake is blindly following the wrong norms. Errors occur when people blindly trust traditions, books, or authority figures. For example, thinking anything different from a famous author's setting is wrong. Or, living according to flawed human laws without attempting to change them."
Geon, still with his eyes closed, listening intently to Birasi, sank deeper into thought. Birasi shook his head, tilted it to the right, smiled gently, and said in a soft voice,
"And sing about forgiveness. Forgiveness is the role of a king, but revenge is the act of a lowly person. And love. It might be impossible to become wiser while loving someone, but try loving the world instead of just a person. Loving oneself alone makes society harsh and barren."
Geon, smiling gently at Birasi's words, listened as Birasi spoke again,
"Value a dignified attitude over physical beauty. Beauty is like summer fruit and doesn't last long. Ah! That might not apply to you. Anyway... cherish those around you. Seeking advice from a wise friend is an even wiser action. The spectator always analyzes the situation better than the player."
As the food arrived and Birasi finished his meal, Geon's contemplation continued. Birasi, not wanting to disturb Geon's thoughts, silently finished his meal, placed the leftovers in front of Geon, and quietly retreated to their room.
Above Geon, lost in thought with his eyes closed, the massive shadow of Garuda watched over him.
Late into the night, after much thought, Geon finally fell asleep as dawn approached. When he awoke the next day, Birasi was already not in the bed.
"Where could Mr. Birasi have gone?"
After searching around the lodge for a while, Geon approached the counter to ask.
"Excuse me. Have you seen the person who came with me yesterday?"
The keeper, wearing a traditional Nepalese hat called a Dhaka topi and sporting a beard, replied in English.
"If you are referring to the person who rode a buffalo, he left early in the morning. When I asked him where he was headed so early, he just smiled and rode off on his buffalo."
"Ah, I see. Thank you."
Geon went back to his room to pack his scattered belongings into his backpack.
"I hope he doesn't get lost, not being in his right mind and all. I wonder if I could meet him again at Pashupatinath Temple. It would have been nice to at least say goodbye after learning so much from him yesterday, perhaps even treat him to breakfast."
Before leaving the lodge, Geon asked the keeper for directions to Pashupatinath Temple and headed in the direction the keeper pointed. The path along the sheer cliffs soon ended, and a neatly paved road appeared. Occasionally, cars passed by, and people heading to the festival began to appear. As he neared the temple, the crowd grew thicker, until it felt like walking along a busy street in Korea's nightlife district on a Friday night.
Wearing sunglasses and observing the Nepalis, Geon spotted the majestic Pashupatinath Temple in the distance. He took off his sunglasses for a better look at the grand structure of the temple.
"It's huge! How many stories is that?"
While Geon was admiring the temple, a Nepali, startled by Geon's presence, shouted,
"Deva! It's the Deva! The Deva has come to the Hindu temple!"
The people walking around Geon turned their attention towards him. Feeling awkward under their gazes, Geon raised his hand in greeting.
"Ahaha, hello?"
An elderly woman approached him, tears welling up in her eyes as she grasped Geon's hand, and people began to kneel and bow towards him. Geon looked down at the elderly woman holding his hand, confused and overwhelmed.
"Ah...ahaha, yes, thank you. But I'm not a Deva, grandmother."
Their conversation went nowhere, as one spoke Nepali and the other English. Feeling embarrassed and unable to break free from the elderly woman, Geon stood there helplessly until foreign tourists, noticing the scene, exclaimed.
"Kyaa! It's Kay!"
"Where, where!? Wow! It's really Kay!"
"What? Where? Wow, it's really Kay! I heard he was in Nepal, thought we might run into him if we're lucky!"
Fortunately, the crowd of Nepalis gathering around Geon naturally blocked the tourists from getting closer. Looking around in embarrassment, Geon spotted an elder holding a staff standing in front of the temple and waved frantically.
"Chief Timo! Chief Timo! Please help me!"
Chief Timo, who had been solemnly watching the people entering the temple, looked surprised to see Geon and hurried over after instructing his attendant. The Nepalis made way for Chief Timo as he approached.
"Deva! You have arrived!"
Geon placed a hand on his forehead and weakly smiled.
"I'm not a Deva."
"Haha, yes. Deva."
"Please, help me out here, chief."
"Ah, yes. Of course, Deva. Make way! The Deva has come to celebrate Shivaratri!"
Waving his staff, Chief Timo cleared a path through the crowd. Pointing forward with his staff, he said,
"Please proceed, Deva."
As Geon approached the temple entrance, a man dressed in Nepali police uniform approached him, wagging his finger.
"Foreigners are not allowed inside the Hindu temple."
Suddenly, Chief Timo swung his staff, hitting the policeman on the head. The policeman, taken aback, looked at Chief Timo in disbelief and then bowed deeply.
"I greet Brahmin Timo."
"This person is the Deva. Open the way."
The policeman, shocked, looked at Geon again and quickly bowed.
"Please forgive us!"
