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<strong>Buddhas</strong> <strong>and</strong> <strong>Bikinis</strong> 44<br />
black h<strong>and</strong> to a small room at the far end of the block. ‛But don’t listen; go go hurry up,<br />
she is waiting.’<br />
Hiroshi was in a small room the size of a pantry. I opened her door, rehearsing<br />
words of apology.<br />
She was sitting in meditation, her thin protruding cheekbones giving her a gaunt<br />
look in the dim light. I could see the slight protruding belly that heralded the infant in her<br />
womb. I was overcome with tears of joy, as I listened to her chanting a Buddhist prayer,<br />
but dismayed at how much her physical condition had deteriorated;<br />
‘May there be the good fortune of Yidams <strong>and</strong> hosts of deities,<br />
May there be the good fortune of <strong>Buddhas</strong> <strong>and</strong> Dakinis,<br />
May there be the good fortune of Dharma protectors <strong>and</strong> guardians.’<br />
When she finished praying, I walked toward her.<br />
‛Why would you pray to buddhas <strong>and</strong> bikinis?’ I said, mishearing what she had<br />
been mumbling in prayer.<br />
Hiroshi, who hadn’t noticed my presence, jumped startled.<br />
I walked to her <strong>and</strong> kissed her cold cheek.<br />
She looked pale <strong>and</strong> her once mischievous eyes seemed lifeless. Around us<br />
bellowed the gongs of morning prayer <strong>and</strong> the soft groans of nuns stirring in the dorms.<br />
‛You should not be here,’ Hiroshi said, but her voice was like an echo. She turned<br />
away, her feeble h<strong>and</strong>s trembling, her lips blue.<br />
‛Let’s get out of here.’<br />
She fell back, like a bird falling off a tree, closing her eyes.<br />
The prayer gongs rang for a full minute, waking the sleeping Rosellas who began to<br />
symphony the morning.<br />
Hiroshi slowly regained conscious as the ambulance arrived from Noosa. While I<br />
was waiting in the car-park for the ambulance men to wheel Hiroshi into the van, Rinpoche<br />
came <strong>and</strong> stood beside me <strong>and</strong> kicked the tyres of my bike.<br />
‛Do not be confused with the appearances of things,’ he crouched down to<br />
inspecting my bike. He stunk, <strong>and</strong> his clothes were blackened with the slime of human<br />
effluent. I was wild with fury that he seemed so disinterested in Hiroshi’s welfare, until he<br />
said, ‛Hiroshi is stronger than you think Ari, but weaker than you know.’ I quickly put on<br />
my helmet, hoping to chase the ambulance, now a mile down the road. ‛No hurry,’ he<br />
added, holding his h<strong>and</strong> to my chest. ‛They will do some tests, then tell her she is dying.<br />
Don’t listen to them. They are only doctors.’ He held the bike by both h<strong>and</strong>lebars <strong>and</strong>