An Angel without wings

I met her at Ponta Sahib (a small town in Himachal Pradesh) during Tibetan march. They were having rest at a Tibetan monastery when got arrested. I was so tired after a long journey from Macloed Ganj and was trying to find a place to rest. But she approached me with a bright smile and offered all the help to rest at her place. Obviously the place is not very spacious, but I found her presence so comforting. She is not fluent in English, but managed to convey through a translator that there is lot in her heart to tell me, but can’t express. It was the beginning of a great friendship between us.

Her name is Kunchok Lhamo, she is an Angel without wings. She came to India with her old father on foot. She was accompanying him who had to leave Tibet to escape Chinese army. He was tortured in prison for many years due to his political activities. On their way, the Nepalese guides never helped her old father to cross the mountains, instead they were giving a helping hand to beautiful girls, she says.

I was so moved by the kindness and love she shows to everybody, she is a girl who is devoid of any worldly vices. An innocent wild rose who doesn’t aware of her beauty, but spreads her fragrance to all around her unselfishly. She has a big house in Tibet, but she has to live in a tiny room at Macleod Ganj. Sitting in her little place, she dreams of the peach fruits, apple and wall nuts in her garden in Tibet. She desperately wants to be in her beautiful home with her affectionate mother.

When in Macleod Ganj, I am a regular visitor to her home. Probably nobody take care of me as they do. I learned from them the art of giving more than you have; loving more than you get. Sometimes her father says I am his elder daughter. I can’t hear her father’s story without tears in my eyes. What moves me is the amount of kindness in him despite the inhuman tortures he had gone through in Chinese prison. He surprises me with his knowledge about India and world at large, though he had never been to school. They are so close to my heart, may be that existed long before I met Lhamo.

Rahman and Slumdog Millionanaire

Everybody in India celebrates Alla Rakha Rahman. Oscar award is sure a recognition for his genius and he well deserves that, eventhough I don’t feel oscar is the best award in the world. Probably it is more about glamour and glitter. But this gave a chance to west and US to get to know Rahman’s musical talent. Otherwise our musicians are not much exposed to western world. But Rahman composed wonderful songs right from the beginning of his career way back in 80s. I prefer to listen to the Tamil version of his songs to Hindi ones, it is more musical to my ears. For me it is a spiritual experience too. Rahman himself admitted that music composing is a spiritual journey to him. What is attractive about him is his humility. Born hindu who is converted to Islam he embodies the true spirit of Sufism - to surpass one’s ego.
And for sound Engineer Resul Pookutty, oscar award is a great honour and achievement. They both represents a bright and talented young India.

Slumdog is a well made film though commercial one, and I particularly liked the way director experiment with non-actors. He could tap the talent of slum kids that made them perform like seasoned actors. This film made slum kids dream a world beyond their limit, beyond their little shanty. There are many negative views in India about the success of this film. True it get noticed because of the British director. India had rags to rich stories in the romantic idealistic eras of 70s and 80s. But we don’t need to get upset about somebody show casing poverty. Instead we must get upset by the amount of poverty we have in India. Personally it stir my conscience whenever I see people live in abject poverty. This is one side of India which is poor and abandoned. And bad things get good publicity, but this is true of any nation. I feel we must take this criticism positively and work towards eradicating poverty.

But I do feel that Slumdog, Rahman and Resul got Oscar mainly because director knows oscar market well. it is all about marketing.

Macleod Ganj Diary

Macleod Ganj is as charming as any part of Himachal Pradesh. I am pretty fascinated by this mountain state. Macleod Ganj was my first stop in Himachal Pradesh, later I have been to many other places in this state and would like to visit again and again. Dalai Lama, monks… it was all about a spiritual aura in the beginning. The monks are the friendliest people I have ever seen. They are approachable and always ready to help you.

It is more or less a Tibetan area. So it is no surprise that whenever I write about Macleod Ganj, it happens to be a Tibetan story. I feel proud of Tibetans who made a living here without forgetting their root. I feel so sympathetic to the Tibetan refugees who had to give up their homeland. I heard stories of Chinese Army snatching away all their valuables and literally made them poor during the invasion. Probably as they live in an alien land, here in India they have a strong community feeling and help each other.

What surprises me is the kind of unseen wall between locals and Tibetans. There is hardly any interaction among them. After many years in India, Tibetans live as separate community here. Maybe locals feel threatened of their presence? But I find Tibetans are more keen to interact with westerners, one could feel that if pay a visit to any of Tibetan shop. For many young Tibetans, India is a temporary resting place before their destination to USA or Europe. It is funny to see many Tibetans youth rubbing shoulder with western girls, struggle to speak with an American accent.

