I had set out one morning with a simple goal: to find authentic Thangka Art in Sikkim. As someone who has dedicated her life to preserving and promoting traditional Indian crafts, I wasn't interested in the mass-produced replicas that greeted tourists in the markets. I was searching for authentic Thangka art, the intricate Tibetan Buddhist paintings created with remarkable detail and spiritual significance.
I began asking around. The first step in finding my authentic Thangka was to ask the hotel concierge, who gave me a recommendation: "If you want to see real Thangka art, look for an artist named Lakpa in a village on the mountainside."
With only this name and vague directions, I began my ascent up the steep mountain paths. In the first village, the locals smiled knowingly when I mentioned Lakpa. "Not here," they said, gesturing upward. "Try the next village."
In the second village, higher still, the response was the same. "Lakpa? Yes, we know him. But he's in the village above." This pattern repeated in the third settlement, testing my resolve with each climbing step.
Exhaustion began to set in, and I nearly abandoned my search. "Just one more village," encouraged a local woman, pointing to the settlement perched near the mountain's peak.
In this fourth and final village, my persistence was rewarded. "Yes, Lakpa is here," confirmed a villager, directing me toward a modest home where children played and a woman washed utensils in the yard.
When I asked for Lakpa, the woman simply pointed to a ladder leading to the highest room in the house—the quiet rooftop. What awaited me above would become one of my most treasured memories as an art seeker.
As I emerged onto the rooftop studio, I found myself in a scene of breath-taking beauty. There sat Lakpa, cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by small containers of pearl dust, gold dust, zinc powder, and lapis lazuli. Before him lay a Thangka painting of extraordinary detail and vibrancy. Through the open windows behind him stretched the majestic panorama of Himalayan snow-capped peaks, as if nature itself had positioned the perfect backdrop for this artistic sanctuary.
At that moment, I felt like an explorer who had discovered a hidden treasure. The authenticity of the setting, the artist's complete absorption in his work, and the spectacular mountainscape framing it all created a convergence of art and nature that words could hardly describe.
For me, this experience reinforced my philosophy that to truly understand traditional art forms, one must seek them in their authentic contexts, where the environment, culture, and craft are inseparably intertwined.
I travelled to Kachchh, the land of vibrant textiles and ancient craftsmanship. In this ocean-enveloped region of north-western India, I discovered what truly deserves to be called the epicentre of textile crafts in the country.
During my exploration, I witnessed how these crafts were intimately woven into the local way of life. In artisans' homes, I found mirror work adorning walls, woven roofs, and intricate Lippankam clay mirror work decorating traditional surfaces. I spent time with women artisans, learning about distinctive embroidery styles like Soof, Ahir, Paco, and Neran—each with unique patterns that often identified specific nomadic tribes.
I met the Bunkars (weavers) who worked primarily with indigenous Kala cotton, skillfully blending it with Tussah Silk, Rayon, and fine cottons. I also observed the creation of Bandhani, where artisans tied tiny knots to create resist-dyed patterns, sometimes combining traditional techniques with Shibori.
My journey included visits to organisations like Kala Raksha, Khamir, and Kasab, which support artisans through livelihood opportunities and design innovation. Somaya Kala Vidyalaya particularly impressed me with its design and business education for local craftspeople.
As my visit ended, I reflected on how Kachchh offered more than beautiful landscapes and rich crafts—it revealed a sustainable, purposeful way of life that harmoniously blended art, culture, and existence.
My journey began with breathtaking aerial views of the Himalayas as I approached Bhutan. Upon landing at Paro's charming airport, I was greeted by my guide Ngedup and the crisp mountain air—immediate signs that I had entered somewhere special.
Our first stop was Thimpu, the capital city, where traditional architecture with richly carved wooden rafters and painted facades dominated the landscape. At the Taj Paro hotel, distinguished by its mustard-coloured exterior, I explored the Memorial Chorten temple and visited Simply Bhutan, an arts center promoting local artisans. My first taste of Bhutanese cuisine featured vegetable and lentil dishes accompanied by the fiery chili cheese that "burns your tongue but warms your insides."
The journey continued to Punakha via the mystical Dhochu La pass, where 108 small temples built by the queen mother commemorate a military victory. In Punakha, I hiked to the Khamsum Yuelley Namgyel Chorten, a temple promoting world peace, before undertaking an exhilarating white-water rafting adventure down the Phochu River.
Travelling deeper into Bhutan, I visited the "divine mad god's temple" (Chimi L'Akhang), notable for its unique spiritual heritage and connection to Lama Kunley, who is represented by phallic symbols celebrating life's vitality.
In the remote Phobhjhikha valley, I experienced the serenity of star-filled nights and pure mountain air. I hiked to the 17th-century Gangtey Goemba temple and explored the enchanting valley with its virgin forests and small villages.
The journey took me to the Ha valley on the Bhutan-China border, where I stayed in a charming heritage hotel surrounded by the sounds of water springs and prayer bells. From here, I visited Chelela pass, the world's highest motorable road, adorned with thousands of prayer flags and offering stunning mountain views.
Back in Paro, I explored the fortress-temple with its beautiful central courtyard before returning to Thimpu's crafts market to purchase vibrant scarves, singing bowls, and traditional items.
The highlight of my trip was the arduous four-hour climb to Tiger's Nest (Taktsan Monastery), perched 900 ft up a cliff. This sacred labyrinth of cave temples, dedicated to Amitabha and Guru Rimpoche, offered pure air, a sparkling waterfall, and breathtaking views.
On my final night, I reflected on Bhutan's uniqueness, its blend of natural beauty, cultural preservation, and warm hospitality. The country's commitment to traditional arts, architecture, and dress has created a harmonious society where ancient ways thrive alongside natural splendour. For me, Bhutan represents "the closest place to finding Heaven on Earth."
Which state is Thangka Art from?
Thangka art, a prominent form of Tibetan Buddhist art, is often associated with Sikkim, Ladakh, and Arunachal Pradesh, as well as parts of Himachal Pradesh
When did Thangka originate?
Thangka paintings are said to have originated in the 11th century in Tibet.
What does Thangka symbolise?
Thangka serve as teaching tools depicting the life of the Buddha, various influential lamas, and other deities and bodhisattvas.
What are the key symbols of thangka painting?
Some of the key religious symbols that can be seen in thangka paintings are lotus flowers, banners, knots, fish, umbrellas, vases, conch shells, and the dharma wheel.
Motivated by her passion, Shibani Dasgupta Jain established Baaya Design in 2009. Her venture has become a platform that bridges the gap between rural artisans' traditional skills and the modern market, enriching urban lifestyles with a touch of heritage.