Turning the wheel of time
Mcleodgunj is a sleepy hill town located 4 Kms. above Dharmshala, Himachal Pradesh, India. Also referred to as little Lhasa, this town now houses thousands of Tibetan refugees along with their political and religious leader, the Dalai Lama. Mcloeodgunj consists of three main roads and sits pretty, perched atop the mountain like a bird of prey.
The magnificent Dhauladhar range serves as its backdrop that turns milky white during winters. This little town is special; it has a story quite unlike any other.
In 1850, a British garrison was established here and was named after the lieutenant governor of Punjab, Mr. David McLeod. It served as an administrative capital for the Kangra valley until 1905, when a massive earthquake devastated the town. Till 1960, Mcleodgunj remained in the shadows, until the Dalai Lama along with his people were granted political asylum here. Since then, this town has played home to thousands of Tibetan people and is more Tibetan than Indian in it’s character. Hence, the name, little Lhasa.
Until very recently, very little was known about Tibet. Due to its rugged terrains, access was difficult and very few people had seen or known anything about its population or culture. The Tibetans were originally nomadic people and like all other nomadic tribes they had their own local religion called ‘Bon’. It was around the 8th century that an Indian mystic called Padmasambhava took Buddhism to Tibet and fused it with the Bon religion to create the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. I will not go into the complex dissection and categorization of the Tibetan Buddhist schools since they are quite confusing to the uninitiated. Broadly speaking, around 1617-1682, the 5th Dalai Lama was placed at the head of the state and served as the religious as well as the political head of Tibet. This tradition continued to the present age until the Chinese liberation army overthrew the Tibetan government in 1950. It was during the 5th Dalai Lama that the Potala or the royal palace of Tibet was built in Lhasa and it became the capital. Since then, the Tibetans practiced non-violence. Taking advantage of this and also the fact that Tibet never had a so called organized army, China bulldozed it’s way in and stayed there, claiming the land to be their own. It was then that the 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzing Gyatso, was forced to flee into India to save his life. Since then hoards of Tibetan refugees still make their way through the treacherous mountains to India to avoid oppression and injustice. The Indian Government has allowed the Tibetans to set up their ‘government in exile’ in Dharmshala but they do not get adequate infrastructural help. The Tibetans are left with no choice but to be happy with whatever is passed on to their plate.
After visiting Mcleodgunj, I was deeply moved and inspired by the Tibetan people and their non-aggressive attitude despite the fact that they’ve been wronged for so many centuries. My intention here, is not to make political statements since I am not very well equipped to do so but to put together my own views and feelings on this particular issue. The ‘Free Tibet’ Movement has been going on for quite some time now under the guidance of the present Dalai Lama, Tenzing Gyatso. Owing to the non-violent Buddhist traditions, the movement has been wholly passive and despite the participation of a large number of people including international celebrities, it has failed to achieve its purpose.
Being the seat of the ‘Free Tibet’ campaign, Mcleodgunj is full of little shops selling ‘Free Tibet’ t-shirts and stickers and various other mementos. Needless to say, it is a thriving tourist destination with people from all over the world swarming the streets. Little shacks selling Tibetan artifacts and silver jewelry, line the sides of the streets. The gems and semi-precious stones dazzle in the bright sun as if trying to attract attention of the passers-by, ‘look! Look here! Here I am! I can adorn your wrist, neck or earlobe if you only grant me one wish… give me back my land’.
There are numerous quaint little shops and cafeterias vending delicious momos and other Tibetan delicacies. One can while away an entire day just by trying out the food on the menu and sipping piping hot cappuccino at various shops.
There are numerous posters and signs all over the town advertising exotic Tibetan massage centers and cooking classes.
If you are lucky, you might stumble upon a street magician armed with little tricks up his sleeve. One can keep walking up and down the steep hilly roads, taking in the sights and sounds of ‘Little Lhasa’, and yet, not get tiered by it.
Wherever you look, strings of colourful Buddhist prayer flags flutter in the wind.
A beautiful golden ‘Chorten’ houses a giant prayer wheel in the center of the town, where one has to move in a clockwise direction while turning the wheel, in order to fulfill a wish. God knows, how many wishes have come true here, maybe someone wished for more money, someone for a son or a daughter, maybe for good luck or just to be married off soon enough. All wishes are granted in the great hall of the prayer wheel. Despite being so generous hearted, this wish fulfilling wheel does not hear the pleas of it’s own people, it remains unmoved by their cries, ‘We just want to go home, is that too much to ask?’
