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Ketika aku hidup dan besar di Bhutan Timur, selalu ada lingga terpajang di mana-mana. Bahkan di rumah kami, Anda akan menemukan lingga terukir pada gagang pintu, menghiasi pegangan sendok sup, dan pada pegangan tangga. Lingga dilukis di dinding, dalam maupun luar, dalam berbagai ukuran dan bentuk. Begitu banyak sehingga tidak ada yang menyadarinya. Anak laki-laki dan perempuan, kakak dan adik, biksu dan biksuni, akan berbincang santai tepat di depan simbol dan lukisan lingga ini.<\/p>\n
Orang Bhutan juga suka membuat lingga dan vagina dari adonan; ini mungkin satu-satunya seni yang aku kuasai. Aku akui aku sudah membuat banyak sekali organ seks dari permen karet dan menempelkannya di bawah meja di banyak restoran di seluruh dunia. Bukan hanya simbol, ukiran, dan lukisan. Seluruh sikap seputar seks jauh lebih terbuka di tempatku dibesarkan. Godaan tak senonoh tidak dianggap tabu seperti di tempat lain. Seorang wanita yang mengundang seorang pria untuk menghabiskan waktu di tempat tidur bersama adalah hal biasa seperti undangan minum teh. Baru kemudian aku menyadari bahwa masyarakat yang \u201cberadab\u201d mungkin melihat ini sebagai perilaku barbar, primitif, dan terbelakang.<\/p>\n
Pada akhirnya aku sendiri mulai berpikir dengan cara terbatas ini. Setelah aku dilabel sebagai seorang tulku, adalah hal biasa jika para wanita untuk datang padaku dan membuka baju untuk memperlihatkan dada telanjang mereka sehingga aku dapat meniupnya, karena mereka percaya hal itu akan meringankan penderitaan mereka. Bertahun-tahun kemudian, ketika aku kembali ke Bhutan Timur dan para wanita ini datang dengan kemeja terbuka, aku mendapati diriku tak mampu menatap mereka. Namun setelah beberapa hari, pengaruh masa kanak-kanakku kembali dan aku merasa rileks, pikiran menghakimi yang menganggap tindakan ini primitif berhenti.<\/p>\n
Suka tidak suka, hilangnya kepolosan, jika ini ada, sungguh tak terelakkan. Kepolosan mulai kehilangan kemurniannya di tengah keruhnya pendidikan dan pendewasaan, yang berujung pada kemunafikan. Ini pengalamanku dalam kehidupan pribadiku.<\/p>\n
Segalanya berubah 180 derajat ketika aku memasuki dunia orang Tibet yang \u201clebih canggih\u201d, \u201clayak\u201d, \u201cberbudaya\u201d, tinggal di labrang dan dikelilingi oleh para biksu, rinpoche, khenpo, tulku, dan sebagainya. Seperti kebanyakan Rinpoche muda, aku dibesarkan di lingkungan orang-orang yang hampir semua hidup selibat. Hampir tiada hari berlalu tanpa tutor-tutorku, yang sebagian besar adalah biksu, yang menggambarkan para wanita sebagai penggoda, penghalang sang jalan. Mereka bilang: Kalau menurutmu wanita itu menarik dan cantik, itu hanya karena mereka sudah mandi dan berdandan. Jika mereka berhenti memotong kuku selama seminggu, mereka semua akan terlihat seperti penyihir. Kalau mereka tidak gosok gigi, mulut mereka bau seperti lubang-lubang lainnya, jika tidak keramas, tumbuhlah rambut gimbal. Bertahun-tahun kemudian, aku belajar bahwa sikap chauvinistik laki-laki ini tidak berakar pada Dharma, ini adalah fenomena budaya duniawi, khususnya Asia, yang telah dilapisi ajaran Vinaya.<\/p>\n
Di depan umum, tutor-tutorku seperti istri pencemburu, selalu memeriksa arah pandanganku. Mereka pasti tidak pernah berpikir untuk meninggalkanku sendirian dengan seorang gadis, terutama jika gadis itu berasal dari Bhutan atau wilayah barat, karena, menurut orang Tibet, gadis-gadis dari Bhutan atau wilayah barat bergaul bebas dan berbahaya. Ada begitu banyak kaum hippie di Nepal pada saat itu dan “orang barat” mulai berarti “hippie” yang mulai berarti “pengguna narkoba” dan mungkin juga berarti tidak stabil secara mental. Gadis-gadis Barat tidak membungkuk, menyembunyikan payudaranya dan menutupi bokongnya seperti gadis Tibet yang menyembunyikan segalanya. Tutor-tutorku tidak tahu apa yang harus dilakukan dengan penampilan ini. Jika mereka melihat wanita barat mengenakan jeans yang bahkan tidak terlalu ketat, mereka akan mengeluarkan suara tsk tsk tanda tidak setuju dan mengawasiku dengan kewaspadaan ekstra.<\/p>\n
