Pied pipers of Hemis..

May, 2007..

Hemis gompa was our next stop destination when we embarked into the hired taxis. Situated at an altitude of 12000 ft it was about 45 kms from our hotel in Leh. With the thought of yet another journey floating in my mind, I wasn’t too energized but set out to visit this structure.

Besides having heard interesting facts about Hemis Monastery that it holds the distinction of being the biggest as well as the wealthiest monastery of Ladakh, I wasn’t really looking forward to this monument. I guess this was the effect of ‘other’ monasteries, which bore a testimony of neglect and apathy, have had on me.

And the fact that Hemis gompa dates back to the year 1630, it’s visualisation as a remnant of a distinct culture and history was something that bothered me.

Once we reached the site I realised that my fascination and enticement towards this visit was at its low. I believe it had to do with the fact that both my body and soul wasn’t in sync with the exhaustive travelling that we had undertaken this fortnight.

And while I walked carelessly towards this structure a distant chant caught me anxious. I could hear the beating of drums from the other side of the wall. Synchronised with humming voices it had a captivating effect on me. I walked with hurried steps to locate the source as if I was being drawn towards it.

Once I entered the court of the gompa, I saw a huddle of monks dancing to the tunes of some ancient chants. There were three elderly monks reciting chants from an old manuscript, while the younger ones were following the experienced steps of a monk, who was leading the dance in a circular motion around a flagpole in the yard.

The mesmerising music was a mixture of chants and the sounds, emanating from some unfamiliar instruments, played by these three monks who were closely observing the steps with skilful eyes.

I watched the young monks following every step performed by the monk in the front, who was choreographing his steps to the tune of this tender music. With every movement each word and note seemed to have a greater meaning. The soft and tender chants were so rich in compassionate overtones that their slow movements in accord with the tune seemed soothing.

I saw some other elderly monks amused over the utilities of mobile phones, that the younger monks were carrying, suggesting me of their interaction with the technologically driven, outside world. I was wondering how they have managed to preserve and nurture this 200 yr old tradition. But as I watched them rehearse, I sensed their faithfulness and commitment towards their customs and their daily chores which has become a way of life for them.

Hemis serves as the venue of an annual festival, known as the festival of Tso Chu. It is celebrated every year to commemorate the birth of Padmasambhava, also known as Guru Rimpoche.

And during the festival a sacred mask dance is performed by the monks, dressed in colourful robes and wearing masks depicting various characters, who dance around the main tarchen(flagpole) in the main courtyard. The dance takes place on 9th and 10th day of the fifth month of the Tibetan calendar. Like many other religious beliefs it celebrates the triumph of good over evil.

This monastic festival is special during the year of the monkey, which comes once in 12 yrs, as it marks the birth year of Guru Rimpoche, the founder of Tantrik Buddhism in Tibet.

Unaffected and unconscious of the enthusiastic spectators and visitors, clicking pictures up-close, many without a sense of courtesy, the monks continued to practise for this year’s festival. Till one over-excited visitor decided to join them, to dance, for a picture, the monk leading the dance made offensive gestures to express his annoyance!

I gazed.

There was something in the air that enthralled me. I was getting captivated by the soulful music that hummed into my ears. While I walked sheepishly, close up to the monks who were undisturbed by the presence of the strangers, I realised their attentiveness was too high to be bothered by this intrusion into their space and time.

I walked as if I was hypnotised under their spell.
With calculated steps and moves I went and sat right beside the monks who were creating this magical harmony.

Their chants put me at comfort.
The tune was joyous and resonant to my inner being.

My eyes closed and with a sense of unawareness of the environment I was in, the people around me, the place I was in.. I sat quietly to listen to and feel the tones, the vibrancy and rhythms of the chants.

The melodious tune transported me to a place where I felt emotion without having to 'think' new thoughts. For a moment I realised that I was blank. There were no thoughts of the past or future. I was in the present.

It took my mind away from redundant or negative thinking to joyfulness.

This tender, calming and refreshing music seemed to have a healing effect on my body, mind and soul. I felt as if it broke my cycle of thought, enough to allow my natural energy to flow freely again; my body felt warmer; energized.

I felt I was closer to the ‘One’ than I have ever been. I felt I touched onto something, something unknown yet familiar; and it touched me.
I do not know if it was for real.
All I know for sure is that it gave me a rest; uplifted me when I was feeling out of sorts.

It felt as if I sat there for hours.

There was something about this place that made me feel at peace with myself.
Now I appreciate why music has been an integral part of meditation since the very dawn of civilisation.

I have read that ‘Buddha’ simply meant “one who is awakened”. Even though I have not become a Buddha but I guess I understand what it means to be Buddha. With these worthy rewards, the few minutes I spent in this abode were worth enjoying!

Energized and inspired, I moved on.

A humbled soul..

In pursuit of happiness of a haughty Ego..!!

May 2007..

