November 20

Through My Eyes

Saturday November 20

(We continue to listen to the Dalai Lama as he tells of his arrival in India.)

" We must have been a pitiful sight to the handful of Indian guards that met us at the border- eighty travellers, physically exhausted and mentally wretched from our ordeal. I was delighted, however, that an official I knew from my visit two years earlier was here to rendezvous with us. He explained that his orders were to escort me to Bomdila, a large town that lay a further week's travel away, for rest.

We finally reached it some three weeks later after leaving Lhasa, though it seemed like an aeon. On arrival, I was greeted by my old liaison officer and interpreter, Mr. Menon and Sonam Topgyal Kazi respectively, one of whom handed me a telegram from the Prime Minister:

My colleagues and I welcome you and send greetings on your safe arrival in India. We shall be happy to afford the necessary facilities to you, your family and entourage to reside in India. The people of India, who hold you in great veneration, will no doubt accord their traditional respect to your personage. Kind regards to you. Nehru.

I remained in Bomdila, where I was looked after very well by the family of the local District commissioner, for about ten days. At the end of which, I was fully recovered from my dysentery. Then, early on 18 April 1959, I was taken by jeep to a road camp called Foothills, where a small guard of honour was formed up on either side of a makeshift carpet of canvas leading to the camp overseer's house, my base for the morning. Inside, I was given a breakfast that included fresh bananas- of which I ate too many, with unfortunate consequences to my digestive system- and was also briefed by Mr. Menon about the arrangements that had been mad by the Indian government on my behalf.

That afternoon, I was to be taken to Tezpur, and from there began the journey to Mussoorie, a hill station not far from Delhi, where a house had been procured for me. A special train to take us the 1,500-mile distance had already been laid on.

As I left the building at Foothills, and climbed into a big red car for the thirty-mile drive to the station, I noticed large numbers of cameramen. It was explained to me that these were representatives of the international press. They had come to report on the 'story of the century'. I should expect to see many more of them on arrival in the city.

When we reached Tezpur I was taken directly to the Curcuit House, where many hundreds of messages, telegrams and letters awaited me, all sending greetings and good wishes from people the world over. For a few moments I was lost in gratitude, but the exigencies of the present were almost overwhelming. the most pressing requirement, I felt, was to prepare a short statement to give to the many people waiting for some word from me to send back to their newspapers. In it, I gave an outline in straightforward and carefully moderate terms of the history I have related in these chapters. That done, and after a light lunch, we left for our train, which was due to depart at one o'clock.

On the way, hundreds if not thousands of people pressed around my convoy, waving and shouting greetings. This continued to happen throughout the whole journey to Mussoorie. At some points, the tracks themselves had to be cleared of well-wishers. News travels swiftly among rural communities and it seemed that no one was unaware of my presence on board that train. Thousands upon thousands of people turned out and shouted their welcome: 'Dalai Lama Ki Jai! Dalai Lama Zinda-bad!' (' Hail to the Dalai Lama! Long live the Dalai Lama!') It was very moving. At three major cities en route, Siliguri, Benares, and Lucknow, I was obliged to leave my carriage and address huge, impromptu meetings of flower-throwing well-wishers. The whole journey was like an extraordinary dream. Thinking back on it, I am immensely grateful to the people of India for their effusive demonstration of goodwill at that time.

The train finally pulled in at Dehru Dun station after several days of travel. Again, there was a large welcome for me. From there we drove up to Mussoorie, which was about an hour's drive. I was there we drove up to Mussoorie, which was about an hour's drive. I was then taken to Birla House, a residence of one of India's leading industrial families, which had been requisitioned for my use by the Indian government. There I was to stay until long-term plans could be made. As things turned out, it became my home for a year."

( A wonderful reception! I promise to add more tomorrow...)

*( please click here to read of the day with me )

* This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth

Dalai Lama of Tibet.

Through my eyes

( Please see my spinning for you!)

( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! Kehrahng kusu debo yinpeh? I began the day in our studio spinning for you. It was raining so after that I began tidying up in our studio. It's somewhat of a big job after the busy summer and fall! It's a good thing we worked on the tree trunk painting yesterday as tomorrow's weather is forecast to be the same. You'll notice that we've put paint up somewhat higher this time to protect areas that seem to need it judging by the effects of last winter. Anyway, after that I worked on saving the pictures from recently as we've a lot more of them! Then I worked a bit on our a land of Tibet. I'm going to put up the pages on our infosite;I'll put this up for now so we can rest.