Mereka tidak menyadari bahwa pengawasan 24 jam yang mereka lakukan tidak menghentikan rasa penasaranku, justru sebaliknya. Tapi aku pintar berpura-pura, sehingga mereka berpikir aku tidak tertarik, sama seperti ketika aku berpura-pura tidak suka film. Untungnya, tutor-tutorku mempercayai Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. Saat aku berada dalam asuhannya, mereka berhenti mengawasiku, meyakini bahwa aku berada di tangan yang tepat. Mereka tidak tahu, begitu mereka pergi, Rinpoche mulai bertanya apakah ada gadis cantik yang menarik perhatianku. Baru belakangan ini aku menyadari keterbukaan dan kepercayaan Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche adalah salah satu cara paling terampil untuk melatih makhluk liar sepertiku. Tanpa itu, aku mungkin sudah menguasai seni berpura-pura. Berpura-pura hening, murni, perawan, polos, suci, sementara di dalam terbakar oleh nafsu, dan menggila karena terus beralih antara berpura-pura suci dan menghadapi perang batin untuk menekan ledakan hormonku.<\/p>\n
Ya, disiplin palsu ada manfaatnya. Setelah beberapa saat, jika Anda pandai berpura-pura suci, Anda menjadi lebih dewasa dan sikap acuh tak acuh pun muncul, dan itu bagus; objek seksual menjadi bagian alami dari lingkungan. Aku pribadi mengenal beberapa rinpoche yang diawasi ketat ketika kami dibesarkan bersama, selalu di bawah pengawasan penuh tutor mereka. Para tulku ini, sama sepertiku, belajar bersikap murni meskipun terkadang mereka bercerita padaku tentang fantasi dan keinginan mereka. Tahun-tahun berlalu dan sekarang mereka telah menjadi praktisi yang disiplin, sehingga mereka tidak perlu lagi berpura-pura. Jadi Anda tidak bisa begitu saja mengabaikan seluruh proses pengawasan dan kepura-puraan. Sementara itu, tidak berpura-pura\u2014hanya berterus terang dan terbuka tentang preferensi dan keinginan Anda sepanjang waktu\u2014dapat memanjakan seseorang. Kurangnya tanggung jawab dan perilaku seperti ini dapat menyebabkan orang lain kehilangan inspirasi.<\/p>\n
Di sisi lain, sikap berpura-pura yang berlebihan dapat menyebabkan seseorang kehilangan kontak dengan kualitas dasar manusia yang sebenarnya. Hal ini menciptakan rasa tidak aman, dan Anda berakhir dengan pikiran bahwa orang lain juga tidak tulus. Jika Anda berpura-pura, Anda mengira orang lain mungkin juga berpura-pura. Anda menjadi angkuh dan sibuk tampil baik, semua hanya menjadi sebuah pertunjukkan, bahkan untuk diri sendiri. Menurutku, guru yang tidak terampil dalam membimbing siswanya secara moral dan etika, yang menuntut kemurnian, pada akhirnya menciptakan setan-setan kemunafikan.<\/p>\n
![\"Kyabje](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/Dilgo-Khyenste-Rinpoche-and-Lama-Ugyen-Shenpen-300x194.jpg\")
Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche bersama Ugyen Shenpen.<\/p><\/div>\n
Ketika aku berusia sekitar tujuh tahun, aku pergi ke Biara Rumtek yang megah di Sikkim, tempat kedudukan Karmapa ke-16, untuk menerima ajaran lengkap Shangpa Kagyu dan inisiasi dari Kalu Rinpoche. Aku ditemani oleh tutorku Ugyen Shenpen dan Sonam Tashi. Hampir semua tulku Karma Kagyu yang terkenal ada di sana, termasuk Shamar Rinpoche, Situ Rinpoche, dan Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche.<\/p>\n
