18521053">(); These two days were a comfort I hadn't enjoyed in a long time. I can't sleep, so I wake up very early in the morning, eat something and go to the temple to hang out. There are groups of lamas in the temple. There are no special taboos, just walk around. The lamas have great respect for us outsiders. I wanted to mingle with them, but they couldn't understand the language, and very few of them could speak Chinese.

And I found a very strange phenomenon, in the past two days, some reporters have come from outside, all foreigners, with very professional cameras and cameras. I was a scumbag in English, and I couldn't communicate with them freely, so I pulled Cai Yucheng. Cai Yucheng studied abroad, and her English was quite slippery, and we talked to a foreign female reporter to find out that she came from a very famous TV program "Discovery", which translates to the Discovery Channel.

I sometimes watch this show, and it's very professional, but I didn't expect to meet a great god today. Cai Yucheng is a die-hard fan of the Discovery Channel. We talked eagerly, and only after talking did we know that the foreign film crews had arrived at the temple. Because they all know that tomorrow there will be a big funeral here, and the body of a Rinpoche will be incinerated after the ceremony. It is said that there will also be a collection of relics. The reporters were overjoyed to hear the news, and they set off from the city very early and made a bumpy journey to the mountains in order to catch the funeral.

In Tibetan Buddhism, the death and incineration of the high monks of the Yellow Sect were rarely recorded before, and it was a rare opportunity.

When these people came to the temple, the temple did not have restrictions, but also expressed the open and inclusive attitude of the sect, and also hoped that the sacred ritual of Guò would spread the concept of Huangjiao to the world.

Approaching this ritual. The atmosphere in the monastery also changed, and many lamas were busy coming and going, and it was a bit of a hindrance for us to wander around, so I went back to our residence on the high mountain. For a whole day, everyone else went out to play, especially Feng Liang came to such a place and encountered such a scene, which just scratched his itch. Take the camera everywhere to shoot enough addicted wife to marry: Break the door of the mansionRead the full text ();。 In our group, only two people did not move, and they never left the house.

One is Qingyu, and the other is the bell.

The two of them were stuffed in this dark room, lighting oil lamps, and were flipping through the piled up scriptures in the room. I don't know how many years these scrolls have been stored, and many of them are written on parchment. [To see the latest chapter of this book, please go to the popular remenxs.] When I opened it, there was a musty smell inside. The smell of the room made them very unpleasant, and even if the windows were opened, they could not dissipate.

I really can't figure out what to see, Qing Yu is just right, he lived here a long time ago, so what is Xie Ling to see. I asked Xie Ling, and Xie Ling said that he had been to such a temple many times, and it didn't feel fresh like us. He is now looking through the ancient books of scripture in the hope of gaining some enlightenment of wisdom. He now has some things in his heart, some knots and hurdles that he can't get over, and he hopes to find the answer here.

It was really suffocating to be with the two of them, and I came out of the house with the Garuda bird, and wandered around the temple again, greeting the foreign reporters and talking to them in Chinese English like a prank.

I was asleep the next day, when I heard a horn in the distance. When I opened my misty eyes, the morning light outside was slightly dewed, the clouds on the horizon were reddish, and the sound of the horn was like a sound from outside the sky, piercing through the clouds and sounding down on the earth.

Everyone in the room woke up, everyone sat up, put on their clothes, and walked out of the room together.

Outside the house was a volley hallway, with a railing, bathed in the alpine morning breeze, and we looked together towards the place where the sound came from.

It was the bottom of the temple, and by the whitening light, we could see lamas of all sizes, dressed in red robes, lining up in long lines along the playground and up the hillside behind. On that hillside was the body of Guru Dzong Madrup Rinpoche.

We took the necessary things, closed the door, and Feng Liang checked the camera. It was cold and windy in the morning, so we wrapped ourselves up and came down the mountain together.

It was only six o'clock in the morning, and a Dharma horn not only summoned the lamas in the monastery, but also woke us and the foreign journalists. These people are very professional and look for the best angle to shoot without affecting the temple rituals.

We stood in the back, and saw the lamas blowing all kinds of musical instruments, including brass bowls, Dharma trumpets, and some unknown things, which looked like vajras, and the sound of blowing was low and endless. The sound is mixed together, one after another, the mountains in the distance seem to be alarmed, facing the morning glow, countless birds are flying all over the sky Good morning, the latest chapter of my husband ();.

I also seemed to feel something on my shoulders, dancing my hands and feet, flapping my wings, bouncing around. For some reason, I was a little nervous, and I reached out to stroke it, and I was also calming my inner panic.

