A monk sits at a table writing names in Tibetan script. At a stall, a young woman in a traditional chupa asks visitors to write messages for Tibet. Nearby, a 72-year-old woman, who came to India as a refugee when she was three years old, knots threads into a carpet.At the India International Centre’s (IIC) Kamala Devi Centre, the three-day Spirit of Tibet festival, which ends on Saturday, is as much about preserving a culture and its history as it is about celebrating them.At the inauguration, Sikyong Penpa Tsering, head of the Central Tibetan Administration, spoke about Tibet’s cultural and spiritual ties with India and the need to preserve them. Referring to China’s Law on Promoting Ethnic Unity and Progress, implemented on July 1, he said it was part of efforts to “eradicate the identity of the people”.A day later, Tibetan activist Lobga Rangzen (52) died after self-immolating outside the United Nations headquarters in New York in protest against the law. According to the International Campaign for Tibet, more than 170 Tibetans have self-immolated over the years, most of them dying.At a stall run by the Voluntary Tibet Advocacy Group (V-TAG) at IIC – largely organised by the Tibetan youth – visitors can write a message for the world about Tibet. One wall carries the names of Tibetans who have self-immolated. Another has pictures of three Tibetans who, the group says, were silenced by the Chinese government.“We don’t want them forgotten,” says 18-year-old Sonam, wearing the traditional chupa, who recently began volunteering with the group.The festival is not only about the history and the politics. With the tagline ‘Celebrating Culture and Compassion’ — the festival’s focus is also on the many ways in which Tibetan culture is being kept alive.Story continues below this adFor Ven Karma Wangdak, a Tibetan monk demonstrating 119 Tibetan scripts at the festival, writing itself is an act of keeping the culture alive. “The words of Lord Buddha, from thousands of years ago, are preserved to this day in written form. The script is carrying forward our culture,” he says.Every piece of paper is treated with care here. Pages on which mistakes are made are kept aside and later burned rather than thrown away. “We never trash them because we hold the script in very high regard,” Wangdak says.Also Read | Hope to live, serve Tibetan beings for 30-40 years more: Dalai LamaNearby, visitors sit beside the calligraphers and ask them to write their names in Tibetan. Wangdak knows six scripts, while another calligrapher, Ven Nyima Phuntso, knows eight. Phuntso shows visitors how the script was written before paper, using flour spread over a wooden board.The room is part of an exhibition by Khadhok, a Tibetan artists’ collective. The walls carry works ranging from oil paintings by Tenpa Darchuk to satirical artworks by Cactus Tserma. A digital game made by Singapore-based siblings Tsering Choden and Ngawang teaches visitors Tibetan words for food, clothes and various other items.Story continues below this ad“We have been collaborating with a lot of young artists, who involve their everyday slang in the artworks as well,” says Khadhok co-founder Lea Taake.In the next room, graduates of the Norbulingka Institute work quietly on traditional crafts. Tenzing Kunga, a wood carver for more than six years, works on a wooden piece combining the eight auspicious symbols Tibetan Buddhism – symbols of good fortune – into one.Across from him, painter Sonam Dorjee works on a detailed painting inspired by Buddhist teachings. “I use all-natural paint that I make on my own. Even the canvas is cotton, which I make,” he says.The Norbulingka Institute was founded in 1955 to preserve Tibetan identity in exile through classical arts, crafts and literature.Story continues below this adAt another stall, the Tibetan Women’s Centre in Rajgarh, Dehradun, displays hand-woven carpets carrying traditional Tibetan symbols. Each can take a month or more to make.Lhazom (72) has been making them for 50 years. She came to India with her parents when she was three. Sitting outside the multi-purpose hall, she continues knotting a red, yellow and beige carpet.“We call it rumdhe in our language,” she says.