Выбери любимый жанр

Вы читаете книгу


Novykh Anastasia - Sensei of Shambala Sensei of Shambala

Выбрать книгу по жанру

Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
К книге
Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
К книге
Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
К книге
ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
К книге
Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
К книге

Sensei of Shambala - Novykh Anastasia - Страница 9


9
Изменить размер шрифта:

“And still, is it possible to do something against nunchaku?” Andrew repeated his question, obviously provoking the Teacher.

“Of course… For every Vijai there is a Rajah.”

“What?” Andrew asked again, not understanding the last phrase.

“I mean, for every power there is a counter-power. Nunchaku is not an exception.”

“Can you show me?”

“I can, but then it will not be fair, you with nunchaku against me… Take somebody else with you.”

We looked at each other with astonishment. Nevertheless Andrew went along to look for a partner, and our company to look for the second weapon. To our regret there were no more nunchaku. Instead of that, we found a lot of two-meter-long poles in the sports equipment room.

But although we found weapons fairly easily, fin ding a partner for Andrew was more difficult. Senior guys flatly refused the proposal to take part in this fight and laughed: “No, thanks, guy. You’d better do it alone.”

Finally, Andrew managed to convince a man among the newcomers. Meanwhile, Sensei was peacefully chattering with that skinny old man in the white kimono.

“Here, I found one!” Andrew happily announced to the Teacher.

“You have found one, great. Let senior sempai second us. At his clap, start to attack with full contact. Is that clear?”

That was all Andrew was waiting for. He nodded with obvious pleasure. Sensei walked out into the middle. Andrew stood facing Sensei, and the man with the pole chose a position from the rear right of Sensei. It came to a thrilling moment. All participants were battle-ready, except Sensei. He was standing relaxed, thinking about something and slightly playing with the tips of his black belt, embroidered with gold hieroglyphs.

At the senior sempai’s clap, Andrew zealously rushed into a frontal attack, spinning his nunchaku with the speed of the blades of a working propeller. Meanwhile, the other man jumped up quickly and started striking with the pole. What happened next happened in an instant. Sensei hadn’t changed his position from the moment the attack was begun but rather kept standing in a deeply thoughtful pose. As soon as his opponents achieved a critical distance with regards to his body, he, without changing his stance, quickly threw his hand forward… if “threw” is the right word because in reality his hand shot out like an attacking snake. The nunchaku folded, spun on it, and flew towards the second fighter. The Teacher accompanied them with a twist of his wrist, slightly changing the trajectory of the flight. The nunchaku made half a turn in the air, aligned, and like the butt-end of a stick, hit the exact middle of the forehead of the man attacking from behind. The second nunchaku’s stick, continuing its flight, hit the pole. And the pole, correspondingly changing its trajectory of movement, hit Andrew right in the head. As a result, two unsuccessful fighters clumsily fell down to the floor, not even realizing what happened. And Sensei continued to stand thoughtfully, as if all the turmoil around had clearly nothing to do with him. And then, having come to himself, he asked his “opponents” with care:

“How are you, guys? Did you get hurt badly?”

“No,” Andrew answered confused, intensively massaging a puffed out bump on his forehead. “It’s all right.”

The other man also nodded.

“I am sorry, I miscalculated a bit,” apologized Sensei. Coming up to his previous interlocutor, he said, as if nothing had happened, “You know, I have a great idea! What if…”

Meanwhile, observing the fight, the crowd buzzed in discussion with noises of laughter and amazement about such a quick fight. And one of the senior guys whom Andrew had asked to help said with laughter, “Yeah right, Sensei miscalculated, aha! Don’t worry, guys, that’s all right. We went through such ‘miscalculations’ already many times, and all due to our own stupidity.”

When Andrew realized what had happened, he simply tormented Kostya and Slava with the same question: “How can that be? One movement… not even a strike?!” Kostya perplexedly answered, “How can we know? Sensei is over there, ask him.”

But the Teacher was always busy until the end of the training, first demonstrating new techniques, then showing complicated strikes to the senior guys, then answering endless questions, and at the end of the training talking to the old man. However, Andrew made up his mind to clear that up right then, no matter how.

We got that chance only when the supplementary training was over. We quickly changed and waited at the exit, like guards, as we decided to get what we wanted. But it turned out that Igor Mikhailovich and his guys were going towards the same tram stop. On the way, we started our interrogations.

“How did you manage to best two armed opponents with only one movement?” Andrew asked his sore question.

“Well, weapons have nothing to do with it. This is the technique of using the opponent’s force. By the way, it is used in many other styles, for example, Aikido, Jiu-Jutsu, Wing Chun, and others. You need only to catch a moment and use it right away.”

“In general it’s clear, but in this case, what style did you use?”

“Nothing special,” cunningly answered Sensei, shrugging his shoulders, “a little bit of everything.”

“But still?” queried Andrew.

“Well, here all you have to know is the physical law of acceleration, distribution of the gravity center in biomechanics, and a little bit of the Snake style.”

“Oho!” whistled Andrew.

“And what did you think? All great things are ridiculously simple, but it takes a lot of hard work to master them.

While Andrew was thinking over that phrase, Slava quickly asked, “Is it possible to explain that case with the spoon?”

“Of course, it is possible,” Sensei said with a smile. “There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.”

“So, what was that?”

“Ah, just trifles. There is nothing special in ordinary Qigong, or rather one of its modifications.”

“And what is ‘Qigong’?” Now it was my turn to ask a question.

“I’ve read somewhere that it is just a breathing technique,” Kostya added.

“Yes, many people think so,” replied Igor Mikhailovich. “But in reality, Qigong is a meditative and breathing system that allows a person to master his hidden psycho-physical potential. Though in fact it is one of the simplest types of spiritual practices.”

That phrase roused the interest of our company and something trembled inside of me after these words. But as soon as I opened my mouth to ask about how we could learn it, Kostya squeezed in with his favorite manner of verbiage: “Well, ’If but a friendly hint be thrown / 'Tis easier than to feel one's way.’”

“Oh, you like Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, do you?” demanded Igor Mikhailovich. “Then, if you’ve read carefully, he also said the following: ‘Now of the wise man's words I learn the sense: / Unlock'd the spirit-world is lying, / Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead! / Up scholar, lave, with zeal undying, / Thine earthly breast in the morning-red!’”

At that moment, you should have seen the surprise on Kostya’s face. He was so much impressed by these words that he wasn’t able to immediately find the right answer. That was the first person in his life (except his parents, of course) who talked to him at his ‘high intellectual’ level. “It serves him right,” I gloated in my thoughts. “He used to pose as the only man of great erudition in this world.”

“I’ve read quite a lot of books,” our ‘Philosopher’ started to defend himself, more trying to uphold his pride rather carrying on the topic of the discussion. “And it was written there that the spiritual world is only a fairy tale for kids.”

“Who knows,” Sensei said indifferently, continuing to quote Goethe, “’Parchment, is that the sacred fount whence roll / Waters, he thirsteth not who once hath quaffed? / Oh, if it gush not from thine inmost soul, / Thou has not won the life-restoring draught.’”