Читать книгу Prayer for the Living - Ben Okri - Страница 13

Ancient Ties of Karma

a stoku

It was a clear bright day. Two men were about to fight a duel. One had a long knife. The other had a short sword curving sharply at the end. The one with the knife was younger, cockier, and wild. He was very sure of himself. The one with the curved sword was older, more civilized, and did not want to fight. He had done everything to avoid it. But the younger man forced his hand.

They had the first of their duels.

It began in a flash. One made a move, the other ducked, and the younger plunged the knife into the older man’s chest. This was in a shadow realm.

Then the friends traveled on. They walked through many landscapes, traversed many cities. Outside a railway station they had another flash fight. The one moved, the other ducked, and the younger one planted the knife in the older one’s chest. This was in a realm of thought.

The two men, bound together by mysterious ties, journeyed on. Traveling together had not resolved the bad blood or the fated mood between them.

The day of doom arrived. Fate had given them time to overcome their differences, and they hadn’t. The older one never provoked. He was bound to the younger one by ancient ties of karma. They came to a village in the woods. It was near a cemetery. They were now in real time.

The younger one provoked, and attacked. The older one ducked, and desultorily stabbed his weapon at the younger one who made an evasive movement. Then he planted his long knife deep into the belly of the older man and watched the blood pour out. This was real.

The younger one was not satisfied with his victory. He was outraged at the older fellow’s poor technique. While the older man stood with the knife sticking out of him, his blood draining to the ground, the younger one gave him a master class.

He replayed their moves triumphantly.

“You made a thrust. I moved sideways. The knife went between arm and body. Then I delivered the coup de grâce.”

But then the older man suddenly came to life. He made extraordinary movements, faster than the wind, swifter than thought. He made three slashing cuts and brought the sharp, curved end of his weapon down on both sides of the younger one’s neck, without touching him.

They were master strokes. The older man could have killed the younger man whenever he wanted. It became evident that the older man was the master all along. He had deliberately refrained from killing the younger man.

Then something bizarre happened. Events in the real world caught up with the truths of the shadow world. The younger man fell as if he had been struck fatally. He fell against the wall. As he sank to the ground, he cried: “Hell has opened for me.”

Right next to him a monkey’s head, yellow and red, projected from the wall. The younger man let out a barely audible Don Giovanni wail as he was snatched down to the underworld.

The older man, accompanied by the melody of the stars, was swept up to heaven.