THE SNOW LION BUDDHIST NEWS & CATALOG

That day passed and night fell. I went to sleep, close to my father. Often my father chanted prayers all night long. I was certain that all fathers must not sleep, that they must chant through the night just like my father did. On this particular night I woke up repeatedly because I was so excited to see the lama. Rain was falling against our yak-hair tent; it made a beautiful echoing sound that seemed to perfectly harmonize with my father's chanting.

Early the next morning, my mother, Pema Lhadze, was preparing our village nomad breakfast, churning milk to make butter, all the while chanting calling the lama from afar according to the great tertön Pema Lingpa. My sisters, Yangzom and Ting Ting Karmo, were sleeping nearby. My father was practicing. I asked him, "When will we see the lama?" He said, "After breakfast." But my father was intensely practicing, and it seemed he would not be done until long after breakfast was finished. My mother said to him, "Gyalchog, won't you go after breakfast? All the villagers are gathering, and the boy is excited." So we ate our meal and off we went.

Some participants at the historic 1962 Nyingma Kama transmission

We walked to where the villagers were gathering and entered the tent in which the lama was staying. As soon as we saw him, we began prostrating. The lama immediately called out, "Gyega, don't do prostrations. Come close to me and sit." ("Gyega" was my father's nickname.) My father and I did a few more prostrations, and then we sat down. I recall the lama being very affectionate to me. He touched my head and rubbed my ears a bit. He even gave me some candy. In our region of Tibet at this time, candy was quite rare, so it was special and dear to children.

This lama was the great siddha and tertön Raya Tulku, the reincarnation of Gechag Tsangyang Gyamtso, a renowned crazy wisdom yogi of the late nineteenth century. Raya Tulku was very famous. He was married and had very long hair, which he wore curled up on his head. His eyes were round, and so was his face; he had dark skin and a fierce appearance. The villagers said he looked like a wrathful deity. But he was actually quite gentle.

A year earlier Raya Tulku had gone on pilgrimage to central Tibet, in particular to visit Lhasa and Samye Monastery. My father knew this; he asked Raya Tulku, "How did it go?" "Wonderful," Raya Tulku replied, and he proceeded to describe some of the places he visited. Then he said, "I had the great opportunity to see Dudjom Tulku." This was the first time my father and I ever heard the name of His Holiness Dudjom Rinpoche. "Who is he?" my father asked. Raya Tulku said, "He is the reincarnation of Dudjom Lingpa, the famous terton of the nineteenth century." My father wanted to know what Dudjom Tulku looked like. "Very simple and casual," said Raya Tulku. "He is a householder of middle age, and he wears his hair plaited. He is neither tall nor short. He is a great scholar, and very realized." Raya Tulku went on to say, "I asked Dudjom Tulku how long I could expect to live." My father asked, "What did he say?" And Raya Tulku replied, "He said, 'I cannot tell you. You yourself will know.'" Dudjom Tulku must be very special, I thought, to have made such a strong impression upon a master like Raya Tulku.

My father studied and memorized many texts revealed by great tertons over the centuries that contained prophecies made by Guru Padmasambhava. Guru Padmasambhava forecasted that around this time—the 1950s—the Tibetan people would be overrun by a foreign invader and that they should seek refuge in the south, in Pema Kö. My father knew and repeatedly warned the villagers that the Chinese Communists were coming. "We must leave," my father said. "We must go to Pema Ko." The villagers, some of whom were relatives, laughed and joked about this, saying, "Oh yeah, Gyega? And what other information do you have?" When they saw him they would sing, "Ha Ho, Ha Ho, time to go to Pema Ko." But my father was steadfast; he knew Guru Padmasambhava's prophecies would come true. The villagers tried to prevent our departure. When they realized we were definitely leaving, they told us we had made the wrong decision. Everyone thought my father was unbalanced. We left at the end of 1958. The journey was long and arduous. Then, in early 1960, we entered Pema Ko.

Pema Ko is located in southern Tibet between east India and Burma. There are no modern roads in Pema Ko, or in Tibet as a whole for that matter, but if there were, a two- to three-hour drive to the north would take you to majestic glacial mountains. A similar drive down to the valley would take you to tropical rainforests. There can be enormous climatic variations in Pema Ko, but it is mostly tropical. Rain is plentiful, and bamboo, palm trees, and many types of tropical vegetation grow abundantly.

Pema Ko is the hidden land (sbas yul) of Guru Padmasambhava. It is, he taught, a refuge for Tibetans during difficult times and a superb place for spiritual practice. He described paths that led from Tibet to Pema Ko.

Signs of Realization

This account of the death of one of the greatest masters of the 20th century, Dudjom Rinpoche, is taken from the Introduction to his new biography, Introduction to Light of Fearless Indestructible Wisdom.

His Holiness Dudjom Rinpoche entered mahaparinirvana on January 17, 1987, at his home in Dordogne, in southern France. There were many signs of his great realization—visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile. The visual signs were that his complexion remained bright and clear, just as a living person; also, rainbows and spheres of light appeared. The auditory signs were beautiful sounds heard in and around the home. The olfactory signs were beautiful fragrances, also within and outside his home. His Holiness's body was flexible and soft to the touch, without a trace of rigidity—this was the tactile sign.

Before His Holiness's kudung was embalmed, it was observed by lama-disciples to be both getting smaller and becoming less dense, a process called ö-du-zhu ('od du zhu), which may be translated as "melting away" or "melting into light," another sign of great Dzogchen realization. At the same time the kudung was being embalmed in France, preparations were being made to receive it at his monastery in Kathmandu, Nepal, known as Orgyen Dongak Chökhorling.

His Holiness's kudung was flown to Kathmandu Airport. The monastery arranged a great procession. Great teachers, monks, and devotees from all the neighboring monasteries lined the streets and offered their devotion. According to the varying customs of the people, there were beautiful displays of singing and dancing. Then the kudung was flown to Bhutan, where it received a similar reception. After this it was returned to Nepal.

His Holiness's kudung was taken to his monastery and placed in a stupa built and consecrated under the close supervision of Kyabje Chatral Rinpoche. (His Holiness's face is visible from the stupa.) Spheres of light appeared as this took place, not only inside and outside the monastery but also around neighboring buildings as well. People in these buildings mistook these spheres of lights for stains and tried to wipe them off windows. Some people saw buddhas such as Vajrasattva and Guru Padmasambhava within spheres of light; others saw beautiful landscapes. A nun named Ani Tamdrin, known to be very skeptical regarding visions, actually saw the holy lake Tso Pema and His Holiness together within a sphere of light and was heard rejoicing over it. The great master Kyabje Chatral Rinpoche saw blue Vajrasattva. Many people witnessed and were inspired by these occurrences, not only his devotees but even those who did not know the dharma. For the latter, a profound and everlasting connection was made.