by Linda Hawley
“Thank you. That’s why we’re fighting the good fight, right?” I said.
Aarushi and Aahan nodded, while Shubham’s head remained still. Aarushi then stood, with all of us following.
“Why don’t we have dinner together and then say our farewells?” Aarushi suggested. “The three of us are leaving together tomorrow, just after Amrit Vela.”
“We would enjoy a final meal together,” I nodded with a smile.
After parting ways outside our conference room, Chow and I walked the University grounds.
“What was going on with Shubham?” I asked Chow once we were alone.
“I sense there is something we do not know about him. I was careful not to explain exactly how the virus works, because I felt uncomfortable with his questions.”
“I noticed that you didn’t tell him you changed the algorithm and the logic of the computer itself. I thought that was a pretty significant omission. You don’t trust him?”
“No.”
Reflexively, I turned my head to look at Chow as we walked. For him not to trust a senior GOG member was very significant. I would have to be on my guard with Shubham at dinner and not reveal anything further.
The climate on Mount Abu was cool and soothing as we walked. As we strolled the trail leading up to the garden behind the Universal Peace Hall, I paid attention to the rhythm of our shoes hitting the path, as the spicy flower scents permeated my being. The visual delight of the blooming flowers aided the journey.
After we walked quietly for some time, Chow gently asked, “Since we have an extra day tomorrow, would you like to go explore some of the Jain temples on Mount Abu?” He looked over at me. “I would really like to see the Dilwara temples—they are carved of white marble,” he said excitedly.
“Ooh…and I know how much you like white marble,” I said gently, teasing him about its abundance in his Vancouver apartment.
He smiled. “I do, and I am not ashamed of it,” Chow said in mock seriousness and then grinned.
Chapter 34
MOUNT ABU, INDIA
The Year 2015
At dinner, we enjoyed ourselves and were surprised when Shubham behaved light and cheerful, seeming to have lost his earlier intensity. It made for a pleasant evening, and I didn’t need to be on guard. After dinner, I walked in the garden with Aahan, while Chow met with Aarushi.
“I’ve enjoyed coming to know you in the time you’ve been here,” Aahan said to me as we strolled.
“I feel the same about you. I believe we are parting friends.”
He smiled and nodded. “Ann, you must remember that you have a great many spiritual gifts.”
I remained silent, but nodded in acknowledgement. Being in Aahan’s presence filled me with peace, and I felt stillness in me as we walked.
“When the spiritual masters merge a pure heart with the power of their mind, great events can occur. Change can happen. This special place we are in…” He raised his hands, gesturing to our surroundings. “It has a powerful vibration of peace.”
He looked at me, and I nodded in agreement.
“As you know, many pilgrims are traveling here this season. There are many who have experienced insight on their path towards enlightenment while staying on Mount Abu.”
He stopped speaking and looked at me expectantly, as though I had something to tell him. I considered what he said and reflected on my own experience here.
“If there was only one way to explain the growth I’ve experienced on Mount Abu, I would say that I feel lighter.”
“The vegetarian cuisine appeals to you,” he spoke softly and then giggled.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at Aahan; it was unusual for him to joke.
“Since I’ve been here, I can sense God’s purpose for me. I also feel my deceased husband very near. I’ve been dreaming of him every night, but I don’t dream of things we’ve experienced together. Instead, I dream of us having a future together. It’s the strangest thing.”
“There is a Hindi saying: ‘Pratyakshya ko praman ki aavashykta nahi.’”
I smiled; Aahan knew that I did not know Hindi. I waited for the explanation. It didn’t come.
“Aahan, are you planning to tell me the meaning?”
“Meditate on this before you leave Mount Abu, Ann: Things that are visible do not need proof for their existence.”
I let it seed in my being, wondering what would grow.
Chapter 35
MOUNT ABU, INDIA
The Year 2015
Chow and I met up with Aarushi and Aahan at breakfast.
“Where’s Shubham?” I asked.
“He wasn’t well this morning. He will wait and return to Udaipur tomorrow. Aahan and I will fly home today. Our wives are expecting us.”
“We are going to the Dilwara temples today, then leaving tomorrow. Should we offer to drive him down the mountain?” I asked them.
“He told me that he knows one of the pilgrims and will ride down the mountain with him tomorrow. He’s all sorted out,” Aarushi explained.
I wasn’t about to try to figure out Shubham, so I said, “Okay,” while Chow remained silent.
After breakfast, we had our farewells with Aarushi and Aahan. I would miss my friend.
Chow and I took a twenty-minute bus ride to the Dilwara temples. The bus was only half-full, but it reeked of a cacophony of smells, which sidetracked me from enjoying the scenic journey. By the time we arrived at the first temple, I was scent-saturated, and exiting the bus was a tremendous relief to my olfactory. Chow thought it was humorous.
There were five temples; all of them were built between 800 and 1200 AD. From the exterior, none of the temples were very exciting to look at. But when crossing the thresholds, the interiors were unparalleled in beauty, and reverence was the only possible response. Intricate marble carvings adorned ceilings and pillars. One extraordinary fact was that these structures were built at a time when the only available transport for slabs of marble were elephants. Not only was the marble carried on the backs of elephants, there were no roads on this 1200-meter-high remote mountain. The fact that five temples were built this way was unimaginable. Chow and I were both deeply affected by our visit.
