A book, written, conceptualised, and designed specifically for children more often than not contains within it a discovery that is more relevant for adults than for the intended “target” audience. Packed within less than 40 pages, Karma and the Snow Lion, for this reader, opened up a universe that the adult world either neglects or deliberately shies away from due to a sense of apprehension, which could be either misplaced or justified. These fears and reservations are related to “complicated” matters of cross-border situations, geopolitical tensions, or perhaps, social compunctions, and beyond.
Set against the picturesque snow-capped vastness of the Himalayas, Karma and the Snow Lion is an ode to memory, language, culture, heritage, and the quiet resilience of life in exile. Published by Niyogi Books, written by Jordan Quill – a PhD scholar specialising in Northern Indian, Tibetan, and Himalayan textiles, architecture and art – and beautifully, sensitively illustrated by thangka painters Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang, the story follows Karma, a young pashmina goat born in exile, as he journeys – literally and metaphorically – toward a homeland he has never seen.
Pashmina, the fabric, is the thread that binds this book together in the exploration of layered themes of cultural preservation, oral and written traditions, and the power of storytelling as a tool of resistance, remembrance, and resurrection or revival. It offers children (and grown-ups) a window into the world of the Changpa people, the significance of the pashmina trade, and the quiet power of food, language, and heritage. What makes it especially remarkable is the artistic vision behind it – traditional thangka painters adapting their sacred art form to bring Karma’s journey to life, marking a rare and powerful moment of innovation within custom.
In an interview with Scroll, the creators of Karma and the Snow Lion discuss the need to have curiosity about your past, to ask questions however discomfiting in order to build a bridge – between lands, generations, and across seemingly insurmountable barriers and divisions – that will eventually lead one from the heartbreak of disconnection to the enduring belief in shared skies. Since the illustrators do not speak English, the responses in the latter half of this interview were thoughtfully provided by Jordan Quill on their behalf.
“No matter how far away you live, we all look up at the same sky, and in that way, we are all connected. You will always be connected with Tibet.” This line beautifully captures the idea of longing and belonging. How did you approach writing about the deep connection to Tibet, a homeland that Karma and his family have never seen?
I approached writing about the deep connection between Tibet and Karma, the main character, and a homeland that he and his family had never seen, through my experience interacting with the Tibetan refugee community in McLeod Ganj and Dharamshala over the past seven years. In fact, the storyline was inspired by this. The heartbreaking truth of Tibet’s proximity to India and the Himalayan mountains means that Tibetans in exile in India today can see glimpses of their homeland but are unable to return. The idea that the sky is a means of connecting people throughout the world with places that they’re unable to go to is something that came out of the storyline of Karma and the snow lion flying over the Himalayas, the geographical barrier between India and Tibet. This storyline is also linked to the meaning of Karma’s name, “star” in Tibetan, where it is spelt the way it appears in the night sky in the book.
The book highlights the importance of passing down language through generations. What inspired you to make language preservation a central theme in Karma’s journey and how did your own ongoing doctoral research on textiles influence the narrative of the book?
The idea of language preservation is a central theme to the book because Tibetan is an endangered language today that’s being systematically threatened and targeted within occupied Tibet. The heartbreaking reality of Tibetans living in exile is that they have to operate in different languages and Tibetan becomes a language that is less used in their day-to-day lives. This means that it’s threatened even outside of Tibet, though there are significant efforts to preserve the Tibetan language within exile communities in India, especially. Then there’s the issue of being able to write and read in Tibetan and that’s why I wanted to bring the theme of learning to read and write into the storyline, to put forward the importance of learning these vital skills from previous generations.
The research that I’m doing at the moment for my PhD is about Indian textiles, specifically Mughal textiles, which has included quite a lot of research about pashminas and the pashmina fibre. I’ve been able to use some of this research into the pashmina fibre – how it ends up in Kashmir, and where it comes from originally – and turn it into a book that’s accessible for children. Making my research accessible is the most important thing for me, so I was really thrilled when Trisha Niyogi approached me and asked me to write a children’s book on a theme related to Indian textiles. I’ve also been studying Tibetan for a number of years as well as researching the arts of India, Tibet, and the Himalayan region, so my academic background is quite mixed and the story of the movement of the pashmina fibre combines all of these different aspects of years of research.
“Why do we eat momos?”
“We always have, Karma. It’s a food my mother made, and her mother before her. They learnt to make them when they lived in Tibet.”
Food often carries memory and heritage. What role do you think food plays in maintaining cultural identity, especially for those communities that have been either neglected in history or deliberately erased, as represented through this story?
Of course, food plays quite an important role in preserving cultural identity for communities that have been neglected in history or deliberately erased. Momos are the most easily recognisable food from Tibet and the Himalayas, especially in India, and it was this aspect of Tibetan culture that I wanted to bring into the storyline to make the story more relatable for an audience both in an Indian and global context today. The shape of the momo also contributes to the development of the storyline, relating its round shape to that of the full moon in the sky outside. The full moon holds special significance in the Tibetan calendar and the Tibetan yearly cycle, so I also wanted to make this the night that Karma had his magical experience with the snow lion in Tibet.
The Changpa have passed down their knowledge of pashmina for generations, not through written records, but through storytelling.
How important was it for you to showcase oral traditions in Karma and the Snow Lion? What drew you to storytelling as a means of cultural preservation?
