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The Blind Tibetan A short story, a past life, or simply a mystery? July 2002 This story is a work of fiction. It's contents and photographs are unrelated to any actual Tibetans, nor to actual Tibetan history.
This story takes place during a time in very Old Tibetan history when psychic, yogic, and other powers commonly referred to as siddhis were being highly experimented with. It was a time of discovery, in regards to powers. This was long ago, before the Tibetans learned to control their powers, and to use them only to help others on their spiritual paths.
There was, during this time period, a Tibetan master of high degree. He wove many spells. Some of the spells were good; some were not so good. He created some effects. Effects resulted in unprecedented uproar amongst the people.
Under the tent of religion, he used his powers. To be powerful was not what he thought it would be. Others wore him down, and he was impatient for progress.
His son was accomplished. His son was under the impression of atomic energy in spiritual form.
The master wanted to control the world for good.
His son was the one he loved. His son was the one who took things lightly. | ||||||||||||
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The son was the one who went into the forgotten realms of understanding. He loved his son because he was different. The son spoke softly.
Within the community of disciples, there was a highly structured system of hierarchy and power(s). The son didnt like it. He was on the fringe. The father wanted him to come into the powers and he said, No. | ||||||||||||
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Later, when things went awry, due to the negative karmic results from abusing these newly unleashed powers, the father wanted the son to take over his position, as master, because the son had remained aloof from the powers.
There was tremendous abuse of powers, in experimentation.
Under these circumstances, the son left the palace-like situation. It was like a monastery, but a little different.
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He stayed in the area, and lived simply. He became part of a family, which was not his own. He was looked after. He was loved. He had a simple abode.
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His eyes were his key to success. They told many things. They shone and sparkled like diamonds. People loved his eyes.
The eyes went bad. The eyes held the mysteries. The eyes closed themselves off to protect (to seal) the information they held. He had seen too much.
The son wanted to remain innocent within a world of powerful beings, who were experimenting with highly sophisticated powers.
He spoke only when spoken to, and took love to the village. Love was being lost. Love was what kept his heart open... ...thus, the name given in this life, by the master: Unique Love. | ||||||||||||
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(Photographs in this story are purely aesthic, and unrelated to the story.) copyright Anupama Deanne Kallman AHA! Stories
Tibet in Exile: International Campaign for Tibet
Teachings, Prayers and Chants: Tibetan Buddhist Internet Radio, LamRim.com
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