Sensei of Shambala by Anastasia Novykh (10 ebook reader .TXT) 📖

in finding a good spiritual guide. Either I was not satisfied with their answers, or they were not satisfied with my questions. During our constant disputes we, as they say, beat the air, milled the wind, spending our time in vain. But the things you say… I simply catch myself on the thought that I can not argue with you because it coincides with my internal conception of the world. It would be an honor for me to have such a Teacher if, of course, the Teacher considers it worthy to have such a disciple.”
“I would advise you to search for a teacher neither in me nor in anybody else. It is not because you are an unworthy disciple but because you yourself have much more of it. I see a spark in you. I would advise you to study everything yourself. Study sacred books of various religions and make for yourself a collective image of such ideas: who God is, what truth, belief, and miracles are and so on. Because if there were only one unique holy religion then all other people could not be saved and there would be no other miracles. But miracles of belief happen in other religions too. Moreover, if you have an opportunity, study psychology, biology, anatomy, morphology. It is also necessary to study astronomy, quantum physics, chemistry… In general, broaden your knowledge in the field of exact sciences as much as you can. I am sure that you will begin to understand what I want to tell you. Now you simply feel it, but then you will begin to understand. When you begin to understand it, you begin to understand God. And the best Teacher is God.”
That evening we got home on the last tram. It was already late, after midnight, but I simply could not fall asleep as I was completely shocked at this conversation with Sensei. My diary, as my best friend and silent interlocutor, took all the outpouring of my soul. Our dialogue of thoughts and writing continued until the morning. Only when the sun rose in the sky and the world began to wake up slightly, only then did the bed, which had been missing me for a long time, embrace my body with its soft coverlets. Thank God it was Sunday, that is, a national day off.

41

Time flew by quickly. The stressful time of final examinations began. People were a clot of nerves and sweat. Strange enough, but during this last year of my school life, I began to take this intense process more easily. After everything I had experienced, examinations seemed to be only an ordinary check of my knowledge but not a hard trial of destiny as many of my schoolmates considered them to be. When all this was over, when at last the long-awaited graduation party came, for a long time I still could not believe that my life goes on and that all this is not a dream.
Meeting at dawn with all our classmates in a picturesque place in the country, we started talking about professions we were going to choose. Many dreamt of becoming doctors, lawyers, economists, and businessmen. And when I was asked about it, I sincerely answered, “I want to become human.”
Of course, my classmates did not understand the sense of these words to the fullest extent, but many of them became more serious and thoughtful. Indeed, we stood at the beginning of our independent way of life, at the moment of our personal choice for our destiny. It was still up in the air how our destiny would change our lives. Looking closely at the destinies of different people who have already lived already the greater part of their lives, it is possible to see that the net of their vital roads and footpaths sooner or later merge into one road, that is, an attempt to become human. For, as Sensei once said, it’s the true sense of our lives.

42

Because of a graduation party, unfortunately I had to miss a spiritual training. The next day, I phoned Tatyana, and she told me some very pleasant news. It appeared that Sensei was planning a week-long holiday, and the guys persuaded him to travel to the seaside with them. Even Nikolai Andreevich decided to use his days off from work, which he was saving for such a rare occasion of a round-the-clock dialogue with Sensei.
“I said that you would go too,” Tatyana said over the phone.
“That’s great, you’re a real friend! For sure, I won’t miss it.”
We decided to go in three cars: Sensei’s Zhiguli, Nikolai Andreevich’s Volga, and Andrew’s old Zaporozhets that he had borrowed from his grandfather. All necessary things were found collectively. Volodya promised to get tents. Stas and Eugene turned out to be passionate scuba divers and provided a supply of all fishing accessories, including an inflatable rubber dinghy. Tatyana and I took responsibility for the dishes, and Kostya was responsible for well water supply.

