WHEN THE IRON-BIRD FLIES – CONTENTS

A Colonial Subject’s Anguish
The Tragedy Of Life
The Elusive Greenbacks
Crazy Life. Crazy Money.
Two Rights Don’t Make A Wrong.
Pray for A Penny …
Miserable Misty Mornings …
Meeting A Friend …
Mahjong Players
Questionable Offerings
Some Say …
Those Requesting Autonomy
We Refuse To Learn …
Our History Books …
A Disastrous Course
Raindrops
The Violent Storm
An Uncontrolled Mind
Joyful Impermanence
Teaching Karma
Renunciation Taking Shape
The Beginning Of Freedom
Sky Of Mind-nature
Motoring Thru’ Manali Roads
Can The Skies Get Any Bluer?
Tibetans, Impermanence Says –
Mao And His Legacy
Party Heroes
In The End …
Politics In China
The Chinese Empire
Fear And China
Human Rights In China
A Civilization Gone Bust
One Country. One Party.
Freedom Seems A Distant Dream
Flies In A Closed Bottle …
Give This Poor Fool An Ear.
Freedom In The Wings.
On The Question Of Tibet …
Life Is But A Sequence …
When The Iron-Bird Flies …
Raise The Lungta Banners.
The Dilemma Of The Dispossessed
Snippets Of Irony.
Giant Pandas In U.S. Cities.
We Do Exist.
People Said He Was A Recluse …
It’s Still A Crazy World.
Shol Dawa And The Dark Empire
Shol Dawa la
Nkosi Johnson
Vaisaka Purnima
The Buddha’s Teaching
India And Tibet
Beloved Saint, You’re Still Alive.
Thangtong Gyalpo
The Great River’s Story.
Long-Life Initiations.

A Colonial Subject’s Anguish

In the beginning,
Without exception
We are all born
Naked and helpless.

In the middle,
Without exception
Our fleeting lives
Can be kind and rational.

In the end,
Without exception
We all depart
Unaccompanied, penniless.

So why are the Chinese
Demolishing Tibetaness,
Destroying Tibet, and
Demonising themselves?

May all colonists
Without exception
Realise their folly, and
Let their subjects, be free.

The Tragedy Of Life

It’s often said
The tragedy of life is –
It’s always too late
Because of Impermanence.

Too late to change
Your long, cherished habits.
Too late to study it
All over again.
Too late to pay
A debt of gratitude.

Too late to win
Your country’s freedom.
Too late to right
Wrong  perpetrated.
Too late to even
Meditate and save yourself.

But I’ve begun to wonder
If we haven’t
Got it all wrong.
The heartening counsel is –
It’s never too late.
For Awareness
Accomplishes all.
Only an immortal
Would really know.

“Study as if you are going
To live forever.
Live as if you are going
To die tomorrow”.
Who could have
Uttered such words
Except the Mahatma immortal.
May all beings cherish your values
And attain immortality
Beyond the pale of conditioned
Impermanence and suffering.

The Elusive Greenbacks

The Elusive Greenbacks
Our mind’s object
Daily life’s subject.

Those who need it
Rarely have it.

Those who don’t require
Too much they acquire.

Those who have it
Never spend it.

If my lottery ticket wins
I’d distribute it in tins.

If my dreams come true
There’ll be plenty for you.

The Elusive Greenbacks
That one always lacks.

Crazy Life. Crazy Money.

People pray for it.
People work for it.
People even sell
Themselves for it.

People steal for it.
People die for it.
People even rob
Others for it.

People spend it wisely.
People spend it miserly.
People even love it
Ever so madly.

Two Rights Don’t Make A Wrong

Two rights
Don’t make a wrong.
Never give up
Virtuous practices.

Two wrongs
Don’t make a right.
Immediately purify,
Discontinue non-virtue.

A right
And a wrong.
Two’s a crowd
For a single moment.

So practicing virtue,
No room for non-virtue.
In time you’ll find
Non-virtue rare, miserable.

The secret is
To be conscientiously
Mindful and vigilant
And never give up.

Pray For A Penny …

Some folks say
“Pray for a penny,
You’ll get a pound.”

Other folks say
“Pray for pounds,
You’ll get pennies.”

But the truth is
“Work for dollars,
You’ll get dollars.”

But happiness and honey
Can’t be bought with money.
Happiness, you’ll find
Is very much in the mind.

So always be clear
To hold others dear.
Then a happy state
Will always be your fate.

Miserable Misty Mornings …

 

Miserable misty mornings,
Mirror my mind’s
Myriad  musings.
Muddled moments.
Mindfulness misplaced.
Misery multiplying massively,
Menacing me mysteriously.

Meeting A Friend …

Meeting a friend
One pours a peg.
Relating events
Another peg.
Recollecting the past
Another and another.

We share
The good times.
We just bypass
The inconvenient ones.

That’s the secret
Of  happiness
With or without
Alcoholic pegs.

In a flash
It’s past midnight.
Present pleasures
Appear unrivalled.

Though tomorrow is just
A hangover away,
Tomorrow is
Another existence.

Mahjong Players

Recalling Chinese contributions
to Tibetan culture,
I return to childhood
and snowbound Dalhousie.
Midnight manoeuvres
in the dark, supported
by flickering candles –
shivering, trekking home.
Returning after my dad’s
weekend session of mahjong.

Distasteful game I’d say.
Making a boisterous din
banging bricks of plastic,
decorated and engraved
with idiotic ideograms.
Voices booming
meaningless mutter.
Money exchanging hands.
Disastrous game I’d say.

Today, when a Tibetan
mahjong player presents.
I pity his pockets
for loss is the rule.
I pity his ignorance
promoting Chinese culture.
I pity his fate
addicted to hopelessness.
Disaster in triplicate I’d say.