Tara Zenyora : and the Seven-Jeweled Lighthouse

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Tara Zenyora : and the Seven-Jeweled Lighthouse Page 7

by Samantha B. Adra

“Cheer up, Tara. Let’s go pluck some herbs in the woods for cooking.”

  “Okay!” Tara was back to her vivacious self, knowing that she was going to do something fun with Bo.

  CHAPTER 8

  PLANTS AND ANIMALS

  The sun ignited the woods with brilliance, casting hope and happiness within the heart of Tara. She was secretly smitten with Bo’s calm, patient, and gentle personality, exactly the opposite of her flighty, passionate, and headstrong personal traits. Every day was like a dream come true for her because of Bo.

  The forests at the back of Zen Hermitage were lush. Taking a stroll in the woods to look for some wild herbs was an adventurous activity that she was fond of, especially with a magically winsome person like Bo.

  “These are licorice roots,” said Bo, plucking some of the licorice roots and putting them in the basket that Tara was holding. “Licorice roots exhibit potent antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and antimicrobial effects. It can help treat upper respiratory infections, ulcers, and aid digestion. This is good for you.”

  Tara took a whiff of one of the licorice roots. It reminded her of the smell of star anise, which in turn, made her remember a popular Malaysian dish called Loh Bak, a five-spice pork roll. She was slowly regaining her memories.

  “Plants are just like humans; there are three varieties representing the three human capacities: the inferior, the mediocre, and the superior,” said Bo. “Knowing who you truly are - your distinctive strength - is the way to unleash your greatest potential.”

  Suddenly, Tara’s memories flashed back to the time when she picked up Shi Min’s book and read a quote on the acceptance and celebration of diversity. She unconsciously blurted out the quote, “‘Just as cherry, plum, peach and damson blossoms all possess their own unique qualities, each person is unique. We cannot become someone else. The important thing is that we live true to ourselves and cause the great flower of our lives to blossom.’”

  “Seems that you are slowly regaining your memory,” Bo beamed. “There are some goji berries trees over there. Let’s explore.”

  After a short amble, Tara and Bo arrived at the wild goji berry shrubs. Reddish orange berries were scattered along the long stems of the goji plant.

  “Goji berries are beneficial for the eyes, liver, kidneys, and lungs. You need to eat more goji berries to develop your immunity,” said Bo, plucking the oblong, orange-red goji berry and putting them into the basket.

  “Goji berries used to be grown only in the celestial heavens; they were brought down to the human and the dragon worlds to benefit more living beings. Goji berries are the food of longevity. By eating a small ounce of goji berries every day, you will become healthier and live longer. That’s my wish for you.”

  He wishes me health and happiness, how kind of him. Taking a quick glance at him, who was forever abiding in the state of equanimity, her heart was besotted with enamor. The feelings grew stronger day by day.

  As they strolled back to the Zen Hermitage, Tara saw colorful pandas frolicking among the Purple Bamboo Grove. The pandas were so adorable that she wanted to build a playground for them.

  “Bo, shall we build a playground for the pandas? I am sure they will have fun playing in it!”

  “Sure. I need some bamboo as props for the magic to work.” Bo got himself some bamboo shafts, closed his eyes and with a wave of his palms, he conjured a huge playground complete with slides, swings, seesaws, a jungle-gym, and a merry-go-round.

  Impressed with Bo’s magic powers, Tara could not help but go over to give Bo a warm hug as an expression of her gratitude, “Thank you Bo!”

  “Not to mention.” Bo said with a smile but in his heart, he was unruffled by her affections.

  The colorful pandas, ranging from red to purple, were excited about the playground. They climbed up the staircase to the slide and then went tumbling down with a hilarious bounce. Tara giggled watching their adorable antics. Flashes of past memories came back to her. It was the time when she brought her parents to visit the Singapore Zoological Garden to view the two pandas, Jia Jia and Kai Kai.

  “I think I remember my parents,” said Tara. “We were at the zoo watching pandas.”

  “Good progress, keep it up.”

  Tara observed the three baby pandas -― red-white, blue-white, yellow-white -― and noticed that all three of them had different personalities. The red panda acted like a leader and a big brother to its younger siblings; the blue panda was lively and high-spirited; and the yellow panda was quiet and placid.

