Tapestries
Raminder Kaur
I visited dalai lama temple in dharmashala..such a peaceful and great place..all people were so much down to earth .the morning prayers were so peaceful .may b i dnt [sic] understand what they were saying but it touches the heart .the same thing is in harmandir sahib (golden temple) . U feel in heaven there .about dalai lama ji i will say that he is a great guru . a great soul. (Gurpreet Singh) [1]
While British Asians from Sikh backgrounds go to the Harmandir Sahib when visiting Panjab especially with their family, they also visit other places of worship and sites out of a mix of spiritual intrigue, adventure, and touristic consumption. These people tend to be tertiary educated younger generations with a bold impulse to go beyond the usual rounds of ancestral village, relatives’ homes, shops, and gurdwara in India. Some of them may also take older generations with them on their trips. Occasionally, they depart from kinship obligations and travel around the country with their Western friends.
One case regarding visiting another centre of pilgrimage is the mountainside town known as McLeod Ganj. It is about four hours’ drive from the holy city of Amritsar. Developed around the residence of the exiled fourteenth Dalai Lama, the place is colloquially referred to as Little Lhasa or Dhasa by its Tibetan residents. McLeod Ganj was formerly a summer hill station for colonial British elites and military cantonments. The residence of the former British Viceroy, Lord Elgin (1862-3), was offered to the refugee Dalai Lama, also known as Tenzin Gyatso, by the Indian government in 1960 after a failed uprising against the Chinese Communist Party’s annexation and eventual control of Tibet, a process that started in 1950.
McLeod Ganj is a suburb in Dharamshala in the Kangra District of what is now Himachal Pradesh, a region carved out of Panjab based on the Hindi language in 1966 and attributed statehood in 1971. Himachal Pradesh borders Tibet on its eastern side and now houses the capital for the Tibetan government-in-exile and the axis of a particular Mahayana branch of Buddhism. McLeod Ganj is carved out by spiralling roads and hairpin turns with houses, shops, restaurants, cafes, hotels, and monasteries clinging on to the side of the mountain. In 2022, a cable car service, Dharamshala Skyway, was opened. The region is scattered with Hindu pilgrimage centres in the Dhauladhar range of the Western Himalayas renowned to be dev bhumi or the ‘land of deities’. The mountain range harbours mandir (Hindu temples) dedicated to Chamunda Devi, Shiva (Bhaijnath and Bhagsu Nag), and Jwalamukhi with its sacred flame deemed to be eternal. But these do not attract the attention of British Sikhs so much as Dharamshala with its many Tibetan Buddhist monasteries. Most important here is the ‘Dalai Lama Temple’ or Tsuglag Khang with its statues of Shakyamuni Buddha, the 108 avatars of the bodhisattva (a person who is on the path towards bodhi or 'awakening') embodying the compassion of the Buddha known as Avalokitesvara. The current Dalai Lama is deemed another incarnation of Avalokitesvara.
Pilgrim-Tourist and Sikh-Buddhist Tapestries
Like many other people across the world, British Sikhs have also begun to take a keen interest in the Dalai Lama. ‘His Holiness’ is used without compunction to address him even if he be from another spiritual lineage. The non-sectarian philosophy of Tibetan Buddhism is also an attraction, one that has not become the basis of violence against minorities as occurred with Theravada monks in nearby countries of Sri Lanka and Myanmar.
Indeed, Buddhist philosophy lends itself to a ‘scientific’ school of thought based on individual investigation about the internal and external worlds, the mind and consciousness. This philosophy sits well with those of a questioning temperament, and blends with the investigation of matter and the reformation of superstitious practices that define Sikh ideals. Aims to defeat one’s ego and materialistic desires in the path to nirvana are also shared. Moreover, Tibetan Buddhism espouses a spirit of justice and resistance to oppression, and in some ways, is comparable with the growth of Sikhism from the seventeenth century against the tyrannous rule of Mughal emperors and governors after the more tolerant rule of Akbar, and more recent events when Panjab was under attack by the Indian state from the 1980s. Museums have been set up in remembrance to the religious cultures respectively at both locations.
