Time Place Teacher Disciple and Topic

The Tibetan tradition holds that at the moment of initiation five things are paramount; time, place, teacher, disciple and the topic or content of the transmission. Who is Urgyen Sangharakshita, what is his connection with the tradition, who were his teachers, and what did he learn from them? What were the augers of time and place, and what does it all mean to us?

This pilgrimage aims to strengthen our awareness and connection with these auspicious five; Time Place Teacher Disciple and Topic, as they constellated in the life of our founder Urgyen Sangharakshita. Pilgrimages are trails of tales. The tales and the trails of this pilgrimage take us into a magical world; the Hidden land in which Sangharakshita unfolded, and the crucible in which our Movement was forged.

What’s it Like

The pilgrimage has two distinct parts. First, we explore Kalimpong, Darjeeling and Ghoom, and then we go on Retreat in beautiful Sikkim.

Kalimpong, Darjeeling and Ghoom are so thickly populated with sites connecting us with Bhante and his eight main teachers that the pilgrimage is quite naturally outward going and stimulating.

Typically we explore the sites, wander around, taking them in. Sometimes, we can simply look – perhaps it’s someone’s house – so we just take darshan, reflect on its significance, gathering impressions, making connections. Sometimes we sit listening to readings; poems, bits of life stories, teachings, memoirs, and at others we meditate and perform puja together.

In Sikkim, we approach the heart of the Beyul or the Hidden Land of Dremo Shong. The Fruit Bowl Beyul is a mandala of fertile river valleys, lakes, mountains, ravines and caves. Blessed by Padmasambhava, it was discovered and opened in the fourteenth century by Rigdzin Godem - one of the Three Supreme Emanations of Guru Rinpoche. It was for a millennium a paradise for practitioners, some of the greatest sages came here and left their mark. Especially at Khechupari and Tashiding; where we have longer stays, the pilgrimage is naturally less active, more meditative and reflective. Our main task will be to allow ourselves to open up to the blessings focused at those places.

In Brief

When: 7th - 30th September
The Teachers of the Present pilgrimage takes place twice a year – Usually in March and September.

Cost: The commercial value of the 24 day pilgrimage is high, but our Pilgrims simply agree to cover the remarkably low costs (Approximate: 250 UK Pounds), and then make a donation towards Dharma and Social projects we sponsor.

Included: All accommodation transport food and site fees.

Excluded: Airfares and Insurance.

Connections: You can be met at either Delhi or Kolkata Airports and accompanied to Kalimpong by Train. Kolkata (Calcutta) is the closest international airport, Delhi a little cheaper. Alternatively, you can get a Domestic flight to Bagdogra and likewise be met and accompanied to Kalimpong – 3 ½ hrs.

Travel: 6-9 pilgrims, plus your guide and two assistants. Easy walking every day. Not much travelling. The short trips on good scenic roads are by Jeep. In Kalimpong, Darjeeling and Gangtok, we use Taxis when it’s too far to walk. A day-long trek in Sikkim is optional.

Accommodation and Food: Mostly twin share. In Sikkim, we twice stay in clean rustic rooms and eat good home cooked food. Other accommodation and food is of a medium or high standard.

Practice: The first half is active, and stimulating. Every day filled with constant reminders of Bhante and his eight main teachers. The second half is rural; meditative, reflective, - a rare chance to deepen one’s connection with the ancient tradition at places blessed by Padmasambhava.

More Information: When you book we will send information sheets covering; Spiritual Preparation, Visas, Insurance, What to Take, What to Expect, Health and Safety, Recommended Reading, Detailed Itinerary, Character Notes, Literary Extracts and the Practice of Pilgrimage.

Booking: Contact us at justratna@yahoo.com

An Ancient Connection Re-Awoken

Some of the most familiar object from Sangharakshita’s childhood were Tibetan ritual implements from the Lama Temple of Peking; favourites included a Thanka of the Buddha and a large Vajra bell - which “rarely could I refrain from ringing”. At nine Bhante studied the life of the Buddha, and at 11 began praying daily to the Buddha and wrote “The Life of Siddhartha Gautama the Buddha” “which when finished I copied out in purple ink on my best notepaper”.

