[Fifty years ago today, Chögyam Trungpa made his last entry in the diary he kept of his escape from Tibet. On this day, he took his first plane ride, which carried him into the heart of India. His journey to the West had begun. He was never to see Tibet again.]
In the morning, an official came and read out a list of our names. He told us we would be given priority on the next plane. . . . This, our first flight, was a strange new experience, skimming over cloud covered mountains, seeing far below us the small villages and footpaths leading up to them; only by the moving shadow of the plane on the ground could we gauge how fast we were traveling. We thought about the teaching of impermanence; this was a complete severance of all that had been Tibet, and we were traveling by mechanized transport. As the moments passed, the mountain range was left behind, and the view changed to the misty space of the Indian plains stretching out in front of us.
From "Across the Himalaya," page 248 in Born in Tibet.