Folklore

The sun returns home for the mother bird
Photo: Stanzin Dorjai (Gya)

The sun returns home for the mother bird

Spiti Valley has a remarkable ancient agricultural heritage that has sustained several thousand people in the remotest corner of high and arid Western Himalayas—one of the most inhospitable and climate-sensitive regions in the world—for more than a thousand years. The enduring sustainability of agriculture in Spiti Valley rests with its farming calendar.  The calendar uses stories, evocative names for months, and traditional knowledge to guide the timing of local farming activities according to the unique natural rhythms of “Spiti, the Valley of Gods” (Piti Lhayi Lungpa).

The natural rhythms of Spiti Valley are captured in Spiti’s calendar with unique timing and names of months, which are different even from neighbouring Tibetan Buddhist regions of Ladakh and Kinnaur.  In addition to local timing and names of months explained below, the calendar is used with other local and Indigenous practices of telling time. For example, Spiti farmers mark sunrise and sunset over stone cairn markers atop high mountains and note shadow lines on mountainsides to identify important days and times, such as the solstices and equinoxes. Farmers also use their observations of colours, sounds, and rhythms of local plants and animals to tell time, such as observations of brightness and colour of the sky when birds sing at dawn.

Winter Months 

For Spiti farmers, the year begins early in winter with rest and celebration after a hard year of work in the field.  The first month is called Losar or “New Year” and is celebrated three months before the Tibetan new year.  Losar is celebrated early in Spiti, usually around mid-November of the Gregorian calendar, because the valley, including the villages and pathways, will soon get covered under layers of snow for months.  The timing is ideal for Spiti farmers who have customarily completed all essential seasonal livelihood activities, and are now ready to turn their attention to the important family, communal, and religious gatherings of the Losar month.

Photo: Prasenjeet Yadav

The second month is called Jhama or “Mother Bird.” The bird here is Gharog or raven.  Raven is a bird of augury and protection in ancient Spiti and Tibetan beliefs, like in many cultures around the world.  It is said that once upon a time the divine bird, Gharog (raven), was unable to hatch chicks from eggs despite its many attempts because its body was excessively warm for incubation.

Devastated by this failure, the raven prayed that it would be able to hatch chicks from golden eggs during the coldest winter months. That is the reason ravens prepare their nest on a mountain cliff during the second winter month and the month is named Jhama. There is a local saying that describes Spiti’s coldest winter months: “Jhama Jhama zerna Jirug a-chu-chu.”  This saying suggests one shouldn’t complain about Jhama’s cold weather because Jirug, the following month, is even colder.

The coldest winter month is called Jirug or “Baby Bird” because it is the time when ravens lay eggs and hatch their baby birds. References to divine birds are common in Tibetan calendars. For example, the 2008-09 farming almanac of the nearby region of Kinnaur notes the following during Spiti’s Jirug month: “the divine bird has completed 30 days, if this is followed by snowfall, the divine bird will lay golden eggs, and there will be bountiful agro-pastoralism in Tibet.” It is also important to note that Jhama and Jirug are named not only for mythological reasons but also, and more importantly, to categorize seasonal times based on timely behaviour of natural environment. Researchers, for example, have found that common raven egg-laying and brooding behaviour begins in February, which comes during Jirug month.

Spring Months

The first spring month is called Degya (‘de rgya), which means to “soak in the Sun’s energy” as days become warmer and longer with the spring equinox. As snow cover begins to melt and days become brighter, blue sheep and ibex nibble on dormant plants on distant mountains, often under the lurking eyes of hungry snow leopards.  The month is named after the Sun’s warming energy during this month because it is crucial for melting the snow from the fields so that farmers can start Spiti’s short growing season early next month.

Photo: Dr. Tashi Tsering

The second spring month is Shingdeo (zhing ‘debs) or “cultivate the fields.” On the chosen auspicious day of the month, the farmers gather a few loose rocks on their fields, between which they burn juniper leaves to make smoke offerings. This is followed by offerings of libation drink carefully wrapped in a white scarf and marked symbolically with a dab of butter called yar. Yar-butter is marked on the foreheads of people, on horns of the yaks, and on the ploughs. And all through the ploughing period, the ploughman sings songs and prayers which may guide the yaks to turn, stop, or continue ploughing, or pray for absolution of sins that may come from harming insects and bugs in the process of ploughing.

