Sunday morning dawns faster han any other mornings for it's the only day I get to feel like human. I mean it's my day off and only on this day I meet my roommate, the only companion I've in this place so far away from home. I darted out of the train and reached our closet- sized room just in time to see my roommate nearing the end of her morning prayer. She smiled at me muttering the prayers to JETSUN DROELMA.Sheepishly I entered the room. I could never memorize any prayer in my life no matter how motivated I felt.
The only solace I can seek is the BAZA GURU chanting which drops out of my lips whenever I am scared of the invisible ghosts or whenever I hear of some terrible mishaps. When people ask me about my religion, I say," I'm a Buddhist!"
Few weeks ago, there was a WANG which I attended with my room mate. As is the custom, there was a wang lung before the actual wang,I sat religiously positioned, my eyes looking solemn. As the Rinpoche delivered the luung in English for the benefit of all gathered, a man sitting beside me began with a friendly smile. He was a Pakistani who knew so very little about Buddhism but was all keen to make me his teacher, bombarding me with question after every pause Rinpoche took. I narrated whatever little I knew of Guru Rinpoche from my history class and beamed proudly at myself for being able to answer the queries of this muslim man sitting beside me.
But embarrasment took a first step as Rinpoche delved deeper into the crux of the luung.I fumbled,"you see, we don't really learn this deep in our school." The man understood that my knowledge about my religion had reached the dead end so he ended the conversation with the same smile he had given to me at the beginning of our conversation.
"I went to a synagogue," I announced as soon as my room mate was done with her prayer. "When?" I saw disdain in her lone query. "On friday, I went with my hosts for their Sabbath." I told her about the people who were there and the pizza,coke and lots of stuff for kids that were on display. She looked at me as if accusing me of being led to that place with the aroma of pepperoni pizza and not my interest of actually being in a synagogue.
I changed the topic lest she start her lecture on being a true Buddhist. Just few weeks ago I had suggested going into the church near our room just to see what it looks like and she rained words that made me feel like a failed Buddhist. I had to silently slip away on my own to embark on my quest for this other religion's place. The cross didn't warn me of crucifying me for being a Buddhist but entering their church. Infact, back in 2007, in Kyoto, When I bowed my head in silence and clapped thrice before coming out from a SHINTO temple, I didn't feel I had betrayed Guru Rinpoche in any way.Rather, although away from home, saying that silent prayer even if it wasn't a Buddhist temple gave me a peace I required at that time.
But having to face my room mate's interrogation whenever I pick the topic of other religion has me disturbed. Do I become a less of a faithful Buddhist merely because my zest to explore the other side of the fence is stronger than my room mate's. Am I less religious than she is just because I can't chant prayers like she does? It sometimes make me feel less of a good human when confronted with my knowledge of prayers and different kinds of rimdros.
But all the while, I try to keep my heart freed from all malice and make generous contribution for any religious activities. I may not chant prayers but I maintain a good heart( at least I would like to think so) and I feel I justify my being a Buddhist simply by being less of a sinner than more of a saint. However, I know this will be another round for a debate if I broach this in front of my room mate, who is snoring in oblivion of what I am typing (against her?) just now.
The only solace I can seek is the BAZA GURU chanting which drops out of my lips whenever I am scared of the invisible ghosts or whenever I hear of some terrible mishaps. When people ask me about my religion, I say," I'm a Buddhist!"
Few weeks ago, there was a WANG which I attended with my room mate. As is the custom, there was a wang lung before the actual wang,I sat religiously positioned, my eyes looking solemn. As the Rinpoche delivered the luung in English for the benefit of all gathered, a man sitting beside me began with a friendly smile. He was a Pakistani who knew so very little about Buddhism but was all keen to make me his teacher, bombarding me with question after every pause Rinpoche took. I narrated whatever little I knew of Guru Rinpoche from my history class and beamed proudly at myself for being able to answer the queries of this muslim man sitting beside me.
But embarrasment took a first step as Rinpoche delved deeper into the crux of the luung.I fumbled,"you see, we don't really learn this deep in our school." The man understood that my knowledge about my religion had reached the dead end so he ended the conversation with the same smile he had given to me at the beginning of our conversation.
"I went to a synagogue," I announced as soon as my room mate was done with her prayer. "When?" I saw disdain in her lone query. "On friday, I went with my hosts for their Sabbath." I told her about the people who were there and the pizza,coke and lots of stuff for kids that were on display. She looked at me as if accusing me of being led to that place with the aroma of pepperoni pizza and not my interest of actually being in a synagogue.
I changed the topic lest she start her lecture on being a true Buddhist. Just few weeks ago I had suggested going into the church near our room just to see what it looks like and she rained words that made me feel like a failed Buddhist. I had to silently slip away on my own to embark on my quest for this other religion's place. The cross didn't warn me of crucifying me for being a Buddhist but entering their church. Infact, back in 2007, in Kyoto, When I bowed my head in silence and clapped thrice before coming out from a SHINTO temple, I didn't feel I had betrayed Guru Rinpoche in any way.Rather, although away from home, saying that silent prayer even if it wasn't a Buddhist temple gave me a peace I required at that time.
But having to face my room mate's interrogation whenever I pick the topic of other religion has me disturbed. Do I become a less of a faithful Buddhist merely because my zest to explore the other side of the fence is stronger than my room mate's. Am I less religious than she is just because I can't chant prayers like she does? It sometimes make me feel less of a good human when confronted with my knowledge of prayers and different kinds of rimdros.
But all the while, I try to keep my heart freed from all malice and make generous contribution for any religious activities. I may not chant prayers but I maintain a good heart( at least I would like to think so) and I feel I justify my being a Buddhist simply by being less of a sinner than more of a saint. However, I know this will be another round for a debate if I broach this in front of my room mate, who is snoring in oblivion of what I am typing (against her?) just now.
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