Ron Bhasin

First Impressions of Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche

I first learned about Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche when I met Togden Achoo Rinpoche for the second time in Tashi Jong around 11 June 2019. Dubju was Achoo Rinpoche’s attendant at that time. You can read about my first meeting with Achoo Rinpoche here.

After the meeting with Achoo Rinpoche, Dubju told me about Choegyal Rinpoche, who lived nearby in Gopalpur. Dubju said that Choegyal Rinpoche spoke excellent English and had very few disciples. I should try to meet him.

Choegyal Rinpoche remained inscribed on a small paper for the next few years. I wanted to meet him, but couldn’t go to Gopalpur. I inquired about him from Dubju; he was always far away in Nepal or Europe.

I searched for him on the Internet but couldn’t find anything conclusive. He was featured once on the cover of National Geographic, as a part of a scientific study that declared him “the happiest man alive.” A title shared by two other lamas, including Matthieu Ricard and Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche. He was a painter with a minimal digital footprint compared to other lamas of his generation.

Once while staying in Dongyu Gatsal Ling, Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo’s nunnery in Padhiarkar village, near Baijnath, I noticed a pencil sketch of a Lhasa Apso in the living room cum dining hall of Tara Guesthouse at DGL. I climbed over the cane lounge chair to better understand the sketch. The mere act of viewing the sketch threw me into awareness. I was stunned. Choegyal Rinpoche made the sketch.

Then, while listening to Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo’s Cave in the Snow audiobook, I heard not-too-good comments about a young ‘neurotic’ Choegyal Rinpoche who shared the same master as Jetsunma, the enigmatic and magnificent 8th Khamtrul Rinpoche.

Later, I met Tenzin Palmo and asked about her book’s mildly disparaging comments about Choegyal Rinpoche. She brushed it off, saying that, at the time, both of them were young. I added that years and years of Dharma practice also change you. I had no idea what I was talking about at the time until I met Rinpoche. She agreed with me.

I enquired more about Rinpoche and told her I fancied him as my teacher. She remarked that he was like Will-o’-the-Wisp. It was hard to get hold of him. He was here this moment, and the next moment, he was gone.

A year or two, or maybe more, passed. Constantly distracted, I lost track of time and perhaps even my desire to meet Rinpoche. However, I would still message Dubju occasionally to ask about Rinpoche and if he was around.

Before meeting Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche in New Delhi, India

Part 1 – Reaching Delhi

On 12th September 2023, I arrived in Delhi once again. This time, I came with my sister to find her a house to rent. It was daunting because my sister is among the most challenging people I know.

Looking back on my life, I can see many difficult people I had to deal with early on. My sister was one of them.

I arranged for my sister to stay with I’s mom J, who was alone at her place. I was in Sirhind, and her sister was in the UK. The short time from the train to the train station to the cab was filled with strife. My sister even locked horns with the cab driver.

The cab driver was a Sikh guy who resisted my sister’s aggression. He even indirectly told her he would cancel the Uber and leave her stranded with the luggage. Like a classic textbook bully, she softened when she sensed this was not the guy to mess with.

My sister wanted to stay near the Blue Line because her friend was in Karol Bagh. Her friend had suggested an area where she should look for flats to rent.

The cabbie was on a call with his friends the whole time. He was planning to go to Kashmir and was instructing one of his friends how to behave and what to do. He seemed to enjoy a high status among his friend circle.

When he heard about the area where we would search for flats, he advised us against that. He told us we should go to DLF Capital Greens in Moti Nagar, which has the only high-rise apartments in West Delhi and the only place worth living.

After lunch and a conversation with Inderjeet’s mom, we reached the area my sister’s friend had suggested after lunch, and it turned out to be a proper hellhole.

After getting burnt in the sun and wasting a good one and a half hours on Olx, I searched the area the driver suggested and found a property dealer’s number. I also got an e-rickshaw driver who agreed to drop us off at DLF Capital Greens cheaply. We arrived at the gate, and by then, the property dealer had pulled up a gate pass for us.

