by Abhishek Roy
“Please.” He motioned towards the two seats in front of the table he was sitting on.
Ram sat down on one and Vivek sat on the other. While Vivek had been driving the whole time, I had been sitting and hence decided to stand.
“How-I-help-you?” he asked us in the slightly broken and staccato English.
“Do you have something that is.... Norwegian?” asked
Ram.
The man looked confused. He shrugged his shoulders and asked, “Norwegian?”
Ram turned to face us, “What do I ask him? The poem didn’t have a reference to any object other than the Daruma doll.” He pointed towards the shelves stuffed with the small red idols. “There are loads of Daruma dolls here. Which one do we want?“
“Perhaps an old key?” offered Vivek.
“Or maybe, the oldest Daruma doll?” asked Ram. “What is your oldest Daruma doll?” Ram asked the old man.
“Oldest?” he asked back and Ram nodded. The old man got up from his seat and walked slowly into a small and dark room on the north-eastern side of the shop.
The three of us exchanged puzzled looks. After nearly five minutes, the man emerged from the room. A Daruma doll, the size of a basketball was cradled in his arms. He set it down on the table for us to observe. “Oldest!” He pointed towards the doll. “Four hundred and fifty years!“
“Looks very old indeed,” muttered Ram as he scrutinized the doll. The Daruma doll was painted red, as usual. However, the red had faded to a pink. The face was off-white and it had one of its eyes painted. There was a layer of dust covering it through which we could see the few scratches here and there.
Ram picked it up and the man almost screamed, “Careful!”
Ram nodded and cradled it gently. He turned it and inspected every inch. He pressed it here and there and searched for latches or buttons.
“Do you know ritual for Daruma doll?” the old man asked us in broken English.
“No, but we would be interested to know,” Vivek nodded. “The Daruma doll is used in Buddhist temples as a sign for good luck. Is modelled on Bodhidharma, the famous monk during 5th century AD. He founded Zen Buddhism and according to legend, he did meditation for nine years! Bodhidharma is sometimes shown as angry. He was from Central Asia and is also called blue-eyed barbarian.” The old man pointed at the base of the doll.
“Doll is light from above, heavy from below.” He pushed it slightly. The doll rocked but came back up to the same position, similar to a hit-me toy. “This is symbol of success after hardship. We have phrase ‘Nanakorobi Yaoki’. It means Seven times down, Eight times up.” Ram turned back at us and smiled briefly.
“Eyes are blank. They help to achieve goals. Person make wish and colour one eye. After reaching goal, colour other eye. Half eye reminds the person of unachieved goal. After reaching goal, other eye is painted to give vision to Daruma-san.
“Red colour shows colour of Bodhidharma robe. Red colour also is favourite of God of smallpox. During Edo period, many red shrines were made to please God. Infected children wore red clothes and Daruma doll helped patient and consoled the God.” The man nodded.
“Pretty interesting,” said Ram while turning the Daruma doll over and examining every surface. After a few minutes of concentration, Ram sighed. “Can’t find anything interesting on this doll.“
“What should we do?” asked Vivek. “What if we “ he racked his brains, “search for the... “
“Man of Bor-Nu!” I exclaimed.
“Exactly!” cried Vivek after me. “Have you got anything that has any reference to Bor-Nu? Man of Bor - Nu?“
The man thought for a while and suddenly, smiled, “Yes! Yes!”
The old Daruma doll seller entered the dark room again. This time he came out, carrying a six inch long scroll with him. He set aside his tome and placed the scroll in its place. The man then unrolled the old, blemished scroll and instructed us to read the five line poem.
“This is in Japanese. We can’t read Japanese!” I said.
“No worry!” The man assured us. “First line say key to God’s courtyard. Second line... say immortality. Next line say that key is in plain view. Next, say that it is for people who want to see same image. Last line say, Man of Bor-Nu.“
“Well, the first thing that strikes me is The man of Bor-nu, “ Ram said with a cheerful face. “If two poems have this same reference, maybe it’s just a reference and not a pointer. It couldn’t possibly try to pull us back towards Africa after this far.“
“Seems right.” Vivek and I agreed.