Selama sesi ceramah dan inisiasi dari Kalu Rinpoche itu, ada dua hal yang sangat berkesan bagiku. Jarang-jarang, Karmapa muncul di balkon dan memandang kami melalui kaca. Beliau selalu begitu luar biasa dan agung, tapi juga sangat mengintimidasi. Sungguh menyenangkan bisa melihat Beliau tetapi juga sangat menakutkan. Jika aku mendeteksi gerakan terkecil sekalipun di balkon, aku akan mengawasi titik itu dengan harapan Karmapa muncul.<\/p>\n
Hal lain yang sangat berkesan datang dari seorang wanita yang mungkin lebih tua dari ibuku. Ia adalah cinta pertamaku. Terlahir sebagai manusia di bawah kendali kebiasaan dari berbagai kehidupan yang tak terhitung jumlahnya, terjebak dalam delapan belas dhatu<\/em> dan dua belas ayatana<\/em>, ketertarikanku tak dapat dibendung. Objek yang membuatku jatuh hati adalah ibu dari salah satu Rinpoche muda yang paling baik hati, jadi ini adalah situasi yang sulit. Saat itu, ia menghadiri ceramah bersama suaminya. Jika aku harus memberi urutan untuk emosi\u2014ketidaktahuan, nafsu keinginan, kemarahan, kesombongan\u2014aku akan mengurutkan kecemburuan dan kesombongan pada urutan terbawah. Cemburu itu tak ada gunanya, bahkan lebih buruk dari itu. Bayangkan, seorang anak laki-laki berusia tujuh tahun, cemburu pada suami seorang wanita yang lebih tua dari ibunya. Aku bahkan belum pernah bicara pada wanita itu. Aku yakin aku pasti memandanginya dengan emosi sangat jelas dan terbuka, tapi karena aku masih anak-anak, dalam benaknya aku hanyalah seorang anak kecil bermata besar.<\/p>\n Aku begitu tergila-gila padanya sehingga pada malam hari aku tidak bisa tidur. Selama berjam-jam, ketika semua orang tertidur, aku terbaring di sana sambil membayangkan semua hal yang bisa kulakukan dengannya\u2014tak ada yang bersifat seksual\u2014tapi pernikahan, berjalan di pegunungan bersalju, naik bus bertingkat dan menyematkan kuntum mawar di telinganya, semua ini adalah referensi yang kudapat dari foto-foto film Bollywood. Jika aku mendengar lagu Bollywood, aku langsung membayangkan kamilah yang bernyanyi. Bertahun-tahun kemudian ketika aku pergi ke London, Nedup Dorjee mengajakku berkeliling dengan bus bertingkat di London dan mengenang kembali masa-masa di Rumtek itu membuatku sungguh malu.<\/p>\n Foto SHARUKH KHAN dan PREITY ZINTA. Untuk film Bollywood VEER-ZAARA<\/p><\/div>\n Namun ketika aku berusia 16 tahun, ceritanya berbeda. Sekali lagi perjumpaanku dengan seorang wanita tidak terjadi di kantin sekolah menengah atas atau di bar kumuh, melainkan di sebuah perkumpulan Dharma. Kali ini fokus perhatianku adalah seorang wanita Perancis berambut merah berusia empat puluhan. Ia datang dari Paris untuk menerima ajaran dari Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche di Nepal, dan setiap hari ia akan mengenakan sesuatu yang berbeda. Terkadang ia memakai rok selutut. Ia tidak terbiasa duduk bersila jadi ia selalu memindahkan kaki dari bersilang dan tidak dan jika aku melirik pada saat yang tepat aku bisa melihat kaki dan stokingnya. Ia punya banyak jenis stoking, ada yang jaring dan ada yang halus seperti sutra. Ketertarikanku padanya lebih terletak pada gaya wanita ini. Bisa dibilang itulah perkenalanku dengan fashion Perancis. Aku tidak sadar kalau itu pernak pernik Perancis\u2014lipstik, eye shadow, dan syal. Aksen Perancisnya juga terdengar indah di telingaku. Anda selalu tahu ia sudah datang dari parfumnya yang khas. Aku tidak sadar aroma itu menggoda karena aku tidak tahu apa itu godaan.