Y'dig?

The Legend of Dagad Trikon

Notice the commonality of myth – a well trodden path of course, by people like C.J. Jung. King Arthur equates to Lord Rama in Hindu mythology – both being just and good kings. The writer, Grégoire de Kalbermatten, author of many books including his magnificent saga, the novel The Legend of Dagad Trikon visited  Ankhor Vat in Cambodia, and found there direct evidence of the same Arthurian myth. On pages 242/243 of the paperback edition of Dagad Trikon he writes:

…. do you recall our trip to Cambodia with the American archaeological team? I explained the scene described by the statues at the main entrance of the temple of Ankhor Vat to you. The Titans, the Asuras, having churned the ocean of milk, fought the Gods to receive the drink called soma or amrit.” She became progressively more excited as the intuition came to her.
No one noticed the white monkey watching them. He was sitting on the balustrade and grinning appreciatively at the progress of the young woman. It was, in fact, quite normal that they could not see him since he was in his subtle form, invisible to them now that they had regained their body of flesh.

Lakshmi spoke hurriedly.
“In Western mythology, the Knights of the Round Table have to accomplish a noble errand. Parcival looks for the Grail and Sir Galahad finds it. The Grail is a goblet, a cup containing the blood of Christ.”

“Yes, sure,” interrupted Ivan, somewhat surprised. “But what has this to do with your nest in the sari of the Goddess?”
“Everything. Christ came for the entire world, not just for the Christians. When he offered his blood on the cross, he was, I am sure, giving us a powerful symbol. He wanted us to find something more. He did say after his resurrection that the Holy Spirit would reveal all things. What was to be revealed? The Knights of the Round Table focused on the cup because his blood came from the heavens. This is, I believe, the myth of the Holy Grail: it was for us an invitation to seek this blessed state I just felt. It is a state in which my spiritual being was dissolved into my physical body; no difference between the two any more. The cup, I reckon, contained this liquid of blessedness, known as ambrosia to Christians, the drink of immortality. Ambrosia, the elixir of joy, the mystical blood of Christ. Gods, Titans, and humans have sought it, have fought for it. Don’t you see? Can you see it? Ambrosia, amrit: it is the same,” Lakshmi finished, almost out of breath.

The ex-cardinal and the archeologist looked at her in silence, incapable or unwilling to add anything. The vision of the young woman was both compelling and fantastic. Lakshmi was quite excited now and went on, following the thread of her inspiration prompted by the invisible proximity of the white monkey.

“The identical account is recorded in two completely different traditions, in Britain and Cambodia: who would think of a relationship between Camelot and Angkor Vat? If I speak about these old tales now, it is because I feel they refer to this liquid universe, which was carrying this beatitude. We were swimming within this cup of bliss.

Surely old scriptures were speaking about this elevated state of consciousness. If so, the Holy Grail is the Gift and it has something to do with a mother, with woman or womanhood. We all touched it, my friends, even you, Laksh, although you left rather early, if I may say so. Then we lost it again because we had not purified ourselves sufficiently to appear before the deities. Sir Galahad found the Grail because he was said to be the purest among the knights, a worshipper of the Virgin Mary. I feel the divine drink was revealed to me as a newborn, or rather, a non-born baby, in the lap of a divine mother. I can’t become a baby again or go back to that state, can I? So, what did she want to show me? She spoke about that which is sacred in womanhood; what did she mean? For a short while She granted me a drink of soma, I am sure of this for I was in perfect joy, swimming in an enveloping bliss; oh my God, she gave me the taste of the Grail, ambrosia, the water of life or whatever one calls it.”

Arthur, King at God’s command, mighty master in his own free land, assembled his companion – knights around the sacred table – oak to reveal the message of the Lord ; he sent out his valiant cavaliers to search and find the Holy Truth, sealed safely, as was told of yore, in the vessel of the Sacred Grail, guarded by a multitude of jealous Gods, containing the Light of the Lord to feed the Serpent Power of man. And Lancelot, more famous than them all, did not fulfil his pledge, but sought his passions’ end: instead of paining on his quest, he pondered to beguile his queen, and Gwenhyvar, who was to be her husband’s strongest stay, was flattered by his youth and the freshness of his limbs: she gave him way to what for God she promised to her betrayed King. Keye, master of the sword, married to his horse and spear, rode out with clever skill. He fought when fighting was required, but mostly roved on hidden path to find the sages of the woods and many improper fact he found, but none of them could satisfy his thirst to know the real truth. none could guide him to his goal. Macheloas, noble Prince of Youth and Sire of the Isle of Glass, where eternal spring does reign, drove out with pomp and splendour and on his rambles in the woods of wonder met with Blondamors, to whom he used to bear great passion. Struck by the beauty of her limbs, they drank the wine of love and ate the cake of idle prey, but satiated by their futile pleasure, they were grudging and grumbling and digressed in the devious ways of thought and inappropriate pride. Erec, once a knight of great valour, had become the slowest of them all. lover of sumptuous banquets and wine. He went straight to a witch in the woods and urged her to reveal the secret of the last and ultimate truth. ‘ Not yet,’ she said. ‘ Go to the big water in the middle of the forest and fast for seven days… then you will see the first ray of truth coming to you on the wings of the Mother of the Woods.’ But abstain from food he could not ; so, with guilt in his mind he returned to his world of illusion, where he could satisfy his belly but was not able to satisfy his heart. Iwein,of very great descent, courageous more than all, strove to slay untruth with battlesword in hand and so give way to truth. His quest was full of deeds, the very last more brilliant than the first, but discover he did not. With great contempt he rode straight on, removed the hurdles one by one and pushed his way through the darkest of woods into the land of sham and shadow where he lost his way and was condemned to err forever. Menagormon, in his brilliant panoply, very pleased with the unsought quest – sure as he was to win the Holy Grail – rode through the woods and drowsy villages on his beautiful fiery black stallion until he reached the higher lands, where he crossed many a fairy vale and suddenly saw himself blocked before a deep enchanting crevice: from far below came soft enticing voices meandering up to where he stood. A sweet breeze of fresh seducing air tied him up and pulled him down and the smell of a thousand promises challenged his legendary wit. Enthralled, he unchivalrously slipped down a twisting mossy lane and reached his passions’ paradise: a river of golden sparkling wine in which a bunch of swarming witches tried to attract him by gorgeous feint and as he tasted from this fare forgot about his quest. The only one to unravel the knot was Perceval, the humble herald of God. Because he was innocent, chaste and wise, patient, humble and stable, he could rise above all others and as a real knight brought to his King and kin the light of the Sacred Vessel, which he didn’t find in the dales and mountains of the mind, nor in the woods and villages of desire, but in the gentle force of his own inner fire, that crossed his Mediterranean and emerged out of the verges of the past and so urged the Serpent Power to climb to the height of the heavens to loose itself in the Light of the Lord. The devlish forces of the right could not bind him tight, nor could the enchanting voices of the left tempt him to choices unsound to the goal of his quest. His innocent wisdom won the test and he so saved the honour of the rest by adding the seed of Divine Zest. Ridavindra Belgium 1999