"I was a babu. Working as a Joint Secretary with the Government of Sikkim. Then I decided to change my life. And took a voluntary retirement,” said the white-haired man with a solemn demeanour, holding a large calligraphy brush and looking intently at a piece of handmade paper which will soon experience his bold strokes.
I was at the Tibetan calligraphy exhibition of Jamyang Dorjee, organized by Tibet House, Lodi Road, as part of a three-day “Legacy of Tibet" festival (March 22-24), which also had demonstration of thangka painting, book stalls and sale of Tibetan traditional medicine, food and handicrafts as its key components.
Dorjee, one of the pioneers of Tibetan calligraphy, was displaying his art which deftly combines Buddhist elements, symbols and images with Tibetan script. The added attraction was an opportunity to get your name written on a piece of paper by the master calligrapher in his inimitable style. I did not miss the chance.
Dorjee said that for him, calligraphy is not only an art. “It is a form of meditation. It is spiritual. Japanese, Chinese and Persian calligraphy are well-known and widely acclaimed. I just wanted to make more people aware of the beauty of our Tibetan script. That's why I left the world of bureaucracy and devoted myself fully to this art form,” he said.
In 2010, Dorjee created a 165 metre-long Tibetan calligraphy scroll, with prayers and drawings consisting of 65,000 Tibetan characters. And more recently, he was among 11 calligraphers who used their art form to highlight the message of Mahatma Gandhi at an exhibition held at Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts, New Delhi, titled Gandhi Virasat: Kagazkala.
After he wrote the name in black, Dorjee
took out two tiny red seals. “One denotes the artist's own name and the other projects an image of a flower. They are used to create a sense of balance in the artwork,” he said as he put the stamps on the paper.
Bureaucracy is also about seals and stamps, I thought. As for a sense of balance, that is another story.
But if I wouldn't have met Jamyang Dorjee, I wouldn't have known this key aspect of Tibetan art. Whenever someone talks of Tibetan art, I remember the colourful thangkas (Tibetan scroll paintings made on cotton or silk) I saw in Norbulingka institute in Dharamshala, which is dedicated to preserving this ancient art form. I am especially reminded of one very young and very talented artist who told me that he had escaped from Tibet, risking his life, just because he wanted to see His Holiness the Dalai Lama in person. I forgot the guy's name. I just remember his beautiful paintings.
A young thangka painter called Pema was at Tibet House too, using vegetable dye to create an image of Mahakala. “A painting like this takes nearly a month to complete,” said Pema, whose wooden sculptures were also showcased at the venue, along with the instruments used by him to create them.
Speaking of sculptures, the Tibet House museum had a number of statues of revered Buddhist gurus on display. My eyes fell upon one of them.
I remember reading about Atiśa Dīpaṃkara Śrījñāna (982-1054 CE)in history books. He was a Bengali Buddhist religious scholar who went to Tibet and worked for spread of Mahayana Buddhism there.
So, when I saw this statue, I felt happy, as if I have met someone I know. After all, he was one of our own, born in Bikrampur in (now) Bangladesh. The plaque accompanying the idol mentioned him as a prince who turned into a spiritual guru. I was thinking that here is another story of a person who gave up a life many would aspire and paid heed to a higher call.
It is natural, though. After all, the Buddha also did the same, isn't it? In that, he left a path for his true followers to walk on.
I was at the Tibetan calligraphy exhibition of Jamyang Dorjee, organized by Tibet House, Lodi Road, as part of a three-day “Legacy of Tibet" festival (March 22-24), which also had demonstration of thangka painting, book stalls and sale of Tibetan traditional medicine, food and handicrafts as its key components.
Dorjee, one of the pioneers of Tibetan calligraphy, was displaying his art which deftly combines Buddhist elements, symbols and images with Tibetan script. The added attraction was an opportunity to get your name written on a piece of paper by the master calligrapher in his inimitable style. I did not miss the chance.
Dorjee said that for him, calligraphy is not only an art. “It is a form of meditation. It is spiritual. Japanese, Chinese and Persian calligraphy are well-known and widely acclaimed. I just wanted to make more people aware of the beauty of our Tibetan script. That's why I left the world of bureaucracy and devoted myself fully to this art form,” he said.
In 2010, Dorjee created a 165 metre-long Tibetan calligraphy scroll, with prayers and drawings consisting of 65,000 Tibetan characters. And more recently, he was among 11 calligraphers who used their art form to highlight the message of Mahatma Gandhi at an exhibition held at Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts, New Delhi, titled Gandhi Virasat: Kagazkala.
After he wrote the name in black, Dorjee
took out two tiny red seals. “One denotes the artist's own name and the other projects an image of a flower. They are used to create a sense of balance in the artwork,” he said as he put the stamps on the paper.
Bureaucracy is also about seals and stamps, I thought. As for a sense of balance, that is another story.
But if I wouldn't have met Jamyang Dorjee, I wouldn't have known this key aspect of Tibetan art. Whenever someone talks of Tibetan art, I remember the colourful thangkas (Tibetan scroll paintings made on cotton or silk) I saw in Norbulingka institute in Dharamshala, which is dedicated to preserving this ancient art form. I am especially reminded of one very young and very talented artist who told me that he had escaped from Tibet, risking his life, just because he wanted to see His Holiness the Dalai Lama in person. I forgot the guy's name. I just remember his beautiful paintings.
A young thangka painter called Pema was at Tibet House too, using vegetable dye to create an image of Mahakala. “A painting like this takes nearly a month to complete,” said Pema, whose wooden sculptures were also showcased at the venue, along with the instruments used by him to create them.
Speaking of sculptures, the Tibet House museum had a number of statues of revered Buddhist gurus on display. My eyes fell upon one of them.
I remember reading about Atiśa Dīpaṃkara Śrījñāna (982-1054 CE)in history books. He was a Bengali Buddhist religious scholar who went to Tibet and worked for spread of Mahayana Buddhism there.
So, when I saw this statue, I felt happy, as if I have met someone I know. After all, he was one of our own, born in Bikrampur in (now) Bangladesh. The plaque accompanying the idol mentioned him as a prince who turned into a spiritual guru. I was thinking that here is another story of a person who gave up a life many would aspire and paid heed to a higher call.
It is natural, though. After all, the Buddha also did the same, isn't it? In that, he left a path for his true followers to walk on.
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