The Tibetan Book of the Dead

A dust storm was blowing over Beijing turning its sky into a blanket of hazy yellow when a vintage Red Flag limousine stopped at Yonghe Temple at the northeastern corner side of the old walled city. It was 9:30 a.m. in a spring morning. A lone passenger in a well-tailored Mao jacket emerged from the limousine---attended by a young Tibetan ... He then sought out the abbot who was seated at the center of the prayer hall meditating with his eyes closed. "Buddha has mercy upon me," he muttered, knelling in front of the abbot. "Om Mani Padme Hum ("Praise the Jewel in the Lotus")," the abbot chanted, recognizing the familiar voice. "What sin have you committed that you wish to seek the Buddha's compassion, my benefactor?" "Not a sin I have committed." The old man leaned closer. "But a sin I am about to commit." ""I am committed to kill a man ... lest he would surely harm my loved one," he whispered. Lotus Born, sitting quietly with a beam of shinny light coming through his eyes, spoke slowly. “Life is extremely cruel. As soon as one is born, one faces death. Every living organism including you and I is destined to die. However, death is not the end of life. It is only a manifestation of the consciousness or the soul departing from the physical body. The body will decay and disintegrate, but the consciousness will exist eternally, through rebirth and the six ways of reincarnation.” “We gather here today to announce the archeological project of the ancient kingdom of Zhang Zhung of Upper Tibet. The objective of the expedition is the recovery of ancient relics containing the original teaching of Tonpa Shenrab Miwo. The Enlightened Savior was the founder of Yungdrung Bon, the indigenous religion of the kingdom of Zhang Zhung that had existed in Upper Tibet since four thousand years ago—circa 2,500 BCE. "Your archeological expedition will be the bait to "tease the snake out of its pit" ... if I may borrow from one of our old Chinese slang," said Grandpa. “I was accompanied by your father. We went into the “no-man’s land” in Ngari in 1934. That was the first secret expedition of the Nazi S.S. … and not the last. It was the first time we heard of the ancient kingdom of Zhang Zhung, the Yungdrung Bon religion and Bardo Thodol.” “We discove the CIA was secretly training Tibetan fighters across the Indian border. The CIA in Tibet was headed by our old friend, Peter Lord..." “The Himalayas and the Gangdise Mountains do not believe in history—only the eternity of the sky, rivers, ice and snow. History was like the wet air forever blocked outside by the encircling mountains. Time was frozen among the mud forest. The kingdom of Guge evaporated like water just as the wild running river below which had dried up ... “Brahmanism was brought to India by the Aryans from Southern Siberia as early as 1,500 BCE. India’s Brahmans, Persia’s Zoroastrians and Upper Tibet’s Yungdrung Bon shared many common characteristics in their religious faith such as reincarnation, funerary rituals, and similarities in their gods.” “If the Aryans had gone into India, it seemed they must also have gone into Tibet … certainly the western Himalayas ...” The choppers landed on a foothill where Mount Kailash was within clear sight. It was a perfect cloudless clear day. The enigmatic Mount Kailash forever covered in snow jutted up into the deep blue sky like the breast of a lone virgin. Within its shadow is the Sutlej Valley where the sacred lake and the ghost lake flowed into the four great rivers of Asia: the Sutlej into India, the Indus to Pakistan, the Karnali into the Ganges and the Yarlung Zangpo flowing across Tibet into the Brahmaputra in Bengali. Worshiped by Hindus and Buddhists from India, Nepal, and Tibet, Mount Kailash at 6,656 meters above sea level was the holiest of all holy mountains of Tibet. “So, this is the Garuda Valley … and the Silver Palace of the kingdom of Zhang Zhung!” Dr McGrath called out, flushing with excitement. “We are in Kyunglung, the Garuda Valley. This is Kyunglung Ngulkar Karpo, the Garuda Silver Palace, the cradle of our civilization some four thousand years ago if not earlier,” Dr Trungpa declared ... Suspended in timeless space, his consciousness successively traversed the three stages of bardo finally reaching the Gate of Wombs. Led by the King of Hell, he moved forward focusing his vision high above. Without looking downward, he was led past the Womb of Hell and the Womb of the Fiery Ghost. Going forward without looking straight or sideways, he went past the Womb of Animal and then the Womb of Human. By then, Yeshe’s consciousness was in a state of void free from any human emotions of anger, jealousy and greed. He had become Selfless. Yeshe came in front of the Womb of the Living Buddha where upon entering he would incarnate into a Living Buddha in his “next life”. Nima Ganpa stood frozen, mouth agape. Crumbled against the wall were mummified soldiers in full uniform. Weapons were scattered on the dusty floor: swords, axes and spears. Broken skulls and bones of human and animals were everywhere. A mummified shaman wearing a mask of a black demon sat erect on a stone altar in the middle of the circular chamber holding a cane made of bronze decorated with three human skulls. “It must have been a sacrificial temple,” suggested Dr Trungpa .... At the center of the swastika altar was a cistern carved into the stone base covered with a stone slab. Stretching forward, she lifted up the stone slab sealed with some kind of incense powder. Pointing her flashlight and pressing her face close to the cistern, she took in the remarkable sight set before her. Her heart seemed to have skipped a beat. “Oh my,” she gasped. “What is it?” Dr Toni asked breathlessly. Letting out a prolonged breath, Nima Ganpa was speechless. “My Buddha,” she said. “Do you know what this may mean? My Buddha, this has to be the find of the century … unprecedented in the history of Tibet.” Tears flowed from the professor’s eyes. He was profoundly touched driven by an irresistible urge to fall on his knee praising god—whoever that god might have been. Here in his hand, he held the teachings of the journey of death; its words pressed into wet clay over who knew how many thousand years ago by the disciple of the Enlightened Savior so that men might learn the truth of death and possibly the path of rebirth and liberation. Early in the morning, commotions and noises were all around the camp. Poso was running toward Nima Ganpa. “The Ngari nomad is dead,” pronounced Poso sucking in air. “One of the soldiers found his body deep inside the cave where he used to spend his nights.” “What happened?” Dr Toni now came out from his yurt. “There was no bodily wound … other than his neck was broken inside,” Poso said. “By a martial art adept?” Nima Ganpa asked clutching her hands. “Dorje warriors?” Her eyes narrowed passing inquiringly over the young man’s darkened face. “Not Dorje warriors!” Poso muttered quietly into her ear. “The sign of attack of Clouds Hand of the Shambhala School, the most advanced martial arts of the sacred treasure hunters.” Nima Ganpa’s face turned to ashes. A lone sniper shot from a long-distance rifle equipped with an infra-red night-vision telescope rang out breaking the silence. The head warrior felt metal piercing deep into the side of his neck as the single bullet exploded beneath his ear.