Geon hurriedly pulled the policeman to his feet.
"No, it's okay. Please stand up."
As the policeman stood up, touched by Geon's gesture, he stepped aside, allowing Geon and Chief Timo to enter the temple. Geon asked,
"Aren't foreigners usually allowed in? I thought Hinduism was a religion of inclusiveness."
Chief Timo smiled kindly and explained,
"Hinduism is a religion of inclusivity, but it is also more exclusive than any other religion. Unless you are born a
Hindu, you are not recognized as a true Hindu, no matter how devout you are. Thus, only true Hindus are allowed to participate in sacred rituals."
"Ah, like Catholicism or Protestantism's concept of original sin."
"Similar context, Deva."
"What's that over there?"
Geon pointed curiously to where men and women were bathing under traditional showers in front of the temple, undressed from the waist up, even in front of onlookers.
"That's the first ritual to become a devout descendant of Shiva. You cleanse your body and enter barefoot. I have already done so. Will you, Deva?"
"Me too?"
"Yes, if you wish to participate in the ceremony, it is a must. Otherwise, you'll have to stay outside the temple like those foreign tourists."
Looking back at the entrance where the police were preventing tourists from getting a closer look inside the temple, Geon saw tourists only able to view the temple from outside. Reluctantly, he took off his upper clothing and shoes and waited for his turn in line. The man standing in front of Geon, tired of waiting, stretched and turned around, making eye contact with Geon. Hastily lowering his hands, he respectfully joined his palms together, stepped aside, and gestured forward. Confused, Geon looked at Chief Timo for explanation.
"He is offering his place to you. Please, go ahead."
"Thank you, Danyabad."
As Geon thanked him with a traditional gesture, the man bowed deeply in response. Hearing the sound, the people in line turned around and, upon seeing Geon, bowed deeply and made way for him. The path to the bathing area was clear as the thirty people in line stepped aside. Feeling embarrassed, Geon scratched his cheek and moved forward, and as he passed by, everyone bowed even deeper.
The rusty pipe's water was similar in color to the Bagmati River flowing beside the temple. Smelling the water, Geon wrinkled his nose but, seeing the many Nepalis watching him, quickly washed himself. The cold water refreshed him, and he felt rejuvenated. After bathing, Chief Timo handed him a large towel and instructed,
"Do not wear your shoes, and proceed to offer your prayers."
As Geon dried himself and walked towards the temple, he noticed people sitting on the stairs, smoking. Pointing them out, he asked,
"Why are those people only wearing underwear? Are they beggars?"
"They are called Sadhus, ascetic practitioners. It might be hard for a foreigner to distinguish them from beggars."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend."
"It's alright. They are sacred ascetics who use the money they beg to buy offerings for the gods. However, if begging is considered being a beggar, then they are not entirely wrong, haha."
Following Chief Timo, Geon ascended to the place of worship. Although walking barefoot was slightly uncomfortable, the cool sensation of the ground was not entirely unpleasant. Geon embraced the unfamiliar feeling under his feet and suddenly asked,
"Chief, everyone seems to be carrying something. Are those offerings? I didn't bring anything; what should I do?"
"Haha, I have prepared something for you. Bring it here!"
Upon Chief Timo's command, an attendant brought a wrapped black goat kid. Handing the package to Geon, Chief Timo said,
"This will be your offering, Deva."
"A black goat? It looks cute. Adult black goats look a bit scary, haha."
"Don't get too attached. It will be beheaded and offered to the gods as a sacrifice."
"Even such a young goat?"
"Haha, it's part of the ritual."
"Ah, I see..."
Geon looked at the innocent kid goat, seemingly unaware of its fate, with pity before carrying the package and following Chief Timo. The Nepalis in front of them made way as they saw Chief Timo and Geon approaching.
Soon, reaching the top of the stairs, Geon placed the goat in front of a bas-relief of Shiva and followed Chief Timo's lead, closing his eyes and joining his palms together. After a moment of silent prayer, as Chief Timo opened his eyes, Geon asked,
"Are you making a wish? Asking for something?"
With his palms still joined and eyes open, Chief Timo laughed and replied,
"Hindus do not ask for wishes from the gods. We simply hope to flow according to the will of the gods. It's different from the carnivals in the West. It's a festival to worship the deity itself, not to dance and make noise, Deva."
"Why have a religion if you don't ask the gods for anything?"
"Worshiping the gods who created us is a natural virtue humans should have. Hindus don't seek gods to fulfill their desires, Deva."
"Interesting."
Geon spotted the beggars he had seen earlier. Called Sadhus by Chief Timo,
they wore only white underwear and had their faces painted, solemnly placing the offerings they had begged for in front of Shiva's altar and bowing deeply. Geon could not find any traces of a hard life marked by poverty on their faces. Watching them offer their begged-for sacrifices to the gods and walk away with light steps appeared almost sacred.
As he watched them leave, Geon noticed someone standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh! Mr. Birasi! You were here!"