RYI STUDENT BLOG

BA first year students study this text, the Way of the Bodhisattva , at Rangjung Yeshe Institute. Its Sanskrit name is Bodhicharyavatara, and in Tibetan, popularly called by its abbreviated title; sphyod ‘jug. I haven’t had a chance to study it with khenpos or other teachers except for parts of it, but I cannot count how many times I have read this text in my life (in Japanese). It was when I read the below verse in chapter 8 that I first developed interest in Buddhism. I guess it’s ten years ago. All the joy the world contains Has come through wishing happiness for others. All the misery the world contains Has come through wanting pleasure for oneself. This was shocking, but very true. Since then, I open any page of the book when I am sad, sick, or just feel like reading it. There are verses that reflect my feeling of the time. There are verses that teach something different in different times though the words are exactly the same. There are verses that fina

Every day, when I practice, I start by contemplating the precious human body, endowed with all the freedoms and advantages. Often it may seem quite repetitive, to go over the same reflection every day, the same features of life which I should cherish. Yet every now and again something happens that really brings it home, and makes some things that I take for granted stand out again in all their uniqueness. Lately, that something was my trip to France during the winter break. Of course, life there in general is very different, and for a beginner in the practice it is difficult to keep the same rhythm and the same motivation when one is surrounded by people with very different interests and activities. But even beyond that, something struck me in the ubiquitous public debates surrounding the January events in Paris (the terrorist attack on a satirical newspaper for its drawings of Mohamed). Though France is a pretty free country compared to most, and my point here is not to cr

In the middle of the night, the air in Delhi is orange with pollution, or maybe with fate, which hangs in the air in every city after the occupants have slipped out into sleep. Arriving one year and a half later was surprisingly the same. In the summer, the air in Delhi had sunk to the earth. That night, early spring, it was lifting off on a cool wind; the barking of mangy dogs whisked up into the dark like the wings of the birds that still flew, at that late hour, above the trash-banked river. An unseasonable rain. Thoughts on thoughtlessness : springing storms winter rain frosted bones earthbound plane apple breath early light filling moon crane in flight Every year, the rain comes and we tip back our heads to watch and catch it on our tongues. Symptoms of nostalgia too much with weight rule out any warnings on the path. Boudha is transformed by the rain. Clouds roll in from the south, passing over the Himalayas and picking up mist that’s been cy

Voila !!  here I am, away from the crazy city life of Delhi, away from my homeland but certainly with a good purpose to return with gifts loaded with new insights, baggages full of experiences to share.  Understandably, the decision of being here was bound to be quite nervy in the sense that not only I was stepping in a relatively new culture and environment, but a new course of study altogether which in a way will define my academic belongings & afterwards, a satisfying job, would I be able to get ??  Such concerns hang in the minds of most of us but the “good news” I have from here to those aspiring to be a part, is that I’m sure, it really will be a memorable time out here because the whole ambience is decorated with beautiful people from so many countries, a blend of traditional & modern approaches to learning,  a coherent system of administration, an amazing experience of a new culture of Newars & literally with stars studded with noble intentions that one ind