Short story: The Dalai Lama and the billiard table

Harry wiped the sweat from his brow as he climbed the steep steps to the monastery. The Tibetan sun beat down mercilessly on the Western suit he wore despite the heat. After all, he was a businessman through and through. In his briefcase were catalogues of his latest collection of billiard tables, specially selected for this particular client: His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama.

Weeks earlier, Harry had learned from his contact in Dharamsala, a local tea merchant, that the spiritual leader of the Tibetans was a keen pool player. This information was a godsend to Harry. As the owner of Harry's Billiards, he had already sold to a wide range of customers, from nightclub owners to Arab sheikhs. But the Dalai Lama would be the coup of his life.

"Namaste", he greeted a young monk at the entrance to the monastery. The monk smiled kindly and returned the greeting as he led Harry into a plainly furnished waiting room.

After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and an older monk invited Harry to enter. The room he was led into was surprisingly modest. Sunlight streamed in through large windows, illuminating the few pieces of furniture: a few cushions on the floor, a low table and, to Harry's surprise, an old pool table in the corner.

The Dalai Lama sat cross-legged on a raised cushion, surrounded by some of his closest confidants, and greeted Harry with a warm smile. "Welcome, dear Harry. I understand you have travelled a long way to see me?"

Harry bowed deeply and sat down on the cushion offered. "Your Holiness, I am honoured to be here. I hear you like to play billiards?"

The Dalai Lama laughed heartily. "Ah, you've heard of my old friend over there?" He pointed to the pool table. "It was given to me many years ago by a British diplomat."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Then perhaps I can introduce you to our latest collection? We have tables with hand-carved legs of Tibetan oak, slate tops from the finest quarries..."

The Dalai Lama raised his hand gently. "Dear Harry, let us pause for a moment. – Why do you think a human being plays billiards?"

The question took Harry by surprise. "Well, for entertainment, of course. To relax. To pass the time."

"Pastime", the Dalai Lama repeated thoughtfully. "An interesting word. Passing the time. – As if time were something to be chased away, like an uninvited guest."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his pillow. He had never thought of it that way.

The Dalai Lama smiled softly and shook his head. "Billiards, my friend, is a game. And games can often distract us from what is really important in life. Why do you think I need a billiard table?"

Harry was perplexed. He had never considered that billiards could distract people from their inner values. But he was a shrewd businessman and he wasn't going to be defeated so easily. "But Your Holiness", he replied, "billiards can also be a way of promoting fellowship and friendship. It helps to bring people together."

The Dalai Lama nodded in understanding. "Yes, community is important, but there are many ways to live it together. There is mediation, dialogue, shared cooking, even shared silence. – Where is the value in a game that reduces us to a table when life has so much more to offer? – You see, dear Harry, in Buddhist teachings we strive for mindfulness, for full awareness in the present moment. If we play to pass the time, aren't we running away from the now?"

"But", Harry objected, "billiards is also a sport of concentration, of precision..."

"Certainly", the Dalai Lama nodded. "But it often becomes an escape. People lose themselves in the game instead of finding themselves. They become dependent on the brief joy of a successful shot, instead of cultivating true inner satisfaction."

Harry, now somewhat frustrated, looked down at his catalogues. His perfectly prepared sales pitch now seemed meaningless.

The Dalai Lama stood up and walked over to the old pool table. "Do you know why I kept this table? – Not to play with! It reminds me of how easily we can lose ourselves in worldly pleasures. Every time I see it, I think about how many people spend their lives chasing a ball. Whether it be billiards or in the figurative sense."

Harry felt increasingly uncomfortable. His business idea suddenly seemed absurd.

But then something struck him. "Your Holiness, I see the colour of the old cloth has faded."

The Dalai Lama looked at the yellowed billiard cloth. "Yes, too much sun leaves its mark."

"You know", Harry said carefully, "we have a particularly fine cloth. It's made from the finest merino wool, very durable and..." He paused and smiled. "In fact, it would make a wonderful robe."

The Dalai Lama raised an interested eyebrow. "A robe?"

"Yes", Harry said, pulling a sample of cloth from his pocket. "This cloth is perfect for a monk's robe. It breathes and is very strong. And it comes in many colours."

The Dalai Lama's eyes lit up for the first time during the conversation. He picked up the sample, ran it through his fingers and felt the smooth texture. "This is truly remarkable!" he said. "It could make a really beautiful garment, embodying both the simplicity and beauty we strive for in life. Are the colours saffron red, golden yellow, blue and green available?"

"Of course, yes!" Harry assured him, nodding in confirmation.

After careful consideration, the Dalai Lama decided to purchase the cloth. Not for a table, but for new robes. "That's a wonderful idea and I thank you very much for it, Harry."

An hour later, Harry left the monastery with a large order of many yards of cloth. Harry walked down the steps of the monastery with a huge smile on his face. He hadn't sold a pool table, but he had gained something far more valuable: a lesson in wisdom and the insights of a man who saw the world in a very different way. Harry felt that the conversation with the Dalai Lama was also a lesson about life and its true values.

A few months later, Harry received a photo from Dharamsala. It showed the Dalai Lama in a beautiful, colourful robe, with his characteristic smile. On the back was written in neat handwriting: "Sometimes you find enlightenment in the most unexpected places, even at a pool table."

Harry framed the photo and hung it in his office. It reminded him that the best sale isn't always the one you planned, and that true wisdom often lies in letting go of your original intentions.

In the years that followed, Harry often told this story in his billiards showroom. Sometimes, when a customer spoke too enthusiastically about the importance of the game, Harry would remember the words of the Dalai Lama and gently ask: "Why do you think you need a billiard table?"

The old billiard table still stands in the monastery, its yellowed cloth a silent witness to that special encounter. And when visitors ask why the Dalai Lama has a pool table, the monks smile and tell the story of the billiard dealer who came to sell and left to learn.

© "The Dalai Lama and the billiard table: Where is the value in a game when life has so much more to offer?". A short story by Izabel Comati, 12/2024. Image credit: 14th Dalai Lama (Creator: janeb13 by Pixabay), CC0 (Public Domain Licence).