A month had passed since Ayan began his regular visits to the old hermit's cave. One day, he made his usual trip up the mountain, but something was different this time. The old hermit was gone, as well as the food and water he had been leaving. Ayan's heart raced. He searched the nearby area frantically, calling out, but there was no trace of the hermit as if he had vanished into thin air.
Confused and disappointed, Ayan returned home, but he continued to visit the cave every holiday, leaving food and water just in case. Ten days later, he returned to find the offerings gone. His heart leaped with hope, and he began searching for the hermit once again, but his efforts were in vain. Crestfallen, he started walking down the mountain, his steps heavy with disappointment.
Halfway down, he noticed someone sitting under a large tree. As he approached, his breath caught in his throat—it was the old hermit, looking far healthier than before. Though still thin, he was draped in a tattered robe barely covering his body, his face seemed rejuvenated, almost serene. His long white beard and sparse, graying hair suggested his age, but his skin now had a glow of vitality and looked like that of a healthy middle-aged person.
Ayan hurriedly bowed before the hermit and placed the food and water beside him. He sat down and waited, hoping the old man would open his eyes. To pass the time, Ayan tried meditating in the hermit's presence like he used to, but this time, the mysterious feelings he had once experienced in the cave eluded him. Restless and bored, he peeked at the hermit, who remained motionless, his face calm and peaceful.
Hours passed, and the sun began to set. The faint light of dusk stretched across the horizon when the hermit finally stirred. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and Ayan was struck by their childlike vitality—full of life and mischief. The hermit smiled warmly, his jovial nature shining through.
Ayan bowed deeply again and nervously asked, "Are you a mystic?"
The old hermit met his gaze, smiled, and began peeling the fruit Ayan had offered, ignoring the question entirely. Undeterred, Ayan waited silently until the hermit finished eating.
At last, the hermit looked up, grinned, and said simply, "No."
Ayan blinked, stunned by the delayed answer. "But… you lived in that cave without food or water for so long. You were barely breathing, and there was something strange about the atmosphere in the cave…"
The hermit cut him off, chuckling. "If you think all that is mystical, fine—call me a mystic."
Relieved, Ayan knelt on the ground, bowing deeply once more. "Will you be my master?"
The hermit threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound echoing through the forest. When his laughter subsided, he asked, "Why do you want me to be your master?"
Ayan paused, thinking carefully before answering. "I want to experience the mystical dimensions and achieve ultimate realization. You're a mystic, so you must know how. I want to learn your methods."
The hermit's smile faded, and he spoke in a more serious tone. "I don't have anything to teach you for the ultimate realization. In fact, no one does. Imagine if a man is blind from birth, you cannot make him realize what colors are. You can explain about colors—an apple is red, make him feel it and taste it but they'll never truly understand color until they can see for themselves. He can become knowledgeable about colors and can proudly teach his blind peers about colors but they still haven't realized it."
Ayan didn't fully grasp the meaning behind the hermit's words, but he sensed rejection in them. Before he could speak, the hermit added with a playful glint in his eye, "However, you can help him slowly heal his eyes. When he becomes courageous enough, he can open his eyes on his own and realize the world of colors…. Similarly, I do have methods to help you but you may or may not experience mystical dimensions with it."
Ayan's eyes lit up, and he bowed again, his hands folded. "Please, will you help me?"
The hermit stroked his beard thoughtfully, then ignored the plea. Instead, he asked, "Why do you want to experience the mystical? For power? For capabilities?"
Ayan hesitated before admitting, "I want to explore the deeper dimensions beyond my current experience. I also seek the capabilities that come with it, especially how to use my own energies." 'And to find the mysterious lady from my dreams', he added internally.
The hermit gazed at Ayan for a long time, as if seeing through him. Then he said, "Imagine there are two paths up a mountain. One is short, but treacherous, and the likelihood of losing yourself along the way is high. The other path is long, but safe, filled with difficulties beyond imagination as well as pleasures of life fulfilling all your dreams. Which one would you choose?"
After contemplating for a long time, Ayan replied, "I'd choose the second path."
The hermit sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not able to teach you any mystical methods or anything dealing with energies. Besides, you currently have some serious problems with your body's constitution."
Feeling dejected by the rejection, Ayan still asked, "What's wrong with my body?"
The hermit spoke calmly. "You've noticed that the skin on your face is divided into two tones, yes? This is the sign that two different forces in your body are opposing each other barely maintaining a delicate balance. And, it will take time—maybe a long time—before you're able to bring your body and your energies to the required balance."
Ayan frowned. "But I've never been sick, and I've always performed better than other healthy kids my age," he said in a gloomy tone.
Ayan felt sad hearing the explanation from the old hermit. He felt the old hermit was reluctant to teach him anything and the problem in his body felt like a made-up excuse to dismiss him.
The old hermit shook his head and stayed silent, giving him no further explanation.
Frustrated, Ayan sat quietly for a moment before asking, "Is it because of my choice or due to the condition of my body?"
The hermit shrugged nonchalantly. "Could be one, could be both. Maybe neither."
Ayan thought for a moment and requested, "I know you're definitely a great mystic. Perhaps you have come across many mystics and masters in your journeys, and will be kind enough to help me with some guidelines, some directives– because I am feeling at a loss, where to go. I am in search of a master."
