The following exchange was deciphered from an ancient scroll found in the Dunhuang Caves...
"How's the Silk Road these days?" the Chinese scribe asked as the mules gathered in an
exhausted knot.
The Indian monk halted and clasped his hands flat together by way of
greeting, then brushed sand from his ragged robe, "Coo it was packed, you'd think there was a Mongol invasion the way people are carrying on. I hit traffic by the Persian turn -off, that was a three day wait, trying to keep the mules from the wolves and bandits. Then a cart overturned on the roundabout near
the Bactrian border..."
The scribe nodded
and tsked in sympathy, "Probably a Samarkandian merchant, typical. Lets
get the mule unpacked,eh? You'll want a rest before you take the others
onwards, I guess?".
The monk adjusted
his robe over his shoulder, "Onwards brother? No these are all for
you."
The scribe peered at
the dozen or so beasts of burden, who looked disgruntled and slightly wolved. "Really? These mules are all loaded with
the new teachings?"
The Indian looked pleased with himself,"You've got a few hundred scrolls, parchments and pamphlets, and we
threw in a few small statues and some bones that might have been Buddha's. Or not: you
know how it is with these relics.."
"They told me there were three baskets, not fourteen mules' worth!"
"It was thought that three baskets sounded more poetic".
The scribe sucked
his teeth in the time- honoured manner, "Poetic is all well and good but it doesn't get the scribing done...there must be a good decade's work for me in that lot... have
you got anything...shorter? For people to get their teeth into right
away? Like a digested version?"
"The Nikaya here is
only about three scrolls long..?"
"Hmm that's the
shortest?"
The monk tapped his
chin thoughtfully, "Well there's this..." he sat down in the road,
and assumed a position.
The scribe nodded,
"That's meditation! I know that! Tricky thing though, the Taoists have that already, I don't want to step on any toes..."
"Does their
meditation allow a person to partake of Buddha's mind...?"
"I don't think
so. I'm not sure, can't understand most of what they're on about to be fair,
it's all "purify red cinnabar" and "mix the jade essence"
and whatnot."
"Sounds like my
mum's old cough mixture recipe. Anyway, with this, you sit down and then you're
Buddha."
"What? Just
like that? Well that's nice and simple. What's all that for then?" the
scribe gestured at the baggage train.
The monk looked at it too and shrugged
his narrow shoulders. "Folks like a nice text, gives 'em something to look
at. Anyway Buddha's words are recorded there, that's spiritual gold-dust that
is..."
"Verbatim?"
asked the scribe;
"I didn't touch him" replied the monk.
"I mean,
Buddha's words were recorded at the time he spoke them."
"Technically, in
a manner of speaking. It might have taken the lads a few hundred years to
commit something to parchment, mind..."
The scribe nodded,
"I've got a few projects on the back burner myself. Well, shall we get
this lot unloaded, kick the mules a bit, then what say we grab a rice dinner, my treat?"*
*of course none of this is verified or even true...
