A Night at a monastery
-Sidak Kaur
Each one of us begins to harbour dreams as a child. We cultivate stories, gather ambition and transform it all into an elaborate fantasy. It is the brittle innocence of childhood that somehow remains intact through the years and as adults, fuels our purpose and passion. That is the world that we grow up in. A world where we are constantly told that we can be, whatever we want to be. A world in which we are free to dream, free to choose our paths and mould them to our liking.
Imagine for an instant, you were to be robbed of that entirely. What if your entire life was laid out in front of your very eyes like a map? What if the moment you were born, you got handed a pre-destined fate? A fate of great disciple and devout sainthood, a fate of austerity. No choice but to rise to the occasion and follow the path ahead, no choice but to give up the material world and its order to live a monastic life.
We may believe that our global and modern world is the only world but departed from the chaos of concrete jungles, far beyond the threshold of technology… timeless lands rest in the folds of the great Himalayan terrain, where pious philosophies and ancient doctrines still dictate life. Mysterious and magnificent, these holiest of places remain shrouded by a magical mist, one that carries with it, for hundreds of miles, the scent of spirituality.
Ladakh has been home to the practice of Buddhism for centuries… here, in every village, there will be a winding road that leads to a monastery perched on a hill-top. Rising from the ground, tier after tier as if it were part of the craggy mountain itself, a monastery or a ‘gompa’ which translates to ‘solitary place’ is a living centre of worship, housing an elaborate complex of temples, hermitages, meditation caves, assembly and prayer halls, dining hall, school, dorms and quarters of the monks in order of their hierarchy.
Flanked by chortens and mane walls, with prayer flags fluttering in the wind, these medieval monasteries seem ethereal and enchanting, even from afar. Thikse Monastery is our residence for the night, in hope that the clouded curiosity with which monkhood is perceived, will dissipate slightly, if not entirely.
Built in the 15th century, it remains to this day, an exquisite monastery. Despite the presiding popular tourist culture, there is a sanctity and serenity that one witnesses within its walls. It truly is a parallel world, where the monks or lamas can be seen going about their varied duties.
The life of a monk can begin as early as the tender age of six. Frugal and austere it may be, yet it reflects profound peace and purity, devoid of all desire for attachment. However, the novice monks are animated and lively, their playful laughs resounding through the monastery could easily be deceived for the laughter of a child playing in a park. Though their duties surpass anything us adults can muster to bear, varying from attending school, reading scriptures, practicing meditation… Each novice monk is assigned to a tutor or master, who instills discipline, devotion and duty in his pupil. Punishment, on diverting from the path of abstinence, wisdom and method in any measure is common and some might say, crucial. For the greatest lesson of monkhood is detachment and learning about the impermanent aspects of existence. And that cannot be achieved without severity… Come a certain, pubescent age, they leave for higher studies. In olden times, the traditional journey would be towards Lhasa, Tibet. Today, it has embodied attending various Buddhist institutions across the country.
With the setting sun, life in a monastery begins to retreat, for each morning, at the break of dawn, the monks rise for prayers. Right below the main temples is our home for the night. A collection of rooms are open to anyone who wishes to spend a night at Thikse Monastery. Naturally, the quarters of the monks are entirely segregated. As the stars stitch the sky, silence falls over the monastery complex and an early night is called for. Safe to say, that the silence of a monastery at night contains its own exalted energy and it makes for the deepest slumber one can ever hope to have.
Rising before the light and to the expansive view of mighty mountains, it is with the lightest heart that one heads up to the assembly hall for the morning prayers. The monks begin their daily rituals as the sound of cymbals, conch shells and drums echoes elusively, carrying into the valley. Deep chanting and reading of scriptures is punctured only by the sweet cacophony of trumpets and drums, while novice monks rush to pour butter-tea for the elderly monks… Mantras wrapped in juniper incense travel through the air, as dawn breaks to give way to a new day.
A window into the other-worldly, staying at a monastery is a simple experience yet it enriches you eternally. Reminded of our material lives, within which we are free to own as many things as we like… free to attach ourselves to as much desire as we like… free to indulge and over-indulge in all the fantasies of life… Yes, one can never achieve the strength to abandon the material world, where we can’t seem to separate from our phones, even for day.
However, this time allows you to let everything else take a back-seat and reveals that there are much bigger forces at work in the universe. Of the many lessons and surprises, the most pleasant surprise is when one realises that there are simple acts that tie us all, monk and man. It becomes evident that for all the austerity associated with monks, they are like us, human beings trying to pave their way through this world. Their welcoming smiles, friendly banter and persistence to ensure you’ve had endless cups of butter tea, leaves you with the greatest lesson of all- that even though not all men can hope to be monks, what we can do is learn that humble gestures of kindness, go a long way in any world.