Inside Buddha Purnima at Majnu Ka Tila: Delhi’s Quiet Celebration of Peace and Identity

On the banks of the Yamuna, nestled just off Delhi's GT Road, Majnu ka Tila bursts with prayer flags, momos, and memory. Yet on Buddha Purnima, this Tibetan refugee colony transforms into something more serene and luminous. This year, as the first full moon of the Hindu month of Vaisakh rose into the dusty Delhi sky, the narrow lanes were illuminated—not merely with lanterns, but with profound reverence.

Buddha Purnima, marking the birth, enlightenment, and death of Gautama Buddha, is observed devoutly across the Buddhist world. In India's capital, celebrations typically centre around traditional sites like monasteries and prayer locations such as the stupa in Indraprastha Park. But in Majnu ka Tila, the festival is less spectacle, more soul.

It's Not Just Ritual, It's Resistance

As we enter the colony the day before the festival, tents stand prepared for prayers in the monastery square, with volunteers bustling about, placing prayer candles, beads and various items in their proper positions.

Buddha Purnima begins early here. As shops selling thangka paintings and Lhasa-imported jumpers close for the day, the monastery—Karma Drubgyu Thargay Ling—becomes the colony's beating heart.

Tsering Dolkar, a second-generation Tibetan resident and youth volunteer, explains whilst painting amidst words, holding a sack of incense sticks: "For us, this day is not just religious. Its identity. To chant the Om Mani Padme Hum together is to remind ourselves of who we are, far from our homeland."

Around her, children gather near the prayer wheels, giggling and lighting incense. Elderly women murmur mantras, their fingers deftly twirling prayer beads. Incense smoke curls into the heat as monks in saffron and burgundy walk the colony's lanes, blessing shops and homes. This familiar sight in Majnu ka Tila's monastery square will grow even grander tomorrow, with hundreds gathering in shared devotion.

For many residents, Buddha Purnima intertwines deeply with the Tibetan struggle for cultural survival. The community was established in the 1960s by Tibetan refugees fleeing Chinese occupation. Over the decades, the colony has evolved into a vibrant microcosm of Lhasa in exile. On this sacred day, political memory blends seamlessly with spiritual practice.

"Our parents taught us never to forget the Dalai Lama's teachings," says Dolkar. "Buddha's path is peace, but our peace is born of remembering."

A Different Kind of Pilgrimage

Unlike the grand processions seen in cities like Sarnath or Bodh Gaya, celebrations here are more contained—but no less moving. Visitors—mostly Delhiites drawn by curiosity or tranquillity—begin arriving by noon.

They're greeted at the entrance by people serving refreshments in paper cups, amidst banners in Tibetan, Hindi and English announcing the celebration.

Mira Banerjee, a literature student from North Campus, shares, "I come every year just to walk here on Buddha Purnima. It's the only time Delhi feels... kind. There's a gentleness in the air."

She's right. Despite the activity, there's a stillness to the colony today. Shops offer sweetened Tibetan tea and small servings of khapse (deep-fried biscuits) to visitors. Handwritten placards outside bookshops display Buddha's quotes in English, Hindi, and Tibetan.

By late afternoon, a special puja takes place at the monastery. Inside the ornately painted prayer hall, rows of butter lamps flicker before an enormous Buddha statue. Young monks chant in low, resonant waves. Tourists sit cross-legged alongside locals, absorbing the moment.

Central to the ceremony is an offering of tsampa, chang (barley beer), and fresh fruit—symbolising nourishment in all forms.

"Our celebrations are humble," says monk Nyima Tenzin, who grew up in Dharamshala before moving to Delhi. "But the humility is the point. Buddha was born under a tree, not in a palace. The light of awareness asks only for sincerity."

What the City Learns from the Colony

Majnu ka Tila is often romanticised as a "hidden gem," a tourist stopover for food and fashion. But during Buddha Purnima, its spiritual core is revealed. The colony offers Delhi a moment of pause—an invitation to decentre speed and ego.

Anand Chauhan, an interfaith studies student at Jamia Millia Islamia, notes, "The colony exemplifies diasporic resilience. On Buddha Purnima, what you witness isn't just Buddhist devotion, but a practice of living mindfully in exile. It's something the rest of the city, always rushing and distracted, could learn from."

That mindfulness manifests not only in prayer but in how the community carries itself—with grace, grit, and collective purpose. Buddha Purnima becomes, in a way, a public expression of inner peace.

As midnight approaches, celebrations wind down. The monastery doors remain open throughout the night for silent meditation. Some linger on benches near the prayer wheels, speaking softly in Tibetan and Hindi. Others take a final stroll through the lanes, faintly lit by butter lamps.

Back at her stall selling silver amulets and traditional scarves, Tsering Dolkar completes her preparation for the significant day ahead. "It's not about attendance numbers or lantern beauty. It's about whether we felt the Buddha within. That's what our elders always told us."

In a city that never ceases expanding, erasing, and replacing, Majnu ka Tila, on Buddha Purnima, becomes a sanctuary. Not just for Buddhists, but for anyone seeking stillness. A colony, a community, a quiet call to remember.