<\/p>\n Aku ingat semua ini tapi aku tidak ingat namanya, ia mungkin sudah meninggal sekarang. Pada hari-hari dimana ia tidak hadir, aku mendapati diriku mencarinya tapi aku harus berhati-hati. Bukan hanya para asisten yang mengawasiku, ada banyak Rinpoche muda lainnya yang selalu mengamati. Tapi untungnya, karena posisiku di ruangan dekat sebuah jendela, aku bisa melihat bayangannya tanpa melihat langsung ke arahnya. Meski demikian ia pasti tahu bahwa aku memperhatikannya.<\/p>\n Aku menceritakan rahasia ini hanya pada satu teman, yang namanya tidak dapat kusebutkan, dan ia sangat terkejut karena menurutku bintik-bintik di wajah wanita ini cantik. Ia tidak mengerti apa yang kusukai dari penyakit kulit ini. Aku hanya bisa menceritakan rahasia ini pada teman yang satu ini karena ia sangat pengertian, kalau tidak, mengaku pada orang-orang di sekitarku bahwa aku tertarik pada perempuan, terlebih pada seorang perempuan berambut merah dan berwajah bintik-bintik, sama saja dengan mengaku ingin ikut pasukan bom bunuh diri. Kerahasiaan ini perlu dijaga. Untunglah orang Tibet sama sekali tidak menganggap ia cantik, sehingga aku bisa dengan mudah berpura-pura tidak tertarik. Aku harus benar-benar menyembunyikan emosiku dan untungnya saat itu aku sudah ahli dalam hal ini. Tantangannya adalah untuk tampil sebagai rinpoche yang penuh disiplin sambil merancang interaksi apa saja yang memungkinkan dengan wanita berambut merah dengan pakaian beraneka warna ini.<\/p>\n Itu adalah hubungan romantis yang paling menarik karena tidak ada kesamaan bahasa di antara kami. Aku hanya bisa sedikit bahasa Inggris, demikian pula dia. Aku bisa memberitahu para pengiringku bahwa aku bersama Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche sementara aku mencoba untuk bercakap-cakap dengannya, tapi ini butuh banyak tipu muslihat dan kebohongan. Beberapa kali kami berkomunikasi\u2014ia menggunakan bahasa Inggris yang terbatas dan aku menggunakan pantomim dan isyarat tangan\u2014aku harus menghentikan percakapan dan kabur tanpa penjelasan. Aku benar-benar harus bertindak cepat. Ia pasti sangat bingung. Sama sekali tidak menyadari situasiku, ia mengundangku ke rumahnya untuk minum teh atau berjalan-jalan, yang menurutku seperti mengajakku berkencan. Namun menerima undangan seperti itu sama sekali tak mungkin. Aku tidak bisa meminta ijin bahkan untuk satu jam. Bagiku, bercakap-cakap selama 10 menit pun hampir mustahil. Ia bahkan mengajakku pergi trekking bersamanya. Ia tidak mengerti bahwa satu-satunya tempat yang boleh aku datangi sendirian adalah toilet, jika tidak, selalu ada asisten, biksu, atau lhama yang mengikuti setiap gerakanku. Padahal aku bukan seorang lhama berpangkat tinggi. Bayangkan yang dialami oleh para lhama berpangkat tinggi. Namun kurasa, perlahan kami mulai memahami maksud dan situasi satu sama lain. Karena ia sudah dewasa, ia tahu cara mengenali orang yang kasmaran dan karena ia berpikiran terbuka, ia tidak berusaha menghalangiku.<\/p>\n Jadi suatu malam, kami diundang untuk makan malam formal oleh duta besar Perancis atau organisasi Perancis. Undangan saat itu bukan di kedutaan, tapi di sebuah restoran atau mungkin semacam klub pribadi. Ada banyak orang di sana, termasuk si rambut merah ini. Bukannya datang ke acara makan malam, para tulku yang lain malah pergi ke bioskop jadi aku harus pergi sendiri. Acara bergaya prasmanan ini merupakan pengalaman yang benar-benar baru bagiku. Sebagian besar dari kami dilayani di luar oleh anak-anak Nepal yang memegang nampan berisi makanan pembuka. Orang-orang berkeliaran keluar masuk. Wanita itu datang mendekat, ia pasti sedikit mabuk kala itu tapi aku bahkan tidak tahu apa tanda-tanda alkohol saat itu. Tak ada gadis Tibet atau Bhutan yang berani mendekatiku sambil minum. Tapi sekarang kalau dipikir-pikir lagi, ia pasti mabuk.