a place called home

On a windswept evening in MacLeodganj, Dharamsala, a group of young Tibetans were bustling about the city centre. They helped labourers erect a makeshift shelter close to the gates of the Dalai Lama's temple. As a gentle drizzle began, monks dressed in deep maroon and ordinary Tibetans trickled into the shelter. They sat crosslegged on the floor and began a prayer for fellow Tibetans who were protesting in China on their country's behalf. Many had been injured in the crackdown that followed the wave of public demonstrations. The prayer would be held through the coming weeks.

The energetic youngsters – all of them in their early or mid-twenties, strung brightly coloured prayer flags across the length of the city centre. A girl dressed in a traditional Tibetan costume tied the Tibetan flag above the shelter. As the rain built up to a crescendo over the city that hosts the Tibetan government in exile, the yellow flag quietly fluttered in the breeze.

In every nook and corner of Dharamsala's Tibetan settlement, posters and pictures remind the world of Tibet's predicament. Gaffiti screams from the walls of the town. The story of the country's forty-six year struggle for identity and the predicament of thousands of Tibetan exiles unravel in words and pictures. China hosts the Olympic Games which are set to begin on August 8, 2008. Banners hung from prominent spots in the town record a countdown to the spectacle. As the Games draws closer, every banner sends out the same message in big, bold letters: ONE WORLD, ONE DREAM. FREE TIBET.

The majority of young Tibetans who are busy with the campaign have never been to Tibet. They were born in India and educated here. They have no memories of Tibet except the ones their parents share with them occassionally. "My parents ran away from Tibet just after they got married. They were very young when they came here. They worked hard to provide me and my brother with an education. I teach at a local school. We have a good life here and I am satisfied," says Sonam (26), who was born in Dharamsala. Chemi (24) works at the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives at MacLeodganj. She has never seen the spectacular heights of Tibet, but dreams of returning to her country some day.

The 100,000 Tibetan exiles scattered across India carry an imaginary map of Tibet on their mental screens. For many of them, Tibet is a landscape that stirs intense longing; an imaginary home that beckons from across borders. Some fear they may not be able to grow roots in Tibet since they have built a life for themselves in India. Whether they yearn to return to Tibet or not, the country occupies centre stage in their thoughts.

Chemi (24), who works at the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, MacLeodganj, has never seen Tibet's spectacular heights. She was born in India after her parents' move to o Dharamsala thirty years ago. "I have lived in India all my life. I am grateful for the government's hospitality and the generous gesture of giving asylum to Tibetans. But, in this country, we will always be seen as refugees. I want to go back to Tibet and live there. I haven't been lucky enough to see my country. But it is my home. And always will be," says her quiet, determined voice.

Among many youngsters, there is a growing frustration with His Holiness the Dalai Lama's demand for autonomy for Tibet. Though they consider him Tibet's supreme leader in word and spirit, they want more. Complete independence is their mantra. Whereas autonomy would leave China holding the reins of vital areas like foreign affairs, a completely independent Tibet will be governed in all aspects by the Kashag (Tibetan parliament).

"Our struggle is based on the ideology of non-violence. Peace and tolerance are an indelible part of the Tibetan psyche. We cannot forget that and launch a war for independence," says fiery Tibetan poet and activist, Tenzin Tsundue. But he sounds a warning note. "Non-violence is the right way. But is it enough to guarantee a victory? The world is watching our struggle. In our world, especially since after the attack on September 11, violence has become a given. How will the Tibetan struggle reflect this reality? You cannot escape from this reality," he adds.

An earlier generation may have been satisfied with the dim prospect of Tibet's independence and fuzzy hopes of a return to their homelands. The new generation, armed with the ferocity of youth, wants more and wants it now. As China hurtles towards unbridled economic growth and consolidates its economic hegemony on the world stage, which world power will drag China to the negotiating table over the thorny issue of Tibet's future? Geo-politics and trade, economics and military might. The construction of two new railroads in Tibet's remote reaches which many say will lead to an influx of Han Chinese into Tibet. This can destroy the fabric of traditional Tibetan society and its indigenous culture. Can Tibet's struggle for independence triumph over these larger than life realities?

"There is always hope," says a defiantly optimistic Tsundue. "We are fighting for the dignity of our people and there is no hard and fast route to independence. The struggle must be consistent. It must go on despite the pressures that are exerted on it from various quarters. Be consistent and carry on, that's my message to the people involved in this long, arduous struggle."

As the world watches the pomp and splendour of the Olympics unfolding before its eyes this month, some may spare a thought for Tibet. For others, it may not even be a blimp on their mental radar. The Olympics has turned the spotlight on Tibet's future for a few fleeting weeks. But even after the lights have dimmed, Tibetans all over the world will continue to dream. Their hopes, flickering, like a candle in the mighty wind.