The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (19 page)

The following timetable shows how the days were arranged.

It was hard work for everyone; however, all went well. My tutor and monks said they were proud of the achievement of one so young. They told me that I must now start seriously on my work as a guru, but I myself felt that I was not yet sufficiently qualified: I had many misgivings and needed my own guru to elucidate a number of points; moreover, I knew that one must not have too great a conceit of oneself—here was another danger. I explained my position clearly to Akong Tulku and the senior lamas, saying that even if I had been able to give the wangkur and to perform the traditional rites, I was not sufficiently mature to give lectures or personal teaching on meditation; however, I promised that I would do all I could to qualify myself in the future.

After that, we traveled farther afield visiting other monasteries. The abbot of Yak asked me if at a later date I would give the wangkur of the
Treasury of the Mine of Precious Teaching
again. Turning homeward, we again stopped at Drölma Lhakhang; the secretary and senior lamas there wanted me to undertake to be Akong Tulku’s guru, but I told them that he must go and study at Sechen, for I was certain that my knowledge was still too incomplete and that he should be taught by Jamgön Kongtrül Rinpoche; after all, Akong and I were boys of the same age.

Winter was now coming on and on the day of our departure snow fell in enormous flakes; as there were no trees the whole place was under a sheet of white and it was bitterly cold. There is even a proverb about that part of Tibet—“the coldness of this land will stop tea from pouring”—but in spite of the weather all the monks accompanied us part of the way as a token of goodbye. They were all so friendly that this was one of the most memorable farewells I had ever experienced. Akong Tulku and I had become great friends and he was sad at our parting, but I told him we would meet again very soon at my guru’s monastery. I said, “It is inconsistent that I who have not finished my own studies and am not fully qualified to teach should be asked to be your guru; you must go to Jamgön Kongtrül.” Akong Rinpoche and his monks escorted us for three miles as far as the lake and then we separated.

The people around had heard about me while I was at Drölma Lhakhang and I received many invitations to visit their local monasteries on my return journey; unfortunately I was not able to accept them. The only place I really wanted to make sure of visiting was the monastery of Karma, the third in importance in the Karma Kagyü school, and we made our way toward it.

The whole area around the monastery, known as Karma Geru, is famous for its art. Since early in the fifteenth century its artists have worked all over Tibet and are known as the Gardri school. All the villagers earn their living by painting. I visited the village of Pating, whose headman was considered to be the leading artist of the area; at his home I found him painting scrolls (thangkas) and at the same time he was teaching other young artists, while his studio was crowded with pictures of all sizes, in different stages of completion. His pupils were also taught to work in clay, how to make their own brushes, to prepare their own canvasses, and mix their colors. His own work was so lovely that it used to be said, “the thangkas that Gönpo Dorje paints do not need to be blessed.”

All the houses belonging to the villagers contained wonderful paintings and carvings, and their shrine rooms were in the same style as those of the monasteries. The headman’s house was particularly beautiful as it held the works of many generations of his family, the early ones being the most perfect. The walls were painted with historical or mythical designs, the scrolls were all of religious subjects, and the pillars and ceilings showed decorative designs of birds and flowers which are characteristic of the Gardri school.

On the opposite side of the river the people specialized in goldsmith and silversmith work, particularly in smelting and casting these precious metals. All this was most interesting and, since the villagers were so skilled, I expected the monastery to be even more fascinating artistically.

The track leading to it runs beside the river which cascades through a narrow gorge bordered by high blueish rocks. At its farther end an almost perpendicular rock towers above the others. High up is an outcrop of yellow stone in the form of a seated buddha, beside which many sacred texts have been carved even though the rock is so steep that it would seem impossible for any man to have climbed up to carve them. A waterfall splashes down beside the image causing a perpetual rainbow to arch over it. Suddenly beyond this, the gorge opens out into a wide valley where the monastery of Karma was founded by Rangjung Dorje (1284–1339). It looks out over wide fields with the river flowing through them. It was of the greatest interest to me to see it, both from the historical point of view and by reason of its superb architecture, decorations, and furnishings. Special masons had been brought from Central Tibet to construct its outside walls which were built out of very small stones. Its abbot had recently died and his incarnation had not yet been found, so when we arrived we were welcomed and received by the regent abbot, who personally conducted us over the monastery.

