Tales and Stories

Chapter 14 - Sadhus and Smoke

Baba Gene shrugged.

“A novel interpretation of the Good Book, Lou but the real story is that there is no greater curse than vanity. No greater cause of pain than pride. Do you suppose that through my many years of contemplation and introspection I cursed Reality for imprisoning me within it? Do you suppose you can escape the world by thinking yourself superior to it?

The only escape from the maya is to surrender the ego and then the soul may sail away on the wings of God.”

“Oh really?” She smirked, “But you do get quite a kick from playing the wise old impotent around the fire, getting stoned in the name of the gods whilst laying the righteous trip on everyone else, huh?”

She threw her empty bottle behind her and as it smashed on the tiles she called for another. Another singer was now quietly wailing of an old, lost love and the afficionados gathered about him with encouraging cries of ‘Ay. Ay. Ay.’ and “Lo canta.’

The waiter arrived with wine and cigarettes. Lou and Kifkef availed themselves at once but Baba Gene picked up a cigarette with some suspicion. He tore out the filter and lit up from the candle burning in the middle of the table.

“A sadhu needs smoke like others need air. “ he said. “Now on the subject of vanity and pride, allow me to tell a story from the Far East where a lesson awaits us.

The Story of the Master of the Fly Swat