After having travelled expansively in Kashmir valley and then in Leh, for more than 14 days, my desire to trek on foot was getting irresistible.
And this impending desire was getting even more adulterous with every dawn, when the sunbeams rushed to kiss the snow-clad peaks, making it shine brightly in this undecorated land of bare beauty.

It seemed as if these towering peaks had been constantly teasing me of my insignificance amongst their mighty presence.

And then ‘altitude sickness’ teamed up with this thought of unimportance, through fatigue and weakness to a feeling of ‘not fit for’ impression.

After a day full of activity, the hike to ‘Shanti Stupa’ was made optional, as many of us, including me, were still ailing with the symptoms of altitude sickness. The Stupa is located at Changspa, on the hilltop and is connected by a ‘motorable’ road and a steep flight of stairs. We were to scale it by taking the stairs, which was ought to be a tough climb.

"Shanti Stupa was built by the Japanese who harboured the ambition of spreading Buddhism across the world, in 1985 with aid from the Japanese Government. It was inaugurated by Dalai Lama in 1985. Unlike other structures like the monasteries/Gompas and palaces which has more of a Tibetan influence, this structure is different."


Since this yearning to accomplish these heights had reached its zenith, I thus challenged my spirit to take upon this quest.

Once we reached the foothill, I saw a white structure perched in the sky, stretching out towards the indigo sky and then the stairs that led to it.
At once it looked easy so for a moment the thought of conquering it without any stops brushed my mind.

But since the trek has been very unpredictable from the beginning, I did shrug this thought off.

I did!

I began the ascent with the mantra of being slow and steady and a solitary aim of proving my inhibitions wrong.

After climbing 40 odd steps I was struggling for my breath.
So I soon realised that it wasn’t going to be as easy as it appeared.
While hiking, a black-billed magpie flew right across me without any acknowledgement of my presence. As if this intruder had no real significance in its daily chores. And then I saw more of them hopping and flying from one stone to the other.
It was a sight to see!

All this, while I kept pushing myself to keep climbing constantly, encouraging myself not to stop, in pursuit of happiness of a haughty ego!

Looking back I saw people trying to catch up with their breath which did appeal to me for a moment saying, I should stop too.
But the voice in the head was too strong to let that happen.
So with a sense of achievement I kept walking up the stairs.

With each step taken my legs were getting heavier, I was gasping for more air.
My head was drooping, shoulders had dropped down and hands had reached out to my waist.
And now I didn’t even wanted to turn back and look at my sense of accomplishment.
I cribbed about the fact that this whole suffering was a choice I made.

Soon after few more steps I realised I needed to stop.

I was panting heavily and my lungs were under immense pressure for that one last gasp pf breath.
And yes I did!

While I was struggling to breathe I saw an elderly ‘white’ couple begin their climb from where we had begun. I smiled with the thought of the time they would take to reach the summit or rather meeting them midway while I start my descent.
Soon with new found strength, to beat them in this quest, I began again with the thought of no-more-stops!

I soon realised again, I was wrong!

I stopped more than..hmm..I didn’t count. I couldn’t count. All I was trying to do was to breathe. The elderly couple..not only did they race ahead of me but they reached the Stupa without a single break!

‘Firangs!!’.. I mumbled!

Finally with innumerable breaks I finally managed to reach the summit.
The elderly couple busy capturing the scenic beauty with their SLR passed a courteous smile as if acknowledging my feat.
I did manage to smile back with a sense of achievement, so what if I reached after them. I reached!
That itself was an achievement for me then.

Once on top, I saw an open quad from where I could look over the panoramic view of the chain of mountains.
The peaceful little village of Changspa with typical Ladakhi houses built along a gushing stream, and the towering Namgyal Tsemo in the distance.
I could see the ruins of Leh palace and the victory tower at a distance.

The splendid view from the top alone was well worth the effort.

So I took to the edge of the court and sat quietly to regain myself.

With the setting sun the view was pleasing and scenic!
I could witness the vastness that the mountains around me had in its span.
I could listen to the silence in the chilly wind cutting across me.
I could spot the shades of different colours in the contours of those peaks.
Away from the madness of the world!

It gave me immense pleasure to look down from where we had begun our ascent; saw some of my buddies still hiking at their own sweet pace.

Looking at the azure sky I took this time to sit and listen to the voices that I normally don’t tend to listen to.

And soon white thoughts dotted the white expanse, edges frayed and drifting aimlessly.
Insubstantial thoughts of the past, glinting to get my undivided attention.
So I gazed upon the things the mind doesn’t forget, as if complaining, that I don’t take note of them.
Familiar faces, images, pictures, figures, reflections, visions swarmed my restless thoughts.

Just then a strong breeze tossed my thoughts around!

And after, all was calm again.

The past was blown away, and I was free.
A journey through 580 odd steps and I was free again!

And although this journey has ended, I'll never forget what I've learned along the way, or how I learned to take it day by day.

An egoistic soul..!!