Lotus in the rain

lotus in the rain

In life, we cross our paths with a myriad of strangers. The meeting could be just for a few minutes, but some of these strangers leave everlasting memories in our life. This evening while visiting the memorial chorten, a very remarkable incident took place. The incident reminded me of a beautiful story about karma, grasping and letting go as told in Zen Buddhism.

Evening of the 19^th of July 2018: The residents of Thimphu were enjoying the cool evening air after a sudden downpour of the monsoon rain. Many citizens had flocked to the Memorial Chorten to relax their mind and body after a tiring summer’s day. The temperature had risen by 5 degrees compared to the same period last year. The rain this evening brought much respite to the sweltering heat in the capital town, at least for me.

I was walking towards the Chorten. The passage towards the relic built in 1974 in memory of the late 3^rd Druk Gyalpo was filled with rain water. People were being extra careful not to soak their newly bought shoes and ends of kira in the rain water. Just as I crossed the watery passage and managed to reach the cemented area, I heard a monk talking to me. He said to me in Dzongkha, ‘Sir can you help me out?’.  I immediately said yes, sure. But at the back of my mind, I wondered if he ran out of balance in his phone and wanted to make an urgent call from my phone. His next sentence surprised me: He said, ‘Can you carry me through this rain water as I am afraid I might wet my shoes?’ I said yes, sure. My response came almost immediately. I then carried the monk on my back and dropped him on the other side of the small pond formed due to the evening rain water. He said thank you to me and disappeared from my sight, never to meet again.

I made three customary rounds of the relic and found myself a seat by the far end of the chorten. I sat down and pondered over the incident which had just taken place. It occurred to me that perhaps a particular karmic seed that I planted in one of my infinite past lives was waiting to be ripened. And the moment had come this evening, the moment to ripen that karmic seed of mine, the moment to repay the monk’s kindness towards me. Perhaps, that monk, in his past life, carried me to the other side of a river and saved me from being drowned. As I drove home, I could not help but marvel at the way karma functions. Our thoughts and actions, however small they may be, bear karmic consequences. A good deed done countless number of eons bears karmic fruit in this life.  

Life is beautiful when we pay attention to small things.