Lobsang Rampa - The Cave of the Ancients

The Cave of the Ancients - (Originally published in 1963) A small glimpse into past history of the Earth and its inhabitants who hid highly technical equipment which to this day remains hidden. Lobsang with his Guide, the great Lama Mingyar Dondup, get's to visit where this technology is hidden and sees with his own eyes this wondrous equipment. This technology is waiting for those who can use it for the benefit of mankind and that time is drawing near.

It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.

This is a book about the Occult, and about the powers of Man. It is a simple book in that there are no "foreign words," no Sanskrit, nothing of dead languages. The average person wants to KNOW things, does not want to guess at words which the average Author does not understand either! If an Author knows his job he can write in English without having to disguise lack of knowledge by use of a foreign language.

Too many people get caught up in mumbo jumbo. The laws of Life are simple indeed; there is no need at all to dress them up with mystic cults or pseudo religions. Nor is there need for anyone to claim "divine revelations." ANYONE can have the same "revelations" if they work for it.

No one religion holds the Keys of Heaven, nor will one be forever damned because he enters a church with his hat on instead of his shoes off. In Tibet lamasery entrances bear the inscription "A thousand monks, a thousand religions." Believe what you will, if it embraces "do as you would be done by" you will GET by when the final Call comes.

Some say that Inner Knowledge can only be obtained by joining this cult or that cult, and paying a substantial subscription too. The Laws of Life say, 'Seek, and you shall find. '

This book is the fruit of a long life, training culled from the greater Lamaseries of Tibet and from powers which were gained by a very close adherence to the Laws. This is knowledge taught by the Ancients of old, and is written in the Pyramids of Egypt, in the High Temples of the Andes, and the greatest repository of Occult knowledge in the world, the Highlands of Tibet.

T. LOBSANG RAMPA

The evening was warm, deliciously, unusually warm for the time of the year. Gently rising on the windless air, the sweet scent of incense gave tranquility to our mood. Far away the sun was setting in a blaze of glory behind the high peaks of the Himalayas, tinting the snow-clad mountain tops a blood red as if in warning of the blood which would drench Tibet in the days to come.

Lengthening shadows crept slowly towards the City of Lhasa from the twin peaks of the Potala and our own Chakpori. Below us, to the right, a belated caravan of traders from India wended their way to the Pargo Kaling, or Western Gate. The last of the devout pilgrims hurried with unseemly haste on their circuit of the Lingkhor Road, as if afraid of being overtaken by the velvet darkness of the fast approaching night.

The Kyi Chu, or Happy River, ran merrily along on its endless journey to the sea, throwing up blight flashes of light as tribute to the dying day. The City of Lhasa was agleam with the golden glow of butter lamps. From the nearby Potala a trumpet sounded at the end of the day its notes rolling and echoing across the Valley, rebounding from rock surfaces, and returning to us with altered timbre.

I gazed at the familiar scene, gazed across at the Potala, hundreds of windows atwinkle as monks of all degree went about their business at the close of the day. At the top of the immense building, by the Golden Tombs, a solitary figure, lonely and remote, stood watching. As the last rays of the sun sank below the mountain ranges, a trumpet sounded again, and the sound of deep chanting rose from the Temple below. Swiftly the last vestiges of light faded; swiftly the stars in the sky became a blaze of jewels set in a purple background. A meteor flashed across the sky and flared into a burst of final flaming glory before falling to the Earth as a pinch of smoking dust.

"A beautiful night, Lobsang! " said a well-loved voice. "A beautiful night, indeed, " I replied as I swiftly rose to my feet in order that I might bow to the Lama Mingyar Dondup. He sat by the side of a wall and motioned for me to sit also. Pointing upwards, he said, "Do you realise that people, you, and I, may look like that? " I gazed at him dumbly, how could I look like stars in the night sky? The Lama was a big man, handsome, and with a noble head. Even so, he did not look like a collection of stars. He laughed at my bemused expression. "Literal as usual, Lobsang, literal as usual, " he smiled. "I meant to imply that things are not always what they seem. If you wrote 'Om! ma-ni pad-me Hum' so large that it filled the whole Valley of Lhasa, people would not be able to read it, it would be too large for them to grasp. " He stopped and looked at me to make sure that I was following his explanation and then continued, "In the same way the stars are 'so large' that we cannot determine what they really form. "

I looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. The stars forming something? They werewell stars! Then I thought of writing so large that it filled the Valley, and so became unreadable because of its size. The gentle voice went on, "Think of yourself shrinking, shrinking, becoming as small as a grain of sand. How would I look to you then? Suppose you became even smaller, so small that the grain of sand was as large as a world to you. Then what would you see of me? " He stopped and looked piercingly at me. "Well? " he asked "what would you see? " I sat there and gaped, brain paralysed at the thought, mouth open like a newly landed fish.

"You would see, Lobsang, " the Lama said, "a group of widely dispersed worlds floating in darkness. Because of your small size you would see the molecules of my body as separate worlds with immense space in between. You would see worlds rotating around worlds, you would see 'suns' which were the molecules of certain psychic centres, you would see a universe! " My brain creaked, I would almost swear that the 'machinery' above my eyebrows gave a convulsive shudder with all the effort I was expending in order to follow all this strange, exciting knowledge.

My Guide, the Lama Mingyar Dondup reached forward and gently raised my chin. "Lobsang! " he chuckled, "your eyes are becoming crossed with the effort to follow me. " He sat back, laughing, and gave me a few moments in which to recover somewhat. Then he said, "Look at the material of your robe. Feel it! " I did so, feeling remarkably foolish as I gazed at the tattered old garment I wore. The Lama remarked, "It is cloth, somewhat smooth to the touch. You cannot see through it. But imagine seeing it through a glass which magnified it by ten. Think of the thick strands of yak wool, each strand ten times thicker than you see it here. You would be able to see light between the strands. But magnify it by a million and you would be able to ride a horse through it, except that each strand would be too huge to climb over! "

It made sense to me, now that it was pointed out. I sat and thought, nodding, as the Lama said, "Like a decrepit old woman! " "Sir! " I said at last, "then all life is a lot of space sprinkled with worlds. " "Not quite so simple as that, " he replied, "but sit more comfortably and I will tell you a little of the Knowledge we discovered in the Cave of the Ancients. " "Cave of the Ancients! " I exclaimed, full of avid curiosity, "you were going to tell me about that and the Expedition! " "Yes! Yes! " he soothed, "so I will, but first let us deal with Man and Life as the Ancients in the days of Atlantis believed them to be. "