79 Companions in the Forest
There are many rhesus monkeys in these hills and they turned out to be our constant and most easily visible companions in this forest – and by far the most quarrelsome too. There are, as far as I can see, two family groups numbering about twenty each who dwell in and around this part of the woods. One of the groups rests for the night in the mango grove beyond the road that leads into the monastery. As this is my work area I often see them as they wake in the morning. It sometimes seems that as soon as they get up they start fighting, and these squabbles, which may start out as only verbal challenges and self-assertion often have very violent endings with some poor fellow being thrown clean out of the tree. It is common to see one of them scurrying across the road on three legs, the fourth held up bruised or raw and exposed where the fur has been ripped off in the tumble.
One day I was resting in my hermitage after lunch when I heard a number of people going past rather noisily, bouncing on the steps and throwing stones down the hill – at least that’s what it sounded like. I got up and decided to investigate, and upon opening the door I found myself confronted by a score of staring red faces – not that the monkeys were the least bit embarrassed, they were simply curious. When their curiosity waned they returned to upturning the stones and rocks on the slope overlooking my kutir, searching for ants and other edibles. A some of the rocks were quite large, and were starting to clutter up my walking meditation path I thought it best to shoo them away into another part of the forest.
On another day I was walking back thoughtfully after the group meditation sitting in the hall when I came across one of the families foraging. I was going uphill and hadn’t seen them, then at the last moment one of their number shrieked and ran off and I came to a halt. On a sapling no more than a couple of feet from me was a youngster scratching away at his head. Our eyes met and we looked at each other for a good few minutes. He was so new into the world, and, strange to say, I saw such innocence in his eyes that I was quite moved. After a while he lost interest in me and climbed up the tree and passed into another and continued his search for food.
The other companions we have here in this forest could not be more opposite to the gregarious, noisy, and highly visible monkeys. Indeed for a long time I didn’t even know they were here, though I’d heard something scurrying off as I went along the paths, and I must say I became familiar with their voice long before ever I saw one. When I first heard them barking I wondered what it could be, it sounded like it must be of quite a size – bigger than a Great Dane I thought, but then I couldn’t think of any wild dog that was that big.
Later the riddle was solved when I caught sight of a South Indian Muntjac, or barking deer, as it leapt away through the undergrowth. Surprisingly given the sound of the bark, they are not at all large, maybe about the size of an Alsatian, though perhaps a little stouter. They are very sensitive and solitary creatures and even after I learned of their presence and wanted to see more of them, I rarely got to see anything other than their white bob-tail as they made their way off into the woods. I did however get a good view one day when one burst out from behind a tree after being startled by I know not what; I came to a halt on hearing the rumpus, and the deer wandered around nearby unconcerned for a while grazing on the grass without noticing me until a slight movement gave me away and he bounded off once more to find a place of quietness and seclusion where he might pass the day undisturbed.
In this forest where I now walk
are many sounds, but not of talk;
the sounds around indeed I find
do not disturb the tranquil mind.
The birds do call, the deer do bark,
and to it all I can but hark,
and lift my heart in thanks and praise
that I did live to see these days.
This blessed place, this blessed time,
I celebrate in this my rhyme,
and overall thanks for my birth,
and that I saw this blessed earth.
If others weep, if they do cry,
because at last they have to die,
I lift my voice and call for trust,
that when it is you go to dust,
if you lived right you need not fear,
whatever comes shed not a tear,
for life itself I think you’ll find
is quite enough if you are kind;
if you have joy, if you have love,
you will not look for more above,
but in this life whate’er you do
it will be sure, it will be true,
and every time you go for walk
you’ll listen close, you will not talk,
and what you’ll hear from each tall tree
you’ll know as part of life’s symphony.