And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow

my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright

long dark mane in sunlight

so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)


	Through My Eyes Saturday November 20 (We continue to listen to the Dalai Lama as he tells of his arrival in India.) " We must have been a pitiful sight to the handful of Indian guards that met us at the border- eighty travellers, physically exhausted and mentally wretched from our ordeal. I was delighted, however, that an official I knew from my visit two years earlier was here to rendezvous with us. He explained that his orders were to escort me to Bomdila, a large town that lay a further week's travel away, for rest. We finally reached it some three weeks later after leaving Lhasa, though it seemed like an aeon. On arrival, I was greeted by my old liaison officer and interpreter, Mr. Menon and Sonam Topgyal Kazi respectively, one of whom handed me a telegram from the Prime Minister: My colleagues and I welcome you and send greetings on your safe arrival in India. We shall be happy to afford the necessary facilities to you, your family and entourage to reside in India. The people of India, who hold you in great veneration, will no doubt accord their traditional respect to your personage. Kind regards to you. Nehru. I remained in Bomdila, where I was looked after very well by the family of the local District commissioner, for about ten days. At the end of which, I was fully recovered from my dysentery. Then, early on 18 April 1959, I was taken by jeep to a road camp called Foothills, where a small guard of honour was formed up on either side of a makeshift carpet of canvas leading to the camp overseer's house, my base for the morning. Inside, I was given a breakfast that included fresh bananas- of which I ate too many, with unfortunate consequences to my digestive system- and was also briefed by Mr. Menon about the arrangements that had been mad by the Indian government on my behalf. That afternoon, I was to be taken to Tezpur, and from there began the journey to Mussoorie, a hill station not far from Delhi, where a house had been procured for me. A special train to take us the 1,500-mile distance had already been laid on. As I left the building at Foothills, and climbed into a big red car for the thirty-mile drive to the station, I noticed large numbers of cameramen. It was explained to me that these were representatives of the international press. They had come to report on the 'story of the century'. I should expect to see many more of them on arrival in the city. When we reached Tezpur I was taken directly to the Curcuit House, where many hundreds of messages, telegrams and letters awaited me, all sending greetings and good wishes from people the world over. For a few moments I was lost in gratitude, but the exigencies of the present were almost overwhelming. the most pressing requirement, I felt, was to prepare a short statement to give to the many people waiting for some word from me to send back to their newspapers. In it, I gave an outline in straightforward and carefully moderate terms of the history I have related in these chapters. That done, and after a light lunch, we left for our train, which was due to depart at one o'clock. On the way, hundreds if not thousands of people pressed around my convoy, waving and shouting greetings. This continued to happen throughout the whole journey to Mussoorie. At some points, the tracks themselves had to be cleared of well-wishers. News travels swiftly among rural communities and it seemed that no one was unaware of my presence on board that train. Thousands upon thousands of people turned out and shouted their welcome: 'Dalai Lama Ki Jai! Dalai Lama Zinda-bad!' (' Hail to the Dalai Lama! Long live the Dalai Lama!') It was very moving. At three major cities en route, Siliguri, Benares, and Lucknow, I was obliged to leave my carriage and address huge, impromptu meetings of flower-throwing well-wishers. The whole journey was like an extraordinary dream. Thinking back on it, I am immensely grateful to the people of India for their effusive demonstration of goodwill at that time. The train finally pulled in at Dehru Dun station after several days of travel. Again, there was a large welcome for me. From there we drove up to Mussoorie, which was about an hour's drive. I was there we drove up to Mussoorie, which was about an hour's drive. I was then taken to Birla House, a residence of one of India's leading industrial families, which had been requisitioned for my use by the Indian government. There I was to stay until long-term plans could be made. As things turned out, it became my home for a year." ( A wonderful reception! I promise to add more tomorrow...) ( please click here to read of the day with me ) This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth Dalai Lama of Tibet. Through my eyes ( Please see my spinning for you!) ( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! Kehrahng kusu debo yinpeh? I began the day in our studio spinning for you. It was raining so after that I began tidying up in our studio. It's somewhat of a big job after the busy summer and fall! It's a good thing we worked on the tree trunk painting yesterday as tomorrow's weather is forecast to be the same. You'll notice that we've put paint up somewhat higher this time to protect areas that seem to need it judging by the effects of last winter. Anyway, after that I worked on saving the pictures from recently as we've a lot more of them! Then I worked a bit on our a land of Tibet. I'm going to put up the pages on our infosite;I'll put this up for now so we can rest. And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright long dark mane in sunlight so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)