Taran’s eyes widened as the plane prepared to land. He peered out of his window. “Look, Amma! What a beautiful view.”
Amma craned her neck for a sweeping view of stark grey-brown mountains with white tops. The sky was a clear blue with a few cottony clouds. “There is something majestic about mountains,” she sighed.
“We are about 10,600 feet above sea level, which makes Kushok Bakula Rimpoche airport in Leh one of the highest airports in the world!” said Appa excitedly.
Taran and his family were in Leh for the Hemis festival, which was celebrated on the 10th day of the Lunar month according to the Tibetan calendar. It marks the birth anniversary of Guru Padmasambhava. But, before heading out, they had to rest for two days to get used to the reduced level of oxygen in the high altitude.
“How far is the Hemis monastery?” asked Taran.
“About about 40 km from Leh. Let’s get a taxi,” answered Appa.
In the taxi, the driver rattled on, “Sengge Namgyal was an illustrious ruler of Ladakh. He built the beautiful Hemis monastery in 1630. You will love it! It has been decorated for the two-day festival.”
They had arrived early to get a good spot to see the all the festivities. They were also told to be mindful of where they sat, as some seats were reserved for the lamas or Buddhist monks.
“It was a good idea to pack snacks and water from the hotel. The owner said that if you got up to go to the food stalls, you could lose your seat!” said Taran, as the family wandered around, trying to figure out where to sit.
“Terrace!” said Appa.
“First floor balcony!” said Amma.
“Courtyard!” said Taran.
Finally, after a round of stone, paper and scissors, Taran won.
“Okay, let’s sit in the courtyard before it fills up!” said Appa suddenly moving at lightning speed.
They were just in time. The beat of drums and cymbals filled the air. Soon the monks began the unique colourful masked dances called Cham. Amma had told Taran that it was a spiritual dance and to be respectful. “It is like an offering to the Gods; a meditation,” she explained.
Someone next to them explained that many of the dances depicted incidents from the life of Guru Padmasambhava. Some were small moral stories that were usually about the triumph of good over evil.
Taran was mesmerised by the costumes and the masks. He had not seen anything like them before. That evening, while munching on a momo, which was incidentally his favorite snack, he thought about the day. “Everything was so unique and different today but, Amma, don’t you think we are all the same? Festivals that celebrate our blessings and ultimately the triumph of good over evil.”
“That’s a very good observation,” said Amma dunking her momo into some authentic chilli sauce.
