The God Principle

(c) John, Rekesh 2004-2008. No part of this work may be copied or reproduced without the author's permission

The Buddha's Feast

Much of what I learned about Buddhism can be attributed to an Asian friend of mine, who was also a fine Master, and ran his own school. A lot of our personal discussion on Buddhism happened within the confines of a small, but elaborately decorated restaurant, called 'Diamond In the Lotus'. Much teaching and wisdom was imparted to self during the course of a dozen or so meals there.

This particular incident was during one of the earliest of these occasions. My friend had ordered his usual Buddha’s Feast from the menu. I had ordered what sounded suspiciously like an Italian dish, called the Broccoli Brothers, which consisted of… you guessed it… broccoli, broccoli & broccoli, in peanut sauce.  Now ordering is usually the beginning of a deep and lengthy discourse on buddhist tenets and precepts. As a prelude, my friend picked up his chopsticks and inspected them closely for visible teeth marks. With a satisfied grunt he placed them back on the table, relaxed further into his seat and entered full discourse mode. With a hungry soul, I listened.

Starting with a little zazen for appetizer, I soon digested the Buddha spiced with a tangy Lankavatara sutra, and then chewed on the Bodhidharma and various bodhisattvas, garnished with exotic koans. While tucking them in, I couldn’t help but notice that my friend was visibly excited and disturbed about something I said or did or thought or felt; for his penetrating eyes could always see right through me. A few discreet peeks to my back indicated that this 'something' happened to be a buxom and curvaceous female on the table behind me; one who was giving him “the eye”. I didn’t think of it as unusual in any way, as she appeared to represent that special “working woman” class which frequented the area. What better place to pick up prospective customers than a specialty restaurant frequented by monks?

I thought about this and decided to ask a few questions on buddhist teachings in related domains. But when I looked up from my plate, my friend had vanished from his chair. Looking around, I discovered that he had somehow teleported himself to the next table, and was actively engaged in pleasant conversation with the female. There was much smiling, waving and the shaking of hands and other body parts, accompanied by hushed but animated conversation. After a while he was back in his chair, looking all excited.

“She recognized me!” he started with a smile, “how do you like that?”

Looking at my friend’s shaven head, I didn’t think that was a substantially difficult task on her part, but had to ask, “You know her from somewhere?”

“Oh, no! But I knew by her looks that she’s got the real stuff. An expert can always tell, you know. Its kind of intuitive.”

“Quite so!” I agreed, “You are going to meet her then?”

“Well, yes! She’ll come over to my place tomorrow. And she’s looking forward to it.”

“I’m sure it will be quite an experience.”

“I have asked her to come prepared. You see, she already has a famous teacher who has taught her some special techniques.”

“Famous teacher?”

“Have you heard of Yin Pin Moi?”

I had. “Yes, of course!" I said, "Why, she’s quite famous in this country if you ask me. So Yin is the teacher?”

“That’s right. Yin is quite special. It’s not often that you find one with such a blend of artistry and skill. I’ve watched many of her videos.”

“True,” I agreed, “she does twist herself into all kinds of positions, doesn’t she?”

“Ah,” he said affirmatively, “She’s unique that way. It comes from her exposure to some Indian techniques. They have some excellent sutras too. She blends them very well, you know. But nowadays she is facing some problems in the community.”

“Problems? what problems?”

“Sects of course! Buddhism is famous for it, don’t you know? She’s been hounded by some of the orthodox communities around here. They stick to the old missionary way and won't have anything else. Yin is tired of such sects, this girl was telling me.”

“I understand. Think this girl has potential to become someone like Yin?”

“We’ll she’s not quite the advanced level yet. Otherwise you'll find her shaven obviously.”

This was surprising, such revelations about her in such a short time. But then, it made sense too.

“Yin did appear to be shaven, if I remember right.” I agreed.

“Well, of course! The best of them always are. That’s how the bodhisattvas like ‘em.”

I had no clue that the bodhisattvas had such distinguished tastes.

Then came a surprising invitation.

“She said she might be able to bring Yin along. Would you like to join us?”

“Wow! really?” I blurted out, “Thanks! Now who would want to miss Yin Pin Mei?”

For a moment he stared at me suspiciously, a little confused. Then he asked very slowly,

“Did you say Yin Pin Mei?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Oh, no!” he almost shouted, “It's Moi, the famous Zen^(*) master. Mei is some filthy adult movie actress. There’s a world of difference in Chinese between Moi and Mei!”

I slunked out of the restaurant much later, chastised to the bone. Me and my filthy mind!

But somehow even today I can't help wondering how he knew the difference.