Among the spectrum of differences, spiritual and political parallels lead to what might be termed a ‘New Age Sikhism’. The notion of tapestry alludes to a weaving and unweaving of experiences and discourses contingent on context and temporality. While the notion of an intricate mandala might be better suited to Tibetan Buddhism, the tapestry here is less organised where diverse narratives may be spun together to make sense of a physical-spiritual experience at a place of worship.
One British Sikh youth underlined how it was important to connect with the spirit and the earth through such places: ‘It makes you value people and the planet. Everywhere else it is so polluted’. This more environmentalist orientation did not rule out the fact that she felt ‘spiritually connected there’. The phenomenon alludes to an immersive and affective experiences of, on one level, being in the place and, on another level, being transported out of the place into a sublime-sacral spectrum.
Despite the golden glories of the Harmandir Sahib, the increasing pollution and congestion of the city of Amritsar is at best tolerated and at worst has put off international visitors especially during the smoggy winter months. A ‘retreat to the hills’ becomes a viable solution to those who are both spiritually and ecologically attuned. On the road trip, one might also pass through Dera Nanak Sahib near Gurdaspur in north Panjab, and see the recently opened border-crossing Corridor to Kartarpur Sahib in Pakistan where Guru Nanak spent his last years as a householder.
Pilgrimage, if the term is to be used for British Sikh visits to Dharamshala, falls into tourism networks but retrieved again through a seeking of comparable narratives on universal divinity and philosophy – spiritual tourism perhaps. Such visits to Dharamshala are for the liberal, exploratory Sikh as opposed to staunch orthodox Sikhs, so less for amritdharis or those who have gone through the amrit sanskar initiation ceremony to adhere to the ‘Five K’s’ or articles of faith of Sikhism established by the tenth guru, Guru Gobind Singh, in 1699.
But even among amritdhari Sikh, there is a degree of elastic convergence. Amritdhari members of the highest authority for gurdwara management in the Punjab, Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee (SGPC), demonstrate much respect for the Dalai Lama, hosting him at the shrine in Amritsar while also concurring with his teachings against the caste system and the value of hard work for the community. Indeed, the Dalai Lama’s visit to the Harmandir Sahib in 2019 was described as a pilgrimage by Tibetan Buddhists, and he was filmed paying obeisance, taking prashad (devotional offering that is shared) and honoured with a saropa (a scarf of honour), a model of the Harmandir Sahib, and a book, Guru Nanak and his Teachings for Humanity by Harchinder Kaur and Gurpal Singh (2019).
In 2012, Shabd Singh Khalsa (2012) who hailed from Britain reported on how he had to see the Dalai Lama after going through a thick cordon of security measures due to concerns about Chinese-backed assassination attempts of the Dalai Lama. He recounts a story of his friend, which I cite at length for its insights:
‘He wears Nihang bana, the garb of a Sikh warrior. Blue dumalla [two-cloth] turban, blue chola [robe], long kachera [shorts], and covered head to toe in melee [handheld] weapons of all sizes: small blades in his turban, a long sword by his side, punching dagger in his belt. Needless to say, passing through the metal detector to see His Holiness was going to be a problem…Before he reached the security check, one of the guards approached him and, to his surprise, directed him around the metal detector.
