Monkey Temple Run

SwayumbhuThree hundred and sixty five stairs to the top. Three hundred and sixty five stairs to the painted eyes peering down, the curled swirling of the nose. Three hundred and sixty five stairs to the incense wafting, the drums beating, the bells ringing, the prayer wheels turning, the ohm ohm ohm drifting through the air.

My body is wrecked by the stresses of this city. Giardia, cyclospora, pneumonia, bacterial diarrhea and the honk honk honk of the horns, the puff puff puff of exhaust. The expectations. The guilt. They’ve torn through my body sucking the life from my bones, my muscles, my heart pumping blood to fingers and toes.

I’m bouncing back, three hundred and sixty five stairs at a time. A sharp crunch and twist in the side, and my breath huff huff huffs. Halfway up and a rhesus macaque shakes his fist. I’ve interrupted his trade of mischief and thievery, his brothers and sisters and cousins flip leap launch through the trees. Babies grasp at mother’s teats.

Halfway up three hundred and sixty five stairs. Huffing, wheezing, bent over, grasping my side. Another interruption. A strange voice, a challenging question.

“What is life?” he intones.

I’m sorry?

“What is life?” he repeats.

Ahh.. little busy dude.

“What is life?” he presses on.

Seriously? Now is not the time dude.

Questions are finished, time for proclamation.

“Life is suffering.”

You’re telling me bro.

“Life is hellfire. Life is pain. Life is suffering.”

I’m confused. Huffing, wheezing, bent over grasping my side, confused; but right now I’m inclined to agree.

 

photo credit: BJ Graf via photopin cc

 

Day in the Life || We Don't Do Great Things

Poor Servants of Jesus the Master [Nepal] We sit around a long rectangular wooden table where hospitality and friendship are served in equal measure. A nineteen year old boy, from[...]

 

Stories. [Guest Post from Beth]

Beth has lived and worked among women in Kolkata's red light areas for years. She is a dear friend - who happens to have the bragging rights of introducing Becca and me. She recent[...]

 

I am Here

It should stop me in my tracks, drop me to my knees, draw my forehead to the ground, wrench an anguished cry from my lungs, it should undo me, rend my heart, leave me weeping into [...]