By Bikash Deshar, Principal, Tergar School Kathmandu
When I look back at the moment, I came across the vacancy announcement for the post of Principal at Tergar School Kathmandu, I remember being at a personal crossroads. I was navigating a period of emotional transition, shifting jobs, and earnestly searching for my true calling. As soon as I saw the announcement, something stirred in me. It felt like more than a coincidence—it felt like a calling. I didn’t know if I would be selected, but that didn’t stop me. I applied the same day, driven by a quiet certainty and a deep hope that this was meant to be.
That was over a year and a half ago. Since then, my journey with Tergar School Kathmandu has been nothing short of transformative. It hasn’t just been a job—it’s been a deeply meaningful experience that continues to reshape me every day.
So, what makes Tergar School Kathmandu special? Is it the fact that it’s a monastic school? Or that it’s an all-boys institution? There are countless schools across Nepal that share these characteristics. So why does this school feel so different?
The answer, I believe, lies not in what we are on the surface—but in how we see education and how we live it. Tergar School is the vision of His Eminence Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, and at its heart is a simple but profound goal: to nurture kind, resilient human beings who embody their innate basic goodness, awareness, love, compassion, wisdom, and joy. This is not just philosophy; it is the foundation upon which the school is built.
Our curriculum integrates ancient Buddhist wisdom, view, meditation, and application, with contemporary subjects like science, mathematics, social studies, languages, and the arts. We are a pilot school in this vision, and we are already witnessing the quiet, powerful waves of change it brings.
Tergar School Kathmandu is a free school, an opportunity, a sanctuary, and a hope for children from remote and often marginalized regions like the valleys of Manaslu and beyond. We currently have 82 students, all young monks from vulnerable backgrounds. These boys come from different ethnic backgrounds and have unique stories. Yet here, they live together as one big Sangha family.
There’s a common perception that monks are serene, respectful, and easy to teach. But our boys are just like any others: curious, energetic, sometimes challenging, and full of life. Some days, they test your patience. Other days, they light up your heart with their smiles and innocence. Despite everything, the school vibrates with joy, energy, and engagement. Here, you’ll find boys who aren’t afraid to ask questions, who are constantly creating, exploring, and seeking.
A question we’re often asked is, “How often do students meditate? Does it change them?” These are fair questions, and the honest answer is: we’re still learning. We are a work in progress—as are our students. Meditation at our school follows Rinpoche’s approach of “short time, many times.” For our youngest boys, it might be one minute. For others, five. It’s not about duration, but consistency. We also incorporate mindful games, fun, accessible practices that make meditation approachable and enjoyable.
And yes, even with regular meditation, our students still argue, get frustrated, and act out. That’s okay. They’re growing, just like children everywhere. We don’t expect perfection. We are sowing seeds of stillness, of awareness, of compassion. Some will sprout tomorrow. Others, years later. But they’re there.
Meditation is just one part of our larger mission. We are helping students recognize their own intrinsic worth. In our classrooms, you might see calming meditations during math lessons or the Buddhist principles of listening, reflecting, and contemplating integrated into science discussions. You might hear reflections on awareness and compassion during circle time or see students exploring what makes them happy through data collection and storytelling.
At its core, Tergar School Kathmandu is not just an educational institution: it is a living space of possibility. A place where ancient and modern wisdom meets. A place where education is not only about preparing students for exams, but for life.
If you visit, you might be struck by the joy, the questions, the laughter, and the quiet moments of stillness. You might walk away, like I do, feeling that this is more than a school. It is a movement. A prayer. A promise.
And for me, it is home.