“Brother,” asked Gurmeet, “thank you, but why have you allowed this?” The Tibetan security guard smiled and said, “don’t worry, we’re from the same house! Werevere [sic] Nanak as a Lama, so I know I can let you through.” Gurmeet continued on and found a spot in the temple. His Holiness came before the assembly and began to teach. He entertained questions from the many devout Buddhists in attendance…
Gurmeet raised his hand. When he was called on, he stood and said, “I don’t know how to greet you, so I will greet you as I greet the Khalsa [company of fully initiated Sikhs]: Waheguru Ji Ka Khalsa-” the Dalai Lama finished his greeting: “Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh! What can I do for you Singh Sahib?” Gurmeet replied, “Your Holiness, I don’t know how to ask you a question because I don’t know all of your traditions. I simply ask if I can touch your feet.” His Holiness laughed and granted his wish. After the teaching session, Gurmeet was invited by an attendant of His Holiness to dine with the monks and stay with them for the night. He slept at the temple and woke in the early morning and read his paath [verses from the Shri Guru Granth Sahib] while the monks read their’s [sic]’.
While retaining his identity as an amritdhari Sikh, Gurmeet is welcomed by the security guard as well as by the Dalai Lama as he is seen to be ‘from the same house’. This house owes to a remarkable extent to the lynchpin of Guru Nanak Dev (1469-1539).
Affinities and Infinities
Among their differences, philosophical parallels are replete between Sikhism and Buddhism as outlined in Satvinder Kaur Gill and Sonam Wangmo’s book, Two Gurus One Message: The Buddha and Guru Nanak: Legacy of Liberation, Egalitarianism and Social Justice. In a gesture of reciprocity, it was published online by the Dharamshala-based Library of Tibetan Works and Archives in 2019.
Such lines of affinity are also recognised by my interlocutors. The comparison comes out sharply when marking out differences with other religious traditions - as with the dismissal of the ‘Creator God’ of Abrahamic religions, and the apparent polytheism of popular Hinduism. While Tibetan Buddhism is a neighbourly house to Sikhism, Islam and Hinduism are birthing houses from which mainstream Sikhism has departed owing to several social and political developments over the years. This departure is not merely to do with religious or spiritual content - for the Sikh ideal of openness to all religious remains - but more a consequence of political dynamics in which Sikhs and Buddhists have found themselves under state oppression in India and Tibet/China respectively. A spiritual mythos has been bulwarked by mutual respect and political affinities from the late twentieth century for religious movements that both arose in the Gandhara region of north India, even though two millennia separate their emergence.
The fact that Guru Nanak Dev had visited the Tibetan region on one of his four udasi (detached or a monastic journey) further consolidates intergroup alliances. It was widely articulated that Sikhs regard Buddhism with respect while Tibetan Buddhists venerate Sikhism as they profess that Guru Nanak Dev was a reincarnation of Guru Rinpoche. Both gurus had travelled from India to spread their wisdom, and both are associated with popular stories about miraculous powers, particularly to do with the taming of demons.
As a sage who meditated, sang kirtan (devotional music) and exchanged philosophical views with other spiritual leaders, one interlocutor reflected that ‘Guru Nanak Dev may also have met the first Dalai Lama who was a living in Potala Palace at the time’. Another interlocutor noted how ‘Tibetan Buddhists believe that Guru Nanak Dev is the Buddha on earth, or a guru in the sense of a teacher of humanity. He was called Lama Nanak by them and still is. Did you see the Tibetan monks in the Golden Temple?’
It is true that Mahayana Buddhists go to the Harmandir Sahib on the way to Dharamshala in the spirit of veneration of Lama Nanak (also referred to as Rinpoche Nanak Guru or Guru Gompka Maharaj).¹ The British-based Buddhist, Tarungpa Tulku (1966), elaborates:
‘Many of our pilgrims visited Amritsar and other holy places which they looked upon as equal in importance to Buddha-Gaya [Bodhgaya where the Buddha received enlightenment]. They always said that the Sikhs treated them with great respect and were very hospitable: "as our expression goes, they bowed down to their feet." It seems that the Sikhs really practice the doctrine of their religion; perhaps they are the only ones who give such wonderful dana [generous giving without expectation of return] to travellers’ (Tulku 1966).