“Sir, do you have any idea how old this poem is?” Ram asked him.
“Very, very old.”
“Do you know the actual meaning of the poem?”
“Is a spiritual poem. We no find the key to God’s Courtyard.” The man shrugged.
Ram turned to Vivek and me, “I think he wants to say that the poem is like the story about finding a chest of treasure at the end of a rainbow. Or it’s like a way to reach heaven.”
“Do you mind if we study this for a while...alone. We would be very careful with it for sure.” Ram assured him. The old man seemed to contemplate the scroll for a while.
“Table chair inside.” He pointed towards the dark room. A solitary window allowed a single beam of light to come through. Otherwise, it was completely shielded from outside. “You study inside. I switch light on.“
“Oh, thank you sir! Thank you so much,” said Ram, happy to see his persuasion work out well.
Ram picked up the scroll and walked into the room and we followed. The man scrambled to the switch and turned it on. Instantly, a single bulb lit up over a table surrounded by four chairs. The bulb illuminated the region just around the table and chairs. The rest of the room remained submerged in darkness, though we could make out the jungle of stacks of parchments all over the place.
We walked up to the table which was in the centre of the room. Ram set the old document down and all of us took our seats.
“How do we start?” I asked both of them.
“I had managed to learn some Japanese when I came here long ago. I believe I could try and write down the poem, translated in an orderly fashion,” suggested Vivek.
“Please! If you can, then it would be very nice!” said Ram.
Vivek took out a pen and paper. Then he read the poem several times. He wrote down a few sentences, using the translator occasionally. Finally, he pushed the paper towards us.
The key to God’s Courtyard,
Leads to immortality,
Lies in plain view,
To those who want to see the most familiar image.
The man of Bor-nu
Ram read the poem aloud, “Okay,” he said. “Let’s decipher this. We need to relate what’s written here to Nordic myth.“
“Alright,” Vivek added.
“So...” Ram started reading the poem again. “The first line says, The key to God’s Courtyard. As far as I remember, Valhalla is also known as God’s Coutryard. Anyway, even this poem refers to the key so I suppose we are on track.“
“Good,” I said, satisfied, happy to leave it to Ram’s knowledge.
“The next line says Leads to Immortality. If we think the first line refers to Valhalla, then. “ he paused and thought about it with a frown on his face. “Of course, the gods are immortal but who else is?” His frown gradually disappeared as something hit him. “You see, it is believed in Norwegian myth that the people who have honourably died in war, eventually go to Valhalla. They stay there forever and enjoy a grand feast hosted by Odin! So obviously, they are immortal!”
“Great! Now what does the next line say?” I asked.
“It says, Lies in plain view.” He looked up at us for any extra input.
“Maybe the key is something all of us can see or is publicly displayed somewhere,” Vivek suggested.
“Possible,” Ram agreed. “Still, it doesn’t seem crystal clear.” His brows furled.
“No problem. What do
es the next line say?” Vivek asked.
“To those who want to see the most familiar image.”
“What is the most familiar image?” Ram asked us.
“Maybe it’s a picture of God,” Vivek tried.
“Which God?” Ram inquired.
“Norwegian God obviously.”
“Like Indian mythology, Nordic myth also has loads of gods.”
Vivek fell silent, I decided to try.
“Let me think,” I said and both of them looked at me. “The most familiar image.. .Could be the picture of our parents, our friends, siblings, family...” Then something interesting crossed my mind. “ Or...ourselves! Our image is the most familiar image to us. A MIRROR!” I shouted in triumph. Instinctively I looked back to see the old man staring at me, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry,” I apologised and turned my attention back to Ram and Vivek. “Guys, it’s surely a mirror we are looking for.“
“Hmmm. Seems right. They might have modified the key into a mirror,” Ram said. “But which mirror?“
“Which mirror lies in plain view?” I asked back.
