The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes - Jamyang Norbu [80]
'... and to make swords fly through the air as well,' said Holmes dryly.
'The power of the mind is pure energy and thus essentially neutral — neither good nor bad. Therefore, before we permit any novice to undertake such occult training, we instil in him, through study and reflection, a true altruistic motive in his quest for such powers. Only rarely has this motivational training ever failed.'
'But it did in the case of the Dark One,' said Holmes.
'Unfortunately, yes.'
Sherlock Holmes drew on his pipe and gazed reflectively into the distance for a minute or two, before turning to us again. 'If we are to suppose that our mysterious friend in the palanquin tonight is the same "Dark One" who murdered the twelfth Grand Lama, then the theft of the painted scroll begins to take on a more sinister significance.' Holmes looked at the Lama Yonten gravely. 'You must be wrong, Reverend Sir. There must be something unusual about that particular scroll.'
'Maybe the painting was stolen in order to somehow disrupt the Grand Lama's proposed retreat at the temple,' said I venturing a new hypothesis. 'Does he, perchance, need the mandala painting for his meditations there?'
'Yes, he does, Babuji.' the Lama Yonten answered. 'But it is not necessary for it to be the same one. Any faithful copy of it will do. The mandala simply serves as a plan for the meditator to guide his psychic energies in the correct channels during his meditations. Why, at the Ice Temple itself there is a large stone mandala — a three dimensional one — of the tantra of the Wheel of Time. That would be more than sufficient for His Holiness's visualisation practices.'
'Then it only stands to reason that there must be something very special about the one that was stolen tonight.' said Sherlock Holmes testily.
'There is, Sir.'
The young lad whom we had observed the previous day playing with the animals in the menagerie now stood small and alone in the corridor. He was wrapped in a thick maroon cloak like the one Lama Yonten had on. The Lama Yonten and Tsering rose hastily to their feet. Mr Holmes and I followed suit.
'Your Holiness, you should be in bed,' said the Lama Yonten anxiously.
'But how can I sleep with so much going on? Anyway I wanted to see the foreigners.' He came over and stared at us with much curiosity, but also friendliness.
'You are from the Noble Land (Arya-varta or India)?' he enquired of me politely in a high boyish voice.
'Yes, Your Holiness. I come from the province of Vangala (Bengal) where the great sage Atisha2 was born.'
'I hope one day to make a pilgrimage to all the holy places in the Noble Land — when all the present problems are settled.' He then turned to Sherlock Holmes and bowed his head once. 'I wish to thank you, Honourable Sir, for saving my life tonight. The Lama Yonten told me earlier that were it not for your vigilance and courage an assassin might possibly have ... harmed me.' He appeared a little troubled at this realisation, but then his boyish nature reasserted itself and he was all curiosity and questions again.
'But you do not look like a foreigner.'
'I am supposed to be in disguise as a Ladakhi,' said Holmes with a smile.
'You had better pretend to be half Kazakh then. That would explain the pale cast of your eyes.'
'Your Holiness is very observant,' said Holmes. 'Maybe that is why you saw something special about that stolen thangka.'
'It has been hanging in the chapel ever since I can remember, and I never took any particular notice of it. But one day a monkey from the garden managed to enter the chapel and, besides breaking a few things, knocked the painting off the wall. After I had chased the animal out, I was picking up the scroll to restore it to its hook when I noticed some writing on the back.'
'Writing?' enquired Holmes, a hint of excitement in his voice. 'What exactly was on