The Bell-Boy by James Hamilton-Paterson Read Free Book Online

wall surmounted by more iron fencing high enough to lose itself in the lower leaves of several lettuce trees whose drizzling gums and resins turned the pavement beneath them black and tacky before the monsoon. The grounds visible within were heavily overgrown, dark with foliage and tangled with vines. Among it all, gourds and blooms burned like sultry flames. There was no notice on the gate, no inscription over the blockhouse’s narrow doorway, nothingto tell the curious passer-by that this was indeed a house of worship rather than a ponderous tomb.
    Thanks to his friendship with Mr Tominy Bundash, an official guide who carried a plastic ID card in a leather wallet to prove it, Laki knew something of this mysterious place although he quite badly wanted to know more. One memorable afternoon eighteen months ago in the Nirvana’s kitchen, he had questioned the guide and learned it was known as the Lingasumin, its full title being ‘First Tantric Temple of the Left-Handed Shaktas, Malomban Rite’.
    ‘As you are doubtless aware,’ Mr Tominy Bundash had said in his official voice, ‘Tantrism or Tantric Buddhism originated in mediaeval India. Its adherents strive to attain liberation through two principal means: firstly by the repetition of sacred phrases culled from the Tantric scriptures known as dharani, and secondly by the yogic practice of sexual intercourse. The Malomban Rite here, due to migratory patterns over the last century, is more Hindu than Buddhist and characterised by “left-handedness” or the antinomian doctrine that a human being is beyond such petty matters as good and evil and –’
    ‘Sexual intercourse?’ Laki interrupted incredulously. ‘Did you say sexual intercourse?’
    ‘I did, boy. They believe that the height of religious experience is the utter bliss of ritual sexuality.’
    ‘You mean it’s a religion ? Can anyone join?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ said the guide loftily. ‘However, I’m assured by my good friend the Mayor’s brother, Mr Botiphar, that they’re a sect of considerable austerity and self-control. For example, they completely abjure drinking and smoking. But I digress. One of the classic Tantric practices involves union with a shakti or spiritual wife, but in the Malomban Rite it is considered an act of greater devotion to the deity to have union promiscuously with social inferiors – one cites for scriptural precedent the love of Lord Krishna for the milkmaid, Radha – or with othersof the same sex. Practices include the so-called black ritual in which a corpse is induced to ejaculate, rarefied techniques of self-stimulation and ways of greatly enlarging the male member of regeneration.’
    ‘What’s that?’
    His informant descended with some exasperation. ‘That’s your cock, you stupid boy.’
    ‘No, I mean, what’s the technique?’ Although it was a fact that the very conversation was proving efficacious with Laki.
    ‘I can’t possibly say,’ said Mr Bundash. It was not clear as to whether he spoke out of discretion or ignorance. ‘I am emphatically not a member of this sect; I am a good Moslem. It is merely part of my profession to know facts about the buildings and customs of Malomba which would be of interest to a visitor. I’m hardly an expert on the finer points of very alien religious doctrines. But since you ask, I believe it involves caterpillar hair.’
    Thereafter whenever Laki passed the building he felt a certain quickening of the blood. Indeed, on mornings like this full of sunlight and irradiating energy, he felt positively drawn to it so that later it would seem his steps had turned of their own accord to make the detour which enabled him to loiter past on the sticky pavement, eyes trying to pierce the heavy stonework and glimpse esoteric rituals inside. Say what you like about Malomba, he agreed with himself as he finally headed for home with his loaves, it was full of interest and strange things.
    ‘How slow I am this morning,’ Mr