White-faced Anger

Inspired by Tina’s “Red-faced Anger” blog.

956 days ago… in a Milkyway galaxy like this one.

I got very angry once in India… “Dishonorable animal from hell bastards!” I said to one of them with intent of killing him on the spot. His call-sign for me changed from dirty-looks and ignorant-grunts to “sir” with a-tail-between-his-legs smile as he knew his life was in real danger. My friends and dear master Phra Mana were shocked to see my killer eyes for the first time. According to their recollections, they felt my anger standing from the other side of airport security glass. My face was white-cold, that of a serial killer with no touch of red. My posture and behaviors no longer identifiable as Phra Mick.

I literally had enough of India after 3 weeks of constantly running into first-degree graduates of high-precision beggars :- with unparalleled devotion to machination plots, tumbling even those of Batman’s latest Joker. I saw the anger built up many times during the trip and I had always been aware of it… this explosion at Calcutta Airport was no different, but being a little curious about this emotion as it kept knocking on the door for 3 weeks, plus the fact that I had not been angry for 4 years since my monk-hood, I was tired of holding back. So I just let the fire fuel itself and watched what happened. My senses went from calm to hostile-alert, hot and focused. Every thought/plot came to mind were uncaring and destructive. While fixed on the head-gate security I wanted to kill, my eyes quickly swept across the room scanning for weapons and I saw a rifle held by an old guard sitting down. I hate rifles. Its long shaped bullets flip and cut through flesh taring off limbs resulting in quick deaths which I did not want him to experience.

Annoyingly… “Sir please come this way sir. You’ve been cleared sir, please proceed through the gate sir. No trouble sir.  Please sir… this way sir… no trouble sir.” they were all shouting. For some magical reason, all the fuss and mishaps leading to some overweight luggage fines payable by cash were dismissed and I was free to go.  Fines are a way of life for certain visitors of India, averagely I was fined 0.75 rupee for every breath of air I took.  The shouting triggered a memory of a pre-Phra Mick that carried a barrel-rusted 78 year-old Luger9mm Parabellum German-Nazi for looks with a Glock-17 backup about to do something heart-scaring and regrettably stupid.  The piano fell on the burning anger and I immediately snapped out of it.  I was surprised… often I would need a straight zen to pry out of something this real and deep.

I was very angry for 3 minutes, but it felt like a day.  The quantum frequencies of Hell.  They say “Time flies when you’re having fun” this was the exact opposite.  My shocked friends and master remained shocked long after the anger subsided. There were a lot of data to collect from watching the anger. The fire beautiful, selflessly accelerating towards thoughts of strategy, weaponry and war, similar to Bruce Lee’s statement “It hits all by itself”. It was making me clear, making me fly but burning holes in my friends’ hearts and not to mention browned up the inner-pants of one Indian man. The fall from the height of it was painful and the repercussions were long lasting. However, it would not be the last time I tasted this emotion.

I later found out I was one of the ones who helped invaded and looted the country. Belittled its people, meddled with their ways of life, conquered them, used them as servants and shitted all over the whole damn place. A Imperialic Karma paid only a fraction of the price.

So by realising this balance, it was easier for me to understand and let go of future annoyances. It ended the “why me” in the mind.


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