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Many a tourist travelling from Mysore to Coorg has been astonished by the sight of beautiful Buddhist temples perched on hilltops, the melodic rumbling of monastery gongs and the sea of red robes that make up Bylakuppe, the southernmost Tibetan settlement in India. The allocated Tibetan area, a mere 90 kms from Mysore, can best be described as a time travel portal, where one leaves Karnataka and winds up in Tibet, well almost.
As a young boy I first went to Bylakuppe over a decade ago as part of a school trip meant to display solidarity between us kids and Tibetan refugees in exile. I remembered the settlement as sort of a sleepy town devoid of any Karnatakans or any tourists for that matter. Then the atmosphere of the settlement was as if it was covered in a blanket of mild content. The people were happy to have a home, but unwilling and unable to whitewash the tragedy China inflicted and continues to inflict on their people. That’s why I had to stop by in 2017, to see what happened to the quiet settlement I so fondly remembered.
I was shocked. The sleepy town I once visited was full of tourist buses and shops. To be clear it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, just radically different. Given that my travel companions and I were a bit hungry after the ride from Mysore we decided to line our stomachs with a bit of good ol’ thukpa and momos on a bustling shopping street. On my first trip to Bylakuppe I recalled eating a heavenly plate of beef (NOT BUFF, REAL TENDER BEEF) momos for 18 rupees. Although prices have inevitably gone up, a meal for three guys with large appetites totalled to solely 300 rupees. That’s with a couple of plates of steamed and fried beef momos that continue to make me smile like nothing else.
Fortified by some great grub I hopped on my bike and decided to toodle around the temples I once visited. Their beauty has remained the same however there were huge hordes of tourists shuffling around everywhere, crowded parking lots and determined chili mango vendors, none of which I were a part of my earlier memory. However, the monuments erected by the settlers retained their magnitude even with this unsuspectingly, loud background.
Nevertheless, the temples and monasteries had huge signs posted urging people to be quiet and respectful, however the sounds of monks chanting were overwhelmed by what sounded like an unruly fish market. Let me reiterate this did not take away from the beauty of the settlement, but it did slightly taint my perception of the refugee area.
Feeling high and mighty like I was the only god damn person in the world that cared about the sanctity of India’s southern most Tibetan settlement I decided to chat up some monks and see if they wanted to complain about the state of affairs. Monks, however, do not bitch, and surprising have a very positive attitude (please don’t drown in the mediocre sarcasm).
The monk I spoke to was named Dawa and the fifteen minute conversation we held was enlightening, no jokes. In his opinion he wasn’t upset by the noise or hordes of people gawking at the monks and beckoning them under the stem of their selfie sticks. In fact, he was happy people took an interest in Tibetan culture and helped support his community in exile. The monk changed my self-righteous emotions into a satisfied smile as quickly as snapping one’s fingers.
I hopped back on my bike happy this little haven in the south was doing well. The only bad karma I might have incurred was skipping the parking fee by taking a small farm road instead of braving the crowded parking lot exit. I’ll get you next time Bylakuppe. Stay beautiful.
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