The Prince and the Zombie (3 page)

At once the magicians turned themselves into savage falcons, eager to catch the fake bird, which had disappeared into one of the many caves in the area. Sure of having at last trapped the prince, the magicians entered the cavern after him. To their great surprise, they came upon a hermit who was doing his retreat of three years, three months, and three days. It was none other than the guru Gömpo Ludrup, a great Tibetan scholar. Immediately the magicians spotted the prince, who had changed into one of the beads in the rosary the guru was holding in his right hand. They quickly changed themselves into false pilgrims who had come seeking the venerable old man's blessing. They prostrated themselves to the guru. When they were close enough to him, with a sudden move, they ripped the rosary out of his hand. It immediately broke, and the hundred and eight beads were sent rolling around on the ground. Instantly the prince transformed all the beads, including himself, into ants, which began trying to hide themselves in various cracks in the wall of the cave. But before the false ant could escape, the magicians spotted it. They at once turned themselves into hens who could speedily peck up the ants and devour them. Then the prince, in a last transformation, turned himself into a cook equipped with a well-sharpened knife. He threw himself on the seven amazed hens and quickly slit their throats. The guru's meditation cave was now covered in blood and resembled a slaughterhouse.

A hush fell. The prince, who in the meantime had become himself again, was feeling elated. “Now it is I who am the greatest magician in Tibet!” he said to himself, full of pride. However, strangely enough, this victory did not bring him a real feeling of happiness. There was no one there in the cave to admire him or applaud. There was no one except the sage, sitting in meditation. Very troubled and upset about what was going on within him, the prince, feeling rather lost, turned to the old man. For the first time, the sage opened his eyes, directed his gaze, full of compassion, toward the prince, and said:

“Whatever we do, say, or think each moment leaves a karmic imprint on this present life and on all our lives to come. The positive imprints cause positive experiences for us, and the negative imprints result in negative experiences. That is the law of cause and effect. My dear Prince Dechö Zangpo, in order to learn magic, you ran away from the palace and caused your parents, the king and queen, and also your people much grief. You disguised yourself as a poor pilgrim, and many believers shared with you the little bit of food that they had. Through these highly negative acts, you have created for yourself very bad karma for this life and many lives to come.”

The stern voice, the penetrating gaze filled with compassion, and the words of wisdom of the guru had an indescribable effect on the prince. It was as though suddenly a bolt of lightning had cut through the depths of night. His inner veils of obscuration were swept aside all at once, yielding to an extremely clear and vivid vision of the course of his life. In a fraction of a second, his entire life and all the people who had been close to him—his parents, his people, the magician brothers, and the sage—passed before his eyes. “How much suffering I have caused!” he said in a tortured and barely audible voice. The prince realized the gravity of his actions with brutal clarity. Shocked, he sank into a state of profound despair that lasted for days and nights. Incapable of movement, he lay curled up on the floor in a corner of the cave. He completely lost his sense of time. After countless days and nights, a great movement of sadness and remorse took place in him. Two big warm tears formed in his eyes, and then soon a river of salt tears poured down his cheeks; the tears spread over the floor of the cave, purifying it and washing away the zombies of the magicians. This torrent of tears flowed for three days and three nights. The whole body of the prince shook with powerful sobs that echoed against the walls of the cave. Finally the flood of tears subsided. Deeply afflicted, the prince raised his eyes to the great meditator Gömpo Ludrup and asked for his help.

“Great teacher, I beg of you, tell me how I can purify myself from this terrible burden of negative karma. I will do anything in my power, no matter how hard it is, to bring about this purification.”

A very long silence followed, during which the prince kept his attention fixed on the guru so that he would not miss a movement or a word from him. Moved by the profound remorse of the young noble who had been led by the power of his obsessions to stray from the path, the old man finally spoke. With a voice seeming to come from another world, he uttered these words of aid:

“Dear prince, very far from here, in a neighboring country called India, the people bring their dead to a place called Silwaytsal. There they either burn or bury them. In that place, there is a zombie named Ngödrup Dorje. His name means ‘He Who Fulfills All Dreams.' He is very cunning. If you succeed in capturing him and bringing him back here to me, which is an extremely difficult task, you will be completely purified of your negative karma, because at the very moment you succeed in bringing him here, the four hundred and twenty-four diseases in the world that have remained incurable until now will be conquered. In that way, millions of lives will be saved and you will accumulate incalculable merit.”

Deeply touched by the compassion and boundless benevolence of the guru toward the nasty man he had become, the prince resolved to find Ngödrup Dorje, to take him prisoner, and to bring him back to this cave.

Before the prince left, the old man gave him some essential advice: “Once you have captured this very cunning zombie, he will talk to you unceasingly, trying to get you to drop your guard; but above all, you must never reply to him, because if you utter a single word he will escape.”

The old man also provided the prince with four implements endowed with special powers: a small cone-shaped object, red like sandalwood; an ax so sharp it could cut down a tree with one blow; a rope that could be made long enough to tie up anything; and lastly, a sack capable of containing a limitless number of items.