Photo: Deepshikha Sharma

Spiti comes alive in bright colours during the final spring month of Na-ngon Sa-ngon, which means “blue skies blue earth.” This name invokes the beauty of lush green fields under bright blue skies.  Yaks graze freely on the mountains for the rest of the year until winter snowfall to produce the main source of energy for the village economy: dung for fuel and manure.  During this month, farmers count and wait forty days from seeding to first watering, guided by traditional knowledge, to ensure ideal conditions for seed germination in local soil, water, and weather conditions. Then expert women farmers do the first “mother watering” or Yurma, with Tirping, an irrigation tool made of blue sheep horns that ensures greener crops.

Summer Months

The young, irrigated crops begin to flower in early summer which is why the first summer month is called Metog or “flower”. Metog is indeed a flowering month as all kinds of flowers bloom throughout the valley during this time. The second watering called Rhakti or “watering the sun-burned” plants happens during this month. Farmers allow ten days to pass between the first and the second watering, making young crops dry and sun-burned. This practice teaches the young crops the value of the nourishing powers of scarce water, making them absorb more water in the future. These farming practices follow stringent customs based on the calendar, such as the yearly “ban on the use of sickle” or ban on cutting plants from summer solstice (June 21) until harvest season to ensure maximum plant biomass growth on Spiti’s arid landscape.

Photo: Prasenjeet Yadav

By mid-summer, the farmers’ labor bear fruit as grains begin to grow on the barley ears. This is the reason the mid-summer month is called Drebu or fruition of one’s labor. Farmers wait for the grains to become ripe for harvest next month. As tufts of bristles grow on barley ears, farmers irrigate the fields with a special technique called Kirchuyi. Now watering is done after carefully preparing irrigation channels and sluices in such a way that water will flow to all parts of the field by itself after it is released from the main sluice of the field. Another name for this convenient method is Minchu or seed-ripening water.

The last summer month is called Selda or “harvest month.” Unlike new commercial crops, traditional crops like barley are harvested methodically according to ancient customs. After the crops are cut, the sheaves are laid out in the field in neat rectangle-shaped patches to cover the barley ears from drying under direct sunlight. It is only when the crop sheaves are brought to the threshing ground that the ears are exposed to the sun for drying. The importance of observing this practice is told in the story of Jhojho Druguma.

Photo: Prasenjeet Yadav

Jhojho Druguma was a rich woman who did not bother to dry her barley sheaves in the proper manner. As a result, the ears and grains became too dry, and they fell off when the sheaves were carried from the field to the threshing ground. That is why, to Spiti farmers, the stars of the Milky Way are spread out the way they are so spectacularly over Spiti’s night skies. The stars of the Milky Way are Jhojho Druguma’s grains that fell on her way to the threshing ground.

Autumn Months

The first autumn month is named Khuyu. Khuyu is the Spiti word for circular threshing that is done to separate the grains from the husks. The process involves tethering yaks and other animals to a sturdy central pole and making the animals trample over harvested crops in a circular fashion. When the animals go round and round, tromping the husks and the grains, farmers use wooden pitchforks (zar) to mix, push or spread the husks so that the grains are properly separated. The whole process is blessed with Khuyu songs that can be heard from distant corners of villages.

The penultimate month is called Nyirug. “Nyi” is a short for Nyima or the Sun. “Rug” means to gather, specifically to gather animals back home before sunset. As such, Nyirug is the month when sun sets early, and days become shorter when farmers gather their horses and yaks back from the mountains in preparation of the oncoming long and cold winters. Farmers also follow stringent customs to ensure that there is enough winter stock of barley flour, dung, and fodder in their households during this month.

The last month is called Nyikhyim, which refers to the twelve zodiac houses of the sun in Tibetan astrology. “Nyi” means sun and “khyim” means house or home. Nyikhyim here refers to the Sun’s return home after completion of its annual cycle. For Spiti farmers, however, the Sun returns home to fulfil the mother bird’s prayers. This is expressed in the local proverb, “nyima garlog, jhama yin”. The Sun returns home so it becomes cold enough for the mother bird to arrive and hatch chicks. As such, the story of mother bird comes to a full circle at the end of the year along with the sun’s annual return home, while in anticipation of “Spiti’s deep cold winters when even yak-horns crack into pieces.”

In sum, the farmers of Spiti Valley practice a calendar that integrates local economy and ecology into a cosmic unity filled with wonderful stories and ancient wisdom that is perhaps more relevant today than it ever was.

