A Satsang

May 8, 2015

A Satsang

Master sat on the hard stone rising above the polished earth patch with a handful of disciples.

He talked about Surrender. The faces he watched held no secrets – he travelled all those paths.

Now a disciple threw himself in front him.

With a merciless foot Master pushed him away, gazed down. In a second, the face of the lad betrayed shock, then anger, then suppression, then humility. Before it left the anger behind, Master’s finger was thrust towards him: “THAT is true! The shit you gave me before that disgusted me! And now you disgust me again. Get out.”
The end

Something came up during my morning reflection. I recorded it here and to give it some discipline, decided to make it a 100 words short story.

From Wiki: 
Satsanga, Satsangam, Satsang (Sanskrit ??????? sat = true, sanga = company) in Indian philosophy means (1) the company of the “highest truth,” (2) the company of a guru, or (3) company with an assembly of persons who listen to, talk about, and assimilate the truth.[1] This typically involves listening to or reading scriptures, reflecting on, discussing and assimilating their meaning, meditating on the source of these words, and bringing their meaning into one’s daily life.[citation needed]

'You've wasted a lot of time. It's all on my blog.'

‘You’ve wasted a lot of time. It’s all on my blog.’

 

Big Issue

May 5, 2011

Fist time he appeared on the High Street, the town felt sympathy and bought a few copies. It is a charitable town. His face was round, rosy-cheeked and looking towards building a new life.
– Big Issue! – deep pleasant voice boomed up and down the street effortlessly. It sounded the way a butler would announce the cocktails – perfect pronunciation, but he didn’t speak English.

The town run out of interest quite soon. He sat on a plastic box, dosing occasionally – the epicentre of the pedestrian-free zone – us, the towners discretely crossing over to the other side.

Marina Kim