Long story short: We rented a house for my sister the same day. By the end of the evening, she began to quarrel with me, as was her habit.

I also got angry and decided it would be best to leave her. I told her that I was going to leave her, and she began to scream and threaten me.

As I walked out, she yelled that she knew all about me and had read everything. I walked away nonchalantly as if I had nothing to lose. Some people are obnoxious; I am not a saint big enough to deal with them.

Part 2 – Staying with A & R at Malviya Nagar

I took an e-rick after parting ways with my sister. Adrenaline was still shooting in my veins after the heated encounter. There was a cute girl in the same e-rick, and she was singing in the traffic. Despite almost shaking with rage, I mustered a cold approach, and we followed each other on Instagram.

I spent two nights with my friend A and her boyfriend in Malviya Nagar, after which A kicked me out.

It was not the first time that she had kicked me out. She frequently tended to be super chaotic and moody. I didn’t push back and told her I would move out immediately.

Luckily, at that time, I was on good terms with P, my new friend I had made in Chandigarh, and she had already booked me a place in RBI’s Visiting Officers’ Flats.

I had a good bond with A’s boyfriend and introduced him to Pourover during my stay there. I also left him one of my cloth filters and ordered a size 2 Hario before I went on the afternoon of 15 September 2024. We also had one too many cups of coffee before I left.

(I liked him in 2024, but in 2025, he pulled some of the worst schticks one could draw on a friend.)

When I checked in at VOF, I was a little bit nervous, as one is when encountering bureaucratic enclaves. However, everything went smoothly.

I was still reeling over my ex, T, and I had a date with her the same day.

I planned to take her to the Pyramid Meditation Centre in Safdarjung, a place I often visited 5-6 years back. However, I got lost and took her to some abandoned rooftop instead.

Google Maps came to the rescue, and we entered the neat, clean pyramid building. I told her to install the Vipassana app, and we synced and pressed start together for an hour-long sitting.

The sitting was good and I think both of us had a good session, however I still felt jittery from the excessive coffee I had consumed throughout the day.

After the session, I took her to Got Tea, a Boba tea café in Safdarjung. We sat in the Japanese-style section and made small talk. She wondered how I knew so many good places in the city.

I was still not over her. However, as I saw her in the flesh, the chasm that had taken hold of me so severely broke. I saw her as a human with all her faults, not a perfect apparition.

We were sitting close, and she still looked as pretty as ever, yet something had changed. Her hair slid over her ear, and I touched and slid it behind again. She resisted my touch and turned her face away.

I had my tiny, recently serviced Olympus XA2 with me and took a few photos of her. She also took a picture of me. All of them turned out to be pretty.

After tea, we sat on the footpath as she smoked. Kids were skateboarding past us, and there was a lot of commotion in the street. I was highly anxious because of the coffee.

She wanted to go to a place like Potbelly in Shahpur Jat, where we had gone for the first time when we met in Delhi. However, the food in Potbelly was heavy, and she wanted to eat something light.

I wanted to return to the VOF with her, order something nice from Swiggy, and watch a movie, perhaps. I told her that, but she refused.

We decided to part ways, and I came back to the VOF.

Part 3 – At the VOF

The VOF was quite luxurious. The bed sheets were clean, the rooms were spacious, and the meals at the mess were wholesome and unbelievably cheap.

Finally alone, and in the sedating jaws of pleasure, I tried to sink as low as I could.

I had a very disturbing sleep on 17th September 2023. Then, at night, Dubju sent me some voice notes, telling me that Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche was in Majnu Ka Tila and that I could go and meet him.

I was overjoyed; this Delhi trip would finally be helpful. I was leaving the next day for Chandigarh, so I was happy.

At the VOF, I installed Hulu on the TV in the room and watched at least three movies. One was The Love Witch by Anna Biller, which I adored.