Oral traditions are an important part of cultural preservation, especially within nomadic communities such as the Changpa, who are semi-nomadic. However, this is a small part of the story whose focus is instead on learning a written language and showcasing the written traditions of the Tibetan language as a means of cultural preservation. It was important for me that even though this is a children’s story book, the facts were accurate and that the reader could learn something through the story.
The Snow Lion tells Karma, “I am one of the snow lions that protects the mountains that surround Tibet.”
What was the significance of choosing the Snow Lion, a powerful yet mythical figure, almost like a custodian and guardian of Tibetan history and culture, as Karma’s guide on his journey of self-discovery?
The snow lion has a long and important history in Tibetan iconography and art, and it is even found on the Tibetan national flag (now banned in occupied Tibet). It is associated with protecting Tibet, the “Land of Snows”, which is encircled by a ring of snow mountains. So yes, the reason I chose the snow lion was to embody a figure of a custodian and guardian of Tibetan history and culture that was able to teach Karma about his history and also to connect him with the land of his ancestors, which he had not yet seen. This is the situation of many Tibetan children, born in exile, who have never been able to visit their own country.
The book celebrates the resilience of the Changpa people. How does Karma’s story reflect the challenges and strengths of real-life communities that continue to sustain these traditions?
Karma’s story is more related to the discovery of his history and heritage rather than a direct relation to the strengths and challenges of real-life communities that sustain their traditions within the Changthang today.
Migration and trade have shaped the history of pashmina. What aspects of movement and migration did you want to emphasise in the book?
The main aspect of movement and migration that I wanted to emphasise in the book was that the fibres that make what is called a “Kashmir shawl” actually come from the high-altitude environments of Tibet and parts of Ladakh. Even though the shawls are woven in Kashmir, from where they get their name, the fibres that make them have travelled long distances over snowy mountains. This is why they are so warm, because the hair comes from the pashmina goats that live in this freezing climate.
The connection between Tibet and Kashmir through the pashmina trade is central to the story. What do you hope young readers take away from this historical link?
I hope that young readers will take with them this idea of connection and also locate Tibet as the neighbour of India to its far north beyond the Himalayas. The idea of interconnectedness is a central theme in the teachings of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. The connection between Tibet, Ladakh, Kashmir, and wider India has lasted for many centuries, and has taken on a new intensity with the arrival of His Holiness and the first Tibetan refugees in 1959 after the illegal invasion and occupation of Tibet. Since shortly after it gained independence, His Holiness and many thousands of Tibetans continue to take refuge in India to this present day.
(For Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang) The book is the first children’s book illustrated by thangka painters. How did you adapt the traditional techniques of thangka painting to bring Karma’s world to life for young readers? Please share your own journey of discovering the art of thangka painting; what drew you to this art form, which is expressed through storytelling?
(Answered by Jordan Quill on behalf of Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang) In the art of thangka painting, the aim is not for artistic innovation but for the faithful representation of Buddhist gods, goddesses or bodhisattvas using the exact measurements and proportions laid out in sacred scriptures. Therefore, when I asked the thangka painters if they would be interested in illustrating a children’s book, they were hesitant as they were unsure about drawing the designs and painting them, something outside of what they were normally comfortable doing. In order to draw the designs, I first had to map them out using a storyboard and rough sketches of what I had in mind. We then visited another artist who had done this kind of work in the past and he was able to draw the outlines for the thangka painters to fill in with colour. It then took around one month for the paintings to be completed by the thangka painters and their families.
(For Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang) Tashi means “auspicious,” and Delek means “happiness” or “goodness.”
The book introduces young readers to Tibetan words and phrases. Did you incorporate any specific artistic symbols or motifs that carry similar cultural meanings?
Yes, there are a number of different artistic symbols that are incorporated into the illustrations of the book. For example, the door curtain Karma pulls back to enter his house has the eight Tibetan auspicious symbols on it, something that most Tibetans have in their homes. We also designed the interiors to reflect those of Tibetan communities in India, particularly on the Indo-Tibet border, with the inclusion of things such as Tibetan tables, stoves with Tibetan-style patterns on them, and Tibetan carpets. When Karma travels in the Himalayas and on the Tibetan plateau, we also see other features of Tibetan visual culture such as stupas, prayer flags, and mani stones, which have been painted with the powerful six-syllable mantra of Avalokiteshvara, Om mani padme hum.
(For Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang) The Snow Lion appears in a dream, its presence both mystical and protective.
How did you approach illustrating the Snow Lion? What elements of traditional Buddhist art influenced your portrayal of this mythical figure?
The portrayal of the snow lion was one of the most straightforward aspects of the paintings done by the thangka painters for this book, as it is a motif that also appears in traditional thangka painting. However, its pose was adapted in several cases to fit the narrative of the storyline.
(For Mitthu and Sonam Lama Tamang) Thangka painting has a long and sacred tradition. How has it evolved over the years, and how widely known is it today?
Thangka painting as an art form actually originated in India and came to Tibet with Buddhism, where it was adopted, adapted, and absorbed into local traditions and iconographies. Much like the rest of Tibetan culture within Tibet, it is now preserved most faithfully within institutions established in exile and by artists who are able to practise freely outside of their occupied homeland. The thangka painters who illustrated Karma and the Snow Lion are Tamang, who originate from Nepal and speak a Tibeto-Burman language that shares much of its vocabulary with Tibetan. They are Tibetan Buddhists and regularly attend the teachings of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama in McLeod Ganj, Dharamshala. They have been painting thangka paintings for many generations. The development of the art form itself has been the subject of numerous academic studies and incorporates a centuries-long tradition and history that continues to this present day.
