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without water, whether from bamboo or from anywhere else.But in truth, claiming we had no water to drink wasn’t altogether correct, because in Somphoat’s backpack was a full bottle which, no matter what, no one wanted to touch. It was a plastic bottle filled with water from the wallow of a wild boar after we realized we had lost our way. I knew he had that bottle with him all along but had decided that, unless I was on the verge of losing my mind, I wouldn’t take a sip. Water from the mire of a wild boar is not only turbid with mud but also mixed with urine, which might lead to heaven knows what diseases...We went on plodding down the mountain together until, at about nine o’clock, we came to a small open incline. From there what we could see was only jungle ahead, and behind us the ridge we had just come down. Apart from that, the area where we gathered our backpacks was sparsely strewn with fairly small trees where it seemed we could hang our ham- mocks.Anyway, that wasn’t as important as the sound of running water we could hear quite clearly.I asked the two guides and Somphoat, who seemed to be the strongest of us, to gather all the flasks we had and follow the sound of water until they found the stream and then return with full flasks for everyone to drink. After quite a while that small party came back to report that they had found the watershed of the Lang Suan, past the cluster of trees in front of us and less than two hundred metres from where we were resting.However, what they had seen wasn’t the mouth of the Kum stream, but the main arm of that watershed, called Heo Phong Park. The Kum stream was quite a way upstream.Tong and I helped each other figure things out and found that we hadn’tonly lost our way but strayed very far. From a walk of only twelve kilometres which shouldn’t have taken us more than five hours, today we had been walking for about nine hours, which in terms of distance shouldn’t be less than eighteen kilometres, at least six kilometres of which we had covered in darkness, under the rain and on slippery slopes.The rain was still pelting down...I put down my backpack against a tree trunk and pressed my back against it absolutely exhausted.It was exactly as Osho-san claimed... Life is leaving behind what we know to go for what is unknown or unfamiliar to us, in order to travel to a destination we have never met before.Yes... In this world is anyone familiar with the hour that has yet to come? How many can say where the end of the road is for them? A goal can be subjective, but the end of the road assuredly cannot.The more I thought the deeper I sank into thoughts no less steep than the slopes of the ridge.How could I explain to myself that tonight my life had neither goal nor final destination?As soon as they knew the Lang Suan watershed was less than two hundred metres ahead, some of my travel companions felt like staying by the stream, but others didn’t agree, which led to a lengthy argument. Fi- nally, Ooan, who had been sitting quietly, shouted, “Shut up and let Sek’ decide.”When I told my companions in a matter-of-fact voice, “We stay here,” that was the end of the argument and everybody lent a hand to prepare the food and make sleeping arrangements.I couldn’t think why we should move to the waterside since we had no business there, and most of us were tired to the bone.Apart from this, we didn’t haveenough tents and other gear for an overnight stay, which would make setting up camp on the bank rather difficult, not to mention that, given the rain wouldn’t relent, there was the possibility of a flash flood. Here at least the ground was high enough not to be reached by the waters and there were trees to give us some protection from the rain.The fourth and final instalment continues in the next issue of Elite+.About the AuthorSeksan Prasertkul was born in 1949 in the eastern part of Thailand. He received a PhD in political science from Cornell University, USA, and apart from writing, he has served as a lecturer at Thammasat University, Bangkok, during the past 20 years. Seksan rose to prominence in Thailand as both a writer and public figure, and his literary works are considered unique because of their consistency, original style and inspiring thoughts drawn from his direct experiences.Seksan Prasertkul was honoured as a Thai National Artist in the field of literature in 2009.Elite+ 63