In a Tibetan monastery, monks sit together in stillness, devoting their time to the Circle of Impermanence. Their hands move gently, placing coloured grains of sand in delicate patterns. The mandala grows slowly like a universe of prayers, like a symbol of beauty and devotion.
This mandala is not just sand in patterns, it is colour in meaning. White speaks of openness, green of balance, yellow of humility, red of strength, and blue of wisdom. Each colour belongs to one of the Five Buddha Families, a reminder that enlightenment has many paths.
Days of effort go into creating it. And then, with one sweep, it is gone. The sand used in the mandala designs are often collected from rivers, blessed in prayer, and then returned to flowing water after the design is destroyed, carrying the blessings back into the world.
Buddhist monks smile. For the mandala is not meant to last, but meant to mean something more beyond that. It teaches them, and us, that everything is fleeting, everything is momentary. Joy, sorrow, success, pain. What stays behind is the love and intent we put into it, and in the world. Mandala wall at Kashkan carries that spirit. It stands as a reminder that beauty is not only in what we see, but in what we feel, and life is all about mastering the art of letting go.