We arrived at Dragon Island in the late evening and were warmly welcomed by the Head Monk. He was presently engaged in a community project which provided homes for a number of poor families and he promised to brief us the next morning. Om and I shared a room facing the sea and the sound of the waves and wind reminded us of the time when we first met our old friend, the Dragon. We wondered whether we would see her again.
The next morning, Head Monk gave us a short briefing on the community project and promised he would take us there later. Since it was a nice day, Om and I decided to visit the village which Head Monk said was only about half an hour's walk from the monastery. We set off after lunch and on the way, Om filled me with stories of his travels to places like Cambodia and Tibet where he spent time delving into the Buddhist scriptures.
We must have walked for more than half an hour when we realised that we were still not anywhere near the village. We decided to ask an old woman who appeared to be returning from the village. She was very helpful and told us to take a short cut through a rubber plantation which would take us to the village in no time. She pointed in the direction of some rubber trees and after thanking her, we found the narrow path she showed us.
As we walked, the sky suddenly darkened and to our dismay, we heard a clap of thunder and heavy rain started pouring down on us. We ran along the path looking for shelter and soon found ourselves in a small clearing. To our surprise, we saw a young maiden with an umbrella sitting there amid some trees. She smiled at us and said, "You can shelter from the rain in my cottage. It is just beyond the bamboo fence. Follow me!" We were certainly happy at the prospect of getting out of the rain and followed her. She led us into her cottage and asked us to dry ourselves before the small fire in the room.
"Do you live here alone, Miss?" asked Om.
"Yes. I sell flowers in the village market. You're welcome to stay until the rain stops."
I looked around the place and saw that it was indeed very small, just enough for one person. A small bed in one corner, a stove in another and a table before the fire where we sat. Just behind the bed I saw a thick maroon coloured curtain, probably covering a window.
"My name is Po Po," the girl said. She told us she seldom had visitors and was indeed very happy to be of service to "distinguished" guests such as us.
"Why don't you both come to tea tomorrow?" she asked. "I would indeed be very honoured."
"Thank you, we would certainly love to," said Om without hesitation. I could see that he was quite enamoured by her simple beauty and hoped he hadn't forgotten that he is a monk.
"Om, perhaps we should check with Head Monk first," I said.
"Oh, I think it will be alright."
"Good! Then it's settled," said the girl smiling broadly. "Don't forget to bring your pet." She turned to look at me and reached out a skinny hand to stroke my head.
As she touched me, I was shocked to find that her hand was ice cold. Shivers ran up and down my spine, it was as though the hands of Death had actually touched me.
"I think we'd better go," I said, as I quickly moved aside and out of her reach. "The rain has stopped."
Om seemed quite reluctant to leave and chatted a bit more. I had to remind him that Head Monk was waiting dinner for us and finally he stood up to go.
On our way back, I mentioned to Om about Po Po's cold hand. He laughed and said, "There you go again. It was raining and very cool, it's not unusual for one's hands to be cold."
"I don't know, Om," I said. "She seems quite nice but then again, I have this uneasy feeling ..."
"Don't be silly," admonished Om. "All the same we shall get Head Monk's permission before going to tea at her house. Does that make you feel better?"
I didn't make any answer. I just felt something was not quite right.
(To be continued)
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| Caught in the rain |
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