“Like what?”
“Like you don’t really believe me.”
“Because I don’t really believe you.” Lobsang’s smile was so compassionate, so gentle, that it was impossible to take offense.
“I can show you the forms,” his visitor told him. “They must be handed in.”
“Oh, I believe all you say about the training and the parents and the marriage. I just don’t believe those are the real reasons you feel trapped.”
Deep furrows had returned to Raj Goel’s forehead. But this time they were furrows of perplexity.
“I thought you would agree that these are important responsibilities.”
“What—because I am a Buddhist monk?” chided Lobsang. “Because I’m a religious person who wants to uphold the status quo? Is that why you sought my advice?”
Raj Goel looked abashed.
“You are an intelligent, inquisitive young fellow, Raj. You have been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to become a man of the world and to get to understand a lot more not only about America but also about yourself. Why would you not seize this opportunity?”
Lobsang posed this as a serious question, and it was some time before his visitor answered. “Because I’m scared of what may happen?”
“Fear,” said Lobsang. “An instinct that prevents many people from taking actions that they know, deep down inside, would liberate them. Like a bird in a cage whose door has been opened, we are free to go out in search of fulfillment, but fear makes us look for all kinds of reasons not to.”
Raj Goel stared at the floor for a while before meeting Lobsang’s eyes. “You are right,” he admitted.
“The Indian Buddhist guru Shantideva had some wise words on this very subject,” Lobsang said. He began to quote: “‘When crows encounter a dying snake, / They will act as though they were eagles. / Likewise, if my self-confidence is weak, / I shall be injured by the slightest downfall.’
“Now is not the time to be weak or to let your fears overwhelm you, Raj. You may find that if you face your fears head-on, things may not be as bad as you think. Perhaps, after your parents get used to the idea, they won’t be so disappointed. The arranged marriage can wait. Or maybe in two years’ time, there can be a different match. In the meantime, there are many, many things to look forward to. I am sure you will find America an amazing place.”
“I know,” Raj Goel said, this time with conviction. Leaning forward in the chair, he picked up his briefcase and practically jumped up with newfound purpose. “You are definitely right! Thank you very much for your advice!”
The two men shook hands warmly.
“You may even meet a movie star,” suggested Lobsang.
“Which is why I must feel the fear,” Raj Goel declared with fervor, “and do it anyway!”
It is interesting how, once you have decided to strike out on a new course of action, events often transpire to help you. Not always in an obvious fashion, or immediately. And sometimes in ways you would never have considered.
That night, as inspired by Lobsang’s advice as Raj Goel had been, I decided to head across the temple courtyard to where the green light burned at the end of Mr. Patel’s market stall. No longer would I allow silly excuses to keep me pining on the windowsill. The fear of failure or of rejection was not for me. I wasn’t some silly budgerigar sitting in a cage with an open door.
The expedition was not a success. Not only did my tabby fail to materialize, but as I casually strolled through some of the lanes, I found myself getting more and more lost. It was only thanks to a Namgyal monk who recognized me as HHC and returned me to the door of my home that the evening didn’t end in a complete fiasco.
But the following afternoon, after my post-lunch siesta, I was passing out of Café Franc when who should suddenly appear at my side but my mackerel-striped admirer.
“I can’t believe you just did that!” he exclaimed, referring to my brazen visit to the emporium of a supposed cat-hater.
“Oh,” I said with a shrug, not only thrilled that he had appeared but also that he had done so at a moment when I possessed an almost impossible savoir faire. “It’s the way you do these things.”
“Where are you going?” he wanted to know.
“Jokhang,” I replied.
“You’re a member of the household?”
“Something like that.” I would reveal the truth of my lofty status in my own time. “As it happens,” I told him enigmatically, “I have an important lap to sit on in twenty minutes.”
“Whose lap?”