“Well, there are lots of medieval age mirrors in the Tokyo National Museum,” Vivek answered.
“But the man says the scroll is really old,” I countered.
“Many mirrors in the Tokyo national museum belonged to kings and queens and some of them were so intricately decorated that the royal families liked showing them off to even the public,” Vivek explained.
“Correct,” Ram conceded. “It is a known fact that in the olden days, the public were pretty aware of the expensive and valued possessions of their kings and queens. So what Vivek says is true.“
“Then let’s head to the Tokyo National Museum,” I announced.
“But Mathias...” Vivek said, looking at his watch. “It is around twelve thirty. By the time we reach there, it will already be three o’clock. The museum will be thronged with people and we won’t get some privacy.“
“Oh no,” I said, disappointed.
“There is a way out. You see, the nephew of the curator of the Tokyo National Museum is an acquaintance of mine. As I had told you earlier, when I first joined ISRO, obviously I worked in the main headquarters and not the secret base. About a month after I joined, a bright Japanese boy came to the laboratories and worked as an intern. We became pretty good friends and it was later that I learnt that his uncle had such a prestigious job. I can try and arrange a personal meeting with the curator today evening. If it’s something to do with some artefact there, we are bound to do something silly and I don’t want people staring at us. So it will be good to do the meeting after hours. Is that okay?” Vivek proposed.
“Really? You can do that?” Ram asked him, delighted.
“Yes. I can try. Then we will get some time to enjoy the city too.”
“Very nice. Then let’s go.”
“Arigato Kuzaimas, “ Vivek thanked the old man on the way out. “Sir, we have a small request,” Vivek said and the man nodded.
“You two carry on. Go to the car. I will be right back.” Vivek waited with the old man while Ram and I headed back to our car.
After we reached the vehicle, we decided to admire the view from up there. The sky had turned blue. The few clouds in the sky were floating away like cotton balls and looked pure and white in the brilliant light of the sun. At the horizon, the mountains surrounding the city like walls reflected a darker shade of blue and resembled the Blue Mountains near Sydney.
The city was wide awake and running. Cars were rushing everywhere as people enjoyed their week end. It was like any other city. It looked like a human body. The different areas were the different organs, made up by the buildings that were the cells. Snaking through them were the arteries and veins which carried the ever moving river of cars like blood cells.
“Hey, Mathias?” Ram whispered to me.
“Yes, Ram.”
“When we were exiting the shop, I saw something which kept bothering me. Now, I realise, there must be a connection between the Daruma doll and Norwegian myth.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, when we were going out, I saw several Daruma dolls kept on a shelf nearby. They had only one eye painted,” he paused and looked at me expectantly.
“So?” I replied, puzzled.
“So? Mathias, even Odin, the king of the Nordic gods has only one eye! In fact, the old man spoke about Bodhidharma as being called ‘the blue-eyed barbarian’. He said that he had central Asian features. Maybe.. .just maybe, it is not some monk they depict by the Daruma doll but it is simply Odin who had come here long ago and given them the key to the tele porter!”
“Why would an Asurian Odin give a key to a tele porter to the Japanese?”
“It seems like the perfect way of hiding the key, no? No one would guess,” he replied and after giving it some thought, it seemed right.
“Okay, but then why would they dedicate a doll to him?”
“Maybe he helped them with something at that time. I seem to remember a half historical and half mythical Japanese Emperor whose name resembled Odin. But then again the doll is supposed to be names after Bodhidharma. Mathias, you cannot possibly assume that I know all of history,” said Ram.
“Hhmm,” I agreed and we stood in silence once again.
Vivek finally showed up. “Come on guys. The view is truly awesome but we are kind of in a hurry.”
“What took you so long?” I asked him. In reply, Vivek hoisted a rolled packet, “I wanted to take this document along. It might after all come in use but the man was damn obstinate. Yet, here it is.“
“Did you bribe him?” Ram asked him.
