Mcleodganj

Hills, beautiful hills

Barren peaks in the distance

That give way to snow, which like a scoop of vanilla ice garnishes the hills

Peace in the air

Sombre monks in flaming attires

Flowing red robes everywhere bustling about in their dogged pursuit of peace

Blue skies

Fluttering prayer flags

That refuse to be weighed down by the hopes they ferry to the blue skies

Lotus petals

Dragons and heavy metal

Buddha sits on a lotus alongside Bon Jovi and Che looking out of earrings and badges

Tea, hot Tibetan butter tea

Steaming momos

That pave the path to salvation wrapped in gastric juices and needs of existence

Piety, prayer, devotion

Church, temple, monastery

Beckoning to the faithful, to lovers of art and curious explorers of the Self

Mountain trails

Gurgling streams

Long walks through both to lose yourself before a renewed discovery

Silent revolution

Austere penance

Living in a home that never will be home, keeping alive their past to empower their future

Liberty, sovereignty, self-determination

Web of words that keeps struggles alive

And give wings to dreams in distant places and times

Gathering hope,

Beaming them across mountains

To mobilise strength to save Tibet, Free Tibet and spread Peace