43

At the appointed day at five o'clock in the morning, rattling with our bowls and spoons, Tatyana and I crept along the silent streets. We came to a place of general meeting. Ruslan and Yura were already there. Then came Stas and Eugene. They told us that Sensei would be an hour late because he had worked until morning. The guys said that usually he does not stop until he has seen the last patient. The endless queue at his door finally stopped growing at almost two o'clock in the morning. Obviously, people found out that the chiropractor was leaving for a week, so they came in droves. By five o'clock in the morning, Sensei had finally finished his reception.
A bit later, Andrew and Slava arrived in his grandfather's jalopy, which seemed to be as old as Andrew's grandfather himself. But Tatyana and I were happy to go even by such means of transportation. When you are in a good company, a Zaporozhets isn’t any worse than a Mercedes. We began to put things into the steel car top carrier, having filled a trunk with our luggage almost to the top.
“Well, Kostya will have to put his bag next to him,” Andrew said in a bossy way, barely able to close the trunk.
But when Kostya arrived, Andrew's jaw drooped. Kostya's luggage arrived by Volga together with a fully loaded trailer. As we helped unload these endless bags and sacks, Andrew almost lost his gift of speech. Helplessly waving his hands, he blew up at last:
“You are out of your mind! It looks like you are going to the North Pole. We are going for a week, and just the food you brought will be enough for three years! Moreover, these huge flasks filled with water! Sensei told you to take one, not four. Why not bring a tank!”
“To tell the truth, I wanted but I could not. There was no suitable transport,” Kostya answered with a smile, nodding at his father's Volga.
“You're nuts! Just tell me, where can I fit all this? What do you want me to do with these barrels?! Unless we attach them to the Zaporozhets instead of wheels?!”
“But Nikolai Andreevich seemed to promise he’d take something in his trailer.”
“That's it, he only ‘seemed to promise.’”
“OK, don't lose your cool, we’ll think of something.”
For good fifteen minutes, Andrew indignantly circled the huge heap of Kostya's treasure. But Kostya only laughed the matter off, saying, “I will see how your Excellency will thank my Majesty for unforgettable comfort at the seaside.”
While Andrew broke out in the next fountain of emotions, Tatyana asked Kostya, “Really, why did you pack so much?”
“Well, why not enjoy ourselves? I tried hard, not for myself but for everybody,” the ‘philosopher’ said cunningly. “In general, all this is only ashes and vanity.” Taking her gently around the waist, Kostya pensively said, “Of all, thy charming lips are most precious for me.”
“Oh, you,” Tatyana gently pushed him away and burst out with laughter.
Kostya made a suffering face and said with pathos, “Ah, pride of heart costs many torments!” Looking sideways at Tatyana, he added, “I have so hardly pulled my bowstring, / That I am afraid my bow will be broken!”
“He will not get away from me. I shall make it difficult for him,” Andrew casually said loudly, continuing to mutter to himself.
All of us roared with laughter as Sensei, Volodya, and Victor drove up. Looking at the huge heap of things, Sensei asked in confusion, “Guys, are you going to the North Pole?”
All our company burst out laughing again, but Andrew, having found an accomplice in Sensei, started to complain.
At last Nikolai Andreevich arrived with the long-awaited trailer. But it appeared that the trailer was too small for all of Kostya's goods. Somehow we pushed things into three cars and began to ram our bodies inside. Slava sat in Sensei's car. Tatyana and I placed ourselves among the bags on the back seat of the Zaporozhets. And Kostya as the most guilty person got a vacant seat. It was in front, near Andrew, on a sitting which was not only non-standard, very low, but it also rocked here and there being fastened with only one screw. So Kostya, because of his height, felt all the charm of the three-hour trip in the Zaporozhets. But the never-ending humor of our guys smoothed all discomfort with friendly, cheerful laughter.
Our Zaporozhets rumbled ahead of the whole column. Andrew tried to squeeze all possible force out of it by pressing the gas pedal. Sensei and the senior guys followed us, keeping a distance. Nikolai Andreevich, being loaded up to the top, slowly drove somewhere behind Sensei. It was not enough for Andrew to head the line, so he made up his mind to show us that that Zaporozhets was the coolest car on the road. He began to overtake one car after another, speeding and throwing his chest out with pride. Kostya crossed himself for fun at these maneuvers, clutched at the front panel, and started to pray about the salvation of all drivers suffering from such an inveterate driver of this jalopy.
We rushed forward a little bit. On the way we saw a small roadside market. In the distance, Tatyana saw strawberries in baskets on the ground and shouted to the guys through the noise of the roaring engine to stop the car. When we stopped at last, Kostya gave a sigh of relief trying to get out, as he said, from this tin in which he doubled himself up like a mackerel. To let us get out, Kostya had to drag out his armchair again. The whole market observed this comedy. Moreover when Kostya at last slammed the door, a mirror fell off of it. Andrew yelled at him as though he had ruined the most sacred thing, “Master's fist should strike your body and his leg should strike your muzzle! Who on earth slams a door like this?! For three days, I have been collecting this car from pieces. It is a valuable antique! You should treat it gently, like a woman…”
And there was more of a lecture on this topic. The guys dispersed in the market choosing berries. I remained near the Zaporozhets waiting for others. Sensei with the guys drove up, but when they got out of the car, something strange happened.
One woman, wearing a black kerchief, about forty-five years old, stood without any interest with her goods. Her eyes were red from tears. Having noticed Sensei, she hastily stepped over her berries, practically scattering them all over the ground with this motion. Having run up to Sensei, she fell down at his feet and began to implore him, lamenting in tears, “I beg you, Gabriel, take