Prince Dechö Zangpo was very excited about this mission, and he was firmly resolved to succeed at it by making use of all the inner resources that he had been able to develop in his past and that he had found produced the hoped-for results: his intelligence, his courage, and his perseverance. But this time he was devoting himself to a greater and more noble mission than ever before, one that could benefit all beings. Armed with his four precious implements and the guru's good advice, the young prince set off with great determination on the road to India to find the dwelling place of the zombie.

3

Hunting Down the Zombie

P
RINCE DECHÖ ZANGPO
once again traveled across the whole breadth of the kingdom. His destination this time was India, the place in that country called Silwaytsal described by the old guru, the dwelling place of the dead. He had hardly arrived there when he was surrounded by large numbers of dead beings elbowing each other and all calling out at the same time: “
Halala!
” and “
Hululu!
” “I am the one you are looking for. Take me! Take me!”

At this point the prince remembered the first magical object that Guru Ludrup had given him. Following the teacher's instructions, he touched the heads of the dead beings with the cone-shaped red object, repeating over and over, “You are not the one. You are not the one.” This caused them to flee immediately.

After a short time, as he looked around him, he realized that a single dead being was not behaving in the same way as the others and had a very different appearance. The top of him was gold, the bottom of him was silver, and he had a mane of pure turquoise. As the guru had predicted, this one fled to the top of a sandalwood tree, saying, “I am not the right one! I am not the right one!” The prince knew for sure that this was Ngödrup Dorje, “He Who Fulfills All Dreams.” He took hold of the second object the guru had given him, the ax, with which he lightly touched the tree. This simple action made the top of the tree tremble, and the prince began speaking to Ngödrup Dorje: “Come down to the ground. If you don't, I will cut down this sandalwood tree.”

Very cunning and sure of being invincible, the spirit replied, “Poor prince—cutting down the tree, you will tire yourself out. Therefore I will be the one to make the effort, and I'll come down to you.”

The prince grabbed him and put him in the sack, which immediately adjusted to the size of its captive. Then at once the prince tied the sack up with the magic rope. Because the prince was still carrying the red cone in his hand, the other dead beings did not approach again. Well content, the prince started out on the return journey with the intention of placing his precious burden before the guru as quickly as possible.

On the third day, the prince reached a great barren plain that had to be crossed. It was at that point that Ngödrup Dorje, sly fellow that he was, began speaking to him in a very sweet and soothing voice:

“In this desolate region, there are no people and you will not find a place to rest, not even a place the size of a prairie-dog dropping. So to make this long journey a little more pleasant, I propose two solutions. Either you, who are a living being, tell me a story, or I, who am a dead being, will tell you one.”

The prince, who was very much on his guard, did not utter a word, and so the zombie began to relate to him one of his quite excellent stories.

4

The Traveling Guitar Player

O
NCE UPON A TIME
there was a traveling guitar player named Dranyen Tsikshipa, “The Four-String Guitar.” He was endowed with great virtuosity, and on top of that, he had a great deal of compassion for suffering beings. Thanks to the merit he had accumulated in former lives, he made a good living and never lacked for anything. He liked to make others happy through his music and traveled far and wide doing so, crossing mountains and valleys. He played for the hardworking tillers of the fields, stone masons, lowland nomads, the merchants whose caravans traveled for weeks on end over the high uninhabited plateaus. He was invited to play for wedding parties, village fairs, and New Year's celebrations; and he gave open-air concerts during the market season.

One beautiful sunny morning, as Dranyen Tsikshipa was walking along the bank of a stream, he ran across a man who was attempting to kill a white snake with his knife. Filled with compassion for the animal, which was very frightened, the young guitar player cried out, “
Nyingje!
[Compassion!]—don't hurt this creature. Please, let it go its way.”

“Mind your own business! I have a herd of goats to protect, and this poisonous snake is a big danger to me and my animals,” said the pitiless man.

So the guitar player took a piece of gold out of the big breast pocket of his
chuba
and offered it to the man in exchange for the life of the white snake. Surprised and happy with this bargain, the goatherd freed the creature, which quickly glided away into the river. Well content with his piece of gold, the man returned to his herd.

The young guitar player continued on his way. Around noon, as he was approaching a village, he met an old man who was striking a dog blow after blow without letting up. This violence toward the poor animal upset the young guitar player, who shouted out, “
Nyingje!
Do not harm this creature. Please, please, let it live.”

“Mind your own business! I am the village elder, and this vicious dog is a big danger to my people,” the old man replied pitilessly.

Once again the young guitar player took a gold piece out of his breast pocket and offered it to the old man in exchange for the life of the dog. The aggressive man, very happy with this advantageous bargain, did not have to think long. He accepted this exceptional sum and went back home. Dranyen Tsikshipa, his heart light within him, resumed his journey.

That evening he arrived in another village and encountered a man who was about to kill a cat. Filled again with compassion, Dranyen Tsikshipa cried out, “
Nyingje!
Do not harm this creature. Please let it live.”