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Stone breaking ceremony and Buchen of Spiti
Picture taken in 1998 | Photo: Buchen Tsetan Dorjee

Stone breaking ceremony and Buchen of Spiti

Buchen “the great disciples”

The first time I witnessed a Buchen performance, I remember feeling eerily awed. I do not remember much details about the performance but their ghastly white face smeared with flour and the cheek piercing ritual has stayed distinctly with me. My mother used to scare me that if I ever behaved badly, I would be taken away by meme buchen at night. 

Buchen are a group of religious performers in Spiti who enact elaborate rituals and ceremonies to ward off evil spirits that bring misfortunes. They entrap the spirit in a stone and demolish it through a sacred stone breaking ceremony. The ritual is also associated with curing diseases and healing an ailing heart. Nowadays, it is most commonly commissioned to prevent agricultural mishaps, disease outbreak, disaster and water scarcity in a region. Buchen are well-known for performing folk lore, enacting stories of Buddhist saints, Lhamo (opera) and Namthar (biographies). Given their dynamic role in Spitian society, they are viewed differently as ritualistic performers, opera performers, healers, storytellers and messengers of Buddha’s teachings.

Photo: Pitt Rivers Museum, UK

The Buchen of Spiti trace their lineage to Thangtong Gyalpo, a 14th C religious practitioner in Tibet who was famously known as “Chak zampa” for making iron bridges and stupa in Tibet. It is said that the stone breaking ceremony was first performed by him to curb an epidemic in Tibet; the capital city Lhasa was plagued with 360 different types of deadly diseases – massively ravaging the lives of ordinary citizens. A demonic force is believed to have caused the disease outbreak and it was then Thangtong Gyalpo first performed the sacred stone breaking ceremony to tame the evil spirit. It is believed that he entrapped the demon in a stone, performed the ritual by breaking the stone, and successfully managed to stop the disease from spreading.

He performed it the second time when a demonic spirit was obstructing the monastery he was building. Whatever was made during the daytime was demolished by demons at night. He then performed the stone breaking ceremony where he subdued the evil spirit in a stone and annihilated it by performing the ritual. The monastery eventually came to completion after the demons were tamed. The practice then became widespread in other Himalayan regions and became an important tradition.

Photo: Tenzin Sonam

Thangtong Gyalpo was a versatile figure. He was a highly revered Buddhist tantric master, skilled in monument making, and nurtured a strong penchant for performative art forms like opera, theater, folk songs and writing. He was also the first priest to spread religious teachings through physical enactments of morality plays, allegorical folklore, song & dance and narratorial acting. He strongly felt that the core teachings on compassion, kindness, peace and impermanence should be taught in a way people can understand and implement in their real lives rather than just instructing from scriptures. He then founded the first theatre group in Tibet which goes to every village and performs religious teachings through morality plays and songs. Buchens of Pin valley in Spiti are disciples of this great master and they consider themselves as his sons “Bu-chen = great sons” who will follow the legacy of their master. Paying tribute to Thangtong Gyalpo is a huge part of Buchen’s performance; they put his statue on the altar, pray to him, sing odes and his teachings are orally passed through many generations.

Buchen as healers – relevance of the ceremony

I have seen several Buchen ceremonies during my growing up years and their performances are always invariably very striking. They are bold and impressionistic – one can remember the visuals long after the performance is over. Their repertoire, the enactments, narration and audience engagement are hugely appealing. It is like when they are performing – you are part of the stage, the play and the world they created for you. You might be a silent audience observing them from a distance but they will break the barrier by suddenly putting you in the spotlight – asking you questions, mimicking you and making you part of the play. As such, the distance between the performer and the audience is fluid. You are part of their stage, their world and they derive inspiration, anecdotes from you, your life and the larger community.

The Buchen’s performances are highly centered on religious precepts but with time, it has evolved to incorporate social realities of local communities. The practice is no longer restricted to impart religious teachings but it’s also done to avert serious social and ecological crises like drought, disasters, plague, agricultural loss and to bring harmony among communities. Locals appeal Buchens to perform ceremonies before agricultural season, during particularly low snowfall year, for recovery of physical ailments, while building houses, before starting any new venture in life or to bless a pregnant woman for health and happiness. Meme Buchens play a critical role as healers in Buddhist societies in Himalayan region and their blessings are sought during times of insurmountable distress as well as to bring peace and prosperity. Last year, when the world was gripped with novel coronavirus and there was panic everywhere, remote communities from Spiti sought solace in the healing powers of Buchen, to protect and safeguard them.

