Kashmir: Missed Chance: Oh Hello, Dalai!

What do you do when one of the world’s pre-eminent religious leaders sits behind you on the plane? Dish on China? Share your iPod? Pretend to levitate? Or maybe, nothing at all?

Location: The aisle of Jet Air 737 making a stop in Jammu,

You: Bald-headed and bespectacled, wearing an off-the-shoulder scarlet and orange robe, smelling of sandalwood incense and lotus flowers and toting a briefcase with a "Free Tibet" sticker.

Me: Long-haired, bleary-eyed foreign correspondent, wearing a dirty black T-shirt, khaki pants, smelling of last night's curry and toting a look of unrivaled disbelief.

The moment: I was sitting in my aisle seat already, having boarded in Kashmir, when we made the quick stop in Jammu on our way to Delhi. That's where I saw you. Your bodyguards got on first — not the juiced up, pistol-packing muscle that usually accompanies heads of state, annoying celebrities and corporate robber barons — just clean-cut, average-sized dudes that probably did their time in a Shaolin temple or two and could likely snap spines with a properly pitched shout.

One eyeballed me for a second, shooting a fully disapproving look at my unlaced combat boots and slumpy seating posture.

But all that negativity quickly disappeared when your silhouette pierced the white haze coming from the open cabin doorway. You looked inside — I can't say whether right at me or not, but it certainly seemed that way — a barely-perceptible Mona Lisa smile on your face. Or perhaps you were only adjusting to the light inside the plane.

As you walked by I wanted to reach out and touch you, thinking that even just a brush against your robes might make me a wiser, kinder, more peaceful man — or at the very least I'd know if they were all cotton or some kind of synthetic blend.

But no, I was too awestruck. I just let you pass by without even a word. Then, opportunity came knocking again when you climbed into the window seat behind me.

But there was another problem. You were with someone else. Another Buddhist monk from Tibet. Now I'm not saying he's some kind of God digger, but I doubt he'd hang around with less karmic figures.

I tried to listen while you made your lunch choice from the flight attendant; were you a galoob paneer or veggie korma kind of Dalai? I thought maybe if your friend got up to use the bathroom I could slip in for a second while the seat belt sign was off and buy you a sweet mango lassi.

But he never left your side. Smart. Probably knew some enlightenment-seeking player like me would try to move in on you in a second. I mean look what happened when you went to Hollywood. That whole Richard Gere affair.

I kept watching you out of the corner of my eye, pretending to listen more closely than I was to Matisyahu on my iPod Nano. I'd bet my backup 100 gig hard drive that you'd get a kick out of hearing a Hasidic Jew singing reggae. I considered offering you my headset, but you just sat there, staring out the window with that blissfully serene look on your face.

I kept trying to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to mind, which with you, I guess, is probably a good thing, seeing as how you're always talking about staying in the moment.

I thought about asking if you saw "The Da Vinci Code," but you probably get that all the time. With that mischievous smile of yours, I wondered if the whole thing might've been one of your legendary monkish pranks, spreading rumors to author Dan Brown to get Pope B's vestments all in bunch. I can even imagine you double-dog daring the Danish cartoonist just to get the other guys riled up too.

You seem like the kind of Dalai that would have cracked up if I had asked you to bless my peanuts.

I guess that's why I was initially attracted to you — forced into exile, had to grow up fast, decades of cross-legged meditation and a vegetarian diet, yet you're still able to keep your impish sense of humor.

And I have to admit, your professional success is pretty impressive too. A lot of people say they want world peace, but how many can actually make a living at it? Also, this was just a bonus, but I don't think I ever felt so safe and secure flying with anyone else — ever.

When the plane finally landed in Delhi, we had that moment during the deplaning where I paused to let you go first, but you waved me ahead. I knew that if I went, we'd probably never speak, but just like that, I did. The next thing I know, I'm in the airport shuttle and you're being packed into the back of a white Mercedes and whisked off to who knows where. I press my face against the bus window to get one more glimpse, but it's too late.

Anyway, I know there's probably a slim chance that you'll read this. But if you get my vibe, I'm putting out good thoughts into the universe and wanted to tell you: while in the short time we spent together I didn't achieve nirvana, I came very close, for me anyway, to having a moment of Zen.

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