As Chennai immerses itself in its vibrant December music and dance season, a small but resilient community prepares for a different kind of celebration. For the Tibetans who have made this southern Indian city their home, December 10 holds profound significance—it is the anniversary of the Dalai Lama receiving the Nobel Peace Prize.
A Fading Community Keeps Tradition Alive
Dawa Choezom, a chartered accountant residing in Chennai, explains that this annual gathering is a global observance for Tibetans. "It happens world-over," he says. Despite their dwindling numbers—"There are hardly 20 of us left in Chennai"—this date remains sacrosanct. "This is the one time of year we make it a point to come together for an evening," Dawa emphasizes. The event is organized by the group Friends of Tibet.
This year's celebration has a delicious theme: momos. "We will prepare vegetarian momos together, followed by Gor-shey (Tibetan circle folk dance)," Dawa shares, highlighting how food and dance serve as vital threads connecting them to their heritage.
Dreams of a Homeland Left Behind
The story of Rinchen Tashi mirrors the painful journey of many. He undertook the arduous trek from Lhasa to Nepal over 25 years ago at the young age of 14. "It took us a month on foot through the snowy mountains, and many died during the journey in snowstorms," Tashi recounts, carrying just "a backpack and three pairs of shoes." Now 45, he hasn't seen Tibet or his parents since.
"Sometimes when I'm asleep, I see Tibet in my dreams; all the places I grew up in. And I feel like I am in Tibet," he says, his voice tinged with longing. The fear of persecution keeps families apart. "Even my parents are too scared to ask me to visit Tibet now; many who tried were imprisoned or simply went missing."
Building a New Life and a Taste of Tibet in Chennai
Chennai's welcoming nature and economical college fees drew Tashi for higher studies. However, a craving for authentic Tibetan food sparked his entrepreneurial journey. "In 2008, there were about 200 Tibetan students in Chennai. I couldn't find authentic Tibetan food," he recalls. This led him to rent a place in Choolaimedu and start a small restaurant specializing in momos, which he named Momo-sa-khang by Kailash kitchen after Mount Kailash in Tibet.
Tenzing Tsetan's narrative is similar. Arriving in Chennai in 2002, she hasn't seen her parents since. "Those who escaped Tibet are treated as separatists and persecuted," she states. After schooling in Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand, she studied Tibetan medicine in Dharamshala before settling in Chennai.
Tashi sheds light on the severe communication barriers with those back home. "The Chinese took all our passports, so no one can travel up or down now. Instagram and Facebook are accessible in Tibet, but everything is censored." WhatsApp is blocked, forcing families to rely on letters and mobile network calls.
Cultural Roots in a Foreign Land
For second-generation Tibetans like Dawa, who has never set foot in Tibet, daily rituals become a powerful link to her ancestry. Every morning, she lights incense and offers prayers at the Buddhist shrine in her home. Her breakfast is tsampa (roasted barley flour), a traditional Tibetan staple, mixed with milk, butter, and sugar. "It keeps me connected to home," she says.
Rinchen Tashi notes that Chennai once hosted a much larger Tibetan population. "Chennai had at least 200 Tibetans at one point of time, but most have left." This makes the annual December 10 gathering not just a commemoration, but a crucial act of cultural preservation for the community that remains, binding them through shared memory, food, and dance.
