By Rinchen Angmo
Someday we’ll stand in front of Singey Khababs (River Indus),
It’ll be a witness to us,
To our hopes and dreams,
To our tears and screams,
Peering at sorrow while navigating life outside home/in hostel
By Lungmying Lepcha
“Put yourself behind my eyes and see me as I see myself, for I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see “ -Rumi
I used to think that aamik (translated as eyes in Lepcha) is the only way one can perceive life. Aamik in Lepcha means eyes. It is an impactful word among my family members who mostly wear glasses for better vision. I believe it is with the aamik that we are able to peer at the world.
Read moreནོར་བུ། / Gem
By Manya Ohri
Read moreThe cold echoes from home
Written by Lungmying Lepcha
the cold
crisp
winds
from the breath of the mountain
knocks through my table and to my ear
to wake me up
from the still sleep I occupy
in the afternoon sun ,
The Dandelion: When we sat down to read!
reflections on the experience of reading in public with ladakh writer’s club
By Lhundup Gyalpo
Picture this: An alpine desert forest is yet to receive its share of rain. For now, all it boasts of is an overgrowth of shrubs and thorns; dull, prickly, and urgently jostling for every nook of the forest. In a busy yet insipid corner of the parched forest, a yellow dandelion blooms silently, perky yet serene, pleasing to watch, and assuredly present.
Read moreThe Frozen Mirror
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 moreStills from Mussoorie
By Priya Srivastava
Read moreReminiscing about Kumathang
Written by Divya Sharma
Read moreStills from Arunachal
By Shreyansh Pradhan
3 june 2024
3 june 2024
The rainbow within
Written 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 moreOn Dams and Electricity: A Story from Malana
By Sonam C
In the early summer of 2018, right after I had finished my Class 12 CBSE Board exams, I went with my family to the village of Malana. When I recall this time, I instinctively tell people “We went on a spiritual tour, like a pilgrimage.” Hardly, anyone believes that a group consisting of me, my sister, my mother, uncle and aunt, my cousin, her husband and her two kids travelled and trekked to Malana to pay our respects to the local god Jamlu.
Read moreA Mountain Escapade!
Roots
A poem written by Lungmying Lepcha
I am because
we are
(A quote inspired by Cholhamu Lepcha )
It’s within me “deep inside “
We are not known by our surname
but by our anum Chu (mountains) ,
anom and anum
Aungkyongsong (rivers)
our mother Rungyu and father Rungeet
our eldest brother Anum Kongchen (Mt Kanchenjunga) and
to all the clans connected
within us .
apricot blossoms, a note.
-Written by Rinchen Angmo
Spid is the closest possible translation of spring in Ladakhi, yet the aura that the word carries is markedly different. The word spring has this feeling of freshness. Yet when I think of the word for spring in Ladakhi, that is spid, it reminds me of the windy days in April and of course apricot blossoms. According to my Abile (granny) spid aligns with the first three months of our traditional calendar. Typically, spid is characterised by strong winds known as spid lungs or spring winds. Hence, the Ladakhi image of spring is quite different from the one that is conjured by the English word.
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