<\/p>\n Kami duduk berdua di bangku dekat pagar tanaman yang tinggi. Semua orang sibuk bersosialisasi, mengambil minuman dan makanan di meja prasmanan, di sisi lain taman yang remang-remang, tapi kami tetap duduk. Ketiadaan cahaya dan bahasa agaknya telah membantu kami berkomunikasi karena ia harus bergerak lebih dekat dan dekat padaku. Ia menatapku lebih lama dari aku memandangnya, karena begitu dia menatapku, aku memalingkan muka.<\/p>\n Tiba-tiba ia meraih tanganku dan meletakkannya di balik bajunya. Aku terkejut dengan sikap tak terduga ini, dan aku tidak tahu apa yang harus kulakukan untuk menyembunyikan kegugupanku. Naluriku mengatakan untuk menarik tangan dan mengendus baunya. Ia sepertinya suka, jadi ia meraih tanganku dan menaruhnya kembali di balik bajunya dan memintaku melakukannya lagi. Malam itu ketika aku pulang aku masih bisa merasakan krim wajahnya di kulitku. Pada ceramah keesokan harinya, rasa itu masih ada meskipun aku telah mencuci muka bersih-bersih.\u00a0 Aku merasa sangat tidak nyaman dan khawatir jika orang-orang akhirnya tahu. Aku masih bisa mencium aroma parfumnya yang menempel sampai begitu lama.<\/p>\n Seperti yang ditulis Arundati Roy: “Pada tahun-tahun awal amorfik (sebelum ada bentuk) ketika kenangan baru saja dimulai, ketika kehidupan penuh dengan awal baru dan tanpa akhir, dan segala hal adalah untuk selamanya…” fenomena ketertarikan dan kebutuhan akan keberadaan orang lain, dimulai.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_post_nav _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_post_nav][et_pb_comments _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_comments][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ketika aku hidup dan besar di Bhutan Timur, selalu ada lingga terpajang di mana-mana. Bahkan di rumah kami, Anda akan menemukan lingga terukir pada gagang pintu, menghiasi pegangan sendok sup, dan pada pegangan tangga. Lingga dilukis di dinding, dalam maupun luar, dalam berbagai ukuran dan bentuk. Begitu banyak sehingga tidak ada yang menyadarinya. Anak laki-laki […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3348,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" Crush<\/p> When I was growing up in East Bhutan, there were phalluses on display everywhere. Even in our home, you'd find phalluses carved into doorknobs, adorning soup ladles, and on banisters. They were painted on the walls, inside and outside, in different sizes and shapes. There were so many that no one even took notice. Boys and girls, brothers and sisters, monks and nuns, would have casual conversations right in front of these phallic symbols and paintings.![\"Photo](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/cbd64f92.jpg\")
![\"lady\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/lady.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"freckles\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/freckles.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"garden-bench-surrounded-by-catmint-beautiful-high-impact-and-virtually-no-maintenance\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/garden-bench-surrounded-by-catmint-beautiful-high-impact-and-virtually-no-maintenance.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
Bhutanese also liked to make phalluses and vaginas out of dough; this may be the one art that I have mastered. I admit I have made countless sex organs out of chewing gum and pasted them under the tables of countless restaurants around the world. It wasn't just symbols and carvings and paintings. The whole attitude around sex was much more open in this place where I grew up. Outrageous flirting was not considered unwholesome like in other societies. A woman inviting a man to spend time in bed together was as ordinary as inviting for tea. Only later did I realize that \"civilized\" society might find this behaviour barbaric, primitive, and backwards.