Photo: Buchen Gatuk Sonam

Stone breaking ceremonies were performed in many villages like Kaza, Demul, Khurik, Ki and Pin valley. They were also invited to many parts of Ladakh, Zanskar, Lahaul and Kinnaur to help communities deal with crop failure and drought. They were once invited to Patlikuhl, a small village near Kullu/Manali where an annual flood was causing huge devastation. Similarly, in 2018 when His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama fell gravely ill after an eye surgery, meme Buchen of Pin performed a stone breaking ceremony in his “sim-chung” (private residence) for quick recovery. Individuals, villagers, institutions and monasteries consult them for healing, to dispel hindrances and for an auspicious beginning deed.

Sword dance and the stone breaking ceremony

Buchen form groups of 4 or 5 people. The troupe is led by the head Buchen (Lo chen), an actor who plays the role of Lukzi (shepherd) or Onpa (hunter) followed by two other actors who assist them in various tasks. The Lo-chen performs all key ceremonies and religious narratives while Lukzi grips the audience through his skillful narration, storytelling and repertoire. He is the most captivating character – his deliveries are a blend of social commentaries, mimicries, moral teachings and comic interludes.

The Buchen head opens the ceremony with prayers, places the statue of Thangtong Gyalpo on the altar, pays him homage and narrates Namthar (biographies). The other team prepares the stage by placing a large boulder near the altar, drawing a human figure on it symbolizing the evil spirit/ demon that is to be demolished and burning incense. There will be brief prayer in between and after that, followed by a dance led by the head Lama rhythmically swinging the sword in slow dance movements.

Then comes Lukzi’s turn, who enters the stage wearing a sheep skin and face smeared with white barley flour. He takes over the performance, engaging with the audience – making them crack into loud laughter and burst into tears while the head Buchen prepares for sword dance. He strips the upper part of his body naked, then slowly pierces his cheeks with a large pin and there’s considerable excitement, fear and thrill among the audience who watch him do this. It is a slow careful action and is done to dispel ill omens – the piercing of cheeks symbolizes purity of speech. He then proceeds to point the tip of the sword on his belly and slowly jumps to put all his body weight on it – repeating the act by drawing a sword in his armpits. The whole ritual of body piercing symbolizes the mutual existence of the mortal human body and lha (spiritual deity) that resides in each one of us. The sword dancing and body piercing symbolizes purity of body, mind and speech.

At the culminating act, while Lochen prepares himself for the sacred stone breaking ceremony, the dancer on whose body the stone is to be broken, lies down. A thin cloth and a heavy stone is placed on his body while the other actors look for a second stone. Lo-chen enters the scene, lifts the second boulder and smashes it on the stone placed on the dancer’s belly. The stone breaks with loud thudding noise signaling annihilation of the demon whose spirit was entrapped in the stone. Meme Buchens undergo intense tantric training, yoga, meditation and scripture learning in retreat to acquire such high feat. They acquire immunity towards fatal injuries and mishaps while performing ceremonies after decades of stringent training and disciplining of body and mind. They acquire mastery over their being before they perform healing treatments on others.

Photo: Buchen Tsetan Dorjee

They travel extensively within Spiti and outside to perform stone breaking ceremonies among various communities in Himalayan region like Ladakh, Kinnaur, Kullu/Manali, Riwalsar (Tso Pema), Sikkim and Nepal.  Every year they make a journey in small groups carrying the traveling altar, a trunk comprising their costumes, props and other material used for performance and leave from Pin for months at stretch. Sometimes they are out of their homes for as long as six months and come back only during harvest season for the farm work. They recite Namthars, folksongs and perform ceremonies in settlements where they reside and also make trade deals with the locals. They also sell horses and in turn receive Khullu (Yak wool), hand spun blankets,  Lena (Pashmina) and apricots. The Buchen tradition has seen huge decline in Ladakh and the meme Buchens of Pin valley often get invited to perform ceremonies to revive crop failure, crop damage and to appease local deities for abundant snowfall. They travel all over Ladakh; Demchok, Korrzok, Tsokar in Changthang to Choglamsar, Parang valley and even in Zanskar. Alternatively, in Kinnaur they visit Chango, Nako, Malling, Leo, Hangrang and even go as far as Rampur where the biggest trade fair in Himachal happens. Wherever they go, they are treated with utmost respect and their sword dancing and stone breaking ceremonies are considered equivalent to the Jintsak ceremony performed by highly incarnated Rinpoches (religious leader) to dispel ill omen and bring prosperity in the region.

