The Living Buddha- Part- I

A cold winter night, it was. In a secluded hill was a big monastery. The chief monk was in charge of the place. It seemed to be a merciless night, a bone piercing chilling coldness blowing even indoors. The monk was sitting in the prayer hall chanting his mantras. In front of him sat a big Bronze Buddha with his ever-enigmatic smile intact.

In the middle f the prayers he was interrupted by a knock in the front door. That didn’t move him a bit. The knock continued, with increasing pace, forcing him to pause his prayers. Not so happy about the disturbance, he walked towards the front door, unhurried. When the doors opened, there stood a shivering, old man. He was obviously a destitute, whose only possessions seemed to be the clothes he was wearing.

“Welcome! What can I do for you?” greeted the monk. However, his voice and intonation revealed his irritation, clearly in contrast with his words. He was rather dissatisfied. In his view, the poor man was just an unwelcome intrusion for his prayers. The shivering old man said in a trembling voice, “Sir, I’m a pedestrian passing by. The winter is so harsh that I couldn’t continue. Can I please dwell here for the night”. He pleaded.

Monk was keen in finishing his paused prayers. He was preoccupied. The old man’s plea bypassed his ears, failing to gather his attention. He just said, “Sorry brother, you can’t stay here”. That was all. He slammed the door not waiting for the reply. Soon, he was back in front of Buddha, chanting, from where he left. About an hour later, the prayer was over. The old man’s episode was totally forgotten. The monk lay in his bed and slept in a minute.

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