Around 11:30 A.M., each morning, the teaching sessions are dismissed and people file out of the ‘Namgyal Monastery’; the present abode of the Dalai Lama. Monks and nuns, dressed in a shade of deep maroon, throng the streets. In my earlier post I had mentioned that red is the colour of passion for me, but here, it is the colour of sainthood. These Lamas, both young and old live and practice in their respective monasteries and have dedicated their entire lives to achieving enlightenment.
During my short stay in Mcleodgunj, I often wondered, how it must feel to not have a home, a country to call your own, to be without any root. The present Tibetan youth, who are the same age as I am, have never been to Tibet. They were born in India and are as Indian as I am. And yet, the difference remains… the past sits heavily on their shoulders, a legacy they must carry forward. And if they don’t, if they choose to forget to be Tibetan and call themselves Indians, they are given the obscene title of a ‘refugee’.
Many a times I wanted to discuss this with a young Tibetan, but could not bring myself to raise the topic. It must be painful to talk about it. What is it that they feel about this issue? Is it anger? Resentment? Annoyance? Frustration? Maybe a mixture of all.
The future is shrouded in doubts. With China increasingly becoming powerful and arrogant, it seems unlikely that the Tibetans will get back their country in the near future. The Indian government remains ignorant towards them and besides, there are umpteenth numbers of more important issues at hand to take care of. Is there a solution at all?
Religion, class, nationality, divides people. To hell with borders! Let’s just be friends; let’s treat each other like fellow beings. Let’s not dwell on the past and burden ourselves with titles and names like ‘Indian’, ‘Tibetan’, ‘Chinese’, ‘Buddhist’, ‘Hindu’, ‘Christian’, ‘Muslim’, ‘Resident’, ‘Non-resident’, ‘Citizen’, ‘Refugee’, ‘Believer’, ‘Non-believer’, this, that and the other. Let’s forget to be anything at all and let’s just be. The day we would be able to do that, we would truly attain enlightenment.
Check out the following links to find out more about the 'Free Tibet' campaign:
http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/uc280907.html
http://www.freetibet.org/
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=free+tibet&search=Search
October 8, 2007
September 28, 2007
The Flight
I had a dream last night. It was a wish fulfilling dream, I could fly, I could sing a storm up. What a dream it was. I was standing on top of a tall stone pillar in the midst of a forest. I was standing there all alone, like a statue. Dressed in red and orange robes, red and orange...the colours of passion, I was standing on one foot, with the other foot raised high up like the tail of a peacock. My arms were outstretched...holding a yellow scarf, almost like a dancer about to start performing. The posture was almost that of a flying figure that we see in far eastern murals and scrolls. Then suddenly, almost suddenly, I started to spin...spin faster and faster till I was just a wispy blurr... like a tornado in the middle of a green enchanted forest. I spun like a top, atop the stone pillar for quite some time, without rhyme or reason. Then, when the spinning was too fast for the pillar to bear, I took off, into the air..with one graceful leap...flying over the treetops..just like a Chinese flying figure...like a goddess of the wind. I glided for some time, effortlessly, banishing the yellow scarf in front of me like a sword.The topmost branches of the trees just grazed my feet. Then slowly, very slowly, i slowed down and started to descend towards the ground, twirling and floating like a ballerina. I don't have words to describe my feelings...the way my heart became as light as a feather. But like all good things, it came to an end. But the dream did not end there but merely transformed itself into another unreal setting where unlike my previous other worldly self, here I was a child of the earth, firmly rooted and strong. I was standing in the middle of a desert, it was dusk. I started singing...I cannot remember the words but it was a soul full song. I sang from my heart...like I never sang before till the sky started to darken and a storm started to brew...as if provoked by my song. The earth joined in and the sounds of the wind and the sky chorused along with me. It was the the most powerful that I have ever felt...in dream or in reality. But, alas, dreams are meant to be broken and I woke up to another dull and monotonous day, where nothing of this sort ever happens. But such is the magic of life that however troublesome or sorrowful we might be, one never stops dreaming!
So, why I narrated this absurdity to all of you? because I want to tell you all one thing today... DREAM ON!
