If you climb the steps in the new wall behind Khyentse Labrang, and turn left, you suddenly find yourself in northern India (as opposed to the Tibetan refugee colony, which in some ways is a different country altogether). Some of Rinpoche’s neighbours still live in traditional mud huts, but even those who have built themselves concrete boxes continue to surround themselves with children and birds and animals.
Whereever there is a cow, there are also neatly flatten cow pats drying in the sun that are destined to be burnt to warm the now very chillly nights. The brilliantined cocks rarely crow at day break, but after lunch they can’t seem to help themselves! Perhaps Indians cocks suffer sunstroke?
Yesterday I walked that way an hour or so before dusk (or what passes for dusk in this part of the world) and as the light was being extremely generous, managed to bag a few goodies.
Oiling a Rusty Mind 
beautiful!