A voice just came crackling across the intercom. “We request that you exit the hall and line up along the road to welcome the body of His Holiness Shamar Rinpoche.”
Since yesterday night, the rumors have been flying thicker and with seemingly greater degrees of credibility. The body will arrive this morning at eleven. The body is being held at the airport awaiting a final permission document from the government. The body is on the road from Swayambhu Stupa. The body is just leaving the airport.
In any case, he’s coming. The road is lined with red carpet and marigolds. My heart is trying to hold itself steady. All the memories and emotions of these last six weeks are circling around me. Some one standing next to me just muttered out, “In any case, he precedes his body.” And whether it is Shamarpa’s mind or our own expectations, a feeling of waiting hangs in the air. When the car pulls up the drive, will we crumple or breathe a slow sigh of relief or just carry on as we have been? To each his own, I think. In any case, he’s coming.