Mountains

Birth of the Chandra river

Birth of the Chandra river

Himkatha

It is fairly well known that Gaddi herders from Kangra spend summer in the rich pastures of Lahaul. This is an annual migratory route that the Gaddi community have accessed for generations. They camp in the high mountain pastures. From a distance their life may seem idyllic – spending the day in the shadow of snow-clad peaks, breathing the crisp mountain air, basking in the soft summer sun. Unfortunately, the Gaddi’s dammed flock does not harbor such taste for a serene life in the mountains. All they care for is food! Each morning they bleat to be taken to a new slope where they can get their fill of fresh summer grass. And the poor Gaddi herder has to run behind them to make sure the flock remains safe, for a pesky wolf waiting to feast on the flock is almost never very far. Summer days are very long. But as dusk sets in, the Gaddi gets some rest.

It had only been a few years since Noopalal started accompanying his aged uncle and their flock. Their settlement was at the farthest end of Lahaul valley. It was so far that most herders had only heard of it. It was famous for a beautiful lake that had turquoise-blue water.

Noopalal was in-charge of the flock, while his old uncle stayed back and cooked for them. Every evening Noopalal would herd the flock and sit outside their thaach, which overlooked the lake. He would slowly pull out his flute and play it softly while his uncle smoked a pipe. Even though there was no one but his animals to listen, he played the flute because it gave him joy. On most days it would get dark by the time he finished. He would then crawl into the thaach, eat his meal, and retire for the day. This was the ritual he followed on most days until it all changed one night. The moon was full and when Noopalal finished playing his flute he looked mesmerized. As if he were possessed, as if someone had cast a spell on him. When he looked at the lake he saw a reflection of the full moon in its turquoise-blue water. He stood up in shock. “The moon has fallen in the lake”, he whispered. “The moon is drowning. Help!” He yelled as he ran towards the lake. His old uncle barely registered anything, and by the time he did Noopalal had jumped into the icy cold water. His poor uncle ran behind him. But he could only watch helplessly. He remembered Noopalal shouting frantically that the moon is cracking, looking at the ripples on the surface of the water. By morning, both Noopalal and the moon were gone.

Did Noopalal sink with the moon that night? Maybe not. But many believe that the moon did, indeed, drown that night and the water that spilled over gave birth to the Chandra river. And the lake, Chandra tal, remains beautiful as ever. Especially on full moon nights. If you ever have the good fortune of spending a full moon’s night by Chandra tal, you might even hear Noopalal’s flute.

  • Gaddi herders are a semi-pastoral tribe that rear sheep and goat. Some of the sturdiest men and women, the Gaddis travel for 10-11 months with their livestock covering a vast distance across the Himalaya and her lower plains.
  • Kangra is a Himalayan region from where the Gaddi herders hail. It is also a district in the State of Himachal Pradesh.
  • Lahaul is another remote Himalayan valley that can be reached after crossing the Rohtang pass. Lahaul valley is adjacent to Spiti valley and together Lahaul-Spiti forms the biggest district of Himachal Pradesh.
  • Thaach is a stone hut that gaddi herders live inside in places where they camp. These stone huts are old and beautifully built by stacking stones. They protect the herders from rough weather.
  • Chandra river rises from the snow lying at the base of the main Himalayan range in the Lahaul and Spiti district. The beautiful Chandra Tal has formed at its source.
  • Chandra tal is a beautiful high-altitude lake known for its beauty. It is also a very beautiful site to watch water birds. It is a mythologically important site.
864 491 Ajay Bijoor
The First Bus to Spiti

The First Bus to Spiti

Himkatha

Losar is the first village of Spiti valley which is located in the high Himalaya. You have to cross two high mountain passes to reach Losar. Getting here in winter is impossible because heavy snowfall blocks the roads across the passes. People only traveled in and out of Losar in summer. Heavy winter snowfall kept Losar, and the rest of Spiti, isolated for many months in a year. Winters were usually long and uneventful. But that year was different. Everyone had spent winter in anticipation. Everyone was excited for the new bus service that was going to start from Manali to Spiti in summer. Until then, only a few men had traveled outside the valley for trade. Horses were the preferred mode of travel and almost no one had seen a motor vehicle.

Everyone was talking about the bus. That it would cover the steep climb up and down the mountain passes in a matter of hours, carrying 42 adults! What sort of a beast could carry such a heavy load and run so fast? This had remained a topic of discussion across Spiti, and especially Losar. Someone suggested that this beast had six legs and galloped faster than the fastest horse, while another said that it had the strength of 10 mules. And its eyes light up the mountain like the moon on a full moon night, said one of the better-traveled locals. The entire valley was wrapped in curiosity.

The long wait came to an end when the sun changed its direction marking the start of summer. It took several weeks to clear the snow over the passes. Word finally came that the bus service would start in two days. Losar would have the distinction of welcoming the first bus to Spiti. The entire village got busy. The men were decorating the village gate – an honor otherwise reserved to welcome a respected Rinpoche. The women took a break from the agricultural fields to prepare a feast to mark the historic day. Even the school was called off, so that children could take part in the celebrations.

Illustration: Nawang

People lined up to welcome the first bus with an Aashi in their hands. Everyone heard the bus before they saw it. The resounding humm of the diesel engine was met with loud cheers. And then, the bus came into sight. It chugged along the bumpy road. Everyone stood hypnotized seeing this enormous beast. No one moved. The bus came to a grinding halt after crossing the decorated village gate. Everyone moved forward skeptically to examine the bus. Some touched the body of the bus, others were fascinated by the windows and doors, a few observed from a distance lest the bus land a kick like some irritated horses do. The driver and conductor got off and were given a hero’s welcome. As the excitement gradually faded, people began to move towards the area where the food was being served.

As soon as the crowd vanished, Eve Ning Gemo lumbered out of her house. This kind, old lady was carrying a load of fodder in her hands. She walked up to the bus and laid out the fodder before the bus. Then, looking up lovingly she patted the bus and said, “You must be very tired. These youngsters have no heart. They all cheered as you strode in and then left to eat without even feeding you anything. But don’t you worry, I am here. I have brought you fresh fodder. Eat as much as you wish.”

Eve continued to pat the bus tenderly, waiting patiently for the bus to start eating the fodder she had laid before it.

  • Spiti Valley is a high-altitude region of the Himalaya, located in the north-eastern part of the northern Indian state of Himachal Pradesh. It is one of the most remote areas of India.
  • Rinpoche is a title in Tibetan Buddhism to address a respected and highly trained spiritual teacher or master.
  • Aashi (also referred to as Khata or Khatag) is a white scarf offered as a mark of respect in the Himalayan region. It is usually offered to revered monks and very special guests.
  • Eve is a title used by everyone to refer to their grandma or an elderly lady in Spiti.
1536 850 Ajay Bijoor
Balu Thukangbu

Balu Thukangbu

Himkatha

Balu Thukangbu is a little man who lives in the Himalayas. In the Spiti region, you will hear stories of him from Kaza to Kibber, from Chicham to Tashigang, from Kee to Bur, from Demul to Sagnam.​

No-one is quite sure where Balu lives. In Pin Valley, they say that Balu comes from biyul, a hidden land that only holy people can enter. In Kibber Valley, they say that Balu comes from a place just above Gete village, but no-one has seen him for a long time.

Balu is said to be one foot tall. He wears a one-foot-tall hat and carries a one-foot-tall stick. He can grant wishes, but first you must overpower him and take his stick and his hat.

This, however, is no easy task, because Balu has the strength of a bear.

He is also very hard to see. Some people say they once glimpsed something from the corner of their eye and wondered if it could have been Balu. Others say that only holy people or those with a fearful spirit can see him.

This does not stop people from trying, though. People love the idea of having their wishes granted. Some people even try to catch Balu and keep him as a servant.

Balu dislikes such treatment. If he is caught, Balu will try to escape and punish those who held him captive.​

In early times, Balu used to play in Key pond, but some of the villagers tried to catch him. After that, he was afraid and did not want to come back.

This did not stop people from trying, all over Spiti. People love wishes.

One of the villagers did manage to get hold of him one day and put the stick and the hat in a place too high for him to reach. They made Balu live in the kitchen as a servant. At ploughing time, Balu was sent to help in the fields.

Ploughing is hard work and requires help from everyone. The villagers made sure that Balu was always on hand. He was charged with the task of maintaining the equipment and mending anything that got broken.

One day, the stick from the plough was broken, so a boy was sent back to the village to get a new stick. The boy was in a rush. He saw a stick on one of the high shelves in the kitchen and grabbed it. He ran back to the field and gave it to Balu so he could mend the plough.

As you have probably guessed, the boy had taken Balu’s stick by mistake. He handed the stick to the little man. With his stick returned to him, Balu was able to escape.

Balu was still angry at the way he was treated and cursed the village. From Kaza to Kibber, from Chicham to Tashigang, from Kee to Bur, from Demul to Sagnam, people talk about the fate of the village cursed by Balu. They agree that Balu is very formidable, despite his size.​

Of course, that doesn’t put people off trying to catch him. People love wishes. Some people still try to catch a glimpse of him, and discuss whether they would try to catch him themselves if they saw him. What would you do?​

  • Chicham, Tashigang, Kee, Demul and Gete are villages in the Spiti valley and fall on the left bank of the Spiti river.
  • Pin valley is a small valley inside Spiti which is known for its scenic beauty and very hospitable people, much like the rest of Spiti.
  • Bur and Sagnam are villages in Pin valley.
  • Key pond is a lovely pond near the Kee village.
472 625 Dr. Jane Orton
Agri-Culture and Agriculture
Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Agri-Culture and Agriculture

Himkatha

Agriculture on the earth is about 10,000-12,000 years old and it appeared in India about 8000-9000 years ago. From hunting and gathering in the forests, how humans came to produce grains and how the entire process must have grown and spread across migrants, communities, regions and countries – is a fascinating history by itself. But have we ever paused to wonder or ask, what was it about agriculture that so many millennia later, it continues to be the principal foundation of our lives, relevance and survival and the main yardstick of our life’s fertility and continuous existence?

The primary significance of agriculture lies in its role as the provider of our food, sustaining our physical well-being and activity. However, its significance extends beyond mere sustenance. For instance, let me ask you, the food that we eat, does that affect us only physically? The straight answer to that is – No! Besides producing food for our physical body, the entire process of agriculture nurtures our minds and souls, transforming us into individuals capable of thoughtful contemplation with wisdom. This, in turn, has given birth to or impacted all aspects of our lives, be these physical, mental or spiritual, and social, economic and cultural. Just take a look around yourself and you will realize that there is no aspect of our society and lives – be it our meditations on the forests or the water, or our livelihood resources or artistic endeavours – which has not emanated or developed as a result of our agricultural pursuits. In different times and space, struggling through various passages and milestones, agriculture has nurtured human and social survival and our civilizations; and the society too, by making it a major part of one’s daily life, thought and sociability. Thus, it has given birth to and developed various aspects of social life and allowed itself to remain relevant.

Here, we are trying to look at the changes that have occurred in agriculture throughout its journey. For this, there are two aspects of agriculture that we need to look at a little closely – (1) Agriculture as the physical aspect or task of growing food crops; and (2) Going beyond the physical act of growing food and assimilating agriculture into the very nature of one’s social life, i.e. turning the entire process into agri-culture. For want of appropriate terminology let us call these as Agriculture and Agri-culture (Agri as Culture). Can you see the difference between the two – difference between the act of growing food and making the act as part of one’s culture? When we look from such a perspective, we can see that, if agriculture had remained just the physical act of growing food, then it would have become a mere profession but by developing it into agri-culture it has become a vocation and occupation that is at the very centre of our entire life. By turning it into agri-culture, an interactive bond developed between it and the society, leading to both learning and feeding from and giving to each other. This is why, no society ever, defined agriculture as a profession or trade nor treated it as such, but turned it into a life-style, which did not allow agriculture to remain stagnant and rooted but imbued it with the trait of “renewability”, enabling it across time and space, down to the needs and traits of every local community, in accordance with local experience, wisdom and sensibilities that enable it to remain relevant, alive and forever in step with the times. The trait of renewability developed into a natural trait which gave society the “vardaan” of the everlasting – and which we call development.

By harping on this difference, and seeking to use the two terms “change” and “renewability” with two different meanings, I wish to see and analyse the changes that we are seeking to understand. It might be appropriate that we analyse the dimensions and meanings of these two terms, for a clearer understanding of the change that we are discussing.

Are the terms “change” and “renewability”, synonyms?

I think not, and this is what I am seeking to understand and explain. Further, if we can see “agriculture and agri-culture” and “change and renewability” in the context of each other then we may be able to grasp better the essence of change in this sector in the last fifty odd years. For this, we may need to compare these in two distinct time eras.

The changes that have happened in agri-culture in the last 50 or so years are actually the consequence of changes in society that began with the advent of industrial revolution in Europe about two-three hundred years ago. That period provides a distinct dividing line across which we can clearly see an overall difference in the basic nature, belief, concept, action and result between agriculture and agri-culture. We can then clearly understand the cause and the impact of the changes that we have been witnessing in the last four-five decades.

The pre-industrial revolution 10-12 thousand years saw countless small and big changes. However, those changes happened in different times, in different places and amidst different communities and in accordance with retaining the balance of and in cooperation with the five elements. The genesis of those changes happened at specific local levels and no change was sudden but happened slowly as a result of close observation and experience over a long period. In other words, those changes had elements of deep reflection and experiment, wherein some experiments may have been fruitful and some not successful, immediately or over time, on the basis of which the society would have accepted, rejected, corrected or improved upon those. And such a process continued constantly. In fact, this entire process of doing, seeing, improving, adding on was what gave agriculture the trait that we are naming and explaining as “renewability” – wherein something new did not happen suddenly but grew on the foundation of the old and which sought to carry the old a few steps ahead.

Barahnaja, a traditional system of taking 12 crops in a year; Beej Bachao Andolan

What was special or specific about any such change or development was that it was based entirely on the experience and wisdom of the local farming community. As a result, there was a development of a repository of traditional knowledge which was not limited to grains and crops but assimilated understanding and knowledge of all natural resources. This encouraged at the local geographical level, diversity of crops growing in the field and the food being cooked in the kitchens. Not just that, its impact was seen and felt beyond local agriculture practice, on the development of native languages and proverbs, diverse folk arts and culture, and gave birth to the technology of making wood or metal implements and utensils. This is where, agriculture went beyond growing crops and adopted the wide character of what I have termed as agri-culture to become an intrinsic and inherent part of life, to become its lifestyle. It will not be an exaggeration to claim that it was this agri-culture which developed in the humans, observation based scientific temper and process which further developed among the humans, an understanding of climate and weather, botany and zoology, etc. Try to look at basic knowledge in any discipline and you will find that its seeds germinated as a result of and in the general environment created by agri-culture. Indeed, despite its very local nature and characteristics, agri-culture proved to assimilate within itself the vast and global natural vision. It became a close reflection of nature’s godly vision, and played a critical role in the existence and continued well-being of this earth.

If we take this entire spectrum together and borrow from the definition of democracy, we can say that the renewability in agri-culture is of the people, for the people, by the people. From concept to planning and execution, the entire responsibility and control remained with the local community.

Agri-culture which was life’s philosophy, a lifestyle is today a mere profession and mode of employment. In fact, it is no longer agri-culture and has reverted to being plain agriculture. Today, it is no longer a medium to enhance life but just to stay alive and afloat, to remain economically alive. The agriculture which is being encouraged and propagated today is no longer social but industrial, or in other words, the society no longer owns it but has rapidly been given to or taken over by the industrial and corporate companies. It is not based on the knowledge invented or developed by the farmers on the field, but the entire thought, observation, research and implementation is developed in the laboratory of some institution or company and then served as a package to the farmers. This is not part of agri-culture’s renewability emerging from the existing practice and from within the society and indeed, it is not even a change but an intentionally planned campaign (even, a conspiracy), a replacement deliberately imposed from the above and outside, to completely uproot this most important function in society. The cardinal characteristics of agri-culture were then steadily marginalized and erased.

This replacement about 50-60 years ago, which turned agri-culture on its head did not come with the Green Revolution (more appropriately called Greed Revolution) then but was the consequence of what had emerged as the industrial revolution two-three hundred years ago. And it started with de-legitimising traditional society’s existence, identity and knowledge by naming it ‘backward’ and following it up by seeking to shame people’s knowledge systems and their seeds. It was crucial and strategic that this society begin to have an inferiority complex about oneself. This was the first essential stage of the conspiracy. Once this was achieved, it was followed by a systematic replacement of the principles, methods, seeds with the means that it had created. As a result, a creative, productive and self-reliant society has today become a dependent slave farmer society.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

An important aspect of this change in India was the establishment of the institution of the Zamindari system, wherein the society itself saw its division into two distinct classes. This system, the “divide and rule” confiscated from farmers their independence and creativity and turned them into slaves at the village level itself. So, there is an entire stretch of an exploitative pattern, which later developed into the introduction and dominance of Green Revolution. In the course of the industrial revolution starting from Europe, all aspects of agri-culture were side-lined one by one. This started with terming the entire identity of character of a local society as backward. It was important, in fact, essential for new agriculture to establish itself by downgrading and marginalizing traditional knowledge systems and particularly, its local seeds, and for the people to feel ashamed of their own rich traditions. Once this was done, it was followed by introducing and establishing its own means and resources. The net result of this was that a productive farming society has today become an enslaved, dependent society.

Let us try to understand this through an example or two.

Earlier, seeds of any grain or produce came from the farmers themselves and whose ownership was theirs, collectively. Any seed needed, in the first instance, came from their own homes, or neighbours, or village, or neighbouring villages. Those were seeds which bred and prospered in the soil and water of the respective village, were acclimatized to the local geographical conditions and situations, and which were also the reasons that resulted in their tremendous diversity.  Consequently, this diversity enabled the seeds or crops to develop characteristics to suit every season, every taste, every health point of view and which provided them with tremendous disease resistance and ensured the society remarkable prosperity.

This led people to develop their own exchange traditions and practices – seeds travelled from one farmer to another, one community to another, one village to another, one society to another. For instance, a borrower did not have to pay the lender but only later, post-harvest returned to the lender double the amount (or whatever measure the community practiced) they had taken. A typical exchange practice also had a humanitarian aspect to it – for reasons of flood or drought or any other, if the crop failed, the borrower did not feel forced to return the lent amount to the lender – it was an unwritten understanding within the society. What this ultimately meant is that there was regular availability of seeds in the community.

Today, the system has been turned on its head. The control over seeds has been usurped from the farmers’ hands to the company’s control – and the farmers from the producer and master has become a mere customer bound by the company’s many conditions of restriction, rising cost and despair – all that farmers today understand clearly and suffer, but are not in a position to do anything about it.

Let us look at another example on this. Today, as the harvest begins to fall rapidly after a year or more, farmers need to change the seeds – and actually, purchase new ones. This considerably enhances the farmers’ input costs. The fall in production, is a basic failing of any crop or seed, which farmers were well aware of. However, earlier, farmers did not need to change their seeds as frequently or rapidly as they do now. And even then, farming communities had developed their own mechanisms of seed-change. At the first level, they would merely change the field (avoid growing a crop in the same field every year), and change seeds only after considerable number of years. The entire system of seed change, from concept to practice was in the farmers’ or community control, and so it continued to remain even after seed exchange. But today, with what guile and cleverness, this community practice has been taken away from their hands and turned into a practice of excessive profit of the companies.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Likewise, comparing old agri-culture and new agriculture, we can see how a farmer in their practice has gone from being a self-reliant producer to becoming a mere consumer, from being a master to becoming an employee, service provider or servant. And agri-culture which was critical or foundational to maintain the ecological balance of the earth, has through consumption and exploitation become a trade and profession. Our food crops are no longer a gift of nature but are a market product. Farmers who had a god-like status of being providers of food have today become mere service providers to large companies.

Don’t you find it strange or doesn’t it trouble you that farmers are possibly the only producers who do not determine the price of their produce, unlike manufacturing companies that fix the price of their own manufactured material, and consumers readily pay that price. Not just determine the price but also raise or lower that to suit their convenience, for profit or even as a nefarious act. We normally do not pay attention to this or choose to ignore it.

Many institutions and organisations are trying to address these issues. Of late, the growing acceptance of organic food crops have increased the demand for mountain produce – which, in any case, are organic by default, and which have allowed more and more organisations to work with farmers. For a while it appeared that, at last, we will be able to look up to the farmers and regard them for the honour that is rightfully theirs. But, in reality, has it helped?  When you look at the wider picture, you realise that this is yet another scenario of the initiative being trapped in the grips of the market and companies. Instead of re-establishing the ecological and natural values of agri-culture, organic is rapidly being assimilated into the market system. What the organisations are doing are ultimately only fighting the market within the existing market concept, instead of looking for their own markets.  It is an unequal battle where the rules are laid down by and controlled by the market. How can you battle the market in the latter’s arena?

As such, earlier the farmers cultivated for their families and communities, today they are essentially cultivating for the market. And a good test can be, to find out how many of such successful farmers wish their children to go in to farming.

If we can grasp the essence of the basic differences between agriculture and agri-culture, we will be able to see more clearly the location of local and global changes happening in farming. Hopefully, that would enable us to determine our future course of action better.

2000 2000 Biju Negi
People and their land
Pea harvest in Kee village | Photo: Prasenjeet Yadav

People and their land

Himkatha

Parts of Lahaul-Spiti and Kinnaur that fall above an elevation of 2500m are home to traditionally agro-pastoral societies. People who have combined farming and horticulture with rearing livestock as a dual source of living. Success at growing barley, a crop that can tolerate cold temperatures, allowed people to farm and hence inhabit high-altitude areas about 3,600 years ago. Agricultural land was historically held through semi-feudal arrangements – by the appointment officials who were given powers to collect taxes. Over centuries the traditional crops ranged from varieties of barley (at least four varieties that were locally known as kneu, soa, nenak, and eumo), to buckwheat (known locally as ogla and phafda or kaathu), and black peas. Horticultural produce included varieties of apricots and apples, especially in Kinnaur. In addition to helping plough farms, livestock were a source of many essentials: protein, dairy, wool and manure. The region’s remoteness and sparse population made cooperation in farming essential. Clear rules to manage water, pastures and other essential village common resources have been practiced for centuries. Farming enabled subsistence with surpluses being traded.  Such trade involved barter that was largely regional. Annual trade fairs held at Ladarcha (Spiti), Kullu and Lavi (Rampur-Bushahr) provided occasions for such exchange.

Agriculture began to transform soon after India’s independence in 1947. Himachal Pradesh witnessed land reforms in the form of four separate acts that were enacted between 1953 and 1968. In addition to a ceiling on the amount of land that could be owned individually, ownership rights of land were granted to those who had traditionally cultivated them under old semi-feudal arrangements. Land for farming was allotted to landless individuals, a landmark reform referred to as nautor. Even though there were discrepancies in land holdings and allotments, the laws ensured that almost every household owned land for agriculture. Another key factor that went on to influence farming was the setting up of cooperative societies with the aim of preventing outsiders exploiting local people because of their isolation.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Lahaul

Set to the north-east of Manali across Rohtang La, Lahaul was the most remote part of this region remaining cut-off during winter. Enterprising Lahaulis set up an informal Muleteers  society in Manali in the 1950s, where they used to come in the winters to rent mules or to work as labour. This arrangement let them fix rates they would charge and prevent any exploitation. This ran successfully without any formal support or intervention until the road over the Rohtang La was built in 1967. A Kuth Cooperative Marketing Society, established in 1959, was the first registered cooperative set up by Lahaulis in Manali in order to stabilise kuth prices and explore new markets. The roots of the kuth plant, introduced in Lahaul around 1925 from Jammu and Kashmir, has medicinal values and is a non-perishable item. Kuth cultivation was a success and probably brought local Lahauli farmers their first substantial financial gain by planting 10–15% of their fields with kuth. Though kuth prices started to decline in the 1960s, this success marked the start of the region’s experiments with commercial crops which continues to this day.

Potato was first introduced into Lahaul in 1860 by Moravian missionaries. Local climatic conditions offered an advantage as it enabled Lahualis to produce off-season vegetables. In 1965, as kuth prices began to fall, a meeting was held in Keylong where a few leading farmers of Lahaul held discussions with scientists and potato growers of Punjab. Some potato growers from Jallandhar assured the purchase of their entire first crop at rates that would give farmers higher returns than kuth. All preparation for potato cultivation were completed months before the closing of the Rohtang pass in winter. In 1966 the first batch of disease-free seed potato was exported from Lahaul. This led to the formation of the Lahaul Potato Cooperative Marketing Society (or simply, Lahaul Potato Society) in 1966 with just 20 farmers. Farmers had soon realised that potato cultivation would not be financially viable without collective action to influence the market to which all the farmers were vulnerable. The Lahaul Potato Society thus set out to procure, store and market agricultural and horticultural produce of the region. It worked closely with the Central Potato Research Institute that had come up in Shimla in 1956.  These collaborations brought in knowledge of contemporary farming techniques and access to fertilisers. By the mid-1970s potato became the most prominent produce of Lahaul, with very small portions remaining under barley and buckwheat. Seed potatoes were being marketed to Gujarat, West Bengal and Maharashtra with small amounts going as far as Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. By 1975 the Society was not only financially viable but it also started gathering assets and venturing into other services. At its peak, the Lahaul Potato Society was India’s second largest cooperative after Amul.

When prices of potatoes fell in 1979-80 and again in 1984-85, the Society lobbied with the State government to ensure a support price for their produce. The Society supported diversification through the promotion of hops cultivation in 1973-74, and later with the introduction of green peas in 1984. Cultivation of green peas picked up in the following decade, with farmers switching from potato to peas. Since green peas was perishable, the Society’s role in its marketing remained limited to offering a support price in the case of a crisis. Farmers initially sold their produce in markets directly by taking heavy risks. In time, private buyers emerged who bought green peas directly from the farms at attractive prices. This led to the expansion of green peas cultivation across Lahaul, and to surrounding areas. Currently, Lahaulis grow newer off-season vegetables like cauliflower, purple cabbage and iceberg (lettuce) which are more profitable than green peas and are also procured by private buyers. Potatoes are still cultivated, but its acreage remains marginal. The Lahaul Potato Society remains active in the region and continues to work on the principle of pooling prices, costs and risks. In its nearly 60 years of running, the Society managed to prevent political influence in its administration with its management focusing on the broader collective benefit of Lahaulis. Over the years, farming in Lahaul transformed from being a subsistence-based livelihood to a lucrative cash-crop based occupation.

Organically grown iceberg lettuce in Lahaul | Photo: Tashi Angroop

Kinnaur

Within Kinnaur we especially focus on the Hangrang valley that falls in upper Kinnaur at elevations above 2500 m. Set around the confluence of the Spiti river and Sutlej, farming in this region faced multiple challenges due to its remoteness even though it remained accessible in winter. Subsistence based farming and livestock rearing were the mainstay in the region, alongside active trade with Tibet via the Shipki La. The Indo-China war of 1962 led to the development of infrastructure along the border, but affected trade ties that the locals traditionally had with Tibet.

Apple was first introduced in Himachal Pradesh around 1916 and soon these parts were identified for horticultural development. Kinnauras were encouraged to grow temperate fruits such as apples, cherries, apricots, pears, almonds and walnuts. Kinnaur did grow potatoes, also registering a Society in 1962 and one in 1981 for upper Kinnaur, but its cultivation almost always remained marginal. Upper Kinnaur switched to green peas as a cash crop and by the late 1980s, its production was picking up. Kinnaur’s economic switch to a cash-crop based economy, thus began to take shape from the late 1980s.

In 1988, about 70% of cultivable land in Kinnaur was still under traditional crops such as buckwheat and barley, with green peas providing cash. Hill slopes had begun to be occupied by apple, which took up to 15 years to bear marketable fruits. By the mid-1990s, apple became a prominent source of livelihood. With the adoption of apple, came newer techniques of orchard management and the introduction of synthetic fertilisers and pesticides. Today, green peas cultivation remains restricted in pockets as apple plantations are fast replacing them. Farming in upper Kinnaur has almost completely switched to horticultural produce, with a rising demand for land that can be brought under apple production. This boom in apple production has become possible because of the warming of temperatures due to which the apple belt appears to have migrated higher to this cold and dry mountain zone. It is a rare example of how changing climate may have created opportunities for the community, while also creating several vulnerabilities.

Apples of Himachal Pradesh | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Spiti

Set between Lahaul to one side and Kinnaur to the other, Spiti is probably the highest and coldest part of this region. Though technically Spiti remains accessible in winter, it was the region farthest from any large town of prominence. This reflects in the fact that while Spiti too is moving from subsistence crops to cash crops, its transition is the most gradual.

The two prominent crops of this valley were barley and black peas. Spiti too experimented with potato and set up a Society in 1977, but potato production did not pick up as did in Lahaul. Many Spitian farmers felt that this was likely because the harvest of potatoes overlapped with that of barley, which was a more essential crop for subsistence. Spiti eventually began to experiment with green peas, and in the 1990s Spitian farmers traveled to Delhi for the sale of their produce. The production of green peas picked up significantly from the 2000s, when private buyers started to purchase their produce from their farms. Around 1990, barley was sown on 55% of the arable land, while peas occupied around 30%. By 2009 barley had fallen to 43% while green peas had risen to 51%, mainly by reducing cultivation of other marginal crops like black peas, wheat, masur dal, rajma and mustard that were cultivated for personal consumption. Today green peas are being cultivated in more than 75% of the fields, and most locals’ cultivating barley occasionally in a few years to fulfil household demand. The success of apple in the villages closer to Kinnaur has excited farmers to also start experimenting with apple plantation in the hope that apple orchards may eventually move even higher than Kinnaur. In 2023, a few farmers from Kee village succeeded in growing sample apples at an elevation of nearly 4000m, which has further increased hopes.

While Spiti is following a similar trajectory to Lahaul and Kinnaur in switching to cash crops, there is one aspect in which it still remains traditional. While Lahaul and Kinnaur have adopted the use of synthetic fertilisers and pesticides, Spiti has largely resisted this switch. While a decreasing interest in livestock rearing may have led farmers of Lahaul and Kinnaur with little choice, livestock rearing persists in Spiti and most farmers are skeptical of introducing synthetic supplements. Farmers buy organic livestock manure from as far as Changthang in Ladakh and are also buying poultry manure from the plains.

Apple orchards on the hill slopes of Kinnaur | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Agriculture – a story of constant change

Agriculture in the high mountains of Himachal Pradesh has evolved continuously. Improving access and connectivity made it possible for farmers to take their produce to markets. With connectivity improving over the years, farmers have taken risks with growing perishable cash crops. Sometimes these risks also bring major losses, as they did in 2023 when unforeseen weather events caused widescale damage to infrastructure affecting transportation. However, in regular years the financial returns can be attractive. The advent of technology has further led to the adoption of locally relevant technical solutions. Farmers have diversified cropping and have been open to experiments, which have brought them financial rewards. They have balanced between selling their produce to cooperatives and private buyers. Rising incomes have let them broaden their aspirations, with younger generation getting opportunities for better education and greater exposure. Access to cash has also allowed farmers to hire labour, which was previously not possible. Many parts of Lahaul are now experimenting with various forms of contract farming where the profits are shared between the landowners and the labour who manage them. Remoteness may have brought out the dynamism of the farmers of Lahaul-Spiti and Kinnaur. The success of early experiments with cash crops by a handful of farmers paved the way for the entire region. Locals were aware of the risks they were exposed to on account of their remoteness, and they countered this challenge by setting up institutions and arrangements that distributed both the risks and rewards. In the process, cultivation of traditional crops has declined and is now limited to very small pockets.

Unlike several other Himalayan regions where farming is in severe decline, farming retains its significance in the region. With nearly all households of the region involved in agriculture, it forms a key source of income. And with almost all households owning land parcels on account of land reforms, almost every family has benefited financially, even though the benefits may vary with the size of land holding. This reflects in the fact that the districts of Kinnaur and Lahaul-Spiti rank second and third in terms of per capita incomes among the districts of Himachal Pradesh, and are well above the average per capita income of the country. There is a continuous demand for land to be brought under cultivation through the extension of nautor rules. A lot of this commercial success has also been possible because of the local climate, which has allowed these regions to supply off-season produce that fetch a premium. But with rising uncertainty in weather patterns, farmers and farming stand increasingly exposed to greater risks even as people’s relation with their land remains strong.

1024 683 Multiple Authors
Shangdong to Stupa
Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

Shangdong to Stupa

Himkatha

Two years ago, during a winter vacation, I took my four-year-old daughter, Gyanzin Yeeyong Wangmo, to a Shangdong, an ancient wolf trap. I wanted to share the stories of my childhood and the experiences of our village, where people once relied heavily
on livestock for their livelihood. The Shangdong was a method used to control the wolf population and protect domestic animals from these predators. I vividly remember a day when, on my way to school, I heard a commotion—dogs barking and
people shouting. Drawn by curiosity, I arrived at the scene to find a wolf trapped and being stoned by the villagers. The reactions were mixed: some were relieved, while others, particularly the elderly, chanted “OM MANI PADME HUM,” praying for the
wolf’s soul. This ritual reflected a deep-seated ambivalence—people felt compelled to kill the wolf, but not without sorrow.

​Sharing these stories with Gyanzin made me reflect on the complex relationship between our community and wildlife. It also reminded me of the “Shangdong to Stupa” project initiated by the Nature Conservation Foundation (NCF) in 2016. The project aimed to replace these wolf traps with stupas, symbolizing a shift from harm to healing and from fear to coexistence. The first stupa was built in Chushul, and since then, six more have been constructed across Ladakh.​

​The site I visited with Gyanzin seemed a fitting location for another stupa. I reached out to Karma Sonam, the field coordinator at NCF, to discuss the possibility of incorporating this site into the project. Despite recent incidents of wolves preying on livestock in the valley, including losses within our own family, we believed that fostering a more positive attitude toward wildlife was crucial.

Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

Consecration ceremony of the newly constructed Stupa at Tharuk, July 2024

On July 20, 2024, with the collective efforts of the NCF and the villagers of Tharuk, the seventh stupa was completed near a traditional Shangdong in the Serkungchan valley. This effort, part of the “Shangdong to Stupa” project, represents a significant move towards wildlife conservation and a renewed respect for nature. The construction began on July 14, 2024, with the support of Karma Sonam, the NCF team, skilled stupa makers from Nubra, and the Tharuk villagers. The stupa was completed on July 19 and consecrated on July 20 by His Eminence Bakula Rangdol Nima Rinpoche, Khenpo Shedrup, and monks from Shachukul Monastery.

His Eminence Bakula Rangdol Nima Rinpoche, who had blessed the first stupa at Chushul in 2018, encouraged the community to live in harmony with wildlife and to cherish their natural surroundings . He commended the efforts of NCF and the Tharuk villagers, emphasizing the importance of this project as a model for other regions in Ladakh and the Himalayas, where similar traditional practices still persist.

The transformation from Shangdong to Stupa symbolizes a journey of forgiveness and a commitment to conservation. It reflects a growing awareness and respect for the delicate balance of our ecosystem, where both humans and wildlife can coexist peacefully. Through this initiative, we hope to inspire other communities to embrace compassionate and sustainable practices, ensuring a harmonious future for all beings.

Left: A local lady seeks blessings at the Stupa site in Tharuk. Right: Gyanzin Yeeyong Wangmo at the Shangdong to Stupa site in Tharuk

2560 1920 Dr. Stanzin Namgial
Changes in Agriculture (Ladakh)
Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

Changes in Agriculture (Ladakh)

Himkatha

The rapid shift away from agriculture to other economic activities is a common trend in many agrarian economies globally, often driven by factors such as urbanization, changing lifestyles, and economic opportunities outside the agricultural sector. Agriculture in Ladakh is no exception.

In the traditional Ladakhi farming and food system, the sun provided the primary energy, enabling plant growth, muscle-based labour power and fast-flowing water for milling and irrigating. The fertility of the soil and crops came from recycling of manure and compost (lut, chulut, and the like) into the fields and from minerals in the glacial melt-water. ‘Packaging’ – if any – was in the form of hand-made woolen sacks, wooden and clay vessels, willow baskets, and masonry granaries, all of which could be safely returned to the soil after they wore out. Transportation of the crops was done with muscle power, and cooking done with local renewable fuels like dung cakes or wood sticks. Care was taken to conserve pasturelands through rotational grazing, and farmers tried to minimise harm done even to insects in the fields. The ecological footprint – meaning total ecological impacts including energy and water consumption, waste generation, etc. – was very low. In current terms, we could say that the traditional Ladakhi farming and food system was solar-powered, zero-external input, zero-waste, regenerative, closed-loop, and sustainable!

Today, while much of the traditional farming and food system continues to exist, it is steadily being eroded by a number of profound socio-economic changes. The environmental impacts of these changes are increasing year by year.

One of the important changes has been the decline of villages due to various reasons and the decline in farming-pastoralism systems that sustained them for centuries. The growth of tourism, the army, and competitive education have combined to drain young people, and young men in particular, out of the villages and into Leh, or even further away. As a result, there is less total labour available, and more farming work has fallen on village women and paid labour. Many fields that were once lush and green in the summers today lie fallow for lack of people to work them. With fewer people, livestock herds have decreased significantly, and in the case of goats and sheep nearly disappeared from many villages. While this change may have benefitted wild herbivores to some extent by reducing competition for forage, it has also reduced the amount of rich, organic local manure available for soil and crop nutrition. To make up for this, many farmers turn to the use of synthetic fertilisers which pollute both water and air, and are very energy-intensive to manufacture from fossil fuels.

Crops & Water

The decline of agriculture is also seen in the reduction of diversity in crops including pulses, cereals and pseudo cereals like buckwheat (although efforts are slowly being made to bring back buckwheat). Fewer local pulses like the traditional black bean in Ladakhi fields and kitchens diminishes the health of the local diet as well as local soils. Pulses naturally fix atmospheric nitrogen into the soil, so when they are planted there is no need for nitrogen fertilisers. Without them, however, an important source of natural fertility is lost. In terms of oilseeds, whereas Ladakhis formerly cultivated local mustard more extensively and produced much of their own edible oil, today mustard farming is also declining. Commercial edible oils, packaged in plastic bottles and trucked in from the Indian plains are now widely used in Ladakhi kitchens.

In the 14,000-foot village of Gya, farmers used to cultivate different varieties of barley because the area’s climate was conducive to their growth. Because of the region’s low temperatures, wheat is rarely grown in Ladakh’s eastern region. The people in that same region are currently cultivating over thirty-six to thirty-seven different kinds of grains and vegetables. Acho Urgain, from Gya village, says that this may be because he has access to a wider range of plants these days. He is cultivating new crops like quinoa, and Tse Tse (Foxtail millet), which are native Ladakh millets that are rarely grown these days. Since 2014, green peas have been grown extensively throughout Ladakh because of factors including climate change that favours such crops, but more importantly because of increasing commercialisation of agriculture, as green peas have high market demand inside and outside Ladakh. A variety of relatively novel vegetables are today grown, such as cauliflower, cabbage, beetroot, and various turnip varieties.

One of the many changes in agriculture that people in the mountains are facing is a lack of water, especially during times of great need.  It is imperative that water be given to the fields by the end of March or the start of April. Variable weather patterns cause glaciers to hold onto water by not melting during the seeding season. June 21st marks the change of the days, so in July there will still be a water shortage. Another impact of climate change on agriculture is from increasing likelihood and severity of glacial lake outburst floods, which have had catastrophic impacts on downstream villages, such as in Gya village in 2007, 2009, and 2014.

Land use

The perspective of agri-entrepreneur Rinchen Yutol from Reetsot in Ladakh highlights the rapid changes in the past decade, which may present both challenges and opportunities.

The conversion of agricultural lands into concrete structures poses a significant challenge, and reversing this process is often impractical. This irreplaceable loss reduces self-reliance in food and increases dependency on imported foods. Such dependency increases vulnerability in the case of any disruptions (like fuel shortages, or road closures) in the transportation network across the Himalaya. Additionally, the fragmentation of agricultural lands due to nuclear families can further reduce the overall agricultural land use.

Chortens and fields of Markha | Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Fertilisers

Synthetic fertilisers have been used in Ladakh since about the late 1970s, supplied by the government at highly subsidised rates. Three main synthetic fertilisers are used: urea, DAP (diammonium phosphate), and MOP (Muriate of Potash/potassium chloride). Data from the Agriculture Department and Mission Organic Development Initiative of Ladakh show that in general, quantities of synthetic fertiliser use are decreasing in Ladakh. This trend is reflective of the Hill Council’s new vision to make Leh District fully organic within 10 years. This is very encouraging, since the more fertilisers are used, the more they disrupt the availability of natural nitrogen in the soil, which requires more fertilisers – a chemical addiction!

Besides the loss of livestock manure, the shift to flush toilets and septic tanks accompanying tourism – especially but not only in Leh – is also depriving the soil of rich human manure from traditional compost toilets.

To supplement local supplies, there are new initiatives to bring animal manure from Changthang for use in villages in the farming districts of Ladakh, and the government is also importing organic manure from Punjab. While this is certainly a welcome change from chemical fertilisers, transporting manure and compost also carries an environmental cost in terms of fuel consumption and diesel smoke exhaust. A future challenge will therefore be to generate organic manure and compost closer to where it is to be used, to reduce transport costs and pollution, and to keep valuable local nutrients recycling through local soils. Aggressive promotion of compost toilets, restaurant and residential food scrap collection and composting, and other initiatives could play a role in regenerating the local compost economy.

Seeds

One of the most crucial factors to consider when examining the changes in any region’s agriculture is the seed. The availability of native or local seeds is impacted by the decline in production of native or older crops. The majority of seeds for vegetables that are currently offered by the government or in the market are or hybrid seeds, which have the potential to alter the agricultural landscape of Ladakh, and have implications for the food sovereignty of the region and the economic independence of its farmers.

Traditional threshing of harvest in Lamayuru | Photo:Wikimedia Commons

Mechanisation

Dependence on fossil fuel energy has also been increasing in agriculture and pastoralism, as traditional tools, draught animals and techniques are replaced by mechanical, gas-powered threshing machines, mills, ploughs, tractors, etc. In Changthang, pick-up trucks and jeeps are steadily replacing draught animals, which impact the topsoil of the rangelands. This transition also increases dependency on the money economy and outside jobs to pay for hiring or buying the machines and the fuel to power them.

Conclusion

The shift away from the traditional farming and food system in Ladakh, combined with forces like tourism, is clearly having very undesirable environmental impacts. If both public health and the environment are being degraded by this shift, then maybe it is time to rethink, change direction and regenerate the local food economy. How could this happen? The Hill Council’s commitment to making Ladakh an organic farming region is a very encouraging first step. Additionally, the optimism and enthusiasm shown by individuals like Acho Urgain and Rinchen Youtol are encouraging. Their deep understanding of the importance of agriculture in the current era, both economically and beyond, suggests a potential for positive change. Initiatives that focus on sustainable and innovative agricultural practices, coupled with educational programs to raise awareness about the significance of agriculture, can contribute to the revival and retention of this essential sector. In what other ways can the government and local people support such a change, discouraging packaged junk food while encouraging a return to traditional crops, restoration of livestock herds, village renewal, and so on? How can arable land be protected in perpetuity for farming? Can modern farm machines be powered by local, renewable energy? How can young people addicted to junk food rediscover and revalue healthy local foods? What role can tourists play in supporting local, organic food and farming? These and many other questions will need to be urgently answered.