Through the entrance porch, with its staircases at each side leading up to the gallery, we entered the great hall which is said to be the second largest in Tibet. This was used for all important services, for chanting the choral office, and when addressing large gatherings. The high roof over the central part of the hall rested on one hundred pillars made from solid tree trunks some sixteen to twenty feet in circumference. These were lacquered vermillion with designs in yellow, blue, and gold, and their spreading capitals were of the type peculiar to Tibetan architecture. The hall was dimly lit from windows above the gallery which rested on four hundred shorter pillars, some of them made of sandalwood brought from India. There were various rooms opening out of the gallery, some of which formed the abbot’s apartment. Twelve shrine sanctuaries off the central hall were used for devotions and in one of them there were life-sized sculptures of all the incarnations of Gyalwa Karmapa, the supreme lama of the order; up to the eighth incarnation of the line the workmanship was perfect, but with the remaining seven it showed some deterioration. This point struck me and I felt that it might be possible for me to do something to revive Tibetan art, but Communist oppression was soon to put an end to any such dreams. One shrine room held the great library, the third largest in Tibet, containing a vast collection of manuscripts and also Sanskrit texts believed to date from the eighth century. The whole suggested that at one time the Karma Kagyü school had been exceedingly flourishing and that the best of Buddhist art had been preserved here.

Inside the great hall the walls were painted with wonderful scenes from the life of the Lord Buddha, and with scenes from the history of the Karma Kagyü school. Between the entrances to the shrine sanctuaries there were shelves along the walls on which gold and silver lamps burned perpetually. The lion throne placed in the center of the hall was made of sandalwood brought from a holy place in India; its back was of dark sandalwood painted with a gold design and with a piece of gold brocade in the center hung round with a white scarf. The throne was carved with lion designs and the brocade on its cushions had been given by the emperor Tohan Timur when the third Karmapa was invited to China. At the end of the hall, behind the throne, three entrances led into a tremendously lofty chamber, divided in three to hold the images of the past, present, and future buddhas; these were so gigantic that the measurement across the eyes was five feet. The central image was of Shakyamuni, the present Buddha, made of molded brass heavily guilded; all the limbs and various parts of the body had been cast separately and put together, but the head was cast in one piece with a large diamond in the center of the forehead which, according to local stories, came from the mouth of the celestial hawk garuda. The image had been designed by the eighth Gyalwa Karmapa (1507–1554) and he himself had carved the sandalwood throne. The images of the past and future buddhas were made of clay mixed with consecrated herbs; they were decorated with precious stones and each had a ruby on its forehead. A table for offerings was placed before each image.

Seen from the outside, the monastery was a grand sight with the fast-flowing river below and the screen of mountains behind. It was built in three tiers; the uppermost roof over the high chamber of the three buddha images was gilt surmounted by a golden
serto
, a crest ornament denoting dignity, largely used in Tibet over monasteries, houses, and even placed on horses’ heads for riders of rank; golden chains hung with small bells ran from the serto to the top of the roof which also bore larger bells at each corner. The roof of the large hall spread out below, again with bells at its corners, and below it a third roof covered the gallery rooms and the cloisters outside the shrines; this also carried bells and carved wooden lions jutted out from the stone walls below them. The two lower roofs were not gilded, but above the gallery rooms there was a row of carved gilt medallions. The cloisters contained eight buddha images and four stupas ten feet high, made of precious metals and placed under gilt canopies. All these had been brought from India in former times; three of the stupas came from Nalanda, one of the most famous Buddhist monastic universities in that country.

The serto (emblem of dignity) on a monastery roof
.

The monastery of Karma was a wonderful example of the artistry of the incarnation of Gyalwa Karmapa and especially of the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth of the line; these lamas were experts in carving, sculpture, painting, and embroidery and in smelting and casting precious metals. Karma was a unique example of the beauty of the traditional art of Tibet. It was also at the time when these lamas lived that there was a renaissance of spiritual teaching all over Tibet to which they made a valuable contribution; their writings contained important teaching to the effect that the metaphysical and the contemplative ways must be brought together.

On the hill opposite the monastery a little retreat had been built, approached by a winding path, with beside it a cluster of tamarisk bushes disposed in the form of the letter
ka
for “Karma.”

When I left Karma Monastery many invitations came which I could not accept because of the special devotions always held at Surmang during the last twelve days of each year. This was considered to be an occasion of great importance, but I had not been able to take part in it since I was eleven, having always been away at that particular time. It was the celebration of the buddhamandala known as the wheel of supreme bliss (
khorlo demchok;
Skt.
chakrasamvara
), and it was combined with a rite of the guardian divinity Gönpo Chakshipa (Four-Armed Protector). These rites included meditation and chanting accompanied by drums and cymbals; wind instruments joined in at the start and end of the chants. The monks had to arrange that there should be no lapse of attendance during the day or night and none of them could expect more than four hours’ sleep. This religious ceremony at the end of each year was intended to dispel evil and to build up new spiritual strength for the year about to begin. I had only been able to attend it three times before, and the monks rejoiced that I could be with them once more. I was so young the first time that I was only allowed to be a spectator, and then only during the day; on the other two occasions, when I had taken part in the whole rite, I had found it very long and tiring, but this year, although I was not yet fifteen, I could both understand and enjoy it.

When this rite was over, I went to spend the New Year with the hermits at Dorje Khyung Dzong away from the bustle of the monastery, after which I was eagerly looking forward to being able to return to my studies at Sechen.