By dinnertime, we had returned to the Brahma Kumaris University. Our last night on Mount Abu was a silent dinner for all present. It was a perfect end to our visit.
Chapter 36
INDIA
The Year 2015
We descended Mount Abu towards Ahmedabad in the Jeep that had returned for us. As the driver navigated the winding roads, my breath was often caught in my throat at the dangerous conditions. We eventually followed a fleet of trucks filled with rocks meant for repairing roads; it seemed the road-building was continuous. We also passed a long row of women with shovels on the side of the road; I guessed they were the workforce. As we got closer to the city, the choking dust returned, and I wondered how the driver could see clearly. I was already missing Mount Abu.
As we bounced around inside the Jeep, I imagined breathing the fragrant mountain air, and suddenly I felt a sense of knowing come over me. I understood the Hindi saying Aahan had left me with.
The fact is that Armond exists. He exists not only in this moment, but thousands of years from now, he will still exist.
I didn’t need proof that it was so; I knew it in the depth of my spirit. A sense of pure joy filled my heart, and I smiled broadly in response.
It took six hours to descend the mountain and navigate through traffic, but eventually we made it to Dabok Airport in Udaipur.
During Chow’s meeting with Aarushi the night before they left Mount Abu, he learned that our next GOG assignment was in Barcelona. We had a three-hour flight to New Delhi, at least an hour flight to Paris, and then finally on to Barcelona. Since we had two hours before our first plane departed, we took up two chairs opposite one another at the airport café and ordered drinks.
“I’ve been pondering something since they first told us about their prob
lem,” I said, leaving out details that I didn’t want overheard by the throngs of people around us.
“Yes?” Chow said, his attention on me.
From my messenger bag, I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. I would use images and written words to explain. Chow leaned toward me. I drew a human and then the words:
biometric scans
eye and fingerprints
Then I said to Chow, “First we are human—with our free will—and then we are digitized records.” I went back to my drawing. I wrote more words on the paper:
digitized records are controlled by government
digitized records are expendable
NO MORE FREE WILL
what’s next?
government makes the weak and the poor disappear = genocide?
Chow’s face reacted in shock when he read the final word.
“I think we need a back door in,” I said to him.
Chow pondered this; I could see the wheels churning. “With remote access and control from the outside,” he added, agreeing.
“That way we can watch for signs of it,” I said.
“I’ll figure out how,” he offered.
I nodded in agreement.
“You are the Guardian,” he said firmly, eyes fixed on mine. “When we get to Spain.”
Chapter 37
BARCELONA, SPAIN
The Year 2015
We landed in Barcelona, twenty-five hours after we left India. I felt calm inside, even though my body was physically tired. Chow was impressed that I wasn’t grossly jet lagged as usual. I explained to him that Nectar Hour meditation had shifted something within me.
Within an hour of landing, we were checking into the Hotel Arts Barcelona. GOG had booked us into a two-bedroom apartment that looked out onto spectacular panoramic views of the blue Mediterranean Sea. As I looked out on this clear day, I imagined sailing upon it and then immediately felt sad that the Woohoo that housed so many fond memories of Armond was now lost to me. I left the window and explored the rest of the apartment.
It was flooded with light from the large picture windows that looked to the sea. The décor was minimalist and modern, with warm wood cabinets and color throughout. The scent of fresh flowers permeated the space. It felt good to return to Spain again. It was yet another place that Armond and I had made many fond memories, and I smiled at those remembrances.
As I explored the apartment, I called out to Chow. “I think you should see this.”
He was by my side in a flash. “What is it?” he said with concern.
I looked him intently in the eyes. “Marble,” I said very seriously, then laughed as I left the bathroom that was covered in white marble.
We had a day to relax before our meeting. I picked up the hotel phone and dialed room service. After ordering an assortment of tapas—white asparagus, artichoke, mushroom, crab, white shrimp, and avocado—I also asked for a tray of cheeses. For dessert, I ordered two Crème Brûlées. After hanging up, I dialed the spa and made an appointment for eighty minutes of pleasure: a massage, a full-body exfoliation, and a citrus gel body wrap. My previous spa experience in Spain taught me that the Spaniards knew how to rejuvenate a woman properly. I looked forward to my morning appointment.
As Chow came into the living room, I announced, “I’ve ordered us a meal, and then we can sleep.”
He smiled. He knew how much I loved to eat, even when I was tired. As we waited for our food, I looked through the brochures on the sofa table as Chow watched the sailboats out the windows.
“Oh, hey…Chow,” I called out to him excitedly, even though he stood a mere ten feet away.
He turned to me without saying anything.
I looked at him for a minute. He looks pensive.
“What is it, Ann?” he asked me quietly.
He brought me back to my original thought. “This brochure is for a bicycle tour through Barcelona’s Old Town—through the Gothic Quarter. Wanna go with me?”
“I do not have a bike here.”
