The other day, when inspecting, cleaning and oiling a n old katana (from 1820) I noticed a browny-black sludgy smudge across its tip and realised the scabbardās āoil trapā, (ę²¹ę§½ - yusÅ), situated at its distal end, must have accumulated a considerable amount of gunk over the last two centuries. But how on earth could I clean it out? After ruminating on the problem, I ordered as set of those cable feeding rods, used to pull electrical cables through cavities or under floorboards. I wrapped its end thinly in a clean gauze bandage with the other end wrapped around my hand and
gently pushed it into the scabbard, carefully rotating it to clean it out any residue. It took quite a few repetitions, changing the gauze each time, of this process before the gauze came out clean; the scabbardās yusÅ was pristine, much to my relief. Now, the colour of the gunk seemed familiar somehow and I had a disturbing hunch as to what it might contain, so I cut off some of the soiled gauze, soaked it in a small beaker of saline and dripped the solution onto a urine testing strip (the ones that can detect protein, sugar, ketones and blood in oneās urine) that I happened to have in my medicine cupboard. I didnāt have wait for more than a few seconds for the result; it contained a
large amount of
blood (ā++++ā)!
Naturally, Iām fully cognizant for what Japanese swords were used, by their samurai guardians, but this piece of hard evidence brought that fact into startling focus and I have to admit the circumstance by which that blood got there, slightly disturbed me! In a bit of a daze, I dropped the gauze in my bin, oiled my sword and packed it away.
That night, while trying to sleep, my thoughts of that eveningās discovery made me feel uneasy, as though something(s) was present in my bedroom toward the foot of my bed, above me, observing me, oppressing me withā¦.āexpectationā. There were unusual noises in my bedroom that night , clicks, gentle thumps and scrapes that were unfamiliar amongst the usual ensemble of my house, cooling in the night. Iād just thrown the gauze into my bin planning on emptying it in the morning but after a night of tossing and turning, realised what I must actually do. In the morning, I gathered the blood-soiled pieces of gauze from out of my bin, placed them in a small cardboard box, and performed the ancient Japanese Kuji kiri incantation over them (ārin, pyo, toh sha kai, jin, retsu, zai, zenā) whilst making the nine cutting movements to form the cleansing grid, in order to dispel restless or malign spirits. I took the box out to the far end of my garden, as far away from the house as possible, where I buried them in a small hole. I said under my breath āJobutsu seyoā (go to the Buddha/Nirvana) and left the shady area. I have slept peacefully ever since.
(OK, I made up the supernatural bit, but Iām going to tell that story after Christmas dinner and for years to come!)
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