  “It seems that not only plants, but animals too, have diverse personalities," remarked Tara after observing the pandas. “Diversity is a beauty of life. By respecting and protecting the diversity of Nature, we are expressing true love in action, isn't it?”

  Bo nodded smilingly. “Yes indeed. Love is not just a blind, dogmatic belief; love is the awakening of the true nature of life.”

  Impressed by Bo’s wisdom, Tara felt a sense of superiority to be associated with someone who was so wise, calm, and kind.

  CHAPTER 9

  WATCHING SUNRISE

  One month had passed by since Tara woke up from her coma. She was like a newborn baby starting her life from scratch without being bogged down by her past memories.

  Bamboo was the way of life for Tara and Bo in the Purple Bamboo Grove. Everything they used — tiny hut, bed, cutlery and utensils, tables and chairs, musical and writing instruments, clothing, paper and scrolls, food and beverages — were all made of bamboo found in the Purple Bamboo Grove. This type of bamboo was not an ordinary one; it was an extraordinary medicinal herb with the antiviral and antibacterial property to ward off all types of pests and micro-organisms.

  “Time to wake up,” Bo reminded Tara telepathically. She was having a sweet dream; it was a dream date with Bo in a classical Chinese bamboo tea house, and she certainly did not want to wake up.

  In her dream, Bo played a soulful tune using his end-blown bamboo flute. Tara enjoyed herself listening to his nostalgic melody, sipping tea and breathing in the aromatic tea scent, eating sweet rainbow-colored rice balls, and of course, admiring handsome Bo with his charmingly calm, prudent, and taciturn personality.

  Suddenly, he stopped playing his flute, turned his head and said, “Time to wake up.”

  Startled by the change of events that were so out of place, Tara was almost choked, spitting out the remaining tea in her mouth, and abruptly woke up from her dream. Immediately, she knew it was time for meditation.

  Aargh. She hated meditation. Her mind was like an unruly and unbridled monkey, swinging here and there every moment. It was just impossible for her to sit still, calm her mind, and meditate. Bo’s presence and gravitas, and his elegant poise, and graceful meditative posture were such delightful sights to behold. Smitten with Bo, Tara thought that practicing meditation was just an excuse for her to have an opportunity to be in his presence and learning what he liked so that he could accept her.

  She opened her groggy eyes and glanced around at an empty room. The paper shade bamboo table lamp gave off a warm light glow in the room. As much as she was reluctant to wake up from her warm and cozy futon, she was also excited just thinking about the bliss and joy of starting her day with Bo.

  Having put on the bamboo cloak to keep herself warm from the chilly early morning wind, she stepped out of the Zen hermitage. It was still dark outside as the sun had not risen. A short walk along the small trail through the Purple Bamboo Grove brought her to where Bo was immersed in his morning meditation at a boulder beside the waterfall.

  She sat on her bamboo-woven mat placed in her usual spot under the bamboo grove, and facing the boulder where Bo was sitting.

  Meditation did not come easy for Tara. She was, by nature, a spontaneous, mercurial, and vivacious person. Entering deep meditation was easy initially because she did not have the painful memories to haunt her. It also became increasingly difficult as the sweet memories with Bo started to accumulate.

  Without his mout
h moving, Bo gave the meditation instructions to Tara telepathically, “Sit upright and relax your body. Now, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Pay attention to your breath, and your breath alone. When thoughts arise, be aware of them and let them go as you continue to focus on your breath.”

  Listening to Bo’s gentle, soothing voice was a bliss. But the meditation experience was a torture. Her whole body was itchy as if ants were crawling all over her. She tried her best not to move her arms, but eventually, the itchiness got the best of her and she just had to stretch out her arm to give it a good scratch.

  Much as she breathed in and out, letting the refreshing breeze into her lungs, sweet memories with Bo kept invading her mind, distracting her from focusing on her breaths and entering the meditative zone.

  She saw herself doing all the activities with Bo in her mind: dancing to her heart’s content while listening to Bo play a nostalgic melody with the bamboo flute, picking wild herbs, berries and vegetables in the woods, playing with little pandas in the playground built by Bo, drinking bamboo tea while admiring the full moons, learning horse-riding and archery from Bo, etc.

