It was the early 1960s and throughout the Himalayas it seemed like everything was falling apart. Monasteries had been destroyed. Great masters had been killed. Families were displaced. Then Tsewang Paljor left his post as chagzöd of Khyentse Labrang and many people probably thought the fate and good fortune of the Khyentse lineage had ended.
Someone had to step into his shoes. The only eligible person, it seems, was Tashi Namgyal of the Drumo family. The Drumo family was an aristocratic family of the Derge kingdom. When Tashi Namgyal was born, a soothsayer said that this boy would not live long so his family offered him to become the attendant of Dzongsar Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö. Offering children to a great master for the wellbeing of the child was a common practice in Tibet.
Growing up, Tashi Namgyal wasn’t known as being learned. The only thing he ever really studied was blowing the gyaling (a Tibetan horn). Not only was he very good, he clearly enjoyed it and always cared for his horns meticulously. He was an excellent gyaling instructor as well, some of the tunes he taught are still being played today. And yet you couldn’t find someone as forgetful as him. He would often go to the market to buy something and come back empty handed. Or he would be searching everywhere for his robe only to realize he was already wearing it.
Tashi Namgyal was notoriously slow moving and longwinded. When we’d travel by train across India, there was always a tense moment when he would disembark at stops along the way to get a quick cup of tea or hot water. The train would always whistle three times before leaving the station again. I remember so many times hearing the third whistle and watching him jog after the moving train with his hot tea, leaping into the car at the last moment possible. Luckily these Indian trains moved slowly, and in the third class compartments where we sat had no doors barring him from jumping on.
Because he was an aristocrat, Tashi Namgyal had countless cousins, nephews and nieces. He loved them and in turn they adored him. He exuded “kind uncle” to these young people. He also loved watching local football matches in Gangtok. Rain or shine, he would go to the stadium with a wooden plank in his bag; since it wasn’t really a proper stadium, he needed the plank as a seat. Of course, I was never allowed to leave the grounds, let alone attend a football match with him.
Looking back at my childhood, there are a lot of things that I can be grateful for. Obviously I had so much merit to have met the path of Siddhartha, the dharma, and many incredible masters. But I now realize that it was also great merit when Chagdzöd Tsewang Paljor quit and Tashi Namgyal became my chagdzöd and subsequently my caretaker.
Usually when a lama’s incarnation is identified, the attendants are very narrow minded and shortsighted about how the boys are trained. Often the attendants and chagzöds err on the side of sectarianism and only introduce one tradition. But in my case, the moment there was news of an initiation or teaching—whether it was from Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche or 16th Karmapa or HH Sakya Trizin or many other masters—Chagdzöd Tashi Namgyal would make sure I was there at all costs. Not only was this unconventional, it was very difficult for him to arrange because the labrang was penniless.
He sent me here and there despite a lot of opposition with all kinds of people criticizing him behind his back. Nyingmapas grumbled about him taking me to the Sakyapa and Kagyupa teachings. Sakyapas grumbled about him bringing me to the Kagyupas and Nyingmapas. His response to these grumblings was always a big smile. There was never a confrontation. But he was firm in knowing what he needed to do. He even turned down the great Nyingma master Chatrul Rinpoche when he offered to supervise my studies. While Tashi Namgyal encouraged me to receive teachings from Chatrul Rinpoche, he didn’t want to surrender me entirely to one tradition.
My grandfather Dudjom Rinpoche with Chatrul Rinpoche
In Tashi Namgyal’s mind I should be as nonsectarian as possible because I was supposedly the incarnation of Dzongsar Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö who, among many other reasons, was revered for his unparalleled dedication to all the lineages of Tibetan Buddhism. Tashi Namgyal was committed to continuing this tradition by introducing me to all these great masters and their teachings and blessing.
When I was enrolled in Sakya College studying Buddhist philosophy, the college had a comprehensive curriculum that required strict attendance. But in the middle of the semester, Tashi Namgyal often took me out of school to attend teachings or initiations. This raised eyebrows. Then, in my last year at the college, Tashi Namgyal insisted I leave right before the end of the year, which meant I missed the examination and therefore I never graduated. I was annoyed by his decision at the time because it meant I would have no diploma. Tashi Namgyal’s response was that there is no more precious diploma than the title of Jamyang Khyentse.
Even though at that time it wasn’t pleasant to hear, it must have made an impression because years later, when I failed to finish my master’s degree at SOAS at the University of London, it didn’t really bother me. This must be Tashi Namgyal’s influence.
SOAS at the University of London
With this loyalty to the Rime tradition—even though he wasn’t a great scholar—Tashi Namgyal eclipsed those so-called learned people who were actually quite narrow minded and sectarian. It was my merit to have my education guided by him. I cannot repay his kindness enough for this.
My father
If I mention my merit in this context, I also have to mention my family. My family was strongly Nyingmapa. My grandfather, Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche, and father Dungse Thinley Norbu Rinpoche, both had influential positions within the Nyingmapa tradition. They could have easily influenced Khyentse Labrang and demanded that I not be taken to all these Kagyupa and Sakyapa teachings, but my family never interfered. Looking at some of the present incarnations with families and labrangs controlling their training and upbringing, I now appreciate my family’s generosity and trust.
Shamar Rinpoche
Tashi Namgyal, being a Khampa aristocrat, valued family honor. You could interpret this as loyalty or you could interpret it as nepotism. His sister gave birth to Shamar Rinpoche. Many years later, Shamar Rinpoche was involved in the dispute over the enthronement of the 17th Karmapa incarnation. Shamar Rinpoche endorsed one Karmapa, and Situ Rinpoche endorsed a different one. As an uncle, Tashi Namgyal was strongly on the side of Shamar Rinpoche. But to his credit, he never once, not for a minute, tried to influence me to side with him. On the contrary he reminded me that geographically Dzongsar Monastery was close to Palpung Monastery in Derge, and so too were the previous incarnations of Situ and Khyentse, and that this should be remembered.
Tai Situ Rinpoche with one of the 17th Karmapas
If I have any sort of appreciation and veneration for the different schools—not only different schools of Tibetan Buddhism—but other Buddhist traditions such as Zen and Theravada, I have to say that Tashi Namgyal played a role in that. Tashi Namgyal died in Bir 08/08/07, August 8, 2007. He will remembered by me as one of the most kind and soft human beings I have met.
Yangchen Shenyantsang with Tashi Namgyal in Sikkim
Tashi Namgyal in Bir, Himachal Pradesh