Eventually I myself started to think in this limited this way. After I was labeled as a tulku, it was common for ladies to come to me and open their shirts to expose their bare chests so I could blow on them, because they believe it would ease their pain. Years later, when I returned to East Bhutan and these ladies came with their open shirts, I found myself not being able to look at them. But after a few days, my old childhood chemistry set in and I once again was at ease, the judgmental mind that considered these actions primitive was quieted.
For better or worse, loss of innocence, if there is such a thing, is inevitable. Innocence loses its purity amidst the murkiness of education and grooming, which leads to hypocrisy. That has been my experience in my personal life.
Things changed for me 180 degrees when I entered the \"more sophisticated,\" \"decent,\" \"cultured\" realm of the Tibetans, living in labrangs surrounded by monks, rinpoches, khenpos, tulkus, and so on. Like many young Rinpoches, I was raised in the company of mostly celibates. Hardly a day went by without my tutors, who were mostly ordained monks, depicting women as temptresses, obstacles on the path. They would say: If you think girls are appealing and beautiful, it's just because they've washed and groomed themselves. If they stop clipping their nails for a week, they will all look like witches. If they don't brushed their teeth, their mouths will smell like other orifices, if they don't wash their hair, they will grow dreadlocks. Years later, I learned that this male chauvinistic attitude is not rooted in the Dharma, it is a worldly, cultural phenomenon, especially Asian culture, that has been lacquered with the teachings on the Vinaya.
In public, my tutors were like jealous wives, always checking the direction of my gaze. They would never dream of leaving me alone with a girl, especially if she was from Bhutan or the west, because, in the Tibetans' opinion, girls from Bhutan or the west were promiscuous and dangerous. There were so many hippies in Nepal at that time and \"westerner\" began to mean \"hippie\" which began to mean \"drug taker\" and possibly also mentally unstable. Western girls didn't hunch over, hiding their breasts and covering their behinds like the Tibetans who hid everything. My tutors didn't know what to do with this display. If they saw a western woman wearing jeans that weren't even that tight, they would make disapproving tsk tsk sounds and watch me with extra vigilance.
They didn't seem to have a clue that their 24-hour surveillance wasn't stopping my curiosity, in fact, it had the opposite effect. But I was such a good pretender, leading them to think I was uninterested, just like when I pretended I didn't like movies.
Fortunately, my tutors trusted Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. The moment I was in his care, they would stop guarding me, resting assured I was in good hands. Little did they know, as soon as they left, Rinpoche would start asking me if any beautiful girls had caught my eye. Only recently did I realize Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche's openness and trust was one of the greatest skillful means to train wild beings like me. Otherwise I might have mastered the art of pretense. Pretending to be serene, pure, virginal, innocent, chaste, while inside burning with desire, going crazy alternating between the act of purity and the inner battle to suppress my hormonal eruptions.
