had said last night. He kept his word.
It’s early when our horses’ hooves scramble through the hollow courtyard. Even the dawn hasn’t draped her orange and red hues over the fading shades of the indigo night sky yet. As for bright, well, that’s debatable.
While I took to my mat right after dinner, Karma and Dendup joined the party at the inn. By the look of Dendup, it must have been a good one. Eyes slit, shoulders slumped, hands clasping on to the pommel of his saddle, he’s a washed-out shadow of the lively, talkative Dendup I know.
With the morning chill burning the palms of my hand, I wrap my scarf tight. I haven’t heard Dendup utter his usual cheery good morning either. So much for the aftermath of chang. I spur on my horse and catch up with Karma, who is leading the way.
“You said early.” I steer my horse beside Karma’s. “But is this not overly early?” I turn, only to see Dendup’s already falling behind.
“Early’s good.” Karma pats his horse on the neck. “The horses are well rested, and we’ll reach the lake before sunrise.” His eyes focus ahead to the fading dark, and a slight smile rises in the corners of his mouth. “Don’t you worry about Dendup.” His voice carries an amusing tone by now. “He’ll pick up once we’ll reach the lake.”
With the clack of his tongue, Karma prompts his horse into a gentle canter. Without hesitation, the other horses, including mine, relax into the pace set by Karma’s horse.
Before sunrise. That’s soon. I pull the sleeves of my coat over my hands and shift back in the saddle. With only the comforting clatter of the horse's hooves to distract me, my mind turns to prayer. Om mani padme hung.
It’s not long before the wind dies down and a fiery brim appears over the snow-capped peaks of the imposing Cho La.
“Over here,” Karma leads us off the path, towards a small forest. For a few moments, it’s night again, with our horses crunching their way up through the dense, shaded woodland. The dew on the needle branches sweeps a soft, refreshing trail on my cheeks, as if it wants to wake me up for what’s coming. Ducking over the neck of my horse to avoid the last branches ahead, the forest shifts the surrounding shadows into an open space. As I raise myself again, I clench the reins and blink, for nothing could have prepared me for the magnificence hidden behind these trees.
In front of me, in all her glory, is Yilhun Lha Tso, a luminous diamond of icy deep turquoise, set in a sweeping plateau of golden sand, swaying cypress trees, and lush leas. My mouth goes dry and I freeze. My horse halts by himself at the sight of the lake. It’s simply stunning.
“Come.” Karma ties up our horses and beckons me to the shore.
As the first golden rays of morning sun caress the lake, her smooth surface reflects the cloudless sky in a spectrum of purple and mauve. Crystal crests sparkle along her waterline, mirroring the mountain glaciers whose melt feeds the lake. So clear, so calm. Her serenity sooths my soul.
Yet, a shiver runs up my spine as my eyes gauge the dark indigo in the middle of the lake. She looks so pleasant, but her unfathomable depth resonates a daunting undertow. Even the mellow morning light can’t soften it—she’s ferocious in all her magnificence.
“Now I understand our premature departure,” I say, my eyes still on the silken blue. Soon this place will be crowded with worshipping pilgrims, their well-intended clamor covering the magical quietude of this immense force of nature. A surge of gratitude flows to my lips.
“Thank you.” I turn to Karma. Though his gaze remains on the lake, he nods.
“I felt you would see her as I do.” He meets my eye. “A frightening beauty. You know what’s underneath there, don’t you?”
I follow his gaze back to the lake and frown.
“Down the lake? No, not really.” I focus on the deep indigo eye of the water, but her haunting depth hides it all.
My thoughts lead me back to the monastery, to my grandmother telling us about Yilhun Lha Tso. What was it again? For a moment, my mind’s blank, but then it hits me. “Chakramsavara.” With a triumphant smile, I turn to Karma. “Dechen told me that the mountains and rocks surrounding the lake have the divine form of the Chakramsavara mandala.” My eyes glide over the lake and its surroundings again. “Well, at least for those who have the pure vision to perceive it…”
My voice trails off as I realize I’m not recognizing any of what Dechen envisioned here. A deep blue lake, yes, but not the dazzling, radiant body of Chakramsavara as he’s depicted on the thangkas with his four faces and twelve arms. Not his ever-present consort Vajrayogini either. Nothing. I don’t see any of it.