  Bo knew she was infatuated with him. Her love and longing for him had somehow become an obstacle for her to stay focused and calm during meditation.

  Knowing that Tara’s mind was bombarded with distracting thoughts, Bo determined that a longer meditation might not be beneficial. He decided to shorten the meditation from thirty minutes to ten minutes. “Take a deep breath, three….two….. one…. Ready… open your eyes…”

  This is the longest meditation ever, Tara thought. Seeing Bo still sitting there on the boulder, she stood up and dashed over to his side, grabbed his hand, and said enthusiastically, “Bo, let’s go watch the sunrise!”

  They set forth on their journey towards a scenic location. As she sat in front of Bo on the Zebma― a type of zebra-looking horse with brown stripes in the dragon world―she deliberately held his arm around her and he did not reject it.

  “I am afraid of becoming a Humpty-Dumpty. Your strong arm is my shield and my fortress,” said Tara blissfully. Every little activity with Bo was a romantic rendezvous for her; Zebma-riding and watching the sunrise was no exception.

  The Zebma trotted for a while before reaching the tall cliff that protruded out like a beak of a bird. The cliff overlooked the vast expanse of the ocean.

  Tara and Bo sat on a rectangular rock on the cliff. The sky was still dark and the wind coming from the ocean was forbiddingly cold. In spite of the cloak she was donning, she was shivering as the blustering wind brushed against her face. Bo placed his right arm around her shoulder and brought her closer to him so that she could feel the warmth emitting from his body. Tara’s lips curled into a smile as she snuggled into his chest, waiting for the sunrise.

  “Look! The sun is rising!” Tara excitedly exclaimed as she nudged his hand to grab his attention.

  Soon, a golden orb rose from the horizon over the ocean, spreading her golden-rays and igniting the world with exuberant light and joy. Soon, the world was beaming with the splendor of the scintillating sun. The sun moored its golden hue in the aquamarine blue as if anchored to heaven’s ether.

  A growling sound from her stomach interrupted the silence of the moment. She took a sheepish glance at Bo and he instantly understood what she needed. With a quick wave of his hand, he conjured a small rectangular wooden table with a pot of Iron Kannon tea, two cups, and a plate of rainbow-colored, five-petaled flower-shaped mini steamed buns stuffed with red bean, matcha, salted egg, chocolate, and lotus seed paste.

  “How did you know I was thinking of having tea and dim sum[4] for breakfast?” Tara said as she took a bite of a mini steamed bun.

  “All I need is to set the intention as ‘the breakfast of Tara’s desire,’ and whatever food that is in your mind will appear.”

  Impressed by Bo’s magical power of conjuring the breakfast of her desire, Tara wanted to learn from him. “Could you teach me the art of magic?”

  “First, you need to master your mind through meditation. Distraction is the root of destruction. Mastering your mind through meditation is the key to your ultimate liberation.”

  “Aargh,” Tara groaned with a frown. Meditation was definitely not her cup of tea. She found it increasingly more challenging to sit still for hours as the days went by.

  “Magic is the art of illusion. The steamed buns you eat and the tea you drink are actually made from the bamboo shoots, but they appear to you in a form and taste of your choice.”

  “Is there anything that cannot be done with magic?” Tara thought that perhaps there was something that could not be achieved with magic and it would be an excellent excuse for her to feel much better about not being able to master meditation.

  “Yes, magic is not all invincible.” Bo looked forlorn and he did not elaborate anymore. Tara knew something had happened in Bo’s past and she did not ask more questions.

  She used her index finger and thumb to pick up the yellow mini steamed bun stuffed with lotus seed paste and placed it into her mouth. It was heavenly. As she continued to be mindfully aware of the taste of the bun, her mind suddenly drifted to a specific memory from her childhood.

  She remembered the family reunion with her grandparents in Penang. They had dim sum as breakfast on a round table.

  “Try some Iron Kannon tea,” her grandfather invited her to take a sip of the aromatic tea. When Tara took a sip of the tea, she instantly fell in love with it.