By the age of 17, Bhante had already regained Insight. “At John Watkins, which thereafter I visited frequently, I bought the two books by which I have been most profoundly influenced. These were the Diamond Sutra, which I read first in Gemmell's then in Max Muller's translation, and the Sutra of Wei Lang (Hui Neng). If, when I read Isis Unveiled, I knew that I was not a Christian, when I read the Diamond Sutra I knew that I was a Buddhist. Though this book epitomizes a teaching of such rarefied sublimity that even Arahants, saints who have attained individual nirvana, are said to become confused and afraid when they hear it for the first time, I at once joyfully embraced it with an unqualified acceptance and assent. To me the Diamond Sutra was not new. I had known it and believed it and realized it ages before and the reading of the Sutra as it were awoke me to the existence of something I had forgotten. Once I realized that I was a Buddhist it seemed that I had always been one, that it was the most natural thing in the world to be, and that I had never been anything else. My experience of the Sutra of Wei Lang, which I read in the original Shanghai edition of Wong Mou Lam's translation, though taking place at a slightly lower level, was repeated with much greater frequency. Whenever I read the text I would be thrown into a kind of ecstasy.”

Going Forth

Within two years, in 1944, two days before his nineteenth birthday, the Army dispatched Bhante to the land of the Buddha. After a further two years with the Army in Delhi, Sri Lanka and Singapore, and six months in India testing the waters, on the 18th of August 1947, at Kasauli in the foothills of the Himalayas, Bhante ritually and actually went forth.

“There was only one way out. Religious societies, organizations, and groups, far from being a help to spiritual development were only a hindrance. However lofty the ideals with which they were founded, they had a natural tendency to degenerate, in the hands of selfish human beings, into instruments for the acquisition of money, position, power, and fame. Instead of trying any longer to work with them we would follow the example of the Buddha and sever at one stroke our connection with an incorrigible world. We would renounce the household life and go forth into the life of homelessness as wanderers in search of Truth. For the last few months we had only sat hesitantly on the shore of the vast ocean of the spiritual life. Now, casting aside all fear, we would plunge boldly in.

“Having made this resolution, we lost no time putting it into effect. With the help of a handful of gerua-mati, the reddish-brown earth used since time immemorial by Indian ascetics, we dyed our shirts and sarongs the traditional saffron of the world-renunciant. Suitcases and watches were sold, trousers, jackets, and shoes given away, identification papers destroyed. Apart from the robes that we were to wear we kept only a blanket each and our books and notebooks. As for the last three months hair and beard had been allowed to grow we did not need shaving tackle.”


“As we left Kasauli it was raining, but, as in the course of our descent we emerged from the clouds into the bright sunshine below, we saw arching the road, at intervals of a few dozen yards, not only single but double and triple rainbows. Every time we turned a bend we found more rainbows waiting for us. We passed through them as though through the multicoloured arcades of some celestial palace. Against the background of bright sunshine, jewel-like glittering raindrops, and hills of the freshest and most vivid green, this plethora of delicate seven-hued bows seemed like the epiphany of another world.” The Rainbow Road

Entering the Mandala

A free-lance wanderer, Passport and ID burned, clothes dyed in mud, barefoot, moneyless, without shaving or cutting hair; Bhante walked India with a single companion for three years. On the 12th of May 1949, Bhante became a Sramanera in Kushinagar with U Chandramani as his Preceptor. In March 1950, Jagdish Kashyap took Bhante to Kalimpong and left him there.

Only in London has Bhante lived as long as he has lived in Kalimpong; 14 years – 1950 - 1964. No other place recurs so frequently in Bhante’s lectures seminars or literary work. Here Bhante wrote A Survey of Buddhism, The Eternal Legacy, The Three Jewels, The Rainbow Road, and The Religion of Art together with numerous essays and articles on Buddhism. More poetry burst forth from Bhante here than at any other place. Kalimpong is also unique in that here Bhante met with all of his eight main teachers. In Kalimpong Bhante received his Bodhisattva Ordination, and all of his tantric initiations took place in Kalimpong or Darjeeling. In Kalimpong Bhante was given the name Urgyen and discovered a connection the ancient Nyingma tradition. It was in Kalimpong that Bhante started Teaching, and it was also in Kalimpong, in 1967, that Bhante made the decision to start a new Buddhist Movement; the FWBO.

Said to be a place of great auspiciousness blessed by Guru Rinpoche; journey to the Sikkimese Hiddenland and discover your Tantric roots. Explore holy mountains, sacred lakes, dakini caves, temples, shrines, schools, stupas, and hermitages associated with Urgyen Sangharakshita and his eight main teachers in Ghoom, Darjeeling, Kalimpong and the wilds of Sikkim.

Parayana - The Way Beyond

When we started the Pilgrimage service in 2001, our aim was to create resources for men and women Sramanas – renunciants practicing in simplicity. Still dedicated to Sramanas, Parayana has unexpectedly become an important part of new initiatives taking our Movement into the Buddhist Heartland – the Indian states of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh.

