(///invalidity.impose.tickling – Tiger’s Nest Monastery, Bhutan)
“That’s good. And that.” Barry fired off photos on his phone.
“Get that,” Deirdre suggested, pointing to the flags fluttering from the walls. Barry snapped away.
A young monk walked close to them, curious it seemed about their phone. Barry gestured to him to take a closer look. The robed young man inclined his shaven head to study it.
“What life is this to impose on a kid,” Barry muttered. “What is he, 18? Stuck here, away from everything, praying, studying, nothing to hear except those endless bells, nothing to see except the goats.”
“Don’t be rude,” Deirdre hissed.
“He doesn’t understand. Do you like this?” Barry asked the monk abruptly. “This tickling your fancy?”
The monk stepped back, bowed and walked away.
“You insulted him.”
“Nonsense, I showed him what he’s missing.”
“You did neither,” a voice behind them interrupted. They turned to see another monk, resembling the young man in every way except for his aged features and twinkling smile.
“What did we do then?”
“You misunderstood,” the old monk said. “You showed him something you thought he needed. But he doesn’t. He chooses this. This peace and solitude, this oneness with what is real. Your world view is mistaken, it is an invalidity.”
They turned back to look at the young monk. This time he smiled. And pulled his phone out of his sleeve.
“He also has the latest model,” the older monk chuckled. “We embrace our past here. But we are also at one with the future.”
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