Created in 2026 to mark Tibetan Uprising Day (10 March), this mural commemorates the 1959 uprising in Lhasa — an event that led to the Dalai Lama’s escape to India and the beginning of the Tibetan exile community.
The artwork was created by artists Lobsang Soepa, Tenzin Olden, and Tenzin Tselha, bringing together illustration, portraiture, and street art. Together, the mural reflects on the legacy of Tibetan non-violent resistance and the fragmented memory of March 10.
Located in the heart of the Tibetan settlement of Majnu-ka-Tilla, the mural places this history directly into the everyday life of the neighbourhood — among shops, visitors, and schoolchildren — creating a visible reminder of Tibetan history, identity, and resilience.
The project is presented by Khadhok – Tibetan Artists’ Collective, in collaboration with Students for a Free Tibet (SFT) Delhi, and supported by the International Campaign for Tibet (ICT).
The wall does not separate itself from the life around it. In the same air that carries the steam of momos and laphing, something else lingers.
On 10 March 1959, thousands of Tibetans gathered in Lhasa to protect the Dalai Lama and resist Chinese control. What followed was met with force, and the uprising was crushed. Many fled. Many did not. Nothing returned to what it had been.
From that moment on, Tibetan resistance carried a different weight — shaped by exile, by loss, and by endurance. History does not sit behind us. It shapes how resistance is understood: to endure without becoming what it opposed. This understanding did not fade. It appeared in art, in poems, in voices, and in protest.
Within this line of thought, the mural sits.
It sits here because you are here. You are not neutral in front of it. None of us are.
There is comfort in believing that history is sealed — safely distant. But this neighbourhood exists because of that history. The food, the language, the community — none of it is detached from 1959.
Here, the figures do not dissolve into anonymity. Each occupies space. Each asks to be seen. And for a brief moment, you occupy that space with them. These figures do not belong only to the past. It returns again and again — wherever people gather to stand their ground and refuse silence.
Held within the red. A fire that lives in the body, and a fire that has left bodies behind. The colour moves through the scene quietly, carrying the memory of burning.
And yet, within that same field, something else appears.
A white lotus, then another. It passes through the crowd almost gently, resting in hand after hand. It does not interrupt the red. It does not erase it. Both remain. The flower sits within a tradition of resistance shaped by non-violence. Present even when the body is charged with anger, even when the history around it burns.
In the hands of the children, the flower settles differently. What rests there is no longer only restraint, but hope.
The wall cannot move toward you. It cannot be argued. It cannot clarify itself. It can only remain. What happens after that belongs to you.
A mural. A protest.
Lobsang Soepa (Insta: @lopsangsoepa)
Lobsang Soepa is a comic artist and illustrator based in India, working to preserve Tibetan and Himalayan folk tales through contemporary visual storytelling. His debut comic, Khando Drowa Sangmo – A Tale from the Land of Mon Tawang, received an overwhelming response and established his voice within Himalayan graphic storytelling. Building on this success, he is currently working on his next comic on the story of “Gyasa Belsa”. While mostly busy with his digital comics, he tries to find some breathing space and work on mural projects. One of his most accomplished murals was with St+rt India in collaboration with Asian Paints.
Tenzin Olden (Insta: @tenzin_olden)
Tenzin Olden is a Leh Ladakh-based artist whose work explores the intricate intersections of culture and identity. Specialising in portraiture, Tenzin captures the nuances of human life and personal thoughts lost in the surreal landscapes, working mostly with Acrylic and watercolours.
Tenzin Tselha (Insta: @im.tselhagd_)
My name is Tenzin Tselha, and I am a 24-year-old emerging artist. My practice primarily focuses on graffiti and lettering, where I explore different forms, colours, and textures. Rather than strictly planning every detail, I prefer a more intuitive approach, allowing my work to develop organically through mood, movement, and experimentation. I am drawn to creating art that feels expressive, fluid, and open to interpretation, inviting viewers to connect with it in their own way.
For centuries Tibet existed as a distinct cultural and political society centred on Tibetan Buddhism, language, and institutions. In 1950, the People’s Republic of China sent troops into Tibet and gradually consolidated control over the region.
Rising tensions between Tibetans and Chinese authorities culminated on March 10, 1959, when thousands of Tibetans gathered in Lhasa to protect the 14th Dalai Lama, fearing he would be detained by Chinese forces. The gathering quickly turned into a mass uprising against Chinese rule. The protests were violently suppressed, and within weeks the Dalai Lama fled to India, where he was granted asylum.
His escape marked the beginning of the Tibetan exile community, as tens of thousands of Tibetans followed him across the Himalayas. Today, large Tibetan communities exist across India, including here in Majnu-ka-Tilla.
March 10 has since become the most important political day in the Tibetan calendar. Each year, Tibetans across the world commemorate the uprising and call attention to the ongoing struggle for cultural, religious, and political rights inside Tibet.
The Great Uprising of March 10th 1959 is regarded as the symbol of Tibet’s national resistance to Chinese military occupation.
The event that set off the Uprising began in the early morning of March 10, 1959. Around 30,000 Tibetans—including monks and nuns—gathered outside Norbulingka Palace in Lhasa, where the Dalai Lama was staying. Days earlier, Chinese authorities had invited the Dalai Lama to attend a cultural performance at the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) headquarters and was asked to come unescorted. Fearing he would be detained and taken to China, the crowd assembled to prevent him from leaving. What began as a protective gathering quickly transformed into a mass political uprising. Protests soon spread across the city, including areas near the Potala Palace. The uprising was met with military force, leading to widespread casualties and the Dalai Lama’s exile in India.
Tensions escalated over the following days. Between 10,000 and 15,000 Tibetan women organised their own demonstrations in Lhasa on March 12 and March 18, now commemorated as Tibetan Women’s Uprising Day.
On March 17, artillery shells reportedly landed near Norbulingka, intensifying fears for the Dalai Lama’s safety. That same night, disguised as a soldier and under the cover of darkness, he began his escape from Lhasa. After a perilous two-week journey across the Himalayas, he crossed into India on March 31, 1959, where he was granted asylum. Tens of thousands of Tibetans would follow into exile in the months and years that followed.
By March 20, full-scale fighting had erupted in Lhasa. The People’s Liberation Army moved decisively to suppress the uprising, shelling parts of the city, including areas surrounding Norbulingka and other key institutions. Casualty figures remain contested, but thousands of Tibetans are believed to have been killed during the crackdown and its aftermath.
In the years that followed, sweeping political and social changes were imposed across Tibet. Traditional governing structures were dismantled. Monasteries faced destruction, particularly during the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976), when religious institutions, texts, and cultural artifacts were systematically targeted. Large-scale arrests, imprisonments, and campaigns of political re-education reshaped Tibetan society.
Sixty-seven years later, the day continues to burn with the same rage and passion—a fire that has not receded into history. It lives in the enduring struggle for freedom, and in the simple yet profound demand to remain fully and unapologetically Tibetan.