The Goner…

During such times, the world was an alien place, a dead place. He laughed. He shouted. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind whispering names of the dead. The dead answered. He heard them all. It was strange.

He laughed. People looked at him with pity. He didn’t mind them. He didn’t see them.

It all happened that day. When cattle had settled in their sheds and chickens retired in their coops; after fodder had been gathered and wooden palls filled with water, they saw him talk to a prayer flag and laughing hysterically.

He was a goner. They told each other. Such fine young man, to be punished for unknown karma. They pitied him. They couldn’t do anything. It was beyond the practice of the village doctor.

The young man first heard a faint hum in his ears, a melody he knew not existed. It was soothing, out of the world, transporting. A melody seemingly familiar, yet unheard. It often accompanied flickering lights and shades that danced before his eyes. He smiled. It was a rare sight.

He saw himself. He understood existence. He was happy.

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