I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider
etc.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
===================================== Tomb Raider: The Sadhana by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =====================================
Chapter Eight
An hour later, brother Songsten lead me to the village, told me not to worry about my backpack - it would be brought to the village in a day or two. He literally fed me - I was nursing a fever, my signature sign of extreme exhaustion. He let me choose if I wanted to sleep in the monastery or accommodate in his mother's house. I chose her mother's house - despite my experiences I had had enough of spiritualism for awhile.
I fell asleep the minute my back touched the bed made for me. I slept for twenty-two hours nonstop, and then woke up, hungry enough to eat a half yak. Brother Songsten's mother was an old, loving woman. She told me, translated by his son, that I could stay as long as I wanted to.
The local missionary was in a nearby village that week, and the next week he would drive to Nyoktse, where a plane would take him to Lhasa. I could travel with him, and catch a plane from Lhasa to Kathmandu.
I stayed in the village the whole week, even visited Milarepa's cave a couple of times. For the monks' delight, I evaluated the age of a couple of their rugs and tapestries. They all spoke English - most of them had spent some time studying in China, Laos or India and learnt the language there. Many people would say I had walked eight hundred miles and nearly died in vain.
The previous months I had walked a millions miles, it seemed, and nearly died for the world.
This time, if I had died, I would've died for myself. And that is a feeling I needed to find. A certain level of selfishness. Clarity of thoughts. After that I could easily return to England, practice with my pistols, train on my assault course, unwrap a pile of maps and choose where to go next.
A new beginning. In archaeology? Perhaps. In something else? Who knows.
I have always been a rational thinker, but after being told a story about me being sent by Buddha to help a bunch of monks find a holy cave, I had to shake off some of my beliefs in logic. The monks really seemed to believe in the story.
I have a friend who teaches theoretical physics in the University of West London. I once asked him, at a dinner party; "Where is God?" I admit being a little tipsy, and not too serious about it. But he did give me an answer. He told me a story.
Einstein's theory of relativity - which I personally understand nothing of - approves time travel. It's a difficult thing to explain, but it does. But the thing itself evokes some difficulties. There is a famous paradox about a man who had killed his wife, stabbed her with a knife. He was imprisoned for twenty years. He spent the whole time building a time machine and succeeded. When he was released, he used the time machine to travel back to the moment of his wife's death. He shot his young self before the young version managed to kill the wife. The question is, what happened? My friend said that some scientists, including himself, liked to think that there is a universal law that prevents things that are illogical, from happening. Somehow. A law of nature, like gravity, that keeps a balance between good and evil, and keeps things simple enough for us to understand by using science as a tool. And that law, he believed, was God.
I was somehow touched by this story. It combined science and religion in a strange way. I've never been very religious, but time to time I ask myself, what it this thing we call religion? Is it just a hunch that there is something beyond our experiences in this world?
Perhaps there is a law. A universal justice that had saved me in 1989.
I was ready to go back to doing what I do best - recovering and protecting the archaeological treasures of the world.
I was ready to go home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sender: jy_ducarmine@paris.edu To: l_croft@britishmuseum.edu.uk Subject: Re: just a quick note
Lara -
I knew it was only a matter fo time before I
received an email like this. I hope all is well.
Welcome back,
Jean
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Notes from the journey:
There are three books this story is largely indebted to: "TIBET - Life, Myth And Art" by Michael Willis "FOOTPRINT GUIDES - Tibet" by Gyurme Dorje "Konungariken i Himalaya" by Michel Peissel
There are some historical, religious and geographical mistakes in this story. Most of them are intentional ;=) Some changes had to be made in facts and physics in order to make this work.
There are two wonderful persons whom I am in eternal gratitude:
Tim Radley - one the greatest writers I've ever come across. A great helper, editor, and friend in TR paraphernalia.
Jeppe Cleve - who never fails to make me laugh. Good luck with your script. It will be just incredible.
