By Lhundup Gyalpo
A bunch of yellow and listless leaves rustled in a small eddy by the closed door. The wind blew in a melancholic whirl, whistling in a doleful hum. Nine thirty-two in the morning, the house was still dimly lit, bereft of light; a thick overcast kept the sun away in its sombre folds.
Read moreWritten by Rinchen Angmo
Rainbow body. What could it possibly mean? I had often come across this term, without being able to fathom how one could logistically turn into a rainbow body. I’m no closer than I was, but I suppose I have given it some thought. After all, if we look close enough, we’re bound to notice the creation of rainbows in our everyday experience of the light and sound show called life.
Different schools of Tibetan Buddhism have their own terminology to express the Buddhist notion of emptiness. From what I understand, the Nyingma school expresses it in the form of a rainbow body.
Read more-Written and photographed by Rinchen Angmo
Seasons, they come and go, just like the thoughts in my mind. Even feelings come and go, but they stay a while longer than thoughts do. Yellow leaves, do they make me think of different songs?
Somehow even when I’m not in my homeland, my mind invariably registers different months vis-à-vis the seasons of my homeland. May, there will be apricot blossoms in Ladakh; June, the weather in Ladakh will be pleasant; October, the leaves will turn yellow; December, it will be very cold in Ladakh. That’s why no matter where I am, my mind always understands different months through the lens of the different seasons of Ladakh.