A large part of Tibetan youthness is trendy and fashion-conscious unlike the locals who seems to have other preoccupation. During my many visits to Macleod Ganj, I realized that beyond Buddhism and spirituality, Tibetans look at west and imitate them.

Locals Indians don’t have much sympathy for Tibetans. Initially it was bit astonishing to me. When I asked about this to some Indians they told me ‘we know them as we live with them’. I didn’t really get what they meant, but thought better to leave that there. Besides they feel Tibetans have many well wishers abroad, they get fund, one even put it like this: ‘They have Richard Gere, who is there for those Indians who beg on street?’
However I have always sympathy for Tibetans and I particularly support their non-violent freedom struggle. In all their protest marches they carry the picture of Mahatma Gandhi. It is heartening to see Gandhi is ‘enliven’ through them when we forgot the great son of India. I feel India must be grateful to them also as they preserved the Buddhist religion and culture. It is through Tibet Buddhism spread to its neibhouring places
But with all its draw backs, I still love to be in Macleod Ganj, I love the freedom and safety of a woman here, I love to see the variety of people from all over the world here, I love the different cuisines here. Last but not least I cherish a walk to Dalai Lama's Temple when I feel lost and lonely.

Spiti - a lost Valley

Spiti is a lost valley sandwitched between perennial snow capped mountains. Cold, remote and dry - it looks like another country inside India. The sight of huge mountains that appears as if to kiss the blue sky is so spectacular. The valley is not much exposed to tourism though blessed with unique features.

Reaching there is a real adventure. The muddy, zigzag road from Manali to Kaza (head quarters of Spiti) can be scary at times. It was dry and sunny in june when we set out for Kaza. Everybody at the Himachal Pradesh state bus we were traveling seemed so tired when it stopped for lunch at Rohtang pass. There was only one little dhaba on that deserted way. The simple food consists of rice, dal and a vegetable appeared so delicious.

The red soil of Kaza reminds me of the Mars surface's pictures. Kazans are friendly and greet you with a warm hello ("jooley"). Their world is so small and simple and without much ambitions. I could read a kind of tranquility and innocence on the face of every Spitian I came across. I wanted to take into my arms the muddy faced children who looked at us in awe and curiosity.

Their culture and food habits are similar to that of Tibetan. Spiti is a 100% buddhist valley where people hold Dalai Lama in high regard. One of the ancient Buddhist temple - Tabo monastery, build in 996 of our era, is situated here.
Due to the extreme weather and location, life is hard for Spitians. They are literally away from much of the modern amenities. There is neather means for higher education nor opportunity for job. Only few can afford to send their children for higher studies.



Bollywud and cricket connect India well. Here also I have seen people thronging before TV to watch hindi films and Cricket. Before leaving, me and my friend Mat were invited to the house of a local Spitian whom I befriended in the bus.
The house is made in a traditional style with mud and straw. As everybody knows hindi I could communicate with them well. They didn't have any idea of Switzerland where my friend Mat belongs to. For them he is just an 'angrezi' (English man, but tried to include him also in conversation).

Everybody in the house sat on the floor mat to chat with us. They were so eager to speak of their place and culture. We have been served tea and different snacks. While leaving, our host told me that their house will be open to us anytime we go there. With all their limitations, Spitians are rich at heart, I thought.

Life in the time of Moral policing

We don’t have any dearth of publicity-hungry parties or groups in India. The latest avatar is Sriram Sena that began its ‘public life’ by attacking women at a pub in Mangalore. Unfortunately they claim to be warriors of a person who is considered a perfect man in the epic Ramayana. These groups emerge from nowhere as mushrooms after the rain and get all the media attention though for wrong reason.

I don’t know whether it is post modern face of intolerance as medias put it. Because as a society India is conservative despite the mask of modernity it wears in the cities. So naturally section of the society cannot stand the increasing freedom Indian women enjoy today. Our society has a tendency to blame and control women. Of course it views woman through the male eye. Indian society is terribly male dominated.

Even after attacked and abused by bad language, none of the girls or their parents came out in the open with complaint. Parents try to play it down by blaming their girls. It is always men who decide how women must behave, what they must do, wear and think. The attacks on girls in Mangalore, Hariyana and other places are nothing but an indication of male arrogance and chauvinism. It has nothing to do with valentine’s day celebrations or Indian culture. Sadly, this moral police never react when women are being raped and molested.

Other factor is probably jealousy. The fact that somebody is enjoying things which is denied to the underprivileged. Those who take into the streets in the name of moral policing are less educated and less privileged ones. I wonder what would be their answer if stop and ask about Indian culture. Those who manipulate them are the real beneficiaries in this deal.

Moral policing is against the freedom of individual. But surprisingly many in our closed society support this menace. At the same time society changes rapidly on one side - more westernized and shallow. Anyways I feel the moral police should immediately take lessons of Indian culture.