“No, no. Just convinced him. To him, the scroll is nothing but a mystery. So what use is it to him? He has numerous more to solve. The absence of one shouldn’t really matter.”
“Good,” I said. “Have you spoken to the curator?“
“I will, right now. I don’t want to drive while speaking on the phone.”
Kapittel 34
Mathias’s story
HIGHWAY BETWEEN TAKASAKI AND TOKYO, JAPAN
March 12, 2017, Sunday, 1310 hours JST
Ram was sitting in the passenger seat of the car as usual while I sat beside Vivek in the stationary car. Vivek was speaking to the curator’s secretary. After hanging up, he said, “The meeting is set for eight thirty today. We will meet at the reception in the museum and he will show us the way around. I feel that this tour is going to be very useful. I have heard a lot about the man from his nephew. His name is Katsuro Hamasaki. We’ll call him Hamasaki-san.” Vivek pulled out of the parking and onto the highway.
“According to his nephew, he is an extremely wise man in his sixties. He is an extrovert and is fluent in English, so communicating won’t be a problem. He does a huge amount of research on the histories and cultures of the world. He knows loads about Persian, Indian, South East Asian, Christian, Chinese, Scandinavian and of course Japanese myths and legends. The man is also an anthropologist and his knowledge of past events is as vast as his knowledge on folklores. If I am not mistaken then he also attained a Ph.D. in history at the age of 27 from the University of Cambridge, was a professor of Humanities in the Tokyo University and is now the curator of the best museum in Japan.”
“Quite a man.” mused Ram. He was looking forward eagerly to meet a man as erudite as this.
“Indeed,” I said. “By the way Vivek, what are you studying to get your Ph.D?“
“I am studying various forms of energy. Not only solar and wind and chemical but also the energy generated by elementary particles. So my research is going good but I still have to defend my thesis statement. “
“Are you serious? You need to explain it to me once we are out of this, ok?”
“Why not? For now, let me concentrate on driving,” he chuckled.
“Hai! Vivek san. “ I said ‘yes! Mr. Vivek’ in Japanese and this made Vivek laugh even more.
We roamed around Tokyo for a f
ew hours. We went to Shinjuku that was bustling with people, gaming parlours and shops with bright electronic signs and murals. After that, we drove off to Akihabara which was a gamer’s delight. After Akihabara’s funky video game shops, we went to Shibuya. It was one of the main shopping districts in Tokyo with brands from all over the world to shop from. There were huge video screens, advertisements and neon signs. After reading about the city and looking at pictures, now it really felt as if we were in Tokyo. Apart from this, the Shibuya crossing was the largest pedestrian crossing in the world. Situated right in the middle of the shopping hub was a junction of six arterial roads. When all of them stopped, thousands of people crossed the road all at once. People poured into the streets from everywhere and yet each person managed to cross the road. The way the helter- skelter yet well-orchestrated movement happened seemed marvellous and we could hardly stop the urge to cross the road quite a few times.
Finally we landed up in Ueno, where the Tokyo National museum was located but we decided to visit the other attractions before we finally headed to the museum at eight o’clock. Ueno was a quiet and modern place with lots of places to walk. Moreover, the Tokyo National museum of Science and Nature, the Ueno Zoo and the universities lent the atmosphere a sense of tranquillity, a kind of environment which was ideal for college students.
Finally at eight fifteen, we reached the Tokyo National Museum. The museum was located in Ueno, nestled in between the numerous art universities and art museums. It directly overlooked the Ueno Park in front.
We parked our vehicle in a parking lot about 150 metres from the museum. The chilly air blowing softly and the quaint and silent atmosphere made for a refreshing walk in the evening. Though it was eight thirty, not many people except a few lingered around in the park.
As we walked to the main gate, the cluster of trees parted to reveal the majestic edifice. There, nearly fifty metres on the other side of the tall iron grate was the primary building of the Tokyo National Museum. The edifice, I could guess, was at least 150 metres wide and it was impossible to guess how big it was from the inside.
