Divine Calligraphy: Sacred Letters of the Himalaya
Writing has always held a special place in my heart. Yet, it took a serendipitous encounter with the calligraphy practiced by people of the Himalayas to awaken me to the sacred potency inherent in written words.
Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆
Early on, my fascination with the inherent power of words led me to Chinese calligraphy. Fascinated by the timeless elegance of Arabic script, I embarked on a journey to study Arabic and its calligraphy during the pandemic. Then, this July, a serendipitous encounter introduced me to the world of Tibetan calligraphy. This led me to join a workshop that spanned the entire summer. However, as these recent lessons came to a close, they mark not an end, but the beginning of something new.
As one might expect, Tibetan calligraphy is intrinsically tied to the predominant religion in Tibet: Buddhism. Proficiency in calligraphy is often a hallmark of nobility, high lamas, and individuals of esteemed rank. I have the privilege of being introduced to this art by our instructor, Rinpoche Ugyen Tenzing, a highly-respected figure originally from Bhutan.
Unlike other East Asian calligraphy traditions, which utilise a brush, Tibetan and Bhutanese calligraphy relies on the use of a bamboo pen. Having previously practiced Arabic calligraphy, a tradition employing the reed pen, I find Tibetan calligraphy to be a somewhat more familiar terrain, which proved less challenging for me than it did for novice practitioners.
Tibetan calligraphy encompasses various scripts, with the most prevalent script for writing the Tibetan language being "Uchen" (དབུ་ཅན།), signifying "headed". What initially drew me to the world of Tibetan calligraphy was the Uchen script, notable for its distinctive features: robust horizontal lines and gracefully tapering vertical strokes.
The origin of Tibetan script is traced back to Thonmi Sambhota who is credited with inventing the script in the 7th century. The system for writing Uchen script was developed much later, around the 9th century, by scholar Khyungpo Yutri, with his student drafting the handwriting manual. Later commentaries by Desi Sangye Gyatso formed the basis of the Uchen script, a formal script designed to record important documents by scholars and members of the educated.
Much to my surprise, our class didn’t begin with the Uchen script, but Rañjanā script, also known as Lanydza script. The Rañjanā script is no less important than Uchen script. This ancient script, developed in the 11th century, was used by people dwelling throughout Nepal and Tibet to write Sanskrit.
For the first half of the workshop, we were taught two mantras in Rañjanā script:
Om mani padme hum: the six-syllabled Sanskrit mantra associated with the four-armed Shadakshari form of Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion
Om ah hum soha: the five-syllabled Sanskrit mantra that has tremendous power to purify space and mind. “Om” stands for the body, “ah” for the speech, and “hum” for the mind.
Paper, Guidelines and Pads
To get started, you need the following:
Standard A4 paper
Bamboo pen
Ruler
Markers (ideally in red & black colour)
Mousepad (optional)
To begin with, it’s worth noting the importance of drawing guidelines before diving into actual writing. Specifically, for the Rañjanā script, the size of the grid is closely tied to the sizes of the bamboo pen’s nib.
As beginners, we were provided with paper printed a faint script, which served as a valuable guide to familiarise ourselves with the scripts. As I progressed through the class and no longer needed to trace the script, I made the transition to using copperplate printing paper. This paper's smooth texture not only facilitates better ink flow but also has the capacity to absorb ink more effectively, ensuring greater consistency in our writing.
For an even better writing experience, consider placing a mousepad underneath, as its rubber composition provides a much suitable surface compared to writing directly on the desktop.
Writing with Bamboo Pen
Different from the conventional way of holding a pen, where it's grasped between the index and middle fingers, we were instructed to hold our bamboo pen using only the thumb and the index finger, free from the control of the middle finger. This unconventional grip allows for a smoother twisting and turning of the pen during the writing process.
It’s worth noting that each of our bamboo pens is meticulously handcrafted by Rinpoche Ugyen Tenzing. As we were told, the back end of the bamboo pen is intentionally carved to resemble the sword of the bodhisattva Manjushri, who is revered as the Bodhisattva of Supreme Wisdom.
When writing the Rañjanā script, you should commence each letter from the centre: you begin by moving downward first, completing the lower half, and then proceed upward. Rinpoche Ugyen Tenzing explained that this process is akin to drawing the vajra, a type of club with a ribbed spherical head often depicted in thangka paintings.
What immediately struck me as the most significant difference between Arabic and Tibetan calligraphy is the direction of the script. Arabic calligraphy is predominantly horizontal, written from right to left, with horizontal curves. While some Arabic alphabets do contain vertical elements, such as the “alif” (ا), Tibetan script, by comparison, places a greater emphasis on verticality.
It's important to note that papers written with mantras should be regarded as sacred texts. They cannot be used as mats under objects, nor should they be disposed of like regular paper. Instead, they must be respectfully burned, ideally at a temple. For this reason, I've kept every piece of calligraphy I've done so far.
Writing as a Meditation
Since the beginning of the class, my daily routine has included morning calligraphy practice, usually after my morning exercise. I light incense and set the goal of completing at least an A4-sized sheet. The act of inscribing words, particularly Buddhist mantras in the Rañjanā script, brings an unexpected sense of serenity.
It wasn't until a month into the calligraphy class that a distant memory from nearly a decade ago, during my postgraduate studies in London, resurfaced. During that time, I found myself deeply moved by the tranquility exuding from ancient Buddhist sculptures, prompting me a desire to enroll in a Tibetan or Sanskrit language class. Unfortunately, by the time I discovered this opportunity, the enrollment deadline had already passed. In the following year, I opted for Arabic instead.
Life, as it turns out, often comes full circle. Here I am, approximately a decade later, learning these languages through the art of calligraphy. While I may never achieve mastery in either of these languages, this journey enriches my journey into the world of arts and culture.
At the end of each class, Rinpoche Ugyen Tenzing would lead us in reciting scripture, a practice aimed at sharing the merit of our efforts — in inscribing sacred letters — with others. In that very same spirit, I’m concluding this article with a sense of gratitude for the rich cultural treasures of Himalaya’s calligraphic traditions. My hope is that these words may kindle a collective journey of discovery for all who’s reading this.
If you're interested in delving deeper into the different styles of Tibetan script, consider reading this article.