the five kingdoms of India put together. The journey to China is long and perilous. Only a handful of teachers are prepared to make it, or capable of enduring the hardships along the way.”
“I see.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the situation,” Prajnatara said solemnly.
A brief silence followed. It seemed Prajnatara was waiting for a reply.
“These are very important matters,” Bodhidharma offered, wondering what the master was expecting to hear.
“Vitally important! They are the key to the very future of The Way. So what do you say, my dear Bodhidharma?” Prajnatara demanded, the first signs of exasperation creeping into his voice.
“What do I say about what?” Bodhidharma asked, more bewildered than ever.
“About what we have been discussing …”
“I’m sorry Master, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bodhidharma said with a frown.
“About going there, of course.”
“Going where?”
“Oh, by the Buddha’s bones!” Prajnatara shouted. “To China, where else?”
Bodhidharma stared into his eyes and saw that he was serious. He let out a roar of laughter that shattered the silence. “You want to send me to China?” he asked, his body still shaking with mirth.
“That was what I had in mind,” Prajnatara said coolly, “and I don’t consider it a laughing matter.”
“Oh please forgive me Master,” Bodhidharma begged, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, “and please don’t think me rude. I’m flattered, really I am. I’m only laughing at the irony of it all, because, well, I haven’t told you yet, but I am a hopeless teacher. In the five years that I’ve been away, I’ve achieved nothing. I’m ashamed to say I have no disciples, not even a single student. The longest anyone has stayed with me has been six weeks, and this is teaching Indians, my own countrymen, people who speak the same language as me. So you see, I couldn’t possibly go to China and enlighten the Chinese. It would be a wasted journey.”
“I see,” Prajnatara said slowly.
“I’m the last person on earth you should want to send,” Bodhidharma said with a apologetic shrug.
Prajnatara sat quietly for a while, considering his words carefully before speaking. “Why do you think you failed, Bodhidharma?”
“My methods don’t work.”
“And what methods are those?” Prajnatara probed.
“Pointing directly to reality.”
“That is a very ambitious method, as I think I told you before.”
“You did Master, and I must admit you were right. But you know my thoughts on the matter. I don’t believe in debating scriptures and following rituals. For me it’s just so many empty words and empty practices. I would be a hypocrite if I started doing all that now. I hope you understand.”
“I understand more than you think,” Prajnatara reassured him. “You see The Way clearly Bodhidharma, but you don’t see how to illuminate it, yet. That is another skill you must learn.”
“You think I should teach scriptures and follow rituals?”
“I think students need something to grasp. You can’t simply snap your fingers and set them free. Things are never that easy, not for a teacher nor for a student.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Bodhidharma conceded. “I seem to be getting nowhere by trying to take a shorter path.”
“There is no shorter path. There is only the path. Each person must be allowed to tread it in their own time.”
Bodhidharma nodded glumly, “I guess you are right, as usual.”
“It’s never easy to break the spell of desire,” Prajnatara said. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Remember how long you yourself toiled under the yoke of delusion before you saw the truth.”
“I remember all too well,” Bodhidharma said with a bitter smile.
“Try to be a bit more patient, with yourself and your students. I imagine you drive them quite hard.”
Bodhidharma stared at the floor without comment.
“Brother Jaina tells me you’re renowned all over Pallava,” Prajnatara continued, “The villagers call you the warrior monk. I think they’re perhaps a little afraid of you.”
“What are they afraid of? They have nothing to fear,” Bodhidharma said indignantly.
“Of course not, but give people a chance to get to know you. Remember, not everyone is born to the Warrior Caste, as you were. Take them one small step at a time and they will make the final leap when they are ready.”
The old ferryman had been right. Prajnatara was wise and Bodhidharma felt he had been enlightened all over again.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Prajnatara smiled, “I admire your conviction, really I do. You’re not wrong when you say scriptures and rituals are not the true Way. Still, they point in the right direction. And besides, the methods themselves are not the real issue.”
“They’re not?”
“No. It’s the discipline required that is important. Even students who reach enlightenment may falter if they’re not strong. You have that strength—I saw it in you when you arrived. It’s in your blood. I knew that if you grasped the subtle beauty of The Way, you would never stray from the path, and nor have you. I did not give you the name Bodhidharma for nothing. You will be a great teacher one day.”
“When you gave me that name, I thought it was the greatest honor a man could have,” Bodhidharma said with a heavy heart. “Now it hangs around my neck like a curse.”
“It is neither a blessing nor a curse,” Prajnatara said. “It is simply your destiny. The name Bodhidharma will be known throughout the world. I have seen it in a vision, and these things cannot be ignored.”
“You are too kind, Master.”
“Nonsense,” Prajnatara waved his hand dismissively, “and besides, your disdain for the scriptures will not be an issue in China. In fact, it will be something of a blessing. I’m told there are very few translations of the Sutras into Chinese, and those that do exist are of dubious quality. Your “direct methods” as you call them will be a useful way to spread the teachings, at least at present.”
“You still want me to go to China?” Bodhidharma asked, astonished.
“Of course.”
“Even after everything I told you?”
“You are the perfect envoy,” Prajnatara said, nodding vigorously, “Trust me on this. And besides, I have already mentioned you to The Venerable Ananda and he agrees.”