Pilgrimage has become another sparkling facet of our Movement. We enable pilgrims to enter the spirit and path of pilgrimage, to gain experiences of India, of the holy places, and of the Refuges that would scarcely otherwise be imaginable. Parayana provides employment, community, and skills training for our team members, and brings the East and West of our Movement together.

Parayana Main
Visit the Parayana page to learn more about us.

The Money Goes Around

Yours is a true pilgrimage – something you co-create, not buy. The traditional method – which we follow – is for the participants to share the costs, and each individual to follow the dictates of their heart when they give.

Costs
Although the commercial value of the pilgrimage is high, the actual costs – aside from airfares, insurance and pre-travel purchases - are remarkably low. India is economical and our Team is likewise. The cost of all meals snacks and drinks, accommodation, transport, Team wages and offerings is likely to be less than 250 Pounds or Indian Rupees 22,000.

Dana
Our Team simply takes minimal wages that support life and provide something for their family. It is not a business; we do not seek to make an ordinary profit. We hope to enable you to experience the joy of giving – by keeping costs down; and by enticing you to support projects that we sponsor.

Dana

This year we have several major funding projects; the first is to find two thousand pounds for the young Dhardo Tulku; for rituals that are an important part of his Monastic education.

Then we want to find fifteen hundred pounds to help preserve the cottage on a high ridge above Kalimpong, where Bhante received his first Tantric initiation – Green Tara, from Chatral Rinpoche. That meeting and Rinpoche’s direct, spontaneous, simple and informal method of introducing and transmitting the Sadhana is the model of our Private Ordination especially the Initiation. Bhante gave Initiation in the same informal way as Chatral Rinpoche gave him Green Tara. Our Private Preceptors continue in the same spirit. The cottage signifies and very much anchors our connection with the ancient Vajrayana tradition of Tibet – especially the Nyingmapas. It is in danger of demolition; the cottage. I have persuaded the owner to preserve it on the promise of a donation for substantial repairs.

And, this year we are committed to starting a carbon sink; a wood where you actually plant the tree that makes your pilgrimage more eco-friendly.

Our focus however is the new Sramana Trust. Through Sramana, we aim to support men and women renunciants in various ways; chiefly through basic support and accommodation.

Sramana is getting underway in India and is closely associated with the new beginnings of our Movement in the middle land – around the Buddhist Holy places in Bihar and UP. The ancient Buddhist Heartland is now the most backward and poorest part of India. So far, our Movement has had very few activities in Bihar, and indeed, it appears that no other Buddhist organization is actively spreading the Dharma in Bihar – outside a few monastic enclaves.

Things beginning to change. A team of Order members and Dhammamitras based in Buddhagaya are determined to establish the Movement in Bihar and take the Dharma to the poorest most neglected people in India – slowly slowly. We have started by assembling a team, making connections at the Holy places, sending people on retreat and seeking supporters. Shortly we begin building a base, on our land, in Buddha Gaya.

Glimmers from a Hidden Land

A QUARTER OF A MILE UPSTREAM, the graceful white arch of Teesta Bridge floated like a dream between the steep tree-clad slopes. Within a few minutes we were across, and the jeep that had been sent to fetch us from Siligiri Station was shooting up the mountainside along a succession of hairpin bends that lifted us several hundred feet above the river every few minutes. Already the figures on the bridge looked no bigger than ants, while the river itself lay like a ribbon of grey-green jade between the mountains. Every time we swung round a bend new perspectives opened up before us, each one vaster and more awe-inspiring than the last. Behind us, to the west, loomed the mauve and indigo masses of the Darjeeling hills, while across the River Rungeet, to the north, the mountains of Sikkim flowed in ridge upon smoke-blue ridge to the far horizon. Soon the air grew quite cold, though the sky was a vivid blue and the sunshine more brilliant than ever. We were above the clouds. Looking down, we could see them drifting in fleecy white masses down the valley, following the course of the river. With the change of altitude came a change of vegetation. Sal forest gave way to fir and pine, while the bamboo became smaller and less frequent. Every few hundred yards an explosion of pure scarlet proclaimed the presence of the giant poinsettias. Thatched cottages flashed past. Shops, shrines.... When we were seven or eight miles from Teesta Bridge, and nearly 3,000 feet above sea level, thatched cottages began to change into English bungalows with tiled roofs and trim gardens and soon, strung out along the saddleback before us, I saw the town of Kalimpong….