I laughed. “Chow, are you all right? Do you have jet lag? The bike is included in the tour. They size one to you.”
He sneered at me. “Is it one of those no-speed bikes, or is it a normal bike?” he asked, coming over to sit next to me to see the brochure.
“They look normal to me,” I answered, handing him the brochure. “Look,” I said pointing, “it says the tour is perfect for art and history lovers. You love art and history,” I said with a smile, trying to cheer him.
“Maybe they just put the normal bikes on the brochure and then give you a no-speed bike from 1950,” he said glumly.
I laughed. “Chow…what’s up with you? You aren’t yourself,” I said, turning directly towards him.
He looked into my eyes for the longest time, without saying a thing.
“Worry. You’re worried,” I deduced from staring at him. “What are you worried about?” I asked compassionately.
“I am not worried.”
“Then what is it?”
He was quiet for about fifteen seconds. “I have an uneasy feeling.”
“How long have you had it?” I asked quietly, sitting very still.
“Since you drew on the paper in India.”
“Hmm,” I said, considering.
“It seems like something is below the surface…a warning, perhaps.”
“Maybe when we have our Nectar Hour tomorrow, it will become clearer during meditation,” I offered.
“Perhaps. Let me just ponder it some more. There is no need for you to worry, Ann. I would give my life to protect you.”
I reached over and hugged him. “I know you would. That’s why I feel so safe these days,” I said quietly as we hugged one another.
As we pulled away, he looked into my eyes, with his hands on both my arms. “There is no need to worry.”
“Okay.”
The apartment’s doorbell rang. I hopped up from the sofa like a jack-in-the-box.
“Mmm, I’m salivating already,” I said excitedly.
Chapter 38
BARCELONA, SPAIN
The Year 2015
For Nectar Hour, we called the front desk and got permission to meditate on the pool deck on the hotel’s roof, facing the eastern rising sun. Watching the sunrise burn the mist off the sea in hints of pale yellow and then the vibrancy of a lemon, I again felt Armond’s presence very near. Since my arrival on Mount Abu, my perception of my husband had shifted. It didn’t feel as though he was watching over me; this was closer—more intimate—participatory.
After our meditation, we returned to the apartment, cleaned up, and I left for my spa appointment, while Chow figured out how to create a backdoor into the Indian government’s databases. I returned to the apartment refreshed and found Chow satisfied that he had found a way in. Later that morning, it was time for our bicycle tour, which was meeting nearby.
Walking over to the marina, we passed the beach, where it looked as though a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition photo shoot was underway. Chow was fully distracted.
We walked a bit farther, where we met our guide, Gabriel Cardona, along with other tourists waiting at the harbor’s gate on this perfect sunny day. Listening and gazing upon our guide was a pure delight, with his tall, lean frame, jet-black wavy hair, and charming bright smile. Chow asked me if I was infatuated. I smiled at him; I was.
After we were fitted for ten-speed bikes, which pleased Chow, Gabriel explained the traffic rules and the route we would ride. We were quickly off, and within ten minutes, I found a comfortable riding pace in the middle of the group, with Chow riding by my side.
We rode into the heart of the medieval city—the Gothic Quarter—with its narrow, winding streets. When we entered the heart of the district, the magnificent multi-storied La Seu Cathedral came into view. Our guide stopped in front of the church and explained its history.
“This area is called the Barri Gotic because this used to be a Roman village. Before you is the Catedral de la
Santa Creu i Santa Eulalia,” Gabriel explained, raising his hand to introduce us to the cathedral. “Construction began in the year 1298, under the direction of King Jaume II. Because of the Black Death and civil wars, the building process was slow, and the main building wasn’t completed until 1460. The gothic exterior was not finished until 1889, and the central spire wasn’t completed until 1913. What you see before you took more than six hundred years to build,” Gabriel expounded to oohs and aahs as he looked over his audience. “The French architect Charles Galters designed both the façade and the spire.”
He gave us time to look at the exterior before he continued.
“If you have a chance while you are in Barcelona, visit the cloister that is just behind you,” he suggested, pointing to the courtyard behind us.
We all turned to look.
“In the fourth century, a fourteen-year-old girl, Santa Eulalia, was tortured to death by the Romans for her religion. In this cloister, there are always thirteen geese in residence. Each goose represents a year of the martyr’s life.”
Everyone on the tour reacted to Gabriel’s poignant explanation.
We rode a full lap around the Gothic church, viewing the several spires from all sides, and then we continued on our tour of the city. I couldn’t get the image of the child-martyr out of my mind.
After leaving the church, we made our way through the streets, heading to the Sagrada Família, designed by the Art Nouveau master, Antoni Gaudí. It would be easy to get lost among the labyrinth of streets without a guide.
As we followed Gabriel down a narrow alley, Chow and I stopped in front of a little alcove about ten feet wide and ten feet deep. We stood atop our bikes in this dank, dark alley, and in the wall of the alcove at eye level was a recessed glass case about two feet by two feet, containing an illuminated Virgin Mary with hands extended in blessing. It was a dramatic dichotomy that touched me deeply.
