"After I regained consciousness. I knew in my heart that my wife and daughter were dead. I wanted to get back to them to help with their passage into the bardo realm. But they tied me up. And I felt this torrent of electric surge burst out. I did not even recognized it was coming out of me. For even in the darkest moment in the Thought reform Labor Camp with the Chinese I had never experienced such darkness. I almost could see the darkness of void coming out of my mouth.
Then I felt the mountain was answering me back with this sub-sonic BOOM BOOM and it got louder and louder as the stream of darkness from me intensified its pace. All of a sudden I felt this released like pissing after holding a full bladder for too long. I saw the avalanche buried the Army's out post." As the Sherpa spoke, his voice remained deep and peaceful as if telling some other person’s tale.

"The next day I was able to get my wife and daughter’s body and bury them. I lay them side by side just like the way we used to sleep in a single bed."
The Seeker started to sob. The Sherpa looked at her with such compassion and peace.
"You should drink your tea it is getting cold." The Sherpa gently stroke her hair.
"So how did you find peace? How can anyone find peace after what had happened to you?" asked the Seeker.
"Nothing happened to me. I was just grazed by a bullet. It was my wife and child that got killed. This took me a long time to realize. I was walking in a daze for the rest of the journey. I was a walking corpse." The Sherpa paused and brushed away a moth that kept flying into the oil lamp.
Just like this moth attracted to the light. I felt being drawn to death. How I long to end it. But my fellow travelers had started to believe I was their good luck charm; I was their Lama. So they fed me and washed me. I doubt I would have survived if left alone. I would probable just sit immobile on a rock until the physical body withered away." The Sherpa sighed. He was very closed to death. He could almost smell the dark sweet smell of the Angle mushroom. Just one of them would killed a man instantly.

"So one night when my traveling companion was drunk from celebrating their final crossing into Nepal. I managed to get away to the stream here. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Somehow I find myself standing on the edge of the stream. I must had stood there for a long time because I noticed the reflection of the moon was now high up in the sky. My body started to sway. The smell of death started to get stronger and I felt a deep thirst." The Sherpa shivered slightly knowing how close to death he was that night.

"Suddenly, I heard this wispy voice, ‘ you are blocking my view of the moon.’ By reflex I apologized and moved to the side. Then I realized I did not notice any person there when I arrived at the stream. When I turned around, I found that indeed I was standing right in front of an old wizen woman with the brightest eyes in a amused squint.

‘Oh sorry grandmother, I didn’t know I was blocking your view,’ I apologized again. As I turned to walk Down the stream, she crackled like crumbled leaves,

’ where do want to die? You know, I had never observe a fool trying to drown himself in such shallow water why don’t you do it here I would find it very amusing indeed I who lived a hundred years must keep finding entertainment to live longer don’t you agree.’ The old woman spoke in a unceasing kind of watery flow of the old Tibetan dialect that reminded me of my grandmother. She would speak the same voice and lured me to sleep every night.

‘I wasn’t really trying to drown myself in such shallow water,’ I replied.
‘Don’t lie to an old woman, I could see death surrounding you like the shadow of a coffin and you had been standing here for almost two hours in front of my meditation spots.’ she chided me.
I noticed then that she was sitting in a kneeling meditation posture and next to her there were several head stones.
‘I see that you noticed. Those are my family. They had all die a long time ago and I couldn’t really remember what they die of isn’t it amusing haha...’the old woman laughed in quick staccato laugh like burst of a string of fire cracker. ‘ if you decided not to kill yourself tonight and entertain this old bag of bone then you better make yourself useful and carry a bucket of water to my house well come along I hope you are strong enough to do that my little Lama...’she stood up in one fluid silver motion like a wild goose taking off from the water. I followed her into her house." The Sherpa paused and sipped his tea.

"So this was her house?" the Seeker asked in an outburst.

"You are right. This was her house. After she died I buried her along with her family and I just kept living here by myself until I met you." The Sherpa laughed as if some private joke that the Seeker did not shared in. The seeker noticed the Sherpa had been drawing rings of circle with the spilled tea on the table all this time. The seeker had observed the Sherpa had some interesting habit of talking and moving at the same time. She kept looking at the rings of circle.

"Let me show you. Come on." The Sherpa led her by the stream. And there they found the head stone of a dozen graves. The seeker noticed that all the head stones had flowers and little bowls of fresh fruits and rice.

Bowing deeply to a head stone the Sherpa continued his story," this old woman was waiting for me. She had vision of me coming and waited for me here. I was late by a week. Gradually I moved in the house as she get more and more frail. I started to cook and do most of the chore for her. Every night we would sit by the stream deep in meditation Living with her I felt my heart’s ice slowly thawing. And every day, a little bit of life filtered in. I lost track of time as the cycle of day and years blended into one and other. But my heart was not totally at ease, the splintered of despair still lodge in the inner chamber. Every month I would go to the village and returned dead drunk. The old woman never would never say any thing about that. Then one fine autumn full moon night after an extraordinary meditation.

The old woman hugged me and said,’ good bye my little Lama.’ As she started to stand up I fell on my knee and beseeched her,‘ grandmother do not leave yet, my heart is not totally calm,’

‘all right, bring me you damn heart and I’ll calm it for you.’ she snapped back. I stood there thundered struck and searched within me for my pain, my suffering. I knew she was dying and this was my last chance. I must find my heart, my mind to get her help. I did not know how long we remained there.

‘I can not seem to find it anywhere.’ I stuttered weakly. Oh, I knew then that I had failed her. I could not find my uncalm heart.

‘Well, nowhere, nothing to calm. I have calmed your heart. Bye, my son." with the last word, the old woman’s whole body went totally still. I noticed the first morning star had appeared. With a deep bow, I carried her back to the house and lay her body on the bed. I covered her body with her wedding blanket of phoenix and dragon. Then I remained there for seven day and seven night chanting the rainbow body mantra. Right in front of me, her body started to transform into light. By the end of the seven day, the only thing that remained under blanket is her nails and one single gold tooth. I guessed we can not take any thing with us into the bardo realm." The Sherpa finished the story with a big flourish of tracing a last circle in the table and then drawing a straight line through all the circles.

"So is your heart calm?" asked the Seeker.
"No!", the Seeker laughed, " but I don’t care it is calm or not, hahaha..."

Slightly annoyed, the Seeker did not quite understand what was the humor in failing to achieve enlightenment. Wasn’t the whole purpose of enlightenment is to realize tranquillity.