It was a sunny morning in November 1993 when I walked up the long zigzag stairs at Dharamshala bus station, carrying a heavy green bag and accompanied by my 10 year old younger sister and many other new Tibetan arrivals.
I was sent to SOS Tibetan Childrens Village Suja school along with my sister, four hours by bus from Dharamsala. When we got off the bus we were taken to home number six. Finally I had found a place to stay after crossing the fearful borders and travelling day and night and missing my mother, at last there was somebody who would be like a mother to me in my new home.
I went to the Central University of Tibetan Studies at Sarnarth, which was the most happy period of my life! I fell in love with sports there, and completed my MA in Tibetan Buddhist philosophy in 2010.
I am 30 years old now; and living in an Indian house in Mcleod Ganj which I rent at Rs.1800.00 per month. I wake up at 8:00 am and begin my day with two km of jogging, ten minutes of yoga exercise followed by a heavy breakfast of tsampa and two cups of Amdo tea. The fancy Asian Plaza, the X-ite building which is being repaired, the British mansion styled Mcllo Restaurant, and the single-floor Nowrojee house form the main square in McleodGanj where I sell Tamding Arts “I Love Tibet” T-Shirts and other clothing products. I just lean back against the front wall of Mcllo’s for my breaks and to look at the world.
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“For the bag Rs.300.00 and for the T-shirts 600.00”. As I replied, she smiled and said “isn’t there any discount? I have bought many things from you”. “Ok! I can make you Rs.50.00 less, where do you come from?” I like to interact with the tourists. She said “my parents are Punjabi but I am living in London”. When I heard that, a question came into my head and I asked her “are you happy living separated from your parents and home?” For me, it is very, very, painful. My teenage years and youthful 20s have gone without my parents being there to see, and now my parents are wearing more and more wrinkles on their faces and I don’t know whether I will get a chance to take care of them as they get older. This year, my father is 64 and mother is 54, could you please help me to calculate my parents’ age in 1993? They were so young! You may think, why I am not going back to visit them? My answer to that is “I can’t because I am not the same person as I was in 1993, I am a man of 2013 now”. During my stay in India, I have learnt many new things about my country, for example, the Peoples’ Republic of China is not my government, rather, the PLC is an invader of my country.
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Last year my parents came from Tibet to attend the Kalachakra teachings of HH the Dalai Lama in Bodh Gaya, and we met for the first time in 19 years.
I was waiting for them in Majnukatila, the Tibetan settlement in New Delhi when my dad called me to say that they were on the other side of the road. I crossed the twenty footsteps of the flyover bridge like a length of the triple jump in the field and hugged him to me. My mom’s voice broke the silence, saying “finally we have met by the grace of the Lord Three Jewels and HH the Dalai Lama, I have been praying for this meeting whenever I visit the temples, there wasn’t a day I haven’t missed you!” When I was holding her to me, I heard a tiny voice by my ear saying “what funny things grand mom and uncle are doing! Everyone is watching us!” It was a boy of 9 or 10 years. What a lovely child with shining black hair, big round reddish cheeks, deep black eyes, and white teeth – he has the same look as my younger sister in Tibet.
It was an unforgettable, emotional meeting; it will remain forever in my memory. Even though it is said “nothing lasts forever”.
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