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All-Knowing Sage Of Himalaya
Sire Acton, I have received your letter and acknowledge the reason behind your scepticism. In your request, I will relate more details about my strange encounter with a Hindoo saint in Hinalayan mountains. As you already know from my previous correspondence, I had been travelling in himalayas for quite a while. I stayed with the native to understand their culture in relation to our own. The Buddhists living in Tibetan plateau warned me to not go beyond because their could be wild creatures or even a monster they call “Yeti”. But I travelled through this region with my men. I was pretty sure our riffles could protect us from any danger. However, I had not realised at the time that a storm would seperated us. I found a cave after wandering alone for a while; it was quite warm inside. As many men would do in this situation, I was constantly praying to God for refuge. I did not realise it until morning that there was already a man living in there. He was sitting on, what I believe is, a stone slab and wearing a thin scarlet robe in the cold; yet it did not seem to affect him at all. From the appearance of his beard and hair, he looked like a thousand year old man. His body was thin as well, from lack of food, it seemed. What I find odd is that this Indian sage was not angry at all by my presence. I have heard many tales during my stay in India, how just passing by a meditating sage would anger him and he would cast a curse on the intruder. However, he did not look particularly happy either.
The sage came near me and asked about me, my origin, my country etc. I was very cautious in my responses to him. He, then, told me about "enlightenment". He was not a Buddhist, I am sure. It seemed, he was a follower of Shaivism, that is, worshipper of Lord Shiva. He told me about his discovery of a very special Shiva lingam in the cave; it was emiting a strange blue aura. I have observed it with mine own eyes; It is unlike any Shiva Linga in India and probably the most ancient of them all. This blue pillar came out of the floor. So, I assume there must be more structure and mechanism beneath it that makes the strange glow. It would be wonderful if my fellow British men send an expedition there in search of its origins which do no seem Indian.

As for the sage, he told me that after he had began to worship his god in there, a strange energy had filled him within. A few more days later, he had began seeing strange dreams and visions; he could suddenly recognise places where he had never been to and people who he had never seen. He told me about his grandmother, who had died before his birth, that “I always imagined her to look like my aunt but older. Suddenly, I realised, no, she was more beautiful." He claimed that his grandmother's image as well as the image of his other ancestors became more clear as the days passed by. But one peculiar thing that he mentioned was that, he could not see through his grandparents' perspective after his father's birth.

It was after this point that he told me an even stranger thing. I do not know in certain if you will believe it or any fellow Englishman will believe it. He began by saying, "We're all connected through our blood. The more I look into the past, the more I see the interconnectedness of our race. The seperation is all a maya!"

But what followed is even more intriguing. When I asked him about what he meant by “interconnectedness” and “seperation,” he responded, “As I observe the knowledge of my ancestors, their journey, pain and grief, I see how we are connected to nature.”
“How?” I asked
“It is through blood. Many yugas ago, my forefather was a little shrew. He was not only my forefather but of many creatures as well”
“H-how do you know?”
“If what I have been shown is truth, that my forefathers were strange monkeys whose forefathers were strange shrews, living among giant beasts, then I must conclude that they are ancestors of other creatures too.”
We know how Darwin first proposed the survival of the fittest and the theory of evolution; but hearing it from an Indian hermit who spent most of his time in a cave in Himalayas, is very bizzare.

I dared to ask him if he had ever encountered a British person before. I wanted to be sure he was not lying to me. But he replied, “What is british? Are they related to Britons?” It made me flabbergasted.
“Have you read Roman or Greek literature before?” I asked.
“My ancestors who lived in a Farsi city, read the works of Rumi people. Are they the Romans you speak of? Oh, I remember, they lived in a place called Madhyabhuvana-Sagara”
I was silent for a while, thinking within my self what to make of it. Then I noticed tears in the saint's eyes. “Are you alright, holy saint?” I asked.
“They took him away...”
“Who? What did they take away?”
“It's my ancestor; they took away her baby. I can feel the grief...”
“Do you know where it was?”
“It was a country called Patmos. She was playing in the beach when the pirates took her away.”
If the saint could indeed feel the grief of his ancestors and had seen their memories, so I reasoned, he was an invaluable source for history of humanity. Curiously, I asked him what is the memory of his earliest ancestor. To which, he replied, “Darkness, just darkness, and a sensation... I can feel being seperated from something but it is very vague. I only recall swimming through darkness in search for nutrition— it stayed like this for many mahayugas.”
Suddenly, the sage wrapped his hands around head and began saying, “So many sins, so many deaths, so much grief! Lord Shiva, Mother, take me to you!”
I shivered. We can never guess how much grief he must have felt. He must have seen numerous murders, deaths of many loved ones, injuries, and injustice happening for millions of years. Any man would get mad if he has to feel the sufferings of a million other people. The sage acted madly, throwing himself on the ground, and crying the names of gods. “Get out, man!” he told me and vanished into the cave. He might have felt my crew coming near. I shared this tale with them but they seem to think I dreamt it up. It is up to you, sire Acton, whether to believe it or not. I have written what I have experienced during my stay in Tibet.

[THE END]

© Ayan Kumar Sarkar