The Secret Tibet (The Forbidden world)

As imagined by Joseph Brean, National Post

MONDAY

Big surprise. China angry. Very very outrage. Same old, same old. How many time I make tour America? How many time I shake hands Bill Clinton, George Bush, Richard Gere? Every time, Beijing, "This seriously damage relations with China. Dalai Lama is serpent head. Dalai Lama is cat's paw." Sound silly, my opinion. What is "cat's paw" anyway? Chinese people sometime speak so bad English.

TUESDAY

In Canada now. Canadians love Dalai Lama. More fun Catholic priest or Anglican vicar, I guess. Thousands come hear me talk. Afterwards, woman brings little daughter to me, asks me to bless her. Best part of Dalai Lama job, just warms heart. I kneel in front of the girl and said, "You are the enlightened one, I am the child." I thought that was nice, but poor thing look terrified, say: "Mommy, Yoda's mad at me." Must remember, no mystic stuff around the kiddies.

WEDNESDAY

Meet Canada Prime Minister Stephen Harper yesterday. Shake my hand. Chat few minutes. See, Beijing? No big deal. Nice guy, roly-poly like Buddha, but not much sense humour. Better than George Bush, though. Such chucklehead, that guy. Meet him last week, tells me, "Dally, I've been thinking, and I think I got it. Ready? It does make a sound because the bears and squirrels hear it." Then he look at me like puppy waiting for ball. "The tree. You know, that falls in the forest," he said. I say nothing, only sneeze. I think maybe president wears Old Spice. He say, "God bless you. I mean, Buddha bless you. I think. Wadda y'all say when you sneeze over there in Nepal?" "Tibet," I said.

"Tee-bet, huh?" he said. "Well, Tee-bet to you, your Holiness. Can I getcha a Sudafed?"

THURSDAY

Yesterday, meet Canada opposition leader. Jack Layton very talking. Talking talking. Learn art silence, I tell him. Gilles Duceppe seem so angry, like cranky old neighbour don't like nobody. Learn art empathy I tell him. Meantime, Stephane Dion seem timid, like little girl lose mommy. Ask me question: "I am like you the leader of a people what has been exiled from power. Bot' of us are being manpyooLAYted by n'EEEvil dicTAYtor. You since longer, maybe, but neider of us will go to election anytime soon. Tell me, how do you find peace in da middle of all dis?" "Heeheehee," I said. "You talk funny. Me too, I guess, but I reincarnation. Tibetan Buddhists got no choice. How you get elected?"

FRIDAY

Flying back to my government-in-exile in India. No more America for a while. No more Britney and the kids, no more Hillary and Obama, no more Dog the Bounty Hunter is a racist. (First Mel Gibson, then Kramer now Dog!What I going to watch now?) Stewardess taps my shoulder as I trying to meditate, says we about to land in New Delhi. Says put on seat belt. Dalai Lama cranky now, feeling smartass. Buddhist smartass dangerous thing. I say maybe Delhi rising to meet us, what about that? She say makes no difference, look out window, see lots buildings. I say if I look long enough out window, window also looks into Dalai Lama. She say, "Whatever," and moves along, collecting headsets. "Fine, I buckle up," I say in my angry voice. But you hear that? That the sound of one-hand clapping. Sound like middle finger, no?

© National Post 2007