BECOMING SUPRA

Chapter 1.3

RAË

When Tuesday came around, I found myself re-reading the details provided for the extracurricular course. Very little was mentioned about the teacher Mr. Bose. Just a map that gave directions on how to get to a place called 'Anahata'.

Where can the science of vibration take me?

Something shifted inside, as subtle as the mid-flight yawing of a bird - nudging me to break course. I rested my barefoot on the cold of the ground. And a decision was made.

I took a shortcut up a steep lane near the Botanical Gardens by the lake, then down a dirt road hidden by the shoals. I crossed the colonial cottages peeking over the ivy'd walls, then past the abandoned graveyard and it's cold silence. Deeper I went unto a deserted path ... not a soul to be seen.

Stopping under a tree littered with cacti-flowers beneath, I bent down to pick one. When I heard sharp footsteps crackling behind me. I turned on my haunches. It was the boy I had wagers on. Walking through diagonal bars of dappled light, setting dust particles into a tizzy. He was close behind but I only heard him once my own footsteps had stilled. By the time I straightened, he had caught up with me.

"Going to the vibration class?" he asked.

"Yes." I extended my hand to shake his. "I'm Raë."

"I'm Æsh," he said, shaking my hand firmly.

We were bracketed for a brief moment by silence then the language of the forest came wafting in: birds twittering, flycatchers fluttering, black langurs hooting in the distance.

"What are those white flowers? There ... those bell-shaped ones." He was pointing at the drooping flowers, growing in abundance. "They're all over the place."

"That's the Salvia Datura plant," I said.

"Salvia Datura? The hallucinogen?"

"Yes. Also known as the Devil's Trumpet. Extraordinarily hallucinogenic. No one touches them. Not even the villagers. Even the cows know better, they graze around, but never consume it. I think the only thing that feeds on it without death by poison, are cutworms."

"Poison? It was known as the nectar of the gods. I've heard it's a perfect escape."

"Escape? Using Salvia? Not a smart thing to do. You can go insane."

"Insane," he scoffed.

"Yeah. I know this gypsy who said his friend ingested a concoction of the flowers and went hysterically blind, for days."

"Hysterical blindness is not insanity."

"It sure can lead to insanity. Imagine eating a flower and turning blind. I'd go insane. Wouldn't you?"

"The very definition of insanity is debatable," he said.

"It's a person who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality."

"Exactly. Who defines what is fantasy and what is reality?"

"You do," I said, stating the obvious. "If it feels insane. It is insane."

My eyes snagged on his lips, a thick scar was running down to his chin. He saw me reading it and immediately clamped down, looking away. Then he was lost in thought, as though sleighing down the memory of his wound.

Silence ensued. The language of the forest came in at us again.

The map led us to a derelict cottage engulfed in weeds. The 'Halcyon' wooden plank eaten in parts by wood mites.

"Halcyon is the oldest remaining cottage," I said, turning to face a narrow path, its innards were like a moist web of vines and creepers tunnelling towards a distant dot. "I've never gone beyond it."

Æsh moved forward. Fallen trees blocked our way. We straddled the trunks and tossed our legs over. A short walk later, we saw a sleek wooden gate, a sign that read Anahata, with the image of two parallel lines and a jagged vibration between it. Drawn in by the edifice, I entered its gates. We were confronted by a tall structure, art-nouveau in design, made entirely of glass and edged with wood that curved and twisted like elements of nature.

"Slick!" I was awestruck.

The walls of glass were spaced and stacked, curving like the arc of a dinosaur's back. The domed crests reached as high as the tree line. I couldn't tell where design ended and nature began, vines latched onto the walls with gecko-like suction. Swaying trees reflected on and through the glass edifice. Art-nouveau merging seamlessly with the soft rustle of nature.

Moving to the side, we trailed the belly of the beast when the sound of gurgling water pulled us in its direction to the banks of a jade-green stream. A dark forest stood in front of us.

"This forest looks ... primeval," said Æsh, taking in the details of the feathered moss that hung like mint curtains and bursts of orchids that lunged from high branches.

"The western ghats are older than the Himalayas. Formed over a hundred million years ago when East Gondwana broke away from Madagascar and collided into Eurasia. This is the original forest you're looking at."

His eyes were searching the under-bush - a tangle of serrated leaves large enough to shelter predator and prey, both.

"Back in the day, people used bullock carts and palanquins as modes of transport up this mountain-range; travelers were in constant fear of being attacked by bears and leopards."

"Bears and leopards?"

"Yes, there is a place called Bear Shola at the start of Observatory road. That was their hood before humans encroached their land and pushed them out. Now there are none left."

"And the leopards?"

"We haven't had a sighting in a while."

Æsh was looking at the ground beneath, shifting the weight of his body from foot to foot. He bent down and unlaced his shoes then removed his socks. With his bare feet he stepped onto the cold soil. He involuntarily clenched his toes, dark moisture escape from the peaty earth.

He was at ease with the stain of nature.

"What made you join a boarding school in your senior year?" I asked.

"I wanted a change from Europe," he said, as though in practiced ease.

"Why this town?"

"I wanted to be closer to my grandmother."

"Where does she live?"

"In Bali."

"Bali is not close."

"It's closer than Europe."

Then he bent down to wash his feet before dressing them with his socks and shoes.

"Are ... you a mix ... a genetic cocktail?"

"Yes," he said, tying his laces.

"1/4th?"

"1/6th."

"Are you biased to any particular race or religion?" I asked.

"I couldn't, even if I tried."

"Once you start mixing DNA, you stand allegiance to no one particular but to the entire human race. I'm 1/6th myself."

Æsh eyed me for a brief moment, then turned and walked away, putting an abrupt end to further interrogation.

He walked back to the glass structure. I was as inquisitive to inspect the dinosaur shaped wave and so followed him to it. I bent in close, cupping my eyes for better sight. Some of the glass-fronted rooms were dressed as bedrooms, some had equipment and wires and some stood empty like aquariums of light.

Sounds of laughter broke our architectural engagement. We followed the voices to find a small congregation of students.

Advait Bose, was at the helm of the gathering, he turned to find us approaching him.

Smiling he said, "Wonderful ... two more students."

He moved in to shake our hands and said, "Welcome."