Buchen tradition has undergone a tremendous change over the years. It used to be a widespread practice in many Himalayan communities but now it is actively pursued only in Spiti and that too minimally – there are only 10 remaining Buchen households in the region. “.. people no longer value our skills” laments Meme Buchen Tsetan (76) who is one of the oldest Buchen in Spiti. “Earlier people would bow down in front of Buchen to show their reverence but there’s considerable change in people’s attitude.” They also confide that with the influx of tourists, photographers and filmmakers, the practice has been reduced to a bare minimum where they are generally not interested in listening to prayers and Namthar (biographies) and rush them to perform sword dance and stone breaking which has more element of spectacle.

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Losar : Animal’s Day

Losar : Animal’s Day

I think I am in fact the least excited and most boring person at any form of festival. Much of it could be due to my introverted genes that wouldn’t fancy gatherings, dancing, fireworks or any other things which involve interacting with strangers, but part of it must be because of my upbringing. I am not sure of both though. But my heart just cannot seem to invite festivity as much as my friends and family do.

I hail from a small nomadic village in Ladakh where the livelihood of everyone is dependent on livestock. Almost every household owns some goats, sheep, horses and yak. These animals aren’t merely our source of income, but are used for obtaining food, fetching water, traveling, and most importantly seeking comforts and friendship. Since our life revolves around rearing these animals and more importantly enduring the harsh reality of having no access to electricity, water and worse not even a single shop in the vicinity throughout the year, we have little time for festivity. Or, many of us are even oblivious of its existence, except for Losar– the Tibetan new year and Thrungkar Duechen – His Holiness The Dalai Lama’s birthday. Hence, every single person in the village looks forward to these two days like a child, although for different reasons.

Photo: Namgyal Lhamo

My fondest memories of Losar and Thrungkar were significantly boring compared to my cousins. But these days, no matter how many festivals I witness as I travel through urban life, there is nothing more meaningful and beautiful than this idea of celebration I got to see early in my life. It was on one of the third days of Losar. My father came to me, patted my head gently and said with a smile “Life of your polled lamb will be set free”. I was elated beyond words and this memory has remained in my heart so vividly. In my village, on the third day of Losar or Thrungkar, fathers of the households are the busiest. They get up early in the morning to appease the Land God and other deities who are believed to be the true owners of our land according to their ancestors. This is followed by their brief journey to the animal shed where they would choose some animals randomly and set their life free. By that, we are not allowed to send them to slaughter houses, milk them and are expected to watch them with unconditional love and care which every animal receives anyway, until they die. It was my most awaited moment of the festival. My siblings and I would always hug our father with utter joy after he would come out of the shed. This act is mostly done to honor and thank the sacrifices of animals for our livelihoods while it is also performed for the health and long life of His Holiness and carry his message of love, kindness and compassion towards animals.

We eventually shifted to a town nearby, leaving the whole nomadic life behind due to the inability of my family to see the animals suffer for our survival. But, as I look back, I realised that it was this place where I gave birth to my love for animals. Today, even if we live a totally different life, my parents make sure to celebrate these two days by setting at least one animal’s life free. There is nothing more rewarding at a festival for me than this act of genuine kindness. Somehow I think of these two days as a festival of animals and I hope to carry this tradition forward in my own life too.

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Reyun Tache
Remu Painting | Jugmat Norboo (Urgos)

Reyun Tache

Reyun Tache is a festival celebrated two days before Losar in many parts of Lahaul. In my village-Urgos, the festival is marked by each household painting Remu paintings on their walls for inviting good omen and warding off evil. Paintings are made with almost a competitive spirit, with each house trying to do better than others. All the members of the house take part in this celebratory moment and contribute to the painting. Each element of the painting signifies a deeper religious sentiment, and connectedness and harmony of indigenous communities with nature. Thus, it is important for each house to ensure all elements are present on their painting.

The next day is when the fun begins. Everyone visits the homes of the others to appreciate their efforts and ensure that they have included all the necessary elements in their painting. If not, then they have to pay a fine to the village committee and carry shukpa (incense sticks) throughout the day as a penalty.