My shoulders drop as my heart sinks to the bottom of the infinite azure. Another confirmation of what I already know and fear—I’m still far from a pure vision.
“You mean the wrathful Chakramsavara?” Karma’s eyebrows turn up, and his eyes dart over the lake again.
I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. Silly me, did I really think I could see what Dechen, an advanced practitioner, said I would?
“Oh, hell no.” Dendup’s voice croaks from behind us. “It’s worse.” His pitiful yet amusing appearance shakes me right out of my gloomy mood. A ruffled mob of hair above a crumpled chuba, tiny beads of red in an ashen face, a stumbling stride—I can’t suppress a chuckle. It looks like Dendup’s still wrestling and last night’s chang is winning.
“Worse?” Karma smiles from ear to ear as he observes our companion staggering towards us. “What could be worse than an enraged deity?”
With a sigh, Dendup leans against one of the enormous boulders on the shore. “A scorned woman, of course.” He waves his hand over the lake as he sits down on the rocks. “Everybody knows that.”
A wink and a sneaky smile in Karma’s direction follow. Dendup’s making fun. Good. Means he’s coming back to his former self again. I turn to Karma. His jaw s set, and it’s obvious he’s ignoring the last remark.
“A scorned woman.” I pause. “Interesting.” I make a deliberate point to catch Karma’s eye, but he’s pretending to study the lake again.
“Yep, it’s Dugmo, the unfaithful wife of King Gesar who’s down there.” Dendup shifts his weight to make himself comfortable. “Can’t believe you don’t know that story, sister.” He glances up at me and rubs his eyes before continuing.
“Dugmo was one of King Gesar’s wives. I think she was the first one even.” His hands rummage through his chuba and draw out a small bottle. “She went off with another fellow for a while—maybe for one night, I don’t know exactly, but King Gesar was not pleased, as you can understand.” He unscrews the top and puts the bottle on his lips. His face relaxes as the liquor hits his palate. “Gesar banned her from his palace.” He wipes his mouth and gives me a meaningful glance from under his furry eyebrows.
The color is coming back to his drained face.
“So Dugmo travelled all alone, came to this lake, and fell in love with it.” He points his head to towards the water and closes his eyes for a moment. “So much so that she couldn’t leave this beautiful landscape anymore. She sunk herself beneath the lake to stay forever and a day.” He rubs his eyes again.
A contagious grin comes to Dendup’s face as he ends his tale. “Hence the holy lake of the fallen soul, for a fallen woman she was.” He screws the top back on the bottle and puts it away with a rumble.
“You’re quite the storyteller, Dendup,” I say. “A fallen woman at the bottom of a holy lake.” I sit beside him, my arms pulled around my knees.
“And not just any fallen woman,” Dendup says. “A fallen queen.” He glances over my shoulder at the lake. “Now, you would think that tale deserves me a fresh cup of tea, wouldn’t you?”
His breath reeks of stale booze, but he’s my elder. How can I refuse?
“Sure.” I jump up, but before I get the chance to gather some loose twigs, Karma stops me.
“Nordun, no.” He shakes his head, his voice soft. “You go ahead. The rest of the pilgrims will be here soon.” A twinge shoots up my arm as his fingertips stroke my hand. “We’ll stay here.” He looks over at Dendup. “And have a good rest.” Dendup grimaces, his head between his hands.
“From here, we can see most of the lake.” Karma takes my hands in his. “You’ll be safe.” And with a little squeeze, he lets go, urging me to the shore. “Go.”
An inviting breeze rustles from the deep blue, carrying the sweet scent of morrow. Karma’s right. I turn my face towards the mauve-streaked sky. Soon a golden warmth will shred the pallid veil of dawn.
My fingers wrap themselves around my prayer beads and the hallow words flow from my lips. Om mani padme hung.
Slowly, I start walking. My sandals sink in the silty shoreline. A surge of gratitude lifts my heart. How fortunate to be here, right now.
How fortunate I am, indeed.