Bab 37: Chapter 36: The Path of the Rebel Buddha
The void around them shimmered, pulsating with a rhythm that felt almost alive. Skanda, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of triumph and condemnation, lifted his Vajra. As he did, the infinite darkness around them began to shift and swirl, coalescing into vivid scenes from Surya's past.
Surya watched silently as his memories unfolded before him.
They began innocently enough. He saw himself as a child within the Sacred Land—a golden paradise where the ancient Bodhi trees stretched towards the heavens, their branches laden with wisdom older than the stars. Here, the young Surya was not only the Rebel Buddha but merely a mischievous boy. He darted between monks, playing pranks with a cheeky grin, setting firecrackers under meditation cushions, and dropping lotus petals from the rooftops like a mischievous spirit. The monks, with their serene, aged faces, couldn't help but smile at his antics, although they often chided him to focus on his teachings.
Skanda's voice echoed through the scenes, a low and deliberate rumble. "These were the early days, weren't they, Surya? A child with boundless potential and an unyielding spirit. Even then, your nature was apparent—rebellious, uncontrollable. But these were harmless enough, born from a boy who knew no better."
The memories shifted, scenes flowing like water in a stream. Surya saw himself leaving the Sacred Land, stepping beyond the boundaries of the Bodhi Grove, where the Realm awaited—a vast world filled with endless possibilities and countless dangers.
Skanda's narration continued, a cold edge cutting through his words. "You left the Sacred Land, eager to spread enlightenment to those who could not find it themselves. But the world outside was not what you expected, was it, Surya?"
Surya watched himself travel from village to village, spreading the word of enlightenment. He faced many challenges: skeptics who mocked his youth, bandits who saw a lone monk as an easy target, corrupt lords who resented his truth-telling. He saw himself overcome each obstacle, not with force, but with wisdom, compassion, and an unyielding spirit.
But then, the memories took a darker turn. Surya saw the moment that had defined his path—the moment he had first questioned not only the world but himself.
Along his journey, as he cultivated his Dao, he began to feel an emptiness deep within. He had been born a Buddha, gifted by the world itself, yet he felt something was missing. Who was he, truly? Yes, he was the Buddha—the Rebel Buddha—but who was Surya?
He had traveled far and wide, preaching the Dharma, but in doing so, he had become lost. A Buddha should be content, at peace, but Surya felt none of this. His rebellious nature, his desire to carve his own path, began to take hold. He saw his younger self standing by a riverside, staring at his reflection in the water. His eyes, filled with a deep, restless yearning, seemed to bore into his soul.
Skanda's voice sharpened, dripping with disdain. "And so, it began. The moment a Buddha, who should be the embodiment of enlightenment, grew discontent with his existence. The world gave you everything—a purpose, a path—and yet, you desired more. You wanted freedom. You wanted to be something other than what you were meant to be."
Surya saw himself wandering, the weight of his title and expectations pressing down upon him. Born with everything, yet without anything truly his own—no real friends, no family, no ties to anything but the sacred teachings he began to doubt. For the first time in existence, a Buddha had grown lonely.
Skanda continued, his words sharp as daggers. "These were your first sins, Surya. The moment you questioned your purpose, the moment you defied the natural order bestowed upon you by the world. The teachings you discarded, the path you abandoned—all acts of rebellion against what a Buddha should embody."
The scenes shifted faster now. Surya's memories unfolded rapidly, like pages of a book being frantically flipped through. He saw himself on mountain tops, deep in meditation. Then in bustling cities, where he debated scholars and kings alike. He saw himself save lives, heal the sick, and comfort the dying. Yet, he also saw himself confront tyrants, challenge corrupt priests, and defy the traditions that held others in chains.
The pivotal moments came rushing back—when he first wielded his staff not to guide, but to fight. The first time he took a life, not out of rage or hate, but necessity—a demon terrorizing a village. His eyes cold with resolve, his hands steady, but his soul marked forever.
"The first Buddha to kill," Skanda declared, his voice almost gloating. "The first Buddha to reject the traditional teachings. You are a blasphemy in every sense, Surya. And these, too, are your sins."
The memories grew darker, the colors more muted, almost bleeding into shades of grey. Surya saw himself wandering the ruins of forgotten temples, his expression pained and searching. The more he traveled, the more he realized the truth—his very existence was an anomaly, a contradiction. He was born to spread enlightenment, to embody peace, yet all he saw were conflicts, doubts, and chaos.
"Without realizing it, you began to develop hate," Skanda said, his tone becoming more condescending. "Hate for this world that bore you for a purpose you could not understand. Anger towards yourself for possessing wisdom beyond any being, yet that very wisdom couldn't tell you who you truly were."
Surya watched his memories of despair, the times when he questioned everything. He watched himself sit under trees in isolation, his eyes staring into the distance, longing for a truth he couldn't find in scriptures or teachings. He was a Buddha, but what did that mean when his heart yearned for more than the path laid out for him?
"And so," Skanda continued, his voice almost mocking, "your hatred and anger forged the path of a Rebel Buddha. A Buddha who resented the world for its cruel irony, who desired a freedom beyond what was ordained. You are a contradiction, Surya—a being born of wisdom, yet blind to his own self."
Surya listened, his face stoic but his mind swirling with emotions. Skanda's words were twisted, but not entirely without truth. He had felt those things—anger, doubt, desire. He had sought a path that was his own. But was that truly a sin? Or was it just another step in understanding his existence?
Skanda leaned in closer, his presence overbearing. "You have no say in this, Surya. Your mind, obsessed with a fleeting ideal—an illusion of freedom—has blinded you. You are lost, just as I predicted."
Surya's silence persisted, his eyes no longer on Skanda, but on his own memories. A realization was dawning upon him—something deeper than Skanda's accusations, something that resonated with the core of his being.
And as the realm of Samsara's Mirror began to warp and ripple once more, Surya's eyes burned with a quiet fire, a profound clarity emerging from the chaos.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone