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The Master Director |
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Science dies weeping, Wisdom dies laughing ~Laxmi Prasad |
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Gurudev, spinning the world |
I am presently putting the final touches on my next book, entitled The Master Director, which tells the story of my evolving relationship with an enigmatic Himalayan spiritual master, a Tibetan Buddhist lama known to his thousands of followers as Gurudev. In this book skepticism meets its match in charisma and teeters on the brink of devotion, saintliness encounters dangerous politicians and even rides in their car, and in an exchange of chocolate and flowers the author buys safety after asking uncomfortable questions and lives to tell the tale.
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“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to Darjeeling for some time. It might not be safe for you…” The lama was in the next room. It was two in the morning. He was trying to calm his attendants down. I think the boys wanted to kill me. This was my last day with Gurudev. I’d met Gurudev by happy chance four years earlier when I went wandering in Sikkim, just north of Darjeeling. I’d gone there to flee the aftermath of the assassination attempt on the ruler of the Darjeeling Hills, who was despised as a dictator. From the moment I met this enigmatic Tibetan Buddhist lama, he’d taken me close. I’d traveled with him to innumerable events at which hundreds and often thousands of people would gather to be in his presence. I’d been practically adopted by his family and had what I’d been told was almost unprecedented access to this man I came to realize was a true spiritual master. As a skeptic by nature, I was forever having to pierce through the layers of what I came to regard as his disciples’ delusional ideas of his ability to perform miracles, be in two places at the same time, know what any of us was thinking—the common exuberance surrounding an Indian guru. Yet whenever I cut through the surrounding fog, I felt the tremendous mystery and wonder evoked by the presence of this saintly figure who devoted his every waking moment to giving teachings on a love that is universal. His love was all the greater by being entirely impersonal, love before it divided into love for anything in particular. It was like a beacon, shining on whatever stood before it. I had basked in that light and felt graced by the opportunity to experience it, fully aware of the preciousness of the gift. Since Gurudev had never spent time with a Westerner it is not surprising that he was examining me with as much interest and astonishment as I examined him. Maybe that’s why he liked me being there. He appreciated the spirit of inquiry with which I challenged him. It was when I found out that he was the guru of the dictatorial leader and was the spiritual guide of Darjeeling’s ruling party that I felt my moral compass spinning and knew I had to challenge him on it. I had to understand whether he was corrupted by his dark associations or seeking out darkness as a place to shine his light. Fully aware of the explosiveness of the topic, I tried to speak to him in private. When that proved impossible, I asked my pointed questions in public. While he answered my questions to my complete satisfaction, with what I considered great wisdom, some of his young attendants, rough young guys who saw to his every need, didn’t take well to my critical questioning of both the guru and the leader in a single breath. It was then that things got dangerous. |
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Gurudev with his book of divination, an English/Nepali dictionary full of scraps of newspaper headlines that could have come straight out of the pages of a short story of Jorge Luis Borges |
The author with Gurudev, Karma Wangchuk Gurung Tulku Rinpoche |
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Table of Contents Part I
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© All Text and Photos Copyright Thomas K. Shor 2012 Copyright Notice