The senior monks of the Yellow Sect, wearing red robes and yellow monkhoods, and colorful prayer flags in the shape of prayer wheels, slowly walked towards the hillside behind them to the sound of musical instruments. I saw several of the Guru's disciples following behind. The most unstriking of these disciples is Barsso. At this moment, he is not like a practicing monk, but more like a minor child who has lost his father and spiritual support, with sadness and helplessness in his eyes, he walks in the back, always hanging his head, step by step.

The temperature gradually warmed up, and the scene did not change for a while, and we, the individual visitors and reporters, felt a little bored and got together to chat.

At this moment, suddenly a trombone sounded, piercing the sky. I saw a funeral procession coming up from below, with a monk holding a prayer flag in front, a lama carrying the corpse bed behind, and then the heart of the guru following behind.

On the bed of corpses, Dzongpo Madrup Rinpoche sits cross-legged, wrapped in a thick red garment, wearing a monk's hat, and beside him a colorful prayer wheel. With each step of the procession, the lamas on both sides would throw the hata in their hands onto the body of the lama, and for a short time, the hata was like snowflakes.

The lamas, large and small, were very religious, and even the little lamas who were a few years old had very strict expressions, and respectfully threw the hata in their hands onto the corpse.

After a short time, the hada of the guru's corpse piled up like a mountain and was snow-white.

The procession marched through the cracks of the crowd, the atmosphere was extremely solemn, and the solemnity of various Dharma horn instruments and human chanting was mixed together, and the solemnity was indescribable.

Come to a clearing with mountains and forests around you and meadows in the middle. A group of eminent monks and lamas surrounded the circle, and in the center of the circle was a burning platform that was set up, and the corpses were sent inside. The white incineration platform was covered with yellow circles, and the lamas chanted loudly and hummed.

The old lama, Zimba Pokken, lit a torch wrapped in white cloth and handed it to Basuo, the son of the heart. Baso took it with trembling hands, he knew his mission, to use fire to light the incineration table and incinerate the body of the guru with his own hands.

A young lama handed him a white cloth, which was used as a mask, to cover his nose and mouth. After all, if you burn it, there will be pungent smoke. Barsow shook his head, did not take the white cloth, held the torch, and walked step by step to the incineration table, and put the torch through the hole under the stage.

There are flammable materials in it, and when they see the fire, the fire burns, and from every crevice of the incineration table comes out with billowing smoke and the wealthy fight: abandoned women must not be bullied ();.

Baso walked back with his head hanging and returned the torch to the old lama, Zimbappoken. The fire grew bigger and bigger, and the smoke billowed and drifted away. We stood behind and watched, and we couldn't say anything in our hearts, this is death, no matter how high the monk, the bumps and ups and downs of a lifetime, and finally dissipated with the smoke and dust. Regardless of whether he is reincarnated or not, this fire represents the complete disappearance of this person from this world.

All of you came together, looking at the incineration table and the fire together. Barsseau crossed his hands, his face expressionless, his eyes staring at the smoke and dust without blinking.

At this time, the old lama Zimbappoken called Basuo and asked him to recite a scripture in front of the incineration platform.

The scriptures are in the local language, and Qing Yu gently translates them to us sentence by sentence.

"May our Divine Guru live forever! Dispel the ignorance and darkness of the beings of the Three Realms! The deeds of the future, the life of life, the vows and the measured guru, will never be separated. I often hear and listen to the nectar of the Dharma rain of victory! ”

The fire burned for a full morning before it gradually went out, and strangely enough, the air was not filled with the smell of corpses, but with a faint fragrance.

After the cremation, there is a very important part, collecting relics and searching for signs of reincarnated spirit children.

I heard Ching Yu say that after the death of a great lama, especially Rinpoche, who is known as the reincarnated Venerable Venerable, burning his body can give some signs of miracles that indicate where he will be reincarnated.

Qing Yu said that it had been two days, and Shi Wensheng had not been sent back by these lamas, indicating that there was a door here. If the miracles shown by the Guru after the incineration prove Swensheng again, then his identity as a reincarnated spirit child is confirmed. Taitu Tudi.

This process is very important for both the temple and us.

The incinerator was removed, revealing a pile of ashes resembling white charcoal powder. An old lama led several hearts into the ashes of the corpse, carefully inspecting every corner and collecting relics.

Foreign reporters approached with cameras in their hands, and as long as they didn't get in the way, no one chased them.

"Look, what is this?" A heartfelt person suddenly exclaimed as he looked at the ashes.

Copy this address to the browser to see the latest chapter