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Who owns the Water?
Photo: Chhering Angchuk

Who owns the Water?

“Lungpa Bhu Med La Bhu, Ta Med La Teu, Chu Med La Chu”
Piti Da-Chang Monlam

“May the ones deprived of a son be blessed with one, the ones deprived of horse be blessed with a mare and the ones deprived of the water be blessed with this resource”
Spitian prayer verse during Da-Chang festival.

In Spiti we define wealth and prosperity in terms of water -“Chu Sang-na, Yul Sang” the expression aptly translates as  “abundant water results in prosperous villages”. Being a cold desert in high Himalaya, It is difficult to think of a resource more essential to the well being of people and their economies than water, yet managing water resources is a complex and challenging task and sometimes unfortunately results in many conflicts: between villages, households and within families. Sgrungs – Spitian oral stories are full of such narratives and show entangled relations between people and their water bodies. This one concerns two neighboring villages – a tale is known to many.

Every year, before agricultural season when the Spiti Valley gets engaged for the upcoming farming season; uncovering the tools, sharpening sickles, putting ashes to their fields and waiting for the glacial water-melt to fill their water canals, the villagers of Rangrik and Sumling, two neighbouring villages, have additional conundrum to resolve – that of the fate of “Shang-ma” – the precious mountain top water source. The dilemma of deciding who the water belongs to, which village gets to use water, channel it to irrigate their field and ultimately who are the custodians of this glacial melt water source. When disagreement arises, quite often a story is narrated that is believed to have happened a few decades ago.

Photo: Chhering Angchuk

Once a girl from Sumling village was married off to Rangrik village. Upon seeing the dry, parched fields of Rangrik, the girl’s family was distressed and decided to give her the most precious treasure they owned – the glacial water source. Back then wealth was measured in terms of one’s fields, cattle, agrarian assets and one’s access or ownership to land and water resources. With Sumling’s prime water source as a gift from her maiden family, the bride happily settled in Rangrik and many believe that Rangrik’s expansion, prosperity in present day and harvest abundance is attributed to the bride’s “Dak-ja” (parting gifts for brides). However, stories like these are often loaded with contentions and depending on who is telling the story and from what perspective, the details, the bold claims, the story arcs change dramatically.

Photo: Chhering Angchuk

While the story attributes Sumling-pa as the custodian of the precious glacial melt water which is located at the mountain range above their village, however the coin flips its side when Rangrik villagers elucidate the situation. They trace their ownership to the waterbody in accordance with traditional land and water rights that have been bestowed to them. In terms of settlement in Spiti, Rangrik came into existence much earlier than its neighboring villages and the locals believe that the vast stretch of land, pastures, waterbodies from Rangrik till Sumling covering Khurik, another villager in-between, historically comes under the territory of Rangrik and thereby belongs to them. They further elaborate that they have been maintaining the waterbody since the olden days. If there’s steady flow of water in canals of Rangrik and Sumling village, it is because villagers of Rangrik have traditionally been preserving it. In the olden days, one member from each household of Rangrik accompanied by their horses and donkeys would make a day’s trip till Shang-ma – located at the mountain top of Sumling to directly channel glacial melt into their canals.

Photo: Chhering Angchuk

The crucial portion of the Kul (canal) head is at the glacier top, which is to be tapped. It is to be kept free of debris and so the Kul is lined with stone to prevent clogging and seepage. Water is, then, collected through the night and released into the exit channel in the morning. The Kul which stretches for over 7 km from Sumling runs through steep mountain slopes and crosses numerous crevices to reach Rangrik. The water flowing in the Kul is the only viable way to sustain vast agricultural lands in Rangrik and to feed their cattle. Villagers go on to describe that at night when the canal is dry, they even let their horses take shelter inside it to protect the livestock from cold. “In the olden days, our Kuls are that deep and water that abundant” muses munshi Chhering Angchuk – a teacher at government school in Rangrik who has been patiently corresponding with me over phone and explaining the details. Rangrik’s Gyetpo (village headman) is responsible for overseeing the maintenance of water, governing its distribution among farming households and mediating if there’s any conflict around for water distribution from Kuls can cause tensions when there’s shortage.

