Tokyo Twins Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*



Susan blew out the two candles in the bedroom

and Katie scooted to the wall, right of the window

and pressed her back straight against it

and slid the window open, low along the sill

with an unseen outstretched arm.

"Satchitananda-san!"

"I'm here."

"Wait a sec. Stay down. They got roaming flash lights."

"I'm in no hurry."

"Okay, grab my hand!"



Kenji slithered low over the sash and sat on the floor in the dark.

"How did you get by the agents and police outside?

"I don't know. But here I am. How are my girls doing tonight?"

"I don't know." Katie said.

"Missing our Obá-chan," said Susan.

"But we can't call her. They took our cell phones," Katie said.

"She called 30 minutes ago. She's under suspicion

because of me, and now under house arrest. But here.

Take my cell phone. I won't need it any more.

No, we can't.

"Please." He rubbed his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

"Now," he said, tell me what you're feeling tonight."

"Scared," the one said.

"Stupid," said the other.

"We just want our mother and father back." The one said.

"We wanna go home," said the other.

"How was training today?" Kenji said.

"Oh yeah!" Susan said.

"You know, Uncle Kenji," said Katie, it was amazing what happened."

"Our performance in the gym was perfect," said Susan.

"Like a miracle, it was." Katie said.

"And now we're feeling determined about Wednesday," she added.

"And relieved, too." said Susan.

"Relieved? How's that?" Kenji said.

"Well." Susan said pausing, "It's a lucky thing you stayed on the train.

There were agents at the gym looking for you." Katie said.

"I see," said Kenji plainly..

"Did you find your flute?" said Susan.

"Not yet."

"That flute once belonged to Gandhi?" said Susan.

"What did Gandhi do?" Katie said.

Kenji struck a match, and a glow brought their six black eyes into view.

"Gandhi?" Kenji said and lit one of the candles.

"He was born in India in 1869, and grew up there,

and studied law at University College London

and then spent the early part of his law career

in South Africa. He wanted to do something

about the stranglehold that racism had on the non-white populations.

"Racism."

"That we do know a little something about."

Kenji nodded his head. "He became interested

in empowering these victims of racism

by spreading an interesting combination of knowledge among them.

One piece of this knowledge was the Hindu notion of ahimsa -

`Be the peace you seek in the world' -

another was the principle of non-violent civil disobedience.

"What's that?" Katie said.

It's taking some kind of personal action

to demonstrate your disagreement with an official wrong-doing,

a peaceful action, but performed with one's body

to stop the wrong-doing."

"Not just writing a letter to the editor..." said Susan.

"No." Kenji said.

"What kind of wrong-doing?" Katie asked.

"One that is favored by state authorities

but usually ignored to avoid trouble by people in general."

"Like what?"

"Good question. Gandhi asked the same thing,

and got his answer from the American, Henry David Thoreau,

who wrote a famous essay in America's early years,

called `On the Duty of Civil Disobedience'.

"Duty?" said Katie.

"Duty." said Kenji. Not for every wrongdoing you become aware of....

but certainly the wrongdoings you are somehow connected to,

directly or indirectly."

"Like what?" Katie said.

"Thoreau decided to quit paying the tax collector." said Kenji.

"How come?" Susan said.

"He realized some of this money was being used

in the perpetuation of slavery in America." Kenji said.

"What happened?" the girls asked.

"Thoreau was arrested. Went to jail." Kenji said.

"You mean he could have paid the tax collector,

but decided to go to jail instead?" Susan said.

"Correct. Gandhi combined the knowledge of ahimsa

and the duty of civil disobedience

and called it Satyagraha, or `truth in action'. Kenji said.

"Huh." the girls said at once.

"It's standing up and saying no to your participation

in something you know is wrong?" said Katie.

"Does it work?" said Susan.

"Whether it is one person or one million standing up,

yes, on some level, it does work."

"How?" said Susan.

Kenji shifted his sitting position a moment.

The girls stretched their legs out behind them

lying on their stomachs and holding their heads up with their hands.



"All goodness, Katie and Susan,

and all knowledge in creation

are interconnected and work together..."



"Do they play together, too?" Susan said with a raised eye-brow.

"Thank you, Susan-san." Kenji went on. "That's exactly what they do.

And any droplet of goodness anywhere

effects the whole."

"What about bad people and bad things?" said Katie.

"Ah. Human ignorance. That too

is tightly woven and works the same way." Kenji said.

"How come?" Katie said.

"Ignorance and knowledge, joy and suffering,

all come forth from one thing..." Kenji said.

"Which is..." Katie said.

"Which is something for you to ponder, Katie-san."

"Well then," said Katie, "knowledge and ignorance, joy and suffering...

if it's all connected and comes from one thing,

what's the difference?"



"The difference is in seeing the connections.

Knowledge sees them in their natural states.

Ignorance either doesn't see connections at all,

or confuses the connections in some unnatural way." said Kenji.



"Like how?" said Susan.

