you sure we can be successful in our quest without reading the scroll?”
The monk shrugged. “It is not for me to know. My duty is to place this in your care and fulfill my other two obligations. Come. Sit here, young lady, and let me anoint your eyes.”
He pulled a chair over for me, approached me with the green vial, and addressed us, “Tell me, Mr. Kadam, in your studies, have you come across a people called the Chewong?”
Mr. Kadam took a seat. “I confess . . . no, I have not.”
I sniggered softly. That’s an amazing fact in and of itself. Mr. Kadam not knowing something? Is it even possible?
“The Chewong are from Malaysia . . . fascinating people. There is tremendous pressure on them now to convert to Islam and mainstream into Malaysian society; however, there are several who fight for their rights to keep their language and culture. They are a peaceful people, nonviolent. In fact, they have no words for warfare, corruption, conflict, or punishment in their language. They have many interesting beliefs. One noteworthy ideal relates to communal property. They feel it’s dangerous and wrong to eat alone, so they always share their meals with one another. But, the belief that applies to you concerns the eyes.”
I licked my lips nervously. “Umm, what exactly do they do to the eyes? Serve them for supper?”
He laughed. “No, nothing like that. They say their shamans or religious leaders have cool eyes while the average person is considered to have hot eyes. A person with cool eyes can see different worlds and can discern things that may be hidden from ordinary view.”
Mr. Kadam was intrigued and began asking many questions while my eyes darted to the green, oily liquid that the monk was dripping onto his dry, papery fingers.
“Uh, I have to warn you that I have an eye phobia. My parents had to hold me down to get drops in my eye when I had pinkeye as a child.”
“Not to worry,” the Ocean Teacher said. “I will anoint your closed eyelids and share a few words of wisdom with you.”
I relaxed considerably and obediently closed my eyes. I felt his warm fingers stroke across my closed lids. I expected the gooey stuff to drip down my cheeks, but it was thicker, more like a lotion, and smelled sharp and medicinal. The smell tickled my nose and reminded me of the menthol rub my mother used to put on my chest to help me breathe easier when I was sick. My eyelids tingled and turned icy cold. I kept them closed while he spoke softly.
“My advice for you, young one, is to tell you that the very purpose of life is to be happy. In my own limited experience, I have found that, as we care for others, the greater is our own sense of well-being. It puts the mind at ease. It helps remove whatever fears or insecurities we may have and gives us the strength to cope with any obstacles we encounter. Also, when you need guidance, meditate. I have often found answers through meditation. Lastly, remember the old saying that ‘love conquers all’ is true. As you give love, you will find it returns to you magnified.”
I carefully cracked open my eyes. I felt no pain or discomfort, but they were slightly sensitive. Now it was Kishan’s turn. We switched places, and the monk dipped his fingertips once more. Kishan closed his eyes, and the substance was swiped across his closed eyelids.
“Now for you, black tiger. You are young of body but old of soul. Remember, no matter what sort of difficulties you must endure and no matter how painful your experiences, you must not lose hope. Losing faith is the only thing that can truly destroy you. The lamas say, ‘To conquer yourself and your weaknesses are a greater triumph than to conquer thousands in battle.’
“You have a responsibility to help lead your family in the right direction. This includes your immediate family as well as your global family. Good intentions are not sufficient to create a positive outcome; you must act. As you take part and become actively engaged, answers to your questions will appear. Lastly, like a great rock is not disturbed by the buffetings of the wind, the mind of a judicious man is steady. He exists as a stanchion, a stalwart support. Others can cling to him, for he will not falter.”
The Ocean Teacher put the stopper back in the