Empty Hand Revolution

A Meeting in the Jungle

Cosmo stared overhead at the small patch of clouds visible through the jungle canopy. The distant buzz of a Jeep lapped at his ears as if riding on ripples of humidity. A macaw stretched out its wings and lifted from its perch. With three powerful strokes, it disappeared through the gap in the canopy.

The freedom of flight washed over Cosmo. He felt the imagery in his bones. His people would never fly as part of India. They had been unjustly invaded by hostile forces infinitely larger than their own. The Naga had been at war with this Goliath for nearly half a century, and yet they had not bowed their neck or bent their knee.

He knew they would never surrender. How can a people who have never been conquered, a people who view each other as equals, settle for anything less than freedom and equality?

Gradually the buzz of the Jeep grew into the growl of half a dozen Jeeps. Cosmo sat, legs crossed, his sword in his lap. It was the least alert posture within his martial arts training.

To squat or to recline on one’s knees enabled the warrior to quickly leap to his feet and draw his sword. To sit cross-legged meant total trust in the safety of one’s surroundings. It indicated this meeting was to be between family.

As the Jeeps grew loud enough to overpower the natural sounds of the jungle, Cosmo closed his eyes and focused on teasing the more subtle sounds out of hiding. The nearby river remained the loudest jungle voice. A monkey screeched—the only large animal undeterred by so much human activity.

Then, one by one, the Jeeps skid to a sudden stop and killed their engines. After the last one died, Cosmo heard the creaks and pops of the cooling vehicles. He opened his eyes. He recognized one of the men from the cafe on Ring Road in Delhi.

This was a man of action. The man’s movements revealed as much. Cosmo connected with him at an elementary level. He felt honored to share such company. Perhaps these men were part of the solution for bringing freedom to the Naga. Cosmo wondered if God had preserved his life for this reason.

To Cosmo’s surprise, the meeting began with tea, even in the midst of the jungle. His hosts explained that such subtleties set them apart from the animals. They drank politely, but quickly. Without further delay, they transitioned to the business at hand.

The questions were simple and broad, offered to encourage Cosmo to share his thoughts in their entirety. While he spoke, the Naga revolutionaries listened. For two hours, Cosmo addressed their increasingly detailed inquiries until the conversation came to a sudden stop.

The lead delegate rose from the jungle floor and stretched. The rest followed, as did Cosmo. The troops revered their leader, giving him their highest regard. Cosmo did not doubt the men would offer their lives to save the man they served.

“Thank you for your words.” The man bowed slightly.

Cosmo bowed lower.

“You have surprising wisdom and cunning insight for such a young warrior. You would make a valuable addition to the party.”

Cosmo shuddered. He had not anticipated such an unfettered invitation. A significant part of him leaped at the thought. But as he breathed deeply, he sensed the inflation of his pride. He did not want to make such an important decision based on an emotional response to flattery.

Plus, his studies had convinced him a direct military approach would never succeed against India. The last two years in Delhi had led him further from the jungle warrior of his adolescence.

“I am honored to be considered worthy.” Cosmo finally rose from his bowed position. “But such an important invitation would be disparaged by a quick response.”

The man nodded. “The invitation is an open one. Thank you for your efforts to meet us for this short time.” He motioned to the others. “Speaking of time, we’ve been still for too long.”

With an economy of movement learned only through years of jungle combat, the soldiers mounted their vehicles and disappeared within seconds, save for the dissipating mechanical growl of their Jeeps.

Cosmo remained in place until the growl faded to a mosquito buzz. Finally, in ripples, it disappeared all together. He pulled a hunk of smoked pork from his pocket and turned toward the village where he grew up.

The time was just past noon. If he hurried, he would arrive at his parents’ door before dark—assuming he didn’t encounter the need to draw the sword dangling from his belt.

With each stride, the sword slapped lightly against his thigh, comforting him. The jungle comforted him. The thought of home comforted him.

While the decision before him was an important one, he would not be anxious over making it. Either way, opportunity awaited.