Tryst with a book

Old Path White Clouds

People wiser have taught us how it is the book that decides how and when it will interact with us and not the other way round. Old Path White Clouds underscored this dictum yet again for me. It is 7 months now that we had purchased the book (from, of course, our favourite book store). Since, it sat (needless to add, peacefully) on the rack - an arm's length from where we sit and chat at the end of each day.

 

Reading Old Path White Clouds accompanied by the vacation sounds (read quality silences) on the campus has been special. I had enjoyed, on similar lines, my time with the two books I had read during the previous vacation - Learning from silence and Sachha Sur.  Like I did with the previous two books, with this book too, I went slow and after every few pages or so I took a break to absorb what I had read. The mahaul around only helped - the silences outside gelling aptly with the inner silences, peace, and calm these books talk about. 

I read this book after having had an introduction (of sorts) to Buddhism during the recent years. Be it the long silent walks to and (short and direct) conversations at the monasteries in Kalimpong, Darjeeling and Bir, or the languorous trips to Bodh Gaya and Nalanda which helped me visualise these places when I came across them in the book, or Tushita (Dharamkot) where I got to know about the Thich Nhat Hanh. Sarnath (of course!) is close to me - during my time at Banaras I have been there many a time. Reading this book helped revisit some of the conversations, moments with self, and connect some of the dots from over these years.

Looking back, I am glad that the book chose a good time and that I too did not rush. Reading it at this juncture was special, more meaningful perhaps than if I would have read it at another time. 

Many a time it helps to wait, to trust, to just be.