Here’s an old post–a related story:
I was living on the outskirts of Katmandu, near the Swayanbu
stupa. A large lugubrious American fellow, with a big black beard,
visited me–we played flutes together.
He brought with him the cap of a human skull
that had been sawed off a lama’s head, he said.
Holes were drilled in the rim so that
incense sticks could be inserted.
He left it behind. So I took it
into town and found him.
‘You forgot your skull,’ I said.
He looked at me lugubriously.
‘It was a gift!’’ he said.
I was stuck with it. After awhile I used it
as an ashtray, later as a teacup.
When I went South I took it with me in
my backpack. I was in a hotel room in
Bombay with some Swedish hippies.
‘That’s not a human skull…it’s a baboon skull,’
they laughed. ‘Tibetans sell them to foolish American
tourists!’
Much relieved I left it behind in the hotel room.
I took the ferry to Goa, where I met
Mr. Lugubrious.
‘Where’s the skull?’ he asked.
I explained it was a fake. ‘It’s a baboon skull,’
I said.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s real.
It’s very holy. It was very expensive. There are no baboons
in Tibet.’
So I took the ferry from Goa back to Bombay and
went back to the hotel room. The
skull was gone…thank heaven!..or
I’d have it yet.
Tibetans play trumpets made of human thigh bones,
but I never tried one.
