This morning, Sensei introduced a rather unusual guest to the monks. He was a tall, frail, thin man in a white, monkish costume. Sensei called him Fever Monk!
Fever Monk bowed to everyone and said, “I was a monk here, just like you, many years ago; the year Sensei had taken charge of the Monastery. That year itself, a deadly fever broke out and Sensei asked all of us monks to apply a medicinal balm on ourselves. The balm would prevent us from being bitten by the fever-causing mosquitoes.
All the monks, except me applied the balm. Now, you may ask me, ‘Why didn’t I apply the balm?’ Well, let me tell you. One night, just before sleeping, I saw Sensei lying down before Buddha. There were many mosquitoes attacking Sensei, but Sensei did not move. After a while, the mosquitoes vanished and Sensei went to bed. That night, I realized that the mosquitoes had feasted on Sensei’s magical powers and if I did not apply the balm, these mosquitoes would attack me and infect me with some of Sensei’s powers! Maybe I would get some fever, but the thought of being blessed with a little bit of Sensei’s magic was too much for me to resist.
A few days later I came down with a fever. Unlike what I expected, this was a death fever. All my insides began to bleed themselves out. The last I remembered was that I was lying in a room next to Sensei, whose blood was being transfused into me. Even as I slipped into a coma I thought that my end goal had been achieved.
It took me a few months to recover from my coma and when I could manage myself, Sensei asked me to leave the Monastery. I had disobeyed him and this was the agreed penalty. What also broke my heart was that nothing magical had blossomed in me. Even though I had received a direct transfusion of Sensei’s blood, I had not changed. In fact, I had become weaker and more frail, and remain so, even today.”
Sensei seemed moved but did not say anything.
Fever Monk concluded by saying, “For the past forty years, I have chased those mosquitoes and travelled with them to the farthest corners of the world. They have continued to sting and infect communities. But I have educated and distributed medicinal balm to helpless people and prevented them from dying by Death Fever. That has been my repentance and my meditation.”
Sensei clapped twice and said, “One must understand that by eating or drinking something that Buddha has tasted, you cannot instantly become a Buddha. Even if you were to directly receive Buddha’s blood, you would not change. You have to become a Buddha on your own terms.”
The monks had a serious look on their face. Inquisitive Monk asked Fever Monk, “Sir, did you understand why Sensei himself did not come down with a fever?”
This time Fever Monk’s face lit up and he said, “Yes! I did. Sensei traded his good karma with the death karma of the mosquitoes, so that they would spare us, the monks. The mosquitoes were feasting on Sensei’s karma, not his blood… and that fact took me forty years to realise….”
*****