I should say fake discipline has some value. After a while, if you are good at pretending to be pure, you become more mature and an indifferent attitude sets in, which is good; sexual objects become part of the natural environment. I personally know a few rinpoches who were under a lot of scrutiny when we were growing up together, always under the ever watchful eye of their tutors. These tulkus, just like myself, learned to act pure even though they sometimes confided to me about their fantasies and desires. Years have passed and now they have become disciplined practitioners, so they no longer need to pretend. So you can't just write off the whole process of surveillance and fakery.
Meanwhile, not pretending\u2014just being direct and open about your preferences and desires all the time\u2014can spoil a person. There is a lack of responsibility and this kind of behavior can cause others to lose inspiration.
On the other hand, out of control faking can lead one to lose touch with the fundamental genuine quality of being human. It can create insecurity, and you end up thinking others are also not genuine. If you are faking, you think others are probably faking. You become proud and pretentious, everything is a show, even to yourself. I think teachers who are not skillful in guiding a student morally and ethically, who insist on purity, end up creating demons of hypocrisy.
When I was about seven, I went to the grand Rumtek Monastery in Sikkim, the seat of the 16th Karmapa, to receive the complete Shangpa Kagyu teachings and initiations from Kalu Rinpoche. I was accompanied by my tutor Ugyen Shenpen (PHOTO WITH WIFE) and Sonam Tashi. Almost all the known Karma Kagyu tulkus were there, including Shamar Rinpoche, Situ Rinpoche, and Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche.
During that particular teaching and initiation from Kalu Rinpoche, two things left a big impression on me. On rare occasions, the Karmapa would come to the balcony and look down at us through the glass. He was always so magnificent and majestic and at the same time very intimidating. It was such a joy to see him but also so scary. If I detected even the smallest movement I would watch that spot with the hope that it would be him.
The other big impression was from a woman who was probably older than my mother. She was my first crush. Being a human who was under the control of countless lifetimes of habit, stuck with eighteen dhatus and twelve ayutanas, my infatuation was insurmountable. The object of my crush happened to be the mother of one of the kindest young Rinpoches, so it was a delicate situation.
She was attending the teachings with her husband. If I have to rank the emotions\u2014ignorance, desire, anger, pride\u2014I would rank jealousy and pride as the lowest. To say that jealousy has no point, is putting it mildly. But imagine, a boy of seven, jealous of a husband of a woman who is older than his mother. I had never even spoken to her. I am sure I must have looked at her with unveiled emotion, but because I was such a young boy, in her mind I was just a kid with big eyes. I was so infatuated with her that at night I couldn't sleep. For hours, while everyone slept, I laid there imagining all the things that I could do with her\u2014nothing sexual\u2014but marriage, walking in the snow mountains, riding double-decker buses and putting a rosebud in her ear, all these scenes I'd referenced from still photos of Bollywood films. If I heard a Bollywood song, I would imagine we were the ones singing. Years later when I went to London, Nedup Dorjee took me on a double-decker tour of London and thinking back on those Rumtek days made me so embarrassed.
But when I was 16 years old, it was a different story. Yet again my encounter with a lady wasn't in a high school cafeteria or a sleazy bar, but in a Dharma gathering. This time the focus of my attention was a red-headed French woman in her forties. She had come from Paris to receive teachings from Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche in Nepal, and every day she would wear something different. Sometimes she would wear knee length skirts. She wasn't used to sitting cross legged so she was always crossing and uncrossing her legs and if I glanced at the right moment I could see her legs and stockings. She had so many different kinds, fishnets and silky hose. My infatuation with her was mostly about her style. You could say it was my introduction to French fashion. I didn't realize it was a French thing\u2014the lipstick and eye shadow and scarves. Also her French accent sounded good to my ears. You could always tell she had arrived by her distinctive perfume. I didn't realize it was seductive because I didn't know what seduction was.