The other was a surrealist movie whose name I can’t recall now, but it featured a blonde with curly hair running away from some creeps and stumbling upon a community of another set of creeps on a Greek island. The movie was thoroughly shitty.

Meeting Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche

Earlier that night, I spent much of my time figuring out which Guesthouse Rinpoche la was staying in in Majnu ka Tila by deciphering Dubju’s voice notes, a classic case of lost-in-translation or Chinese whispers. I tried finding Gaaden Shartse on Google Maps.

Luckily, I figured it out before I reached my wit’s end.

The next day, I booked a Rapido in the morning and was on my way. My driver and I got stuck in traffic when we reached MKT. A political procession was passing by. I paid him and walked the rest of the 200 metres.

I found the guesthouse, asked the waiters about Rinpoche, and a lady led me to a room.

I was ushered in, and finally, I was in his presence. The room was quite messy, and there was a mess on the bed, too. Many objects were scattered everywhere, including quite a few packets of Dr. Dolkar’s meds. It seemed Rinpoche had a habit of taking a sketch pen, writing, and drawing on things.

I can’t recall Rinpoche’s face or features now, but he was pretty old, probably in his early 80s. He had an old Nokia-type phone that rang twice while I was there.

I sat in front of Rinpoche, unsure what to do now. I think I had prepared a list of questions to ask him. The top on the list was obviously to take me as a student.

So, I told him boldly that I wanted to practice the Dharma.

He asked me, Why?

I had no answer.

First, I wasn’t prepared to be asked this question. I have listened to my fair share of Dharma talks, and like a good little parrot, I can recite them for hours on end without embodying them.

I stumbled, “Because I am suffering, Rinpoche.”

“But everybody’s suffering. So what?”

“I have diabetes, Rinpoche. I might not live long.”

“So what? Many monks have diabetes. They live up to 90 years old.” He continued, “Why do you want to practice Dharma?”

I didn’t have a clear answer.

He kept asking me why, to whatever I answered.

I mumbled something.

He asked me, “Why?”. I kept on giving wrong answers as I didn’t know the right answer.

And suddenly, the veil of ignorance was lifted, and I experienced tremendous space. It was a powerful moment.

That’s when it hit me how realised Rinpoche was.

His mere act of asking me a question shifted my reality and made me experience ultimate freedom.

“The answer is Bodhicitta.” He continued, “Bodhicitta is the reason we practice Dharma.”

That’s when the importance of Bodhicitta struck me. I was a spiritual bypasser. Eager to receive the highest and most profound teachings, I was ignoring the basics.

Habituated to thinking outside the box, I was forgetting to think in the box.

Only once before Rinpoche had someone stressed Bodhicitta as much as Rinpoche, which was C__ la; she had described Bodhicitta as the essence of enlightenment while we were out for dinner at Snow Lion in McLeodganj. Her nephew and her best friend were also at the table.

As always, I was making stupid small talk with Rinpoche. I was telling him about the Sanskrit word kalyanmitra. He told me that when he came to India from Tibet, he realised that when he went to a restaurant, if you spoke Hindi, no one respected you. So instead, he picked up English.

Then he got a call, and while he talked on the phone, in the characteristic manner of an octogenarian, I sympathised with his old age. When he got off the call, he said, “Yeah, old age.” It became clear to me that he had read my thoughts. I also had thought vaguely about taking a photo, but hadn’t thought clearly. At the same moment, he forbade me from taking any photo whatsoever.

Rinpoche struck me as someone who was not very articulate or quick-witted in conversation, but his immense realisation couldn’t be hidden even when he kept a very low profile.

After Meeting Drugu Choegyal Rinpoche

I returned to the VOF to pick up my luggage and check out.

Before leaving, I had mentally debated whether I should take my luggage with me or leave it there and come back for it.

I took my luggage, paid the mess bill, and checked out.

I reached Kashmiri Gate, and I boarded the bus. The bus tyre burst on the way, and many of us had freshly squeezed orange juice on the highway from the stall next to the bus.