Ashis Dutta visits Rumtek monastery in Sikkim and learns about the fascinating manner in which Karmapas are chosen.
‘What is your name?” I asked the young lama, some twelve years old. “Karma Tenzing.” “How long have you been here?” Tenzing looked at me with his blissful eyes that were absolutely elemental, devoid of any emotion or complication.
‘What is your name?” I asked the young lama, some twelve years old. “Karma Tenzing.” “How long have you been here?” Tenzing looked at me with his blissful eyes that were absolutely elemental, devoid of any emotion or complication.
Yet, so very human. For a moment, his black pupils jerked left, as if to recall a past he had left long behind. “Since I was two years old,” said Tenzing. “And where from have you come here in Rumtek? Do you remember?” “Yes. From Tibet.” Our conversation, which was going on in whispering mode, in broken Hindi, inside the shrine at the Rumtek Monastery, came to an abrupt halt. Three middle aged lamas had entered the shrine and Tenzing refused to carry on with me. Though the visit to the famous Rumtek Monastery was the last in my itinerary in Sikkim, I realised, by hindsight, that Rumtek was indeed the beginning. And in my naivety to look for a grand finale to my Himalayan voyage, Rumtek deprived me of an end. “The story begins some nine hundred years ago, in the twelfth century,” said Lama Wangchuk, whose age stood still, motionless, much like the Buddha, and I could only hazard a hopeless guess of somewhere between forty and seventy five. We were sitting on the stairs that has joined the low inner courtyard of the monastery to the long verandah with the living quarters of the lamas on the other side. I sat a step lower, like an ardent disciple, looking up to the master. And I was still speculating his age, still ignorant of how 'time' has to be reconstructed at the Rumtek Monastery. Lama Wangchuk's eyes reflected the endless vista of the great Tibetan Plateau, the majesty of the Tsurphu Monastery in central Tibet from where our story had begun. In the Holy Scripture of Samadhirajasutra, The Buddha Sakyamuni had prophesied about the greatness of one who would be known as the 'Knower of Three Times.' More than a millennium later, born in 1110, Dusum Khyenpa fulfiled this prophesy. He then started the Karma Kagyu lineage of Buddhism as its First Karmapa and established the seat of The Gyalwa Karmapas in the magnificent Tsurphu monastery in central Tibet. The lineage continues still today with the Seventeenth Karmapa. “How is a Karmapa chosen?” I asked. Lama Wangchuk's pleasant face adorned another enlightened hue. “Each Karmapa is an incarnation of the previous Karmapa. And each possesses the ability to detail the circumstance of His next birth which is revealed in a letter. This letter is opened only after the death of the Karmapa. Then the search begins for the next Karmapa according to the signs and signals in the letter”. I was stunned. A Miss Marple story of a spiritual order!! Only, no crime committed here, but the intrigue remains the same, rather heightened in view of its international ramifications. I recalled the media stir all over the world when the current Karmapa, the seventeenth, was identified followed by not-so-comfortable issues with the Chinese authorities. “So, if Tsurphu Monastery is the seat of the Karmapa, what is here in Rumtek?” I asked. Lama Wangchuk was silent. Is he not eager to answer? Or is he collecting his thoughts? Has he heard me at all? I kept wondering. His Buddha like face, content and complete, gave me no clue. I tried to follow his gaze that went up, above the monastery roof-top, over the green mountain, to the tiny shred of a solitary cotton-white cloud that was drifting, slowly, in the blue sky. Towards Tibet? And then I startled at his voice, talking to me. The communist government of China occupied Tibet in 1950s. The Sixteenth Gyalwa Karmapa, Rangjung Rigpe Dorje, the holder of the sacred treasure of Vajradhara, decided to leave Tibet to preserve the spiritual legacy of the Karma Kagyu. Collecting seven hundred years of relics, text and wisdom, in 1959 with a small band of lamas and followers, He undertook a secret and arduous journey from Tsurphu through the arid highlands and came to Bhutan and then to Sikkim. The king of Sikkim Chogyal Tashi Namgyal offered land and assistance to build the monastery. Since then, Rumtek became the seat-in-exile of the Karmapas of the Karma Kagyu sect of Buddhism. By now, I was immersed in the story as Lama Wangchuk was unfolding. I could see the mule caravan raising the small cloud of cold frozen dust, the red-brown cloaks of the lamas flapping in the wind like the frill-end of prayer-flags, snaking their way through the high passes in the moonscape of Tibet, carrying with them treasures, secrets and profound wisdom. “The architecture of Rumtek Monastery is in line with that at Tsurphu, in the finest tradition of Tibetan Buddhism,” continued Lama Wangchuk. “But know what?” said he, his face beaming, “The detailed design of this entire monastery was drawn by the Sixteenth Karmapa Himself, from His inspiration and memory!” The four-storied monastery is a fine balance in grandeur and simplicity. Its wood-carvings and frescos depict the tantric art of Tibet. “But why Rumtek?” I asked, “Being 24 kilometres from Gangtok, in the 50s it was still quite remote.” Lama Wangchuk smiled and then suddenly stood up and beckoned me to follow him. We crossed the courtyard, climbed the stairs by the inner-side of the main entrance and came up on the terrace. The Lama drew me to the corner end of the terrace overlooking the valley and the hills and the mountains beyond. He pointed out the seven hills that faced the monastery. “There are also seven streams that flow towards the monastery,” he said, pointing in the different directions of the streams which were hidden behind the fold of the mountains and under the cover of thick foliage. “See the mountain behind, and also the snow-capped mountain in front there. Further, down below in the valley is a river that has spiralled in the shape of a conch-shell.” The Lama stopped and looked at me expectantly. This time, I did not disappoint him. “Yes, I think I understand,” I said haltingly, “all these are auspicious signs of nature indicating that this is a very special place.” Lama Wangchuk gave a disarming smile and bowed with his palms together in a namaskara. Initiation complete. He departed. I was left alone on the terrace, engulfed by a silence, with the seven hills and the seven streams, the mountains back and front, and the conch-shell shaped river, all singing to the glory of the sacred treasure of Vajradhara enshrined in the monastery in this Himalayan paradise. The sun had reclined. And reflected in a thousand sparkles from the golden crown of the Rumtek Monastery. FACT FILE Getting There Rumtek is 24 km from Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. To Gangtok, the nearest airport is Bagdogra (124 km) in West Bengal. The Railheads are Siliguri (114 km) and New Jalpaiguri (125 km). Leave the monsoon out, and you can visit any time else.Places to Stay Hotels of all budgets are available in Gangtok. Popular with tourists for comfort and view are Hotel Tashi Delek, Hotel Tibet, Superview Himachuli. Ask for room with the view of the magnificent Kanchanzongha Range.Helpful website: http://www.deccanherald.com/www.sikkiminfo.net/hotels.htm
In and Around Gangtok: Enchey Monastery, Do-Drul Chorten (Stupa), Namgyal Institute of Tibetology, Himalayan Zoological Park, Tsomgo Lake, Nathula Pass, Baba Harbhajan Singh Memorial.
