Reflections from a recent journey to Norbulingka in Dharamshala - a sanctuary where Tibetan art, language, and tradition are not just preserved, but lived. Founded in 1988, the institute offers a quiet refuge where culture is lovingly practiced in the rhythm of daily life.

Modeled after the historic Norbulingka palace in Lhasa, the institute sits within a serene "jewel park" of Japanese-style gardens, prayer wheels, ponds, and bridges - mirroring the layout and proportions of Avalokiteshvara, the Buddhist deity of compassion.

The Deden Tsuglakhang or “Seat of Happiness” Temple - houses a 14‑foot gilded copper Buddha created in‑house, alongside over 1,000 frescoes depicting the lives of the Dalai Lama

The sun casts warm shadows on the temple building. The balconettes are lined with the Eternal knots symbolizing Buddhist concepts of Samsara & Karma

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On my way to evening chants, I paused by an old man quietly braiding, each knot carrying its own symbol. On asking what the different knots were, he picked up one and said, “This is the Infinite Knot - one of Tibetan Buddhism’s eight auspicious symbols. It has no beginning or end. It symbolizes both stillness and movement. It reminds us that spiritual and material life are inseparable. Everything is connected.”

In image- Partially veiled by a Maroon cloth, a hand-painted Thangka reveals a Buddha amidst clouds. The brushwork is delicate, reverent - a meeting of skill and spirit. In Norbulingka, even the unfinished holds grace. A standard Thangka, which is about 18 x 12 in., takes an artist about six weeks to complete.

A Thangka painter’s goal is to create images that inspire the viewer. Unlike Western works of art, which are the product of the artist’s personal ingenuity, Tibetan religious art is regarded as a way to communicate transcendental qualities to practitioners, the painter being the vessel.

Norbulingka’s lush gardens teem with bird life. Originally terraced fields that grew wheat in winter and rice in summer, they were bordered with an abundance of mature trees. Golden prayer wheels sit quietly beneath coloured flags, their mantras spinning stories into the crisp mountain air.

The warm glow of the sun setting on my last evening at Norbulingka.