graced by a man? But no, she reminded herself, don`t shortchange other dear men. She
thought about her group. There was Tony, who would do anything for her. And Stuart,
too, could be generous. And Julius, whose love seemed unending. But Vijay`s subtlety—
that was uncommon, that was exotic.
And Vijay? He too fell into a reverie, reviewing his conversation with Pam.
Uncommonly excited, his heart raced, and he sought to calm himself. Opening his leather
shoulder pouch, he took out an old wrinkled cigarette package, not to smoke—the
package was empty, and besides he had heard of how peculiar Americans were about
smoking. He merely wished to study the blue–and–white package, which bore the
silhouette of a man wearing a top hat and, in firm black letters, the brand name, The
Passing Show.
One of his first religious teachers had called his attention to the Passing Show, a
brand of cigarettes his father smoked, and instructed him to begin his meditation by
thinking of all of life as a passing show, a river carrying all objects, all experience, all
desires, past his unswerving attention. Vijay meditated on the image of a flowing river
and listened to his mind`s soundless words,anitya, anitya —impermanence. Everything is
impermanent, he reminded himself; all of life and all experience glide by as surely and
irrevocably as the passing landscape seen through the train window. He closed his eyes,
breathed deeply, and rested his head upon his seat; his pulse slowed as he entered the
welcome harbor of equanimity.
Pam, who had been eyeing Vijay discreetly, picked up the wrapping that had fallen
to the floor, read the label, and said, «The Passing Show—that`s an unusual name for
cigarettes.»
Vijay slowly opened his eyes and said, «As I said, we Indians are very serious.
Even our cigarette packages have messages for the conduct of life. Lifeis a passing
show—I meditate on that whenever I feel inner turbulence.»
«Is that what you were just doing a minute ago? I should not have disturbed you.»
Vijay smiled and gently shook his head. «My teacher once said that one can not be
disturbed by another. It is only oneself who can disturb one`s equanimity.» Vijay
hesitated, realizing even as it happened that he was awash in desire: he so craved the
attention of his traveling companion that he had turned his meditation practice into a
mere curiosity—all for the sake of a smile from this lovely woman who was simply an
apparition, part of the passing show, soon to pass out of his life and to dissolve into the
nonbeing of the past. And knowing, too, that his next words would only take him farther
from his path, Vijay nonetheless rashly plunged ahead.
«There is something I would like to say: I shall long treasure our meeting and our
conversation. Shortly I shall depart from this train to an ashram where I must face silence
for the next ten days, and I am immeasurably grateful for the words we have exchanged,
the moments we have shared. I am reminded of American prison films where the
condemned man is permitted to order anything he wishes for his last meal. May I say that
I have had my wishes for a last conversation fully granted.»
Pam simply nodded. Rarely at a loss for words, she did not know how to respond
directly to Vijay`s courtliness. «Ten days at an ashram? Do you mean Igatpuri? I`m on
my way there to a retreat.»
«Then we have the same destination and the same goal—to be taught Vipassana
meditation by the honored guru Goenka. And very soon, too—it is the next stop.»
«Did you say вЂ?ten days of silence`?»
«Yes, Goenka always requires noble silence—aside from necessary discussions
with the staff, the students are to utter no words. Are you experienced in meditation?»
Pam shook her head no. «I`m a university professor. I teach English literature, and
last year one of my students had a healing and transformative experience at Igatpuri. This
student has become very active in organizing Vipassana retreats in the United States and
is currently helping to plan an American tour by Goenka.»
«Your student hoped to offer her teacher a gift. She wished that you, too, would
undergo a transformation?»
«Well, something like that. It wasn`t that she felt I needed to change some
particular thing about myself; it was more that she had profited so much that she wanted
me, and others, to have the same experience.»
«Of course. My question was ill put; in no way did I mean to suggest that you need
transformation. I was interested in your student`s enthusiasm. But did she prepare you for
this retreat in any way?»
«She pointedly did not. She herself stumbled upon this retreat quite by accident and
said that it would be best if I too entered it with an entirely open mind. You`re shaking
your head. You disagree.»
«Ah, remember that Indians shake their heads from side to side when they agree
and up and down when they disagree—the reverse of the American custom.»
«Oh my God. I think I`ve sensed this unconsciously because so much of my
interaction with people here has been slightly askew. I must have confused people I
spoke with.»
«No, no, Indians who come into contact with Westerners make that adaptation. As
for your student`s advice to you, I am not certain I agree that you should be entirely
unprepared. Let me point out that this is not a beginner`s retreat. Noble silence,
meditation beginning at fourA.M. , little sleep, one meal a day. A difficult regimen. You
must be strong. Ah, the train slows. We are at Igatpuri.»
Vijay stood, collected his belongings, and lifted Pam`s valise down from the
overhead rack. The train stopped. Vijay prepared to leave and said, «The experience
begins.»
Vijay`s words offered little comfort, and Pam was growing more apprehensive.
«Does that mean we will not be able to speak to one another during the retreat?»
«No communication, not written, not sign language.»
«E–mail?»
Vijay did not smile. «Noble silence is the correct path to benefit from Vipassana.»
He seemed different. Pam felt him already drifting away.
«At least,” she said, «it will offer me comfort to know you are there. It`s less
foreboding to imagine being alone together.»
«Alone together. A felicitous phrase,” Vijay responded without looking at her.
«Perhaps,” Pam said, «we may meet again on this train after the retreat.»
«Of that we must not think. Goenka will teach us that it is only the present we must
inhabit. Yesterday and tomorrow do not exist. Past remembrances, future longings, only
produce disquiet. The path to equanimity lies in observing the present and allowing it to
float undisturbed down the river of our awareness.» Without looking back, Vijay hoisted
his bag onto his shoulder, opened the doors of the compartment, and walked away.
16
Schopenhauer`
s Main Woman