….Kalimpong was a new world. The whole atmosphere of the place was different. Coming as we did from the plains, where only too often life stagnates in its accustomed channels, we experienced everything as being not only fresher and cleaner but more sparkling and alive. It was like drinking ice-cold champagne after warmed-up soup. People went about their perfectly ordinary affairs in a perfectly ordinary manner, but whether on account of the altitude, or for some other reason, there was a sense of exhilaration in the air, as though it was the festive season, or as though they were all on holiday. Missionaries alone excepted, there was a smile on every face, and while it would be an exaggeration to say that there was a song on everybody's lips we could hardly put our head out of the window without hearing, loud and clear in the distance, the cheerful melody of the latest popular film song. And the colours! On account of these alone Kalimpong would have been a new world. From the blues and purples of the mountains to the reds and yellows of the flowers in the Nepali women's hair, they were all preternaturally vivid, as in a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Sometimes, indeed, they glowed with such intensity that everything seemed to be made of jewels. And all the time, above the mirth and the music, above the life and the colour, above the steadfastness of nature and the security of civilization - above everything - there were the snows.

On the morning of our arrival they had been veiled, and we had seen nothing of them, but since then they had shone forth every day, and often for the whole day. With the blue of the valleys at their feet and the blue of the sky above their heads, the shimmering white masses stretched from end to end of the horizon majestic beyond belief. Since the building where Kashyap-ji and I were staying faced north, we had an uninterrupted view of Mount Kanchenjunga, the second highest peak in the entire Himalayan range and the third highest in the world. In the early morning it was particularly beautiful. Looking out of the window just before dawn, I would see it glimmering ghostly in the blue twilight, more like ice than snow. Then, as the sun started rising, the bluish tip of the summit would be flushed by a fiery pink that, in a matter of minutes, had travelled all the way down the peak. Soon the whole range would be a mass of pink embers glowing against the pale blue sky. Pink would change to crimson, crimson to apricot, apricot to the purest, brightest gold. Finally, as the sun cleared the horizon, gold would change to silver and silver to dazzling white. On particularly fine days the mountain wore a white plume, almost like a plume of smoke. According to the experts, this was caused by a strong wind blowing the loose snow from its summit. But whether it wore its plume or not, and regardless of the time of day, I was never tired of looking up at Mount Kanchenjunga as it sat enthroned in the sky. Totally absorbed in itself though it was, and utterly oblivious of my existence, the great white peak nonetheless seemed to speak to me. What it said, I did not know, but perhaps, if I stayed in Kalimpong long enough, and looked hard enough, I would come to understand.


… from practically all quarters of Kalimpong, we had a wonderful view of the snow ranges of the Himalayas. I can see them in my mind's eye even as I speak. And among these snow ranges, among these snow peaks, is the third highest peak in the world - Kanchenjunga - which means 'The Five Treasures of the Snow'. And one could see Kanchenjunga, except during the rainy season, almost every day, just standing there against the blue sky; way up, as it were, in the blue sky. The whole area, in fact, was a very, very inspiring area indeed. One could say that Kanchenjunga was a very inspiring sight; it certainly was; and especially when one saw it practically every day ‑ one never got tired of looking at it ‑ this great snowy peak right up there in the blue sky, with the clouds far below, wearing its white plume, very often, where the snow was blown off it by the winds. But the whole area was very, very inspiring. I remember the atmosphere was very, very clear. You could see, very often, for many, many miles. The atmosphere, in fact, was so clear - and I believe that of Tibet, which of course was very near, just a few miles away, was even clearer ‑ so that in this very clear atmosphere everything stood out with greater vividness, with a very strange, almost hypnotic, vividness of colour. One seemed to see the colours much more clearly than one saw them down in the plains; much more clearly, certainly, than one sees them in this country ‑ even in Brighton! And sometimes it seemed, especially just after the rains, as though everything was made of jewels, that one was living in a world made of jewels, the colours of everything were so bright and so vivid. The white, of course, the snowy white of the mountains, the intense blue of the blue sky, the vivid green of the vegetation, and the scarlet and the yellow and the blue of all the wonderful mountain flowers. And also the gay costumes of the people, whether they were Nepalese or whether they were Tibetans or Bhutanese or Sikkimese, or even Indians. The only people who weren't very colourful in appearance, I'm sorry to say, were the Europeans, especially the missionaries who usually wore black.

So in this world, made, as it were, of jewels, in Kalimpong, I lived for fourteen years, and I founded a small monastery there after seven years, a small vihara; and I had people staying with me from time to time. And all during this period, during these fourteen years, I was getting deeper and deeper into the study and the practice of Buddhism. And I had, fortunately, contact with quite a number of teachers, especially teachers from Tibet, who were at that time beginning to come out, including some very great teachers indeed, and from them I was so fortunate as to receive various ordinations and initiations.

Sangharakshita