by Rachna Chopra
Initiation happens in many a mysterious way. Sometimes through touch, sometimes through gaze, sometimes through word, and did you know, sometimes through rain? Yes, when a sudden shower of rain takes you by surprise, and drenches your spirit in inexplicable bliss, know that you have been initiated by the power of a spirit higher than yours. How fast this distance was covered from bondage to freedom, you fail to fathom. But then isn’t freedom about not caring how the prison bar clicked open, and how you were set free?

This time, when the road opened up, I saw myself moving toward a small dwelling in Northern India amidst towering peaks and narrow lanes that are filled with the aroma of thukpas, the tinkle of prayer wheels and the click of rosaries. The color filled streets of McCleod Ganj in Dharamshala, fondly called Little Tibet, piqued at me as I jumped off the bus with my luggage and headed towards Tara Guest House. Strolling through the Tibetan bazaar tucked warmly between old town houses, curio shops and baskets of freshly baked bread, my gaze continually got distracted by bright tribal handicrafts, sacred symbols and colorful tankhas on display. I finally bought one tribal wooden rosary with counters, and days rolled past smoothly in McCleod Ganj, as effortlessly as the prayer wheels roll forth with one gentle push of a devout hand.

Dharamshala is not just a popular hill station known for its idyllic surroundings amidst pine trees, tea gardens and snow capped mountains –- it is home to the Dalai Lama. It is an interesting mix of Hinduism and Buddhism, and one can see ancient monasteries built in the 8th century by Tibetan immigrants, as well as Hindu temples of Shiva and Durga built by Hindu inhabitants of the region. In this quaint sacred town, it rains often and much. The streets are almost always moist, not just with rainwater, but with the continual yearning of Tibetans. The weather is whimsical, as is the season of…wait! Suddenly, the sky twists, writhes in pain and pours, and suddenly the sun shines. When the weather clears up a bit, one marches forth in the direction of steaming momos and appetizing vegetable soups. Mornings mean lazing in the guesthouse over a book, and evenings mean a walk down to the Namgyal monastery to soak in the rhythmic chant of the monks. Cute children, warm houses, bookstores, poetry, pain and prayers –- these are some of the things that make Little Tibet, and rise up in memory as I smile back on those few rested days.

Strangely, my mind found rest in this town that is restless for a sniff of freedom. My soul met with peace in a place where freedom sleeps, aching to be kissed awake. Perhaps all because something about the town exudes the feeling that freedom of a different kind has indeed paid a visit to its lanes. Half the town is monk, the other is half-monk with smiles adorning their peaceful countenances, and rosaries adorning their hands, that are constantly clicking away at the beads of hope. The whole town is waiting, and so patiently at that, gathering around the Dalai Lama’s love, as bees gather around honey or kids gather around the father for solace in times of need. The Lama’s compassionate presence envelopes each soul in the strong currents of its folds.

I, too, longed for the glimpse of the Lama, who walked barefoot to McCleod Ganj through the Himalayas in the year 1952. His presence is like the Sun to this town, covered perpetually by the looming dark clouds. Wearing my rain cover, I went to request a dialog. It was pouring when I reached the monastery, with tiny pink flowers tucked in my palms as an offering. I was ready to receive my teaching — the teaching that frees. Disappointed in learning that the Lama was observing silence and a meeting would not be possible, I was walking back in slow sad steps, when inspiration struck. The teaching descended from the Holy One. I curled open my palm, and in a gesture of courageous knowing, sprinkled the pink flowers on my head, exclaiming “Om Mane Padme Hum.” I am the jewel in the lotus of the heart! I knew then, that I had received the teaching meant for me, the teaching that freed! The earth beneath my feet swelled up, the grass smiled. My gait became bouncy. I removed my rain cover, and drenched myself completely in this rain of initiation and, like a dainty deer, leaped forth to explore the seams of this newly found consciousness. The sky suddenly cleared up and the sun shone in my moist eyes.