The Guru (frag. 3)

Submitted by Ken Watts on Thu, 02/12/2009 - 16:14

"MAKE ME ABLE TO visit that old amusement park."

The guru did.

The young man found himself standing in the middle of the park, just as he remembered it. The music, the noise, the colors and smells—they were all there, all powerful, all just as they had been.

He spent hours walking the fairway, riding the rides, eating cotton candy, and enjoyed every minute.

Of course, it wasn't the same.

He wasn't a child anymore, and partly because of that there was still something—some illusive quality—missing.

He was grateful for the experience, but no nearer to the end of his quest.

He found himself standing between the entrance to the fun house and a hot dog stand, wondering if he would ever achieve enlightenment.

On the whole, he thought it might be best to just give the idea up and move on with his life.

The proprietor of the hot dog stand shook his head.

"You can't find yourself, or reality, in a remembered past anymore than you can in an imagined future."

The guru, again.

The young man shook his head.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for such a grand destiny. Maybe I'm better off just living a normal life."

A sudden inspiration hit him.

"Say, that young woman I met... Do you think she might be interested in a sort of average guy?"

The guru laughed, and spread some onions on the grill.

"Maybe. But I can't grant wishes about relationships. Only she can do that."

"Yeah. Well, thanks anyway. It's been a very interesting experience. I think I'll just go and see what she says. I've got nothing to lose."

"You're not going to use your last wish?"

The young man shook his head.

"There's nothing you could give me that I really..."

The steam from the onions wafted into his face. He stopped, mid-sentence, and laughed.

"Actually, yes. There's one thing I do know I want."

He gestured toward the hot dogs, plump on the grill. His mouth watered.

"Make me one with everything."

And the guru did.