The glacial water source, although located at Sumling village, is primarily maintained by Rangrik village and therefore enjoys greater access to it. However, the rules around water are not straightforward and take on complicated turns as the meandering stream from the hills. In order to ensure there’s parity and less discrepancies, a consultation was made to village deities and the communities from two villages agreed upon several traditionally governed rules to be followed henceforth. While these rules are not hardbound or codified legally, it works purely on faith. Communal integrity and fidelity to verbal commitment is a virtue everyone strives to adhere to hence, going against one’s word or breaking a promise made in front of village deity and village elders is considered a grave offense.

Sumling village | Photo: Chhering Angchuk

The rules governing usage of water and access to it is as follows:

  • while villagers of Rangrik can tap the glacial water from its source, they cannot completely divert it to their side or block the Kul’s head with mud, reinforce it with cement, grass or cloth to prevent downstream Sumling village from using it.
  • The water seeped out from the crevices, naturally caused chasm and narrow openings can be used by villagers of Sumling. The oozed-out water “Dsag-ti” is then subsequently diverted to the fields of Sumling and are fed to their cattle.

Water being a precious resource, there are meticulous rules even for using “dripped out” water (Dsag-chu) which would be otherwise viewed as an “extra flow” or “excess water” and left unregulated.

Is the contention then completely resolved?

Disagreements, tensions between two communities occur even now and in fact women from both these villages are stereotyped as ‘quarrelsome’ for they are primarily responsible for irrigating the fields and unfortunately sometimes end up in heated arguments. Knowing fully the onus of such conflict and subsequently a scandal that follows majorly lies on them, upon asking, many of them ruefully answers “chui thupa zinna mekak” – “our water conflict can never be fully resolved”. The story of bride being gifted water or the claims made by respective communities remains an enigma that transcends monolithic binaries of right or wrong but the story lives on and so do the many contentions around water that continues to discord people’s lives. Across the globe, access to water has always been a source of tension and it continues to be a conflict among stakeholders.

Despite the contention, many native Spitian lores, verses and religious incantations dwell on the divine, metamorphic concept of water. Referring to it as “life giving” “life line” – evoking mutual interdependence of people and water. It is culturally revered, venerated, celebrated and the guiding philosophy underlying diverse forms of water usage is respect for water considering it as an inherent, living part of nature. As such there are plenty of religious verses, hymns, odes dedicated to rivers, streams, ponds, spring waters, mountain top glaciers and rivulets to prevent it from drying and seeking its abundance in nature. In Spiti, during one of harvest festival Da-chang, villagers recite sacred verses (aforementioned) where they collectively pray protective deities to bestow “water, son and a horse” – three essential resources to sustain agrarian life in mountain desert.

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The Many Tales Around Water
Photo: Kalzang Dolma

The Many Tales Around Water

Insights from Ane Butith Zangmo, Kalzang Dolma  with complimentary reading from Tobtan’s book “Spiti: A socio-cultural traditions”

Spiti’s oral literature has extensive reference to water. Many ancient verses, odes, hymns, folk songs, old lore allude to water with sheer reverence, refer it as a treasure and embody ancestral affiliation within physical, ecological, social-cultural and spiritual contexts. Each narrative is deeply embedded in local space – intimately bound up with natal soil, water bodies and their complex manifestation in local geography. Each village has a complex set of rules, systems governing their natural resources and finds its reflection in local peras (proverbs), wise sayings and old chants. These oral tales deviate in their form, structure and might not offer linearity of usual stories but are nevertheless recounted for generations for wisdom. Many of these tales are deemed to be true, many filled with mythical, fantastical elements showing deeper values of interconnection and indigenous stewardship.

Many scholars studying Spitian literary tradition find an association of water with the name Spiti (Spyi Ti/Pi ti) itself. Sir Alexander Cunningham has explained that many terms in Western Himalaya, especially the names of rivers are added with the suffix “ti” with this significance. The word “ti” is also found in some dialects of Kinnaur and Lahual which means “water”. In Spiti, the word “ti” is interchangeably used for “chhu” which means water colloquially. This is aptly reflected in the traditional irrigation system and as recounted by many female farmers in Spiti. Owing to scanty rainfall, Spitians primarily relied on glaciers for irrigation and there are careful rules around water distribution within farming households. There are different watering stages during agricultural season, each binding their own values to the farm life: Yurma, Srak-ti, Gsum-ti, Dsag-ti, Minchu. The first watering occurs after the first month of seeding which is called Yurma – the most important watering work as during this time saplings are young and it needs careful tending. The second watering implies a more urgent need for water as the days are hot and fields parched. During second watering Srak-ti, the saplings are sun-burnt (Srak pa – burnt in spitian) and therefore in greater need of water. Gsum-ti refers to the third cycle of watering and Men-chu means watering cycle to ripen the seeds. This way, Spitian literary and cultural tradition signifies usage of “ti” (water) in layered manner and embodies rich tradition around it.