Thank you, Heidi siirma6@surfeu.fi
Ps. Please keep in mind that feedback is what most effectively feed sthe creative flame. If you enjoyed this piece, if you didn't - drop me a note.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
===================================== Tomb Raider: The Sadhana by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =====================================
Chapter Eight
An hour later, brother Songsten lead me to the village, told me not to worry about my backpack - it would be brought to the village in a day or two. He literally fed me - I was nursing a fever, my signature sign of extreme exhaustion. He let me choose if I wanted to sleep in the monastery or accommodate in his mother's house. I chose her mother's house - despite my experiences I had had enough of spiritualism for awhile.
I fell asleep the minute my back touched the bed made for me. I slept for twenty-two hours nonstop, and then woke up, hungry enough to eat a half yak. Brother Songsten's mother was an old, loving woman. She told me, translated by his son, that I could stay as long as I wanted to.
The local missionary was in a nearby village that week, and the next week he would drive to Nyoktse, where a plane would take him to Lhasa. I could travel with him, and catch a plane from Lhasa to Kathmandu.
I stayed in the village the whole week, even visited Milarepa's cave a couple of times. For the monks' delight, I evaluated the age of a couple of their rugs and tapestries. They all spoke English - most of them had spent some time studying in China, Laos or India and learnt the language there. Many people would say I had walked eight hundred miles and nearly died in vain.
The previous months I had walked a millions miles, it seemed, and nearly died for the world.
This time, if I had died, I would've died for myself. And that is a feeling I needed to find. A certain level of selfishness. Clarity of thoughts. After that I could easily return to England, practice with my pistols, train on my assault course, unwrap a pile of maps and choose where to go next.
A new beginning. In archaeology? Perhaps. In something else? Who knows.
I have always been a rational thinker, but after being told a story about me being sent by Buddha to help a bunch of monks find a holy cave, I had to shake off some of my beliefs in logic. The monks really seemed to believe in the story.
I have a friend who teaches theoretical physics in the University of West London. I once asked him, at a dinner party; "Where is God?" I admit being a little tipsy, and not too serious about it. But he did give me an answer. He told me a story.
Einstein's theory of relativity - which I personally understand nothing of - approves time travel. It's a difficult thing to explain, but it does. But the thing itself evokes some difficulties. There is a famous paradox about a man who had killed his wife, stabbed her with a knife. He was imprisoned for twenty years. He spent the whole time building a time machine and succeeded. When he was released, he used the time machine to travel back to the moment of his wife's death. He shot his young self before the young version managed to kill the wife. The question is, what happened? My friend said that some scientists, including himself, liked to think that there is a universal law that prevents things that are illogical, from happening. Somehow. A law of nature, like gravity, that keeps a balance between good and evil, and keeps things simple enough for us to understand by using science as a tool. And that law, he believed, was God.
I was somehow touched by this story. It combined science and religion in a strange way. I've never been very religious, but time to time I ask myself, what it this thing we call religion? Is it just a hunch that there is something beyond our experiences in this world?
Perhaps there is a law. A universal justice that had saved me in 1989.
I was ready to go back to doing what I do best - recovering and protecting the archaeological treasures of the world.
I was ready to go home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sender: jy_ducarmine@paris.edu To: l_croft@britishmuseum.edu.uk Subject: Re: just a quick note
Lara -
I knew it was only a matter fo time before I
received an email like this. I hope all is well.
Welcome back,
Jean
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Notes from the journey:
There are three books this story is largely indebted to: "TIBET - Life, Myth And Art" by Michael Willis "FOOTPRINT GUIDES - Tibet" by Gyurme Dorje "Konungariken i Himalaya" by Michel Peissel
There are some historical, religious and geographical mistakes in this story. Most of them are intentional ;=) Some changes had to be made in facts and physics in order to make this work.
There are two wonderful persons whom I am in eternal gratitude:
Tim Radley - one the greatest writers I've ever come across. A great helper, editor, and friend in TR paraphernalia.
Jeppe Cleve - who never fails to make me laugh. Good luck with your script. It will be just incredible.
Thank you, Heidi siirma6@surfeu.fi
Ps. Please keep in mind that feedback is what most effectively feed sthe creative flame. If you enjoyed this piece, if you didn't - drop me a note.