News and Views on Tibet

Opinion: A Few Words (for the people of Dingri)

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Tibetans in Dingri go through the rubble to find survivors following a devastating earthquake in Southern Tibet's Shigatse region (Photo/Tibet Fire and Rescue)

By Theurang

Translated by Bhuchung D. Sonam

It is now snowing in Dzoege, which is a district located in southern Amdo. The local people, who are used to the cold mountain wind, are busy in the narrow streets. The government officials, wearing badges of two different conferences on their necks, have a serious and strange expression written on their faces, much like today’s weather. I walk out of my house and go to a new coffee house nearby. Though my face is being bitten by the chilly wind, the coffee house is just one street away. I know the place is comfortably warmed, and so I don’t have to worry too much about this bitter wind. However, the terrible event that took place yesterday morning cannot be chased out of my mind.

Thinking about it now makes it even harsher. The terrible news that fell down like an iron ball from the sky – did it land in the valley of my heart? Because of the continuous pain in my heart, I cannot sit still. But where will I go? Go to the valley of pain? Go to the ruins of fallen walls and broken stones? Go to the people who’ve lost their fathers and mothers, their children and houses? To walk with those who carry heavy loads with so much pride and grace?

I am terribly sad because only my thoughts can travel there. And what use will that be? What benefit can a thought bring? This fills me with sadness. In the face of such suffering, only those who are physically there are the real allies and friends. They are the ones who bear the burden by taking care of the old, lifting the children, providing clothes to those who are feeling cold, and giving food to the hungry. They are the ones who lift up the fallen walls and clear away the rubble. But it is not just the bricks and stones that they lift up – they are hauling up the homes and pillars of that place. What they are lifting up are the lives of brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers. What they lift are the souls of courage, affection, pride and hope of our people.

In truth, they are fortunate to be able to get this opportunity to care for our brothers and sisters at their worst possible time. These are the best deeds in their lives. What could be a better practice of the “kyi duk nyam nyong” or “together in joy and sorrow” than this act? Where else can you talk about it and practice it?

Suddenly, suddenly, in the labyrinth of my heart, the pain and suffering of the people of Dingri multiply like mushrooms and fall down like rolling stones. Sitting here, I truly and deeply admire the work and dedication of those who are physically there with the people of Dingri. My admiration for them stirs like a sea of blood in my heart.

Perhaps because I am a child of a race that lives a solitary life, whenever I witness a large gathering of our people in times of sorrow or joy, I experience a knot in my throat and tears build in my heart. This gives me strength and the capacity to have endless dreams. It also brings me perpetual joy and sorrow. This time too, when I witness our people march in unity, like warriors of our ancient kings, my heart pulsates and my body shakes with pride.

Kye! Kye! My brothers and sisters whom I may not know… the people of Dingri, whom I also may not know – I am aware that these words I write from a warm place have not much strength. But this flower of compassion that grows from the depth of my affection is unblemished. I am in a position where I cannot walk to the staircase of the Potala Palace nor can I offer a khata to Jowo Rinpoche. I am the most unfortunate one. I am someone who wants to visit Central Tibet and yet the horse for my journey is reined in. I am someone who wants to go to the Ngari region but my limbs are shackled and manacled. I am powerless among the powerless.

I have not seen your tall mountains, where your vultures and deities reside. I have also not seen your faces that are nurtured by the wild and rough terrains. Nevertheless, today I feel the pain in your hearts and I can identify with your chests that can proudly bear the pain and the suffering.

Look at the white mountain rising up in the sky like a giant umbrella… isn’t that the soul mountain of your land? This indicates that your confidence has not fallen to the ground. Look at the path on which the sun of compassion travels… isn’t that the chest of your people? There’s never been a time when you’ve lost your love and compassion.

Today, dharma warriors are marching towards you like tongues of flame. Today, our brothers and sisters are marching towards you like fog in the mountains. Today, my heart is shaking like an earthquake after seeing you reciting mantras and rotating the hand-held prayer wheels while sitting on the dusty ground. Today, the river of my affection thunders from its depths after witnessing you on the roadside with hands folded and reciting prayers.

Witnessing all of this, the power of my speech and the strength of my mind have instantly diminished. When a person becomes overwhelmed with love and affection, the only recourse is to console oneself. There is nothing I can do except soothe my inner trembling self and my desperation. Just as you were made powerless before the natural disaster, I am made weak before the strength of love and affection of our people. I stand with you, my blood brothers and sisters! I stand with you, people of Dingri, who are the protectors of the snow mountains.

(Views expressed are his own)

Theurang or Tashi Rabten is a Tibetan writer and poet from the Tibetan province of Amdo. His poems and essays are well known for its stark honesty of Chinese rule in Tibet and the plight of Tibetans under colonial occupation. He was the editor of the banned literary magazine the Shar Dungri (Eastern Snow Mountain) on the 2008 protests in Tibet. He served four years in prison after the Ngaba Intermediate People’s Court on June 2, 2011, in a trial closed to Tashi’s family and friends, sentenced him to four years’ imprisonment on charges of “inciting activities to split the nation”.

The translator Bhuchung D. Sonam is a poet, writer and co-founder of TibetWrites, a Tibetan writers’ circle that publishes and promotes the creative work of Tibetans. He is the author of four books, including Yak Horns: Notes on Contemporary Tibetan Writing, Music, Film & Politics and Songs of the Arrow. He lives in Dharamshala, a small town in northern India.

One Response

  1. Just amazing and beautiful piece of writing, consoling the people of Dhingri who are suffering from the recent earthquake in the area. Even though the writer could not be there physically, he is there with the people of Dhingri in spirit.

    I am sure a lot of our fellow Tibetans feel the same way who are abroad, and not able to help our brothers and sisters in Dhingri. But I must applaud and express my gratitude to our brothers and sisters from Lhasa and other areas who travelled to Dhingri and provide all the necessary aid to the suffering people of Dhingri despite restrictions imposed by the Chinese government. Normally, the governments are there to help their people in times of disaster, but China’s Communist Party is something different. We all pray for the well-being and restoration of normalcy for the people in Dhingri. May their suffering end! May their happiness and prosperity soon restored!

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