  Laughter ensued when her Irish father began to have fun learning how to use chopsticks from her grandfather. It was a warm, loving moment of family fun during the Chinese New Year.

  My childhood memories…I remember them…Tara thought with felicity.

  “This clay teapot is so artistically exquisite! It makes me even more excited about drinking it,” commented Tara as she admired the brown clay teapot with a dragon head spout and a dragon tail handle. The delicate tea aroma wafting in the air captivated her mind.

  “Drinking tea is mindfulness in action. It helps to keep your mind relaxed, alert, and focused, good for you to remember your past,” said Bo as he took a sip of the Iron Kannon tea.

  “Really? That’s interesting. Let me try,” Tara said as she took a sip of the Iron Kannon tea. The moment she savored the tea, memory of her mother preparing the aromatic Chinese tea with an array of sizzling hot dim sum came back to her.

  Bo noticed her glazed expression when she was deep in her reminiscence. “Thinking about your family?”

  “Yeah, I remember my childhood memories. My parents and grandparents were enjoying themselves in a New Year reunion. This breakfast of tea and dim sum somehow helped me reawaken that part of my beautiful childhood memory...” said Tara, as she cast her nostalgic and longing gaze at the far horizon of the ocean.

  “Congratulations,” said Bo in his regular baritone voice. His words seldom matched his intonation, which was usually flat, though he always meant what he said.

  Taking a coy glance at Bo, Tara was intoxicated by his lovely face that exuded a golden aura, his alluring deep blue eyes, and his natural sandalwood body scent.

  “Bo, do you have any aspirations in life?” asked Tara, hoping to understand more about him.

  He was silent for a while before replying, “Yes. I hope to preserve my body so that I could witness the momentous moment of Maitreya’s attainment of Buddhahood in the future.”

  “But that is an exceptionally long time! How do you preserve your body?”

  “I can preserve my body as long as I wish through the power of samadhi meditation. Mahakashyapa, one of Shakyamuni’s disciples, is currently preserving his body under the Yunnan Mountain in China. He is waiting for the day to transfer Shakyamuni’s robe and bowl to Maitreya Buddha personally.”

  Tara experienced a pang of disappointment in her heart; she secretly wished that Bo could have an aspiration that was more earthly in nature, like setting up a family with a lady of his dreams.

>   “Your aspiration is noble. I wish you all the best. May you be able to fulfill your dream,” said Tara, her voice was laced with a tinge of sadness.

  Knowing what was in Tara’s mind, Bo looked into Tara’s disappointed eyes and said in a dispassionate voice, “Thank you, Tara. You are my beloved sister. As your brother, I will always protect you wherever you are.” Those words pierced through her heart like a cold, sharp icicle.

  He is treating me as his beloved sister, Tara thought. While she adored his equanimous disposition and gentle personality, her secret wish to become his wife one day was shattered.

  “Bo, the sun is so splendid! How I wish I can touch the sun now,” said Tara, trying to distract herself from thinking about this heartbreaking realization.

  “Let me take you to touch the sun now,” said Bo, holding her hands. Suddenly, both of them magically disappeared into the outer space where Tara got to touch and stroke the mighty sun with the tip of her finger. “Would you like to touch the moon too?”

  “Yes!” Tara touched the moon with her fingertip as well.

  “Wow, this is unbelievable!” exclaimed Tara. “How do you do it?”

  “Once you have mastered your samadhi meditation, these psychic powers are nothing more than leisure sports,” said Bo with a smile.

  Bo is just so cool, so magical. Oh, how I wish I could be with him forever. Tara found his power and his personality irresistible. Bo was a special human. He did not need to sleep, eat, or drink like an ordinary person. All he needed was to meditate under a tree and he would have the power and energy to sustain his life.

  CHAPTER 10

  MANGO DISASTER

  It was a breezy day and the birds were happily singing and crickets were chirping delightfully. Yet, dark clouds were slowly gathering in the sky and rain was imminent. But nothing was going to dampen Tara’s spirits.

  “The Mango Grove is in season. Shall we go pluck some mangoes later?” asked Tara enthusiastically, fantasizing about a romantic mango rendezvous with Bo. He nodded without saying anything.

 

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