Rude Awakenings - Forest Sangha Publications

^0 T H I R D M O O N 06event of a robbery, to get away and hide the valuables somewhere. Thethings we really missed were the irreplaceable ones. Ajahn Sucitto’sdiary, the names and addresses of all the people we had stayed with, andthe sixteen rolls of slide film each with thirty-six pictures. I had been carryingthem to Bodh Gaya, where we were to meet Sister Thanissarafrom Ajahn Sucitto’s monastery. I had reckoned that it would be safer tosend them back with her than to post them home. We were only threedays from Bodh Gaya when we were robbed.Losing things can be freeing ... providing the mind can put themdown. I still clung to the idea that our bags might be out there in the forest.So I set off to the police station with some hope. I imagined constablessystematically searching the forest, walking back and forth in lineabreast, like they do on the news back home.Rajgir had a power cut that evening, and the main street was lit byhurricane lamps hanging over the stalls and outside the shops. Thepolice compound was through a dark gap in the wall that ran along oneside of the street. Across a wide yard framed by several long buildings,two lamps hung from a tarpaulin strung from one of the buildings, theirlight bathing a couple of desks and several policemen lounging aroundthem. No one appeared to be doing much except chatting, but theystarted to busy themselves as we sat down at one of the desks.The policeman opposite was an officer. His khaki uniform, of shirtand long baggy shorts, was neatly ironed, one silver insignia on eachlapel. A leather lanyard ran through one of the lapels and down to hisbelt, which held a holster with a pistol.“You have come to report a crime?” This was somewhat obvious as Iwas covered in blood.“We have been robbed.”“Then you must fill in the appropriate forms.” Rajgir police hadsprung into action.The officer went off for the forms but returned accompanied byanother officer. A smaller man, a little older than the first, but much2 4 6