Following on from the ‘wonderful dana to travellers’, Tulku notices how offerings should be given to the entire universe, not individualised deities, for the universe was a beautiful blessing without which no one would exist:
‘Both Guru Nanak and the Buddha said to their followers that the real nature of the universe should not be limited by the idea of personal god and gods. Those who made offerings at their shrines should remember that the whole universe was the power offering offered before and to itself’ (Tulku 1966).
Tulku’s comment recalls notions of the ‘pure gift’ (Mauss [1925] 2005). But the questions arises whether the return for making an offering could be spiritual merit - in which case is there anything that is not self-interested?
Visiting the Dalai Lama Complex
Going to the higher lands was a sublime and energising experience. This would usually be for 2-3 days and sometimes longer if the group had more time so as ‘to relax and breathe the mountain air’ in McLeod Ganj. When entering sacred complexes, prayer wheels were turned with playful zeal, diya (oil lamps) were lit with reflection, the exquisite decoration of the shrines admired, and the donations of biscuits, chocolates and cakes stacked neatly on the sides of the statues viewed as delightful (Figures 1 and 2). The latter reminded Sikhs of donations of milk, sugar and so forth for communal food at gurdwara - never anything salty or sour - but here placed in a much more organised manner. Any journey of respect or faith, however, came with a modicum of discerning disbelief as the idea of worshipping a statue was a tad uncomfortable. Regardless, financial donations were given at the Buddhist shrines but less than at gurdwara. 50 or 100 rupees were often placed in donation boxes in front of the statues. There were less collection boxes around the Dalai Lama Temple when compared to the Harmandir Sahib. Where they were present, monks sat nearby offering receipts for prashad. As one monk said, ‘The best gift is dhamma’ – that is, only give out of love (meta), not out of a sense of wanting a return on it of some sort. Whether it be cash or otherwise, the donation has to come from the heart. Otherwise, it is worthless.
Figure 1: Prayer wheels in Buddhist shrine, McLeod Ganj.
Figure 2: Diya lit in veneration at Buddhist shrine complex, McLeod Ganj.
If sacredness and transformation define the pilgrim experience, then visits to Dharamshala demonstrated a degree of this phenomena. The Dalai Lama Temple was particularly revered as sacred as was the personage of the Dalai Lama around which the complex and town has grown. Transformation was apparent spiritually and intellectually when visitors took to contemplate the meaning of life and the intricacies of Buddhist philosophy and practices. But while interest in Buddhism was expressed it was not enough to want to convert. Rather the impulse was to blend the two houses and see some productive parallels that enriched an understanding of Sikhism. One person remarked on how much shanti (peace) was in the Dalai Lama Temple. ‘Is this a pilgrimage for you?’ I asked. ‘Yes, it is. But it is also about getting to know about another culture, see how they worship, and learning from them. God is One’. I added, ‘But Buddhists don’t believe in a God’. ‘It doesn’t matter’, she said, ‘They believe in something. We don’t know what God is. It is something beyond us and perhaps we are just using different words to explain the same experience’.
The Heart of the Tapestry
One aspect remains a constant amidst the weaving and unravelling of a tapestry, and that is the charismatic magnetism of the Dalai Lama. In 2022, I also had the chance to meet the Dalai Lama. A conjunction of chance and resolve to visit the Office of His Holiness led to an appointment. Three days later, I had to wake up at 6 am to travel to the Dalai Lama’s residence for a group meeting. While we waited to enter the secure compound among a mixture of Nepalese Buddhists, international and Indian visitors of Hindu and Sikh backgrounds, and a few local residents from Kangra District, we were instructed to wear face masks and our hands sprayed with disinfectant by a member of staff. About half an hour later, our names were called out one-by-one from a list and we entered the first room next to the grand gate that led up to the Dalai Lama’s residence. We were checked for COVID-19 with a Covid Rapid Test (nasal swab) before being allowed to go into a second room with our masks on, where we were called out again one by one and asked to show our identification. Then we ventured out into the drive that led to the Dalai Lama’s residence. Here men and women were split to be scanned and patted down by security guards. Our phones and bags were taken away, ticketed, and lined up on a table in exchange for a token. Any gifts for the Dalai Lama were put on a communal trolley and were to be taken to him afterwards. We had bought some flowers – these too were put on the trolley. In this case, donations were not to be individualised nor even encouraged for ‘a heart brimming with love would have been enough’ to give to the Dalai Lama, as one person explained.
