Tibet Writes is a not-for-profit site dedicated to Tibet and the Tibetan people.

Latest articles

  • I am a terrorist

    2 May 2014, by TW

    It is considered bad luck among Tibetans to discuss what will happen when the Dalai Lama dies. Tenzin Tsundue, however, is not afraid of taboos. “If His Holiness passes away before the situation is resolved, I think the Tibetan people will take matters into their own hands. Once the centre disappears, the periphery will be thrown into tumult. Violence cannot be ruled out. I have horns two fangs and a dragonfly tail I am the humiliation you gulped down with flattened nose I am a (...)

  • ’I will carry the sky’

    3 October 2013, by Bhuchung D Sonam

    A Home in Tibet Published by Penguin India. Price: Rs.499 ’I come from there and I have memories / I have a mother /And a house with many windows…’ wrote one of my favourite poets Mahoud Darwish. Tsering Choden Dhompa came from a place, where the land was so white and cold in the winter you would think a humongous freezer was perpetually at work; in the summer the same land would transform into a colossal garden as if the goddess of art was letting the entire arsenal of her palette loose on (...)

  • Musings on Indian Independence Day

    22 August 2013, by Tenzin Nyinjey

    It was a bleak, rainy day. The air was filled with mist. Everywhere one looked, one found dampness and mud. Not a ray of sunshine. Nor even the yearning for it in people’s mind. Add to this the house that I live in, a house not my own, but rented, on a land that doesn’t belong to me – despite the humanity of my landlords. No wonder the pounding rain and the mist outside provoked a profound sense of dread in me. Rather than kicking off the searing fear, treating him in contempt, as we often (...)

  • Tibet’s bread-and-freedom poets

    12 August 2013, by TW

    Pa Topgyal is 79 years old. While speaking to his elder daughter on the phone he wails like a three-year-old boy. She is in the US, an illegal Tibetan without papers. He is a refugee living in India for over 50 years. She is 38. They haven’t met for 17 years. If numbers alone represent sorrows, it’s a hundred and eighty four years of pain and dislocation, longing and desire, grief and resignation, promises and disappointment, hope and surrender. Despite five decades of selling sweaters in the (...)

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