(a)

Thangka is a unique Tibetan painting art, using natural pigments according to the patterns and patterns of ancient secret methods, painted on natural fabrics, forming scroll paintings of different sizes, small ones as big as palms, and large ones can cover half of the hillside. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

The first time I saw a thangka pattern was in Mr. Chai's painting folder.

Mr. Chai is our art teacher, he is not very old, and he is also handsome, but he has two mustaches, standing in the crowd, quite eye-catching.

Just for these two mustaches, he doesn't know how much persuasion he has received and how many times he has been criticized by the country, but he has always insisted on not shaving, and he has no regrets.

Mr. Chai and you and Mr. Wang are good friends, and you often play basketball together, because you and Mr. Chai are both single, so the relationship is closer.

Regarding the matter between us, although he has never said it explicitly, Mr. Chai has always known it in his heart, and he has never said anything about it.

That day, Mr. Chai came to you at the training ground after afternoon class to discuss the issue of letting you play for him in a basketball game in the evening. Because Mr. Chai has to attend a training class in the evening.

The training was over when he came in, and you were coaching me in the technical direction office.

When you see him come in, you stop tutoring and greet him first.

And then you start talking about the basketball game, and I'm sitting next to you and waiting for you to finish.

Mr. Chai's large painting folder is placed on your desk.

He has always acted casually, and the large painting folder is placed casually, and it is not very secure. As he spoke, he heard a plop, and the large folder slipped off the glass plate and fell to the ground. The paper inside was scattered all over the ground, blown by the wind through the hall, and floated everywhere.

So, all three of us leaned over to pick up the paper.

After picking up two or three sketches of Mr. Chai on the floor and on the chair, my eyes suddenly lit up and I saw a beautifully colored printed painting with various images of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas protecting the Dharma. They immediately captivated me.

When we helped Mr. Chai put the drawing paper back into the clip, I asked, "What is this?" ”

Teacher Chai replied to me, "It's a thangka pattern." ”

That's the first time I heard the word "thangka".

(b)

My art grades have always been bad, but I have a good relationship with Mr. Chai.

Ms. Chai is one of the few teachers who never uses a grade criterion to evaluate students.

In fact, he doesn't treat his students as students, no matter how big or small, they all regard them as friends. For this reason, he is also very loved by his classmates in private.

The courses you teach are all marginal courses, especially the arts, but it's also interesting that both of you have a good reputation and prestige among your classmates, and you have some very well-known ace teachers in affinity.

In this congenial and relaxed atmosphere, we had some conversations about thangkas that day.

When you went to Qinghai with your father before, you had seen this kind of thing, so you explained some questions about thangkas to me.

However, you also have things that you are curious about. So, you ask Mr. Chai, "Why do you want to draw a lot of small statues of gods behind a statue?" ”

Mr. Chai said that he was not very clear, and he vaguely heard someone say that this means that every god has a projection in every universe, which means that it is everywhere.

Mr. Chai also talked about a strange explanation. He said that a colleague had explained to him that there were other implications for this. The moral is that each of us has more than one existence, and there is also one of our own existence in each universe. "I" is "we". In other words, there is a shadow behind everyone.

When Mr. Chai said the sentence "There are shadows behind everyone", my heart suddenly moved.

That's exactly how I feel when I face you.

After saying this explanation, Mr. Chai himself first expressed his confusion, saying, "How can there be multiple universes? Isn't the universe endless? It should be everything, why is there more than one? ”

He looks at you as soon as he finishes speaking. You say, "Don't look at me, I'm not good at explaining." ”

You look at me, and you say, "But there's someone here who might be good at explaining this." ”

So, Mr. Chai looked at me.

My face flushed.

(c)

I said, "With the trust and encouragement of the two teachers, I'll try to explain the problem." Let's start with one question. Excuse me, how many of them are in this room? ”

Teacher Chai replied without thinking: "One." ”

You laugh a little when you hear this, but you don't answer. Obviously, you don't think there's only one me.

Seeing that you were smiling and silent, Mr. Chai looked at you suspiciously and asked, "Did you see two?" ”

You smile again, and you say, "Of course, there's far more than one." ”

Teacher Chai looked around and said, "Where is the rest of the heart?" ”

I said, "Teacher Chai, you can't look outside, you have to look inside." Look at yourself and the hearts of others. ”

I said, "I'm not the only one in this room. ”

I said, "First of all, there is a self in my own mind, then another me in the mind of Teacher Chai, and then there is a guide in the mind, and there are three mes. ”

Teacher Chai thought for a moment and said, "Well, it makes sense. ”

I said, "Actually, I could count more of me." ”

I said, "For example, there are some ants crawling on the ground in this room. There will be a me in the eyes of every ant. ”

"There are also many kinds of bacteria in this room. There will also be a me in the sense of every germ. ”

"Split it up like this, there are millions of me in the room, to say the least. Right? ”

"Moreover, there will also be millions of Chai teachers and millions of guides."

I said, "If every viewer counts as one world, then I have a projection in a million worlds." ”

"Both teachers have both."

"If one universe can become so many mes, why can't one universe become countless universes? There is an ancient poem called "A Thousand Rivers Have Water and a Thousand Rivers and Moons", which explains this thangka pattern. ”

When Mr. Chai heard this, his eyes rolled upward, looked at the ceiling, and whistled softly.

You tapped Mr. Chai on the shoulder, and you said, "You asked the question first." Answer you, you're like that again. There is no dignity at all. ”

Mr. Chai is looking at you, his eyes full of what he wants to say to you.

You look at him, and you smile and say to me, "Help me go out and see if all the equipment is packed?" ”

I nodded and went out.

In the hallway, I looked back at the room. I saw Mr. Chai whispering something to you. You glared at him. Teacher Chai couldn't help but laugh.

(iv)

When we went home together that day, I sat on the back of your bicycle and I asked you, "What did Mr. Chai say to you after I left?" ”

You laugh a little.

I said, "You must be talking about me." ”

You say, "You certainly don't want to know what we're talking about." ”

I said, "You asked me to answer, if Mr. Chai laughs at me, you are the one who made a fool of me." ”

You laugh and say, "I've used words that hurt so badly." ”

I don't squeak anymore. You stop the car, you look back at me.

You say, "Angry? ”

I still don't squeak.

You whispered, "Just now, he told me that it would be very economical for me to get married in the future." ”

I raise my eyes and look at you in bewilderment. You laugh and say, "He said that I only need one grain of rice every month to eat." Because someone will turn it into millions of grains of rice. ”

My face flushed.

You say, "I told you you don't want to know." ”

(5)

About a month or two after the thangka happened, I saw that Mr. Chai had a fever on his face, and I was not embarrassed to look up at him in art class.

Since then, you have often done art homework for me, and Mr. Chai has given it high marks without knowing it.

Now, all these youth stories have passed like a dream.

Just like when I was writing this story, the infinite countless worlds outside the window passed by like a dream.

Things are like spring dreams, without a trace. (To be continued.) )