After these friendly yet strict security protocols around the gate, we were taken to another building with walls covered with photographs and books. About 12 of us sat and waited quietly for about half an hour to join another receiving line up the drive. While we waited, we reflected on how fortunate we were to get in to see the Dalai Lama, now in his winter years at the age of 87. Some of the attendees had a silk white ceremonial scarf, a katha, to give to the Dalai Lama that I had mistakenly called a saropa as in Sikh rituals of honour. Later we were told that even this could not be given and those that brough them just kept them around their own necks.
Eventually, about 8 am, there was a little bit of a commotion, and the Dalai Lama came out to sit in front of his residence on a chair. He was surrounded by a medley of monks and security guards along with a photographer and an interpreter should the Dalai Lama need any further explanations in Tibetan. We were elated to catch a glimpse of him. We felt an extraordinary warm breeze, as our animated discussions afterwards revealed. Was it to do with his spiritual aura or more to do with our expectations learnt largely though the global image he has acquired in the media and international diplomacy? Was the aura earthly or other-worldly or both? It was hard to say but it was definitely palpable. Some of the pilgrims broke down in tears when they saw him. Others just stood in awe, wondering what had hit them.
To my surprise and despite the COVID-19 precautions, when we approached the Dalai Lama, we could touch the Dalai Lama and hold his hands. We were introduced by the interpreter with a brief as to where we came from, and whatever we said was relayed to him while a photograph was taken (Figure 3). He acknowledged us all with a short response, along with a smile and a nod of the head. After this short conference was over, we were asked to stand around or sit in front of him so as our photograph could be taken in small groups. At this point we could take off our masks. We looked to the camera, some of us touching his arms, others in the pose of prayer, smiling at the camera. The photos were drop-boxed to us a day afterwards by another member of staff.
Figure 3: Meeting the Dalai Lama at his residence in McLeod Ganj, 2022.
When departing, we felt that it was like leaving a dear beloved. Emotions welled up as tears came to our eyes and we took in the gravity of what had just happened – was this real? Is he really the incarnation of the Buddha on earth? We did not have the answers – only a sense of reaching a summit of some sort. A brown envelope with prashad was offered to each of us by one of the staff members as we walked down the drive.² We looked back to see if the Dalai Lama was still there so that our eyesight could endorse the reality of what we had just experienced. Satisfied that he was, we walked away slowly - thoughtfully yet blissfully to the rise of a new dawn.
References
Khalsa, Shabd Singh. (2012). ‘An Audience with the Dalai Lama’, Sikh Dharma International. 16 November. An Audience with the Dalai Lama.
Mauss, Marcel ([1925] 2005). The Gift: The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies, London: Routledge.
Tulku, Tarungpa (1966). ‘Guru Nanak in Tibet – A Buddhist Viewpoint’ originally published in the Indian Express, 6 March reproduced on Sikhism - " A Buddhist Viewpoint ".
Footnotes
1 Tibetan Buddhists also have their own ‘Golden Temple’ in south India owing to the sheen of the three statues inside the Namdroling Monastery (aka Thegchog Namdrol Shedrub Dargyeling).
2 I later opened the envelope to find that it contained a scared red thread, a photograph of the Buddha of Compassion, and some minute brown balls in plastic packages that the Secretary to the Office of His Holiness the Dalai Lama explained were ‘herbal pills that have been blessed by His Holiness. Tibetans take one or two every day or after every few days just as parshad’.