The female Buddha and her Gen X satsang

Ani Choying Drolma laughs, somewhat apprehensively, when I ask for the meaning of her name. Ani is an honorific for nun, she explains, while the rest of her name alludes to "space of all phenomena" and the "female Buddha". It can be quite a task, living up to a name so resounding, but Ani seems to be doing just fine.

For over two decades, this Buddhist nun from Nepal's Nagi Gompa monastery has been engaged in creation of music and performances. She has worked towards introducing her music, distinct for its under-represented melody influenced by mantras, and her own haunting vocals, to the modern music-enthusiasts through tours and recordings. Her collaborations with artists such as AR Rahman, Farah Siraj (Zariya, Coke Studio, Season 3), Steve Tibbetts and Shantanu Moitra are only some of the departures that Ani has made from the single-focus life that spiritual aspirants are expected to lead.

The 45-year-old insists that she'd never expected this. Ani agrees that she's received more than she's renounced in life. This "receiving" may be of an evolving spiritual awareness, music, or just friends like Moitra, whose companionship now extends beyond the primary connection of art. The point is that somehow a little girl, who had escaped an abusive father and sought refuge in a monastic life, is now a musician-nun, who wields sound as a "beautiful tool". Ani has come a long way on a novel path.

Even more novel is the humility with which she recognises her journey. "I did not enter the monastery with a higher cause in mind, it was just an escape. But somewhere along the line, I learnt more about the choice I had already made," recalls the woman, who was "rhythmic" even as a child. At the monastery, Ani learnt music from her spiritual father Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche. "I learnt how powerful human compassion can be," Ani says, as if music and compassion were two interchangeable forces.

So when she weaves ancient mantras into soulful songs (Om Tare Tuttare, Om Mani Padme Hum), is she trying to heal? "I'm just in a state of connection with myself, free of hope and fear, the purest, most natural state of the human mind. The songs are not designed to heal, but the aspiration behind them is to cause people happiness," she says.

Her beliefs, as she lays them out, are a strange assortment of simple and powerful. Ani believes certain syllables evoke certain energies and she hopes that the vibrations generated from her music will serve those they reach.

The frequent repetition of words, she says, is to facilitate a state of mind where one is not distracted by the tiring whirlwind of daily emotions. When asked, Ani agrees to call her creation "World Music". Like popular Ayurvedic products that pack centuries of wisdom in a modern, globally consumable form, she's only changed the "packaging, not the content".

I ask her if this content, with its non-mainstream roots and easily-romanticised theme, has any real chance of being comprehended by an audience. "My songs are more spiritual than religious, and language is never a hurdle if the music is from the heart," she responds. She must be right, because her songs, with evocative names such as Song of Realisation or Tara Mantra, have found huge resonance in Europe and China.

Ani is quick to draw a witty, religious parallel for her concerts. "Think of it as a modern satsang," she suggests. "Isn't that what we do at satsangs? Free our hearts of frustrations, and connect? There you pay dakshina, here, you pay for the ticket. But in this one, you can pay online," she chuckles.

Sensing her faith in all things big and small, but not quite comprehending it, I ask her if her life resembles a particular song. Phool ko Ankhama, she answers, taking care to spell out the syllables for me.
In the eyes of a flower, the world appears as flower/

In the eyes of a thorn, the world appears as a thorn /

Reflection takes place, according to the shape of the object...