In martial arts novels, the protagonists have always had a romantic story in the cave. I have only one night horn in the night. Since then, I will never understand why it is favored by the authors in the narrow, humid and dark caves. To be honest, the feeling of living in a cave is really bad.

There are many practices in Tibet. The well -known ones are rich and practiced. It is a large place of practice. It is located at the mountainside 15 kilometers northeast of Sangye Temple in Shannan. I have never been to Qingpu practice place. I went to Zhaba, who was more than 40 kilometers southeast of Lhasa.

In the spring of 1994, friends unknowingly moved out of the outing. Tibetan poet Dorje proposed to go to practice place. He knew that he went out of the Lhasa Bridge to continue to have a practice place to east. He didn't know how to leave.

Dorji speaks of the "Mandarin" of Qinghai who doesn't understand well. His Tibetan language is very good, and Tibetan language is a grammatical language. Therefore, when he is learning Chinese I often suspect that his Chinese composition is much better than me. Until now, I can't determine what his Chinese writing is, because except for translation, he only uses Tibetan to create.

After simple preparation, Doori found a sleeping bag and bought something to eat.

At the time of departure, it was in the morning. Duoji, Feng Shaohua, Feng Shaohua is a reporter, and the calligraphy is also very good. He has produced a lot of paddles in Tibet for about ten years. Deji Zhuoga and me, Deji Zhuoga just graduated from the Central National College (formerly the predecessor of the Central University for Nationalities), she was my best girlfriend in Lhasa. Essence Last year, when I saw her, she was already the mother of a ten -year -old boy and a very good journalist, and was still very shy.

That morning, under the guidance of Dorji, we took a bus after leaving the city, and took about four hours along the soil road of Panshan. In the village under the mountain, we finally rented a few donkeys When the donkey was thrown away again, we saw the mountains like the wall, barely seeing that the small buildings with colors in the middle of the mountain were close to the dusk. Climb up and find a place to live.

The residence we can find on the mountainside can only be a abandoned practice hole. It is about three or four square meters. It is covered with dust. There is a dirt on the left side of the door. A small sunroof is opened on the stone wall. Like all mountains in the mountains, the windows are open, no glass inlaid or no obstruction. Dorji asked the lama in the small temple to ask a three -centimeter -long candle head, and there was no light at a small meeting.

The night when I lived in the cave was my deep memory all night, and I felt just restless and uncomfortable. That night, the two men gave me a good place and Dejizhua, let us live on the platform.

The tablet was cold and hard, and the sheep dung underneath was very nice through the sleeping bag, and the nostrils and faces were "fluttering" and "fluttering".

The key is fear. Darkness and natural sounds and winds from Dashan make us suspicious. The two of them slept on the ground, because close to the sunroof, they had the pride of gentlemen, as if they had blocked the threat from the outside world, and the fast wooden board that was barely called the door was actually a decoration. Essence Although it is fatigue, it is difficult to fall asleep. For a moment, we have to analyze whether the particles coming in from the sunroof are throwing stones or winding in the wind. Moreover, everyone is focusing on hiding their respects and controlling their tone.

Just like the means of restraining the darkness after the power outage is often speaking, we also speak, saying and speaking, we have fallen into the trap of telling the ghost story ... I actually hurried time to dream before everyone stopped talking. I dreamed that two men with long hair and wearing dirty clothes sat in the cave. One of them lowered her head and bleed on her face. They said: This is their place, let's go out When they came out, Duo Ji groaned and said, maybe they were the people who practiced here ... and then we fell into the thinking about this problem, and gradually fell asleep ...

In the early morning of the next day, we woke up in the sound of chanting. At that time, the moisture had not returned to the air and the air was fresh. We found the sound of the magic weapon and the fragrance of Berang and found some practitioners. There are men and women.

Most of the people who avoid the world here are not officially monks. The living environment of the Tibetans is not optimistic, but when choosing to practice, it is not like our imagination of those who we have. Or how unfortunate love is, watching the red dust monk as a niche, so that all the relationships with friends and relatives ... For example, most men are because of hate what they hate, anyway, they seem to be a unfortunate, stimulating talent, and the Buddha. End.

It was only after Tibet that people in the Tibetan area have always treated their monks and practice calmly. Sometimes they are just a lifestyle that chooses temporarily, just like people in the city choose vacations. During the practice period, whether it is a monk or a monk's practice. Those who keep a close connection with the family.

Cha Yeba is a small place of practice. Introduction to the unknown small temple in the middle of the mountainside. When there are many people here, there are about seventy or eighty people practice. At that time, we only had about twenty people on the mountain. The food may be delivered regularly by the family, or it may be on the back of the mountain for a few hours. The most common food for butter is the ravioli.

When we came back, we rented the tractors of the villagers under the foot of the mountain. The mountain road was very bumpy. Dorji was fatter. Leaning on the car fight, the car laughed at him. We told us that it was very painful and uncomfortable. Crying is not as good as crying, and he smiles because of pain.

One year later, Duoji became my boyfriend. After four years after the mad and restless nervousness, it was like a long sports competition and no victory. Everyone ran for seven years. After that, the four years and the very "poet" poet, like a footprint in the desert, left, but left the nostalgia for Dorji's father, Turban.