I had a dream last night. It was a wish fulfilling dream, I could fly, I could sing a storm up. What a dream it was. I was standing on top of a tall stone pillar in the midst of a forest. I was standing there all alone, like a statue. Dressed in red and orange robes, red and orange...the colours of passion, I was standing on one foot, with the other foot raised high up like the tail of a peacock. My arms were outstretched...holding a yellow scarf, almost like a dancer about to start performing. The posture was almost that of a flying figure that we see in far eastern murals and scrolls. Then suddenly, almost suddenly, I started to spin...spin faster and faster till I was just a wispy blurr... like a tornado in the middle of a green enchanted forest. I spun like a top, atop the stone pillar for quite some time, without rhyme or reason. Then, when the spinning was too fast for the pillar to bear, I took off, into the air..with one graceful leap...flying over the treetops..just like a Chinese flying figure...like a goddess of the wind. I glided for some time, effortlessly, banishing the yellow scarf in front of me like a sword.The topmost branches of the trees just grazed my feet. Then slowly, very slowly, i slowed down and started to descend towards the ground, twirling and floating like a ballerina. I don't have words to describe my feelings...the way my heart became as light as a feather. But like all good things, it came to an end. But the dream did not end there but merely transformed itself into another unreal setting where unlike my previous other worldly self, here I was a child of the earth, firmly rooted and strong. I was standing in the middle of a desert, it was dusk. I started singing...I cannot remember the words but it was a soul full song. I sang from my heart...like I never sang before till the sky started to darken and a storm started to brew...as if provoked by my song. The earth joined in and the sounds of the wind and the sky chorused along with me. It was the the most powerful that I have ever felt...in dream or in reality. But, alas, dreams are meant to be broken and I woke up to another dull and monotonous day, where nothing of this sort ever happens. But such is the magic of life that however troublesome or sorrowful we might be, one never stops dreaming!
So, why I narrated this absurdity to all of you? because I want to tell you all one thing today... DREAM ON!
September 25, 2007
Hello Readers!
This is my first ever blog. To tell you the truth, I never saw what a blog looked like until yesterday. So I thought, why not? Let me also start writing!! I think, all of you would agree with me, that writing a blog is like talking to yourself...more like a sounding board. Sometimes it is difficult to think when all your thoughts are jumbled up. This is when you need to separate them and put each one in a clear glass bottle and label them properly in order to work with each one at your leisure. And that's exactly what a blog is meant to do...at least for me. So at the end of the day, if someone reads it and comments on it, then that's an added bonus!
As of today, It's overcast and cool and I am at home typing this blog. The reason why I named my blog 'Black Coffee' is because over a cup of steaming black coffee one can talk about almost anything and everything under the sun or maybe not speak at all! But it makes for a quiet introspective session with yourself or with someone else, where new ideas often come to mind and enthusiasm brews like nobodies busyness. So, to start the day,I must share with you my secret receipe for making black coffee.
You'll need to have a good quality filter coffee, instant coffee just wont do!
mesure water in the same coffee cup that you will be drinking in and put it on the flame. Cover it and let it simmer. Just before the water starts to boil, turn off the flame. Put in the filter coffee in heaped tablespoons, two heaped tablespoons for one mug. Cover it and let it soak for five minutes. Then strain out the coffee into the mugs and add sugar as per your taste.
This process is to be followed by those who can drink very strong coffee. You will also find a certain amount of sludge at the bottom of the cup, that's ok. PersonallyI like the grainy texture of the coffee whenI drink, but if you don't like it then you could strain it through a cotton cloth.
This is my first ever blog. To tell you the truth, I never saw what a blog looked like until yesterday. So I thought, why not? Let me also start writing!! I think, all of you would agree with me, that writing a blog is like talking to yourself...more like a sounding board. Sometimes it is difficult to think when all your thoughts are jumbled up. This is when you need to separate them and put each one in a clear glass bottle and label them properly in order to work with each one at your leisure. And that's exactly what a blog is meant to do...at least for me. So at the end of the day, if someone reads it and comments on it, then that's an added bonus!
As of today, It's overcast and cool and I am at home typing this blog. The reason why I named my blog 'Black Coffee' is because over a cup of steaming black coffee one can talk about almost anything and everything under the sun or maybe not speak at all! But it makes for a quiet introspective session with yourself or with someone else, where new ideas often come to mind and enthusiasm brews like nobodies busyness. So, to start the day,I must share with you my secret receipe for making black coffee.
You'll need to have a good quality filter coffee, instant coffee just wont do!
mesure water in the same coffee cup that you will be drinking in and put it on the flame. Cover it and let it simmer. Just before the water starts to boil, turn off the flame. Put in the filter coffee in heaped tablespoons, two heaped tablespoons for one mug. Cover it and let it soak for five minutes. Then strain out the coffee into the mugs and add sugar as per your taste.
This process is to be followed by those who can drink very strong coffee. You will also find a certain amount of sludge at the bottom of the cup, that's ok. PersonallyI like the grainy texture of the coffee whenI drink, but if you don't like it then you could strain it through a cotton cloth.
That's all for today! Hope you enjoy the coffee!
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