Another tale related to water that’s recounted relates to Dhankar village. It is a high elevation village in Spiti and used to be capital of Spiti before it was shifted to Kaza. The village landscape comprises flat tracts of land on high mountains, steep cliffs and sloped hills. These high settlements are located more than half a kilometer above the river bed and therefore access to river water is very difficult, the villagers mostly relied on glacier water for all their primary needs and once a local shepherd beautifully expressed his experiences of local topography in a form of Pera (local saying).

Many villagers recite it orally during farming work to find solace and humor in hardwork.

“Nyi-ma shar-she snga la skyod-che phyi-ya. Lug-zi sdug-po’i gnas yin…
Brang-mkhar chhang-sa ma-ba la do-ya ma-ba. Ra ro-ba sdug-po’i gnas yin…
Brang-mkhar gyen-yur ma-ba la chhun sna ma-ba. Chhun-pa sdug-po’i gnas yin….”

It can be roughly translated as:
The sun rises here at Dhankhar early, but sets late, which makes the day longer and is cause of concern for the shepherds who have to graze the cattle and sheep at high pastures for a longer time.

In Dhankhar, there are plenty of chhang (local alcohol) but also the place is too hilly and there is too much up and down, which is the cause of great worry for drunkards.

In Dhankhar, the irrigation channels are located at the places too high and the sources too far, which is a great difficulty for the women who have to draw water for irrigation from the upper Kuls and much time is wasted in walking up and down between two distant places.

Similarly, there is a saying in Spitian tradition about a group of three villages Lari, Tabo and Poh

“Gong mtso rdol song na, chog-la yul gsum lhag”

which means “if the lake above bursts, the three villages of chog-la will be destroyed”. The lake here refers to Mane lake near Tabo.

Photo: Kalzang Dolma

There is then another interesting folk story related to Chandertal lake in Spiti. It is told that there was once a shepherd from Rangrik village who used to take the flock of his sheep for grazing in the meadows near the lake of Chandertal. The shepherd was skillful in playing flute and he enjoyed playing many melodious songs on the shore of the clear Moon-lake. In the lake there lived a Khandoma, a water goddess. The Khandoma could not resist the attraction of the enchanting melody of the flute echoing over the calm surface of the ethereal lake. She became a regular visitor to the lake to listen to the music.

One day as the shepherd was playing the flute the Khandoma appeared before him and spoke to him about her love for his melodies. They met regularly and soon they had a handsome boy out of the union. The Khandoma had asked him to keep their relationship a secret as the union between earthly beings and water dwellers like her from different realms are prohibited. The shepherd vowed to keep this a life long secret. But the shepherd was already married and had a wife back in his village Rangrik. One day he had an argument with his wife and in fit of rage he blurted out that he has a spouse – a Khandoma living in Chandertal and before her she was insignificant.  The wife challenged him to bring her home. The shepherd accepting the challenge went to the lake and started playing the flute as usual. The Khandoma appeared with the child who then was infected with a severe skin disease and was disfigured. She handed over the child to the shepherd and disappeared in the lake never to be seen again. The shepherd searched for her everywhere and tried calling her back through a series of melodies – he even tied a long rope on a wooden log and threw it in the lake to gauge the depth of water so that he could go look for her underneath. His rope fell short but it couldn’t measure the depth of the lake.  And thus, the heavenly relationship of love came to an end.

It is said that the descendants of the deceased child still live in Rangrik and his relics are preserved in their Cho-Khang (prayer room) and revered. Villagers still believe that she resides in her abode in the water body and routinely offers prayers, does rituals, purifies it, cleans it and maintains it as a holy site.

It is a curious tale open to different kinds of interpretations but according to local mythology, this folklore urges for the need to protect, conserve and value water. The story also portrays the community’s reverence to local deities which are associated with multiple features of local geography like land (Sa- dak: protective land deity) and water (Klu: serpent deity in water). The Spitian belief system reveals complex relations between people, environment and various spirits. Land and many other natural entities are imbued with the notion of personhood and agency. It inquires deeper meaning of landscape and environment and projects how religious ethics and ecology are related.

3000 2250 Kalzang Dolma