The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)

“More sophisticated,” suggested someone.

“That’s a value judgment,” said the biologist with a smile. “But some would agree. We shouldn’t forget, however, that there’s much we don’t know about human consciousness.”

All the while the biologist was speaking, Lobsang had been listening carefully, a serene presence in his red robes. Finally he asked, “Is human consciousness what brings you to McLeod Ganj?”

The scientist nodded. “Buddhism has much to teach the world about the nature of mind: what it is, what it is not, and how theories create divisions in our understanding of consciousness that don’t actually exist.”

“Mind transcends the world of thought,” said Lobsang.

The biologist met his eye with a look of deep recognition. “Quite so. And that simple but profound truth is something that we humans find hard to grasp.”

That evening I went to yoga class with Serena. During the past couple of weeks I’d become something of a regular. Rather than sitting alone in an empty apartment, I much preferred to perch on the wooden bench at the studio, listening to Ludo and watching his students work through the sequence of asanas that was becoming more familiar to me. In particular I liked the postclass discussions on the balcony and the warm companionship I felt while sitting on the rug as Serena and the others sipped their green tea, while the mountains enacted their own nightly ritual, their icy caps slowly deepening from white to burnished gold to cerise with the setting sun performing its own salutation.

This evening’s class was proceeding in the usual way, the students having worked through standing asanas before taking to their mats for seated twists. In his loose pants and T-shirt, Ludo was walking barefoot around the room, making an adjustment here and a suggestion there as he scrutinized every student’s posture in forensic detail.

It was as Ludo was standing with his back to the balcony, talking the class through Marichyasana III, the Sage’s Pose, that I caught the sudden movement. Behind him on the balcony rail a huge rat appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and paused on Serena’s scarf, which as usual she had draped over the rail before coming in to class.

I won’t pretend it was the precise location of the rat that made me react the way I did, although I knew how much the scarf meant to Serena. Though faded and worn, the yellow scarf with its embroidered hibiscus blooms was of great sentimental value, being the only gift from her father that she still possessed. I had heard her tell the story of his giving it to her one evening on their balcony at home when she was 12.

The unwelcome sight of a rodent outside provoked a sound I hadn’t even known I was capable of. Low and loud, it was a warning of such terrible foreboding that I could see the chill in Ludo’s eyes as he looked at me before turning to look outside. By the time he did, the rat had gone. Ludo went out on the balcony, pausing for only a moment before returning swiftly to the room.

“Please, all of you, get up calmly, collect your shoes, and leave the house. There’s a fire next door!”

Looking at the tall, youthful Indian man in the second row, Ludo asked, “Sid, could you use that extinguisher from the balcony?”

Sid nodded.

“I’ll get another one from the kitchen and come around from the back.”

Everyone else rushed to put on their shoes and get out the door. Serena grabbed me on the way. Within moments we were clustered in a group across the road from Ludo’s house, stunned by what was happening next door.

Flames were leaping from a window at the front of the house. Dark smoke billowed out, along with the smell of oil. The eaves were already alight. The gap between them and the eaves of Ludo’s house was very narrow.

Holding me tightly with one hand, Serena dialed the Dharamsala Fire Department with the other. Several other students hurried into the neighboring house to see what could be done from within. Still others dispersed in search of hoses and buckets of water.

From the corner of the balcony, Sid blasted Ludo’s eaves with the fire extinguisher before aiming it at the flames issuing from the kitchen window next door. Ludo raced out the front door of his house with a second extinguisher, just as a fireball exploded through the neighbor’s kitchen roof. Ludo focused his spray on the roof, unleashing a forceful blast of foam that made the flames retreat completely, only to burst out, moments later, a short distance away.

Sukie and Merrilee appeared, carrying the end of a garden hose from a house along the road.

“Don’t get that anywhere near the kitchen!” Ludo shouted over his shoulder. “This is probably an oil fire. Use the hose to dampen the house walls!” The woman and three children who lived next door were huddled helplessly on the side of the road. With her permission, Ludo headed into her house, seeking the source of the fire. The windows were glowing smoky orange. After two blasts from the fire extinguisher, the orange turned to black.

Out on the balcony, a smoke-smeared Sid was battling the fire on the eaves. The flames were blazing dangerously close to Ludo’s roof, and he would no sooner spray them into submission than they would leap back to life. The longer he fought, the weaker the spray coming from the extinguisher. Then it cut out completely. The flames shot up, gaining ground on the neighboring eaves, then leapt effortlessly across to Ludo’s house.

Cries of alarm rose from all who had gathered outside. Serena had been told a fire engine would be there in 20 minutes. But by then Ludo’s home and the yoga studio would be completely engulfed in flames.

Sid disappeared from the balcony, then emerged from the front door. “We need more extinguishers!” he shouted, looking down the road.

“The others are asking the neighbors,” Serena called back. “Two people are driving to the hardware store.”

A thunderous explosion inside the neighbor’s house was followed moments later by a fireball roaring out the kitchen window and up the side of Ludo’s house. Ludo’s efforts inside appeared to be failing, too. He came through the front door waving his extinguisher.

“Empty!” he yelled, quickly crossing the road.

For a moment Ludo and Sid stood staring at the fire. It had firm hold of the neighbors’ eaves and roof and had crossed to Ludo’s balcony. The students spraying water on the walls of both properties were struggling in vain. In no time the entire roof of the neighboring property would be ablaze, and Ludo’s would quickly follow.

A crowd of onlookers had formed, neighbors and passersby who were stunned, anxious, and mesmerized by the conflagration. It felt like an age later but it was probably only minutes before an ancient white Mercedes appeared, tearing up the street toward us, then braking sharply in front of the blazing house. Before the car had come to a halt, men in immaculate white livery and maroon caps leapt from both back doors. They were holding fire extinguishe

rs that were significantly larger than the two used by Ludo and Sid.