Thursday, September 14, 2006

Time does not exist...

I was walking down the dimly lit winding street of Jogibara Road in McLoed Ganj, Upper Dharamsala. The moon was peaking over one the Himalayan ranges casting the softest white light upon my path. A path full of no roads and many a rock. In my concert hall between my ears Lauryn Hill was giving a performance. After hearing it so many times I thought I would grow sick of it and an album of that calibre I never could. The thought was there though and I would have been less fortunate to have disliked an album only due to hearing it too many times -- I didn't want to take the chance of wasting it. Her throaty and melodic flows flow through my body and keeps it in warmth with thoughts and memories. Someone was with me on that walk and I was definitely assured of that when I looked to my right to see a movie theatre. The only Dolby 6.1 Digital Wide Screen Surround Sound in Dharamsala. The 8:30 movie playing was Samsara. I looked at the name and stopped in my tracks. I couldn't figure out why I knew this name. I searched and then it hit me... right in my stomach. An image of someone made a guest appearance and I watched them speak the word "Samsara". Thank you for suggesting it for it was the first movie I had seen in India.

It was definitely an experience in more ways than one. I am currently surrounded by Tibetan monks theologizing and carrying on like monks do. The movie came at the right time in the right place. Something I keep finding myself in.

This morning I woke up and was sitting on the front steps of my guesthouse when a South Korean man named Ta Tha Gata strolled by, I had met him the previous evening. He is a simple man only wearing one piece of fabric intricately wrapped around his amazing physique. His hair flows like the mane of well oiled Arabian thoroughbred reaching the bottom of his back. We shared in great conversation of travels, Canada and of course hair. We walked the Kora - circumambulating in a counterclockwise direction around the temple, the Tsuklhakhang, in which there is a long route and a short route. The short called the Kora, with Lingkor being the long route. I've seen elder gentlemen with personal prayer wheels and they are twirled so effortlessly that it appears that they twirl on their own accord. Along the path there are many Prayer Mills and it is not uncommon to hear people saying under their breath Om Mani Padme Hung, the main mantra of Chenrezig (Bodhisattva) who Tibetans believe His Holiness the Dalai Lama to be a manifestation of. Reciting this mantra, it is thought that one accumulates merit.

I then proceeded to Carpe Diem, a restaurant, where I finally introduced myself to Carly - the Australian who puts an ear to ear grin on your face upon crossing her path. I was privy to a creative storm between some musicians, then off to enjoy a fine cappuccino and witness the making of fresh Muesli on top of the restaurant. I ventured out to the street and passed on my Salaam's to all the Kashmiri fellows and then joined one in three blistering matches of chess. I wish I could upload the pictures of what I saw next. A sadhu (holy man) with a costumed snake filled with fire crackers and upon whipping himself do the firecrackers crack. He was accompanied by a young boy playing a drum - a scene for all of us in the street and the Tibetan refugees staring from their windows. I will however post them when I get the chance.

I don't want to leave this paradise in the clouds. There are too many good people and exhanges to be had. Everyday has been something new with someone new. It was said once if you can't say it yourself, find someone who can. Tenzin Tsundue is a poet whom I've come across here in Dharamsala and I share with you...

HORIZON

From home you have reached
the Horizon here.
From here to another
here you go.

From there to the next
next to the next
horizon to horizon
every step is a horizon.

Count the steps
and keep the number.

Pick the white pebbles
and the funny strange leaves.
Mark the curves
and cliffs around
for you may need
to come home again.

-Tenzin Tsundue

3 comments:

  1. It's interesting that I come to your journal and you mention Tibetan refugees you've met while in India. There was a feature in the paper today about a local charity that is working to help Tibetan children who somehow make their way to India get educated and also get a chance to visit their families every so often. :)

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  2. Is it really though? I propose that it is not ;)

    It's been an eye opener to say the least.

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  3. Well, from the article it seems like the charity is just starting out after a number of its founders came back from visiting Tibet and India...

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