The World in Motion - A tribute to my friend

During my travels to Dharamsala, I came across artwork on my Instagram feed that caught my eye: small caricatures smiling brightly across an array of tapering colors, reminiscent of Lungta, རླུང་རྟ (prayer flags). One particular drawing stood out—a conglomerate group of monks with various facial expressions conveying indifference, joy, sadness, laughter, bashfulness, and anger. These few lines on a digital screen told stories of the human condition through the perspective of a Tibetan child whose uncle is a monk, a local acha roaming the streets, or simply an artist using pen and paper as a vessel for storytelling.

I left a comment on the post, eager to know if the artist was residing in Dharamsala during my visit, and luckily, I got to meet him. Achu Jigme Choedak la is an artist whose work transforms the contemporary perspective of the Tibetan experience through virtual and drawn representations, animating everyday scenes. If I were to describe his art, it speaks to the complexity of identity in a changing world.

@genyik.studio is where you can find this self-proclaimed ragman and "artist of untrashing misfits and more," producing portraits and digital art that warmly greets a youthful audience with catchphrases tied to traditional Tibetan illustrations on stickers.

Beyond that, Achu Jigme was a good person and a friend. After engaging in small online conversations, we met for a quick afternoon tea at the Nechung Canteen. He kindly made an effort to come from Gamru to meet me, sharing an umbrella that he brought. I vividly remember sitting in the canteen, feeling like it happened yesterday, as I eagerly inquired about his art. My praises were only a small measure of how deeply his art resonated with me. Yet, Achu Jigme remained humble, simply doing what he loved. I kept asking when he would start selling his work internationally so that I could be the first to make a purchase. He mentioned the difficulties with the necessary processing but assured me he would find a way. In the back of my mind, I knew he would love New York, and I dreamt of hosting him when his art had sold out there.

We laughed over the elaborate presentation of a French press at the small canteen, which he didn't really require. We noticed the humid air carrying the lingering mosquitoes. I'm writing down as much as I can recall because these memories are fresh. I remember the turquoise earring he wore on his left ear and the lectures we endured from our good friend, Rinchen Dorjee, on the meanings of life. With little time left, we visited the nearby Tibetan Museum, where Achu Jigme pulled out a small notebook and pen. We silently roamed the halls, finding moments of solitude. I remember a corner where poems were projected on the wall depicting the first trial in the Terlinkha City Prison in Amdo. Achu was particularly fond of the baby blue Tibetan typewriter on display, and we took a moment to discuss it. I asked if he would ever create Tibetan characters as stickers for a keyboard, and he replied, "One day."

He paused at a photo of a young woman who fled to Dharamsala, losing her toes to frostbite while escaping Tibet through the cold terrain. The expression on her face conveyed a melancholy longing for home. In that instant, I saw Achu grasp the depth of her emotion and later post a drawing titled "Exile is a Lonely Pen" - @badsonam. It was a black and white drawing with facial features cast in shadow and an air bubble that read, "Lhammooo, are you listening?!" It hadn't been a day and yet , Achu Jigme created something that delved into the experience of loss while intertwining it with contemporary reality.

Later on, I had to rush for an interview, but Rinchen and Jigme kindly waited for me. Unfortunately, my interview ran longer than expected, and they had to leave, despite having completed a round of Kora (circumambulation) around the Nechung Monastery while waiting for me.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had someone wait for me.

That was my last day in Dharamsala and the last time I saw Achu Jigme, but it didn't feel like it would be the end of our friendship. Our connection had just begun on the final day of my trip, and it must have been a stroke of luck. I want to think that the last day marked the beginning of our friendship and that maybe in a past life we met the same way. We stayed in touch through Instagram and WhatsApp. He would seek my advice on gaining the trust of a stray kitten so he could properly care for the one outside his door, and I would share art and exhibitions in New York that reminded me of his work. We even discussed what he was having for dinner while I went on my morning run. This happened within a week, and suddenly, the world began spinning faster than I could walk. The world is still in motion, lingering when we can only lead to stumbling on the moving path. His Holiness says that when a loved one passes, what good does crying do? What would our loved one, who looks down on us, feel? Afflictive emotions bind us and our loved ones to this life when we should allow them to move on to the next. Instead, let's preserve their legacy through action, doing what they would want.

To be honest, I don't know what that would be for me right now, but I feel Achu Jigme would have wanted me to express my words like he expressed his world through art. In a constantly moving world, the only thing we can do is continue to create. Just as Jigme Choedak created his world, the world will continue to create for him.

I pray for a swift rebirth for my dear friend Jigme Choedak.

Jigme was a creator of art and words, a beautiful reflection on his 26th year.

Jigme (Right) and Rinchen (Left) taking turns listening to audios in the Museum

A blue Tibetan Typewriter