I remember all this but I don't remember her name, she might even be dead by now. On the days she didn't come to the teaching, I found myself looking for her but I had to be careful. Not only did I have my own attendants watching me, there were many other young Rinpoches who were ever watchful. But luckily, because of my position in the room near a window, I could see her reflection without looking directly at her. Nevertheless she must have noticed that I was paying attention to her.
I only confided in one friend, whose name I cannot mention, and he was so surprised that I found her freckles beautiful. He just couldn't understand what I liked about this skin disease. I could only confide in this one friend because he was very understanding, otherwise, confessing to people around me that I was interested girls, especially a girl with red hair and a freckled face, would be like confessing that I wanted to join a suicide bomb squad. It had to be kept absolutely confidential. It was good that the Tibetans didn't think she was beautiful at all because I could easily feign disinterest. I had to really conceal my emotions and luckily by then I had become a master at this. The challenge was to look like a good disciplined rinpoche while arranging interactions of any kind with this redheaded, multicolor dressed woman.
It was a most interesting courtship because there was no shared language between us. I hardly spoke English and she also spoke very little. I could tell my retinue that I was with Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche while I was trying to have a conversation with her but it required a lot of tricks and lies. The few times we communicated\u2014her using her limited English and me using mime and hand gestures\u2014I had to cut short and run off with no explanation. I really had to act quickly. She must have been so puzzled. Completely unaware of my situation, she would invite me to her house for tea or to go on walks, which I guess was kind of like asking me on a date. But accepting such an invitation was just not possible at all. I couldn't take leave for even an hour. For me, even to have a conversation for 10 minutes was almost impossible. She even invited me to go trekking with her. She didn't understand that the only place I was allowed to go alone was a toilet, otherwise there were either attendants, monks, or lamas following my every movement. And I wasn't even a high ranking lama. Imagine what the high ranked lamas were going through.
But I think we slowly began to understand each other's intentions and situations. Because she was an adult, she knew how to recognize a crush and because she was open minded, she didn't try to dissuade me.
So one night, many of us were invited for a formal dinner by the French ambassador or some French organization. It wasn't at the embassy, it was a restaurant or maybe some kind of private club. There were many people there, including this redhead. Instead of coming to the dinner, the other tulkus all went out to a movie so I had to go alone. This buffet style event was a totally new experience for me. Most of us were served outside by Nepali boys holding trays of hors d'oeuvres. People were roaming around in and out. The woman approached me, she must have been a little bit drunk but I didn't even know what the signs of alcohol were back then. No Tibetan or Bhutanese girl would ever have dared to approach me while drinking. But now that I think back, she must have been.
We sat together on a bench near a big hedge. Everyone was busy socializing, going for drinks and food at the buffet tables, on the other side of the dimly lit garden, but we didn't get up. The absence of light and language must have helped us to communicate because she had to she move closer and closer to me. She looked at me more than I looked her because the moment she looked at me, I had to look away.
Suddenly she took my hand and placed it down her shirt. I was shocked by this unexpected gesture, and I didn't know what to do to conceal my nerves. My instinct told me to remove my hand and sniff it. This amused her, so she took my hand and put it down her shirt again and told me to do it again. That night when I went back home I could still feel her face cream on my skin. At the teachings the next day, still it was there even though I had thoroughly washed my face, and I felt so uncomfortable and worried that people would find out. I could smell her perfume on me for so long.
As Arundati Roy wrote: \"In those early amorphous years when memory had only just begun, when life was full of beginnings and no ends, and everything was forever\u2026\" the phenomena of infatuation and the need to have someone else's existence, began.<\/p>","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"project_category":[85],"project_tag":[],"class_list":["post-3346","project","type-project","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","project_category-episodes-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/3346","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/project"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3346"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/3346\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3348"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3346"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"project_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_category?post=3346"},{"taxonomy":"project_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_tag?post=3346"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}