Shadows of questions

To hell with philosophy!

He was an angry man. Angry man is not a reasonable man. Reasonable man is religious.

He thew a copy of Za Patrul Rinpoche’s Words of my Perfect Teacher right to my face and demanded I studied them to perfect my devotion towards a teacher. Who that teacher was I never knew. He did not tell me.

Next thing I knew, I copied some passages from the book and pasted on the wall – a reminder that I must study the book. Instead I ended up reading Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra. I thought I was understanding the book when a question struck me.

Why do I do this? I thought without definite answer. I did not want any answer. I just asked because someone said wise man asked questions, the unasked ones. But mine was asked and unasked by so many minds – both sane and insane. I was not a wise man.

I doubted my master’s anger. I doubted so many of his temperements, even his smiles and kindness.

One day he called me into his chamber and told me to go away.

Where? I wanted to know.

It’s upto you. He said, smiling.

I left, hurt and lost.

So many questions. No answers.

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