Part II: Gangtok & Rumtek

(Part I, 'Shillong', can be seen here.)
Cameras weren't allowed inside the main complex of the Rumtek Monastery (below). Neither were tourists, but we were cold and wet, and a boy-monk who was rushing towards the hall (because the prayers had begun) parted the green curtain on his way inside, smiled and beckoned us in.

The hall was a bloody red; the walls were a bloody red. Rows upon rows of monks, in their maroon robes and golden shirts, were chanting in low, deep voices. Slowly, our eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, whose chief source was an old, majestic chandelier, hung low in the middle of the hall. Beautiful, but quite useless: the monks had to read by candlelight.

We noticed that the walls were covered with rich, intricate murals: fat kings, monsters and demons, queens and tigers and gods, forests and palaces, all depicting the stories of Buddha's lives and reincarnations.

All of a sudden, the monks put their manuscripts down, and began to play. Not a quite, soft music, but a roaring, rousing music that would drive the chill out of anyone's bones. Drums, conch-shells, brass-bells and heavens-knows-what. Faster and faster they played, faster and louder, till it was impossible for us to sit anymore; and then, they just stopped.

The whole thing was over in less than a minute. Putting the instruments aside, the monks went back to their manuscripts.

WTF.

p.s: The last photo is not of the monastery, but of a wayside store.
















(Part III and IV tomorrow)