"That's the library", he says with his voice gleaming with pride. "I am getting this built from scratch, you know. More than 5000 monks can be accommodated in it." He swipes to show me another image of the under-construction library from his tablet's gallery.
As we chat at the dinner table, we are joined by two more flatmates. It is 7:30 PM but it is the dinner time for the monks. Two more flatmates join us as they get ready to prepare the supper. Lungrik, keeps the saucepan on the simmer. "Thukpa today", he gleams and the Jamba, chops the tomatoes.
"You must taste it, you should like it", they insist to me.
Lungrik and Jamba come from Tibet. They love India and have been here, teaching and now preaching in monasteries near Goa. They like India it seems. "It is very free here, not like China", Lungrik says as he puts the onion and tomato in the pan. "India, so many different religions, live together with peace", he says.
Well, hostel life at IIFT gave me all kinds of quirky characters to mingle with. Some nerdy, some creative geniuses, some hasty workers and some tardy blokes. This though is a new territory. An MBA money-minded folk staying alongside people who have left all assets-friends, family, homes behind to spread their learnings. They have been away from the families living a minimalist life serving in the monasteries and living in an austere world of knowledge, meditation and celibacy. It looks like coming together of two worlds under one roof.
"How are you feeling here in Bangalore?", I ask Chamtoz. "Weather good, our school is close, so easy to go", he says in English. All the monks have decided to converse in their new language.
"I love Coorg, so cold in winters", he says. He last went to his village five years ago. He has 5 siblings, all married now.
"How were your classes today", I try to strike a conversation with Jamba, the most introvert of the three. He nods with a smile as he stirs the noodles simultaneously.
"My reading good but speaking bad", chortles Lungrik. I need practice, more practice.
I wonder what made them leave mainstream society? How have they been able to live without a family, without any materialistic ambitions? Spirituality must be extremely powerful. Observing these three souls is like witnessing self control in motion.
"Don't your families miss you?", " I ask all of them. "In our culture, it is a matter of pride to have a son become a monk. Families want us that way only. They proud of us". I don't remember who said this but felt like all three uttered in unison.
The scent of the words and of the Thukpa reverberated the room. "It's done, let's eat", suggests Jamba as we have the supper together on a balmy December evening.
Lobsang Chamtoz, one of my flatmates has been studying and preaching at a monastery near Coorg. He came from his village in Nubra valley, Ladakh in 1991 and since then has been settled here. "I want to teach more students, so need to learn English", he explains me the reason for coming to Bangalore.
As we chat at the dinner table, we are joined by two more flatmates. It is 7:30 PM but it is the dinner time for the monks. Two more flatmates join us as they get ready to prepare the supper. Lungrik, keeps the saucepan on the simmer. "Thukpa today", he gleams and the Jamba, chops the tomatoes.
"You must taste it, you should like it", they insist to me.
Lungrik and Jamba come from Tibet. They love India and have been here, teaching and now preaching in monasteries near Goa. They like India it seems. "It is very free here, not like China", Lungrik says as he puts the onion and tomato in the pan. "India, so many different religions, live together with peace", he says.
Well, hostel life at IIFT gave me all kinds of quirky characters to mingle with. Some nerdy, some creative geniuses, some hasty workers and some tardy blokes. This though is a new territory. An MBA money-minded folk staying alongside people who have left all assets-friends, family, homes behind to spread their learnings. They have been away from the families living a minimalist life serving in the monasteries and living in an austere world of knowledge, meditation and celibacy. It looks like coming together of two worlds under one roof.
"How are you feeling here in Bangalore?", I ask Chamtoz. "Weather good, our school is close, so easy to go", he says in English. All the monks have decided to converse in their new language.
"I love Coorg, so cold in winters", he says. He last went to his village five years ago. He has 5 siblings, all married now.
"How were your classes today", I try to strike a conversation with Jamba, the most introvert of the three. He nods with a smile as he stirs the noodles simultaneously.
"My reading good but speaking bad", chortles Lungrik. I need practice, more practice.
I wonder what made them leave mainstream society? How have they been able to live without a family, without any materialistic ambitions? Spirituality must be extremely powerful. Observing these three souls is like witnessing self control in motion.
"Don't your families miss you?", " I ask all of them. "In our culture, it is a matter of pride to have a son become a monk. Families want us that way only. They proud of us". I don't remember who said this but felt like all three uttered in unison.
The scent of the words and of the Thukpa reverberated the room. "It's done, let's eat", suggests Jamba as we have the supper together on a balmy December evening.