The old hermit suddenly had a sparkle in his eyes and he spoke with great enthusiasm, "I will give you the exact details. The master looks like this: his eyes sparkle with innocence like that of a child, and he has a certain aura around him… "
He went on to describe the face of the master, his sparkling eyes, his nose of the master, his white beard, his radiant aura, and even the robe he wore. "And he sits under a certain tree" –he described the tree in great detail.
Seeing the enthusiasm with which the hermit spoke about helping him find a master, Ayan felt a striking sense of disappointment. "Where will I find this master?" he asked, his voice heavy.
The old hermit interrupted, "You'll find him; just remember these details. Whenever you find a man who fulfills these criteria, you have found your master."
Silence lingered between them for a few minutes.
"Also, do you have any more food with you?" the hermit casually inquired.
Ayan took out a few packets of dry fruits from his bag. "I only have this much right now. I will bring more next time I come."
The sky had darkened so Ayan requested the hermit to spend the night in his home but the hermit dismissed him.
With a heavy heart, Ayan left, feeling the weight of rejection and failure pressing down on him. That night, he ate dinner quietly, lost in thought—completely unlike his usual self.
His parents had always known about his search for the awakened hermit. Noticing Ayan's somber mood, his Aunt Tsering asked gently, "What's wrong? Did you have some unpleasant experience in the forest?"
Ayan shook his head, "Nothing. I just found that old hermit and had a talk."
Uncle Samuel chimed in with a smile, "Then, why the long face? You should be happy you finally found him."
Ayan suddenly asked in a serious tone, "Do I have something wrong with my body? You two don't need to hide it from me anymore—I'm old enough to handle the truth. Please tell me."
Both his aunt and uncle exchanged puzzled glances. Aunt Tsering was first to respond, "What nonsense are you spouting? We've been taking care of you since you were a baby. I've never seen you sick, not even a common cold or a fever. The only time you gave us trouble was when you swallowed a peanut, almost choking."
Uncle Samuel nodded and asked, "What did you talk about with the old hermit?"
Ayan replied, "I asked him to make me his disciple and to teach me the mystical ways. But…."
Aunt Tsering interrupted, "No way you're becoming a disciple of an ascetic. I know how the disciples of such hermits are. They live as a celibate and an ascetic. I don't want to see you like that."
Ayan continued, " .., he rejected me."
Samuel's brow furrowed. "Did he say it was because of something wrong with your body?"
Ayan nodded, confirming his uncle's suspicion.
Aunt Tsering scoffed, "See? Most of your old hermits are all like this. Who knows if he's a charlatan trying to entice you to do things for him in exchange for curing the non-existent problem in your body."
Uncle Samuel, ignoring his wife's remark, asked. "Did he just reject you or forbade you from making contact with him?"
"He didn't forbid me from returning. He just refused to teach any mystical methods to me." Ayan explained. "But he did ask for more fruits when I visit him next time."
Samuel chuckled. "It's alright. Mystics all have their own quirks and eccentric personalities. It's common for them to refuse to teach any methods. Many of them want to stay away from society or stay hidden and don't want the trouble that comes along with the disciples."
Ayan felt a bit lighter. "So, you want me to keep visiting him? Maybe if I improve his impression of me, he'll reconsider?"
Samuel smiled. "Mystics do everything for a reason, even though it appears ridiculous to us. Even if he's refusing to teach mystical methods, it wouldn't hurt to learn a thing or two from him. Who knows what they considered as simple knowledge may be something invaluable to us."
Aunt Tsering snapped, "Don't tell me you're encouraging him to live like an ascetic!"
Samuel quickly clarified, "No, no! I didn't mean it like that. Besides, that hermit already refused to make Ayan his disciple…."
Ayan hurriedly escaped, knowing it wouldn't be easy facing his angry aunt.
----
On the next holiday, Ayan made his way back to the old hermit, this time carrying a large bag full of fruits. He bowed respectfully and greeted the hermit, who smiled warmly upon seeing the offering.
The hermit gestured for Ayan to sit beside him and join him, and the two began sharing the fruits. Ayan ate a small guava out of courtesy, watching the hermit savor the food with delight.
After some time, Ayan cleared his throat. "Great mystic, there's something I've been meaning to ask."
The hermit raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue.
Ayan hesitated but then said, "That day when I sat in front of you with my eyes closed, I felt something strange…"
Before he could finish, the hermit interrupted, "You want to ask about meditation, don't you?"
Ayan nodded eagerly. "It was so easy when I was near you, but when I tried meditating at home, it felt impossible."
The hermit chuckled softly. "That's because you're trying to do meditation. You can't do meditation. But you can become meditative."
Ayan's brow furrowed in confusion.
The hermit continued, "You cannot suddenly pull a flower out of a plant. If you want flowers, then you have to take care of the manure, the soil, the water, sunlight, and the air. If the plant is in the right ambiance, the flowers will naturally blossom. Similarly, if your mind, body, emotions, and your energies are in a conducive state, meditation will naturally happen."
He paused, then added teasingly, "But I won't teach you any meditative techniques."
Ayan sighed, resigned. "Because of the condition of my body, right?"
The hermit nodded solemnly, his playful demeanor softening.