"Hmmm? Take the word, 'gaijin', or foreigner,

for example" said Kenji, "in Japanese,

'gaijin' implies something dirty and nasty."

"But few gaijin are actually dirty and nasty." said Katie.

"Exactly." said Kenji.

"And that's an unnatural connection..." Susan said.

"But it's one held fast by many here in Japan." Kenji said.

"You can say that again." said Katie.



"There must be billions of examples like that." Katie said.

"And ignorance is blind to them all." said Susan.

"Blind to the nature of their own connections, yes." said Kenji.

"So how come ignorance always seems to be winning?" said Katie.

"Ignorance is deeply rooted in us all.

It's not something good or bad,

it's how we're wired." Kenji said.

"Sounds like a design flaw." said Susan.

"Perhaps it is, Susan-san. But creation has integrity,

and provides for us an elegantly simple way

for seeing connections." Kenji said.

"If it's so simple why don't we see it?" said Katie.

"Because it is that which it does,

and cannot be seen directly." Kenji said.



"I'm lost." said Katie.

"Me too." Susan said.

"Okay. Let's follow this in steps." Kenji said.

Here's step one: Question. What allows you to see anything?

"My eyes." said Susan.

"Okay." Kenji said. "Then lay them on the table here

and tell me how that works."

"Well you can't..." Katie said.

"They have to be... oh... yeah...." Susan smiled.

"...connected," said Katie.

"True. You cannot directly see your own eyes." Kenji said.

"Unless you put them on the table, so to speak..." said Susan.

"...yes, to see them indirectly." Kenji said.

"Wait a sec, said Katie. Ignorance among human beings is winning

because we can't really see it directly?

"Ignorance, too, is a way of seeing." said Kenji.

"And instead of putting our ignorance up on the table and looking at it...." said Katie.

"... we try to connect it to something directly," said Susan.

"Or to some one, said Kenji, or some group, or some country, or some race."

"and form some unnatural connection..." said Katie.

"Yes, said Kenji, "we connect our own ignorance

to something completely unrelated to our ignorance."

"Such a simple thing." said Susan.

"And things get even simpler." said Kenji...

"Here's step two:

Put your eyes back on the table for a moment.

Question: "Whose eyes are these that are connected?"

Kenji reached and covered for a moment Susan's eyes.

"They're mine!" Susan said.

"Oh? And who is this "me" that claims them?" said Kenji.

Me! Susan O'Brien!

"Are you sure?" Kenji said.

"Of course!" said Susan.

"Then which one is doing most of the work, hmmm?" Kenji said.

These eyes? Or Susan O'Brien?"



"Neither. They work because of the connection." Susan said.

"And can you see this connection?" Kenji said.

"No." said Susan.

"Then how do you know it's there?" Kenji said.

"I don't know."

"Correct." Kenji smiled. "Which takes us to step three.



Let's close our eyes for a moment.

Question: Is there not someone inside you,

even with your eyes closed, that also sees?" Kenji said.

"Yes." said the girls.

And also hears? Kenji said.

"Yes." said the girls.

"And also feels, and tastes and smells?" Kenji said.

"Yes."

"And who is that someone? Hmmm?" Kenji said.

"It's me." Susan said.

"And where is your me?" said Kenji.

"In here!" said Susan.

"Then, your 'me', in there,

uses you external senses, if connected...

and your 'me' uses your internal senses, if.... what?" Kenji said.

"Connected." Said Katie



"And now step four." said Kenji,

"Question: Who is connecting our senses to who we are?"

"Sounds tricky." said Katie.

"Remember your initial question, Katie?

'If everything is connected, why is it hard to see'?" said Kenji.

"Yes, and you said because it is that which it does." Katie said.

"And what was our first example?" Kenji said.

"The eyes on the table." said Susan.

"Correct." said Kenji. "Now again,

who is connecting our senses to who we are?"

"Me?" Katie said.

"Then let's put your 'me'

up on the table and see how that works." Kenji said.

"So to speak." said Susan.

"Yes, look at your 'me' on the table for a moment.

and one more simple thing... feel your 'me'

on the table there as well." Kenji said.



"Look at and feel my 'me' on the table." said Katie.

"Yes." Kenji said.



The girls pulled their blankets again over their shoulders

and looked through their glowing cold breath

to the small table near by.



"There is something that happens," Kenji said,

"when we consciously gaze upon our own consciousness.

I can tell by the grins on your faces

how disturbed you are by this..."



"It feels quite good, actually." said Susan.

"Relaxing, quiet." Katie said.

"Warm inside." said Susan.



"The ancient sages,

call this experience 'ananda' or bliss." said Kenji.

" 'Ananda!' said Katie. "That's part of your name!"

"Yes." said Kenji,

"Consciousness or 'Sat',

gazed upon by Awareness or 'Chit',

creates Bliss or 'Ananda'."



Satchitananda! said Katie.

"You chose that for your name!" said Susan in wonder.

"It helps me remember who I am." Kenji softly smiled.


...


(End of Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*)

*Another view of the same title of a greater work by you know who.

...