1440 960 Alex Jensen
Unveiling an Enigmatic Jewel: Sea Buckthorn

Unveiling an Enigmatic Jewel: Sea Buckthorn

Himkatha

Nestled high amidst the majestic peaks of the Himalayas lies a hidden treasure, a rare and mystical berry known as sea buckthorn. Revered for its extraordinary nutritional profile and therapeutic properties, this vibrant orange jewel has captivated the hearts and taste buds of travellers and locals alike. Join me on a journey of discovery as we delve into the intriguing world of sea buckthorn, unearthing its rich history, cultural significance, and the myriad ways in which it contributes to sustainable living and a holistic lifestyle.

I came across the sea buckthorn berry around three years ago, when my friend and I were searching for a picnic spot in the hidden valleys of Spiti, Himachal Pradesh. We had heard about a beautiful flowing freshwater stream where we could bathe and cook food on woodfire. Our plan was to find this spot. My friend, Yangzom, and I ended up hiking for about 1.5-2 hours and on the way stumbled across thorny shrubs that kept pricking our legs and lower body. We got extremely annoyed and cursed the shrubs since they were growing along the entire stretch. When we looked closely, we saw that they had small orange-yellow berries. At first, we were hesitant to try them, but when we did, they tasted tangy (a citrusy burst of flavour). We plucked many for our way back home. It was very difficult to even try plucking them due to the thorny branches. We managed to bring some back and when we inquired about them with a local, we learnt that these were sea buckthorn berries and they had superfood properties. This was the same berry being sold at the Himalayan cafes and homestays in the form of teas, juices and jams.

Illustration: Nawang Tankhe

The human consumption of sea buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoides) dates back thousands of years. Revered in traditional Tibetan and ayurvedic medicine, it has been treasured for its remarkable healing properties. Growing abundantly in the Himalayan region, sea buckthorn is an integral part of the local culture, where it is known by various names such as tirhuk and lehtar. The berry is known to be a nutritional powerhouse.  They are a potent source of vitamins, including vitamin C, E, and beta-carotene, which support a robust immune system and promote healthy skin. Rich in essential fatty acids, such as omega-3, -6, -7, and -9, sea buckthorn nourishes the body from within, benefiting cardiovascular health and aiding in the management of cholesterol levels.

In traditional medicine, sea buckthorn has been revered as a natural remedy for various ailments. Its oil, extracted from the berries, is highly sought-after for its potent antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties. This golden elixir is used topically to heal wounds, soothe sunburns, and combat the signs of aging. When ingested, sea buckthorn oil aids in digestion, reduces inflammation, and promotes healthy liver function.

Beyond its remarkable health benefits, sea buckthorn plays a crucial role in sustainable travel and environmental conservation. This hardy shrub thrives in high altitudes, growing in the harsh and barren landscape, and helping to prevent soil erosion. Its roots anchor the soil, while its branches create natural windbreaks, protecting delicate ecosystems. Harvesting sea buckthorn berries provides a supplementary income to local communities, encouraging the preservation of traditional Himalayan farming practices.

The tangy and slightly astringent flavour of sea buckthorn has found its way into the culinary world, captivating chefs and food enthusiasts alike. The berries are used to create delightful jams, syrups, and sauces, lending a burst of vibrant colour and a refreshing acidity to dishes. Sea buckthorn tea is cherished for its invigorating taste, while innovative mixologists are crafting enticing cocktails featuring this Himalayan gem.

Immerse yourself in the awe-inspiring beauty of the Himalayas as you embark on a journey to discover sea buckthorn in its natural habitat. Trek through breath-taking landscapes, where the shimmering orange berries cling to branches, contrasting against the snowy peaks. Engage with local communities and witness their time-honoured techniques of harvesting and processing sea buckthorn, gaining a deeper appreciation for their sustainable way of life. You don’t have to travel to the Himalayas to incorporate the benefits of sea buckthorn into your everyday life. Seek out products infused with sea buckthorn oil, such as skincare items and supplements, to harness its rejuvenating and immune-boosting properties. Experiment with sea buckthorn-infused recipes and drinks to add a nutritious twist to your culinary repertoire.

The enigmatic sea buckthorn, with its vibrant colour, remarkable health benefits, and deep cultural roots, is a true embodiment of sustainable travel and holistic lifestyle. Its presence in the Himalayas enriches the local communities and provides an opportunity for travellers to experience the wonders of this ancient berry. Let the allure of sea buckthorn ignite your curiosity and inspire you to explore the world, one sustainable and wellness-infused adventure at a time.

1545 2000 Sheetansh
Living at the Edge: Plants of High Himalayas
Ajania fruticulosa | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Living at the Edge: Plants of High Himalayas

Himkatha
Ajania fruticulosa | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Whenever we say Himalayas, we instantly picture majestic snow-covered peaks, rugged slopes, extreme weather conditions which are characterised by strong winds and a dry landscape. An old proverb says, ‘The land is so barren and passes so high that only the best of friends and fiercest of enemies would want to visit us.’ It is hard to imagine how such an environment can harbour any plant life. However, these mountains support a stunning array of plants adapted to survive at high altitudes and in harsh climates. These landscapes are marked by vast temperature differences, strong winds, high ultraviolet rays, a short-growing season, and rugged terrain of the high Himalayas.

One such high Himalayan region is Ladakh, situated in the western Himalayas, and is the crown of the Indian sub-continent. Relatively untouched and unexplored, Ladakh is a paradise for botanical exploration. Numerous researchers have attempted to study and record the diversity of plant species of this region. A staggering 1,250 varieties of vascular plants have been identified so far.

Acontholimon lycopodiodes | Photo: Thinles Chondol

Just as we humans have a circulation system that delivers oxygen to our cells and takes away waste, several plants have a highly developed built-in transport system for nutrients and water. Such plants are called vascular plants. Vascular plants in the high Himalayas have evolved specialised mechanisms that let them survive in extreme weather conditions.

Plants grow in a variety of habitats in the high Himalayas: arid steppe, severely dry semi-desert and desert, alpine grasslands and screes, riverbanks, and subnival, and wetlands.

Photo (Left to Right): Steppe habitat, Alpine Grassland

Steppes are characterised by hot and arid conditions. Plants growing in steppes are adapted to survive frequent droughts.

Alpine habitats are characterised by colder and moist conditions, comprising of grasslands and scree.

Subnival habitats occur just below the permanent snowline, and they are characterised by extreme cold and moist conditions. Temperature in such habitats may drop to sub-zero even during the summer months.

Semi-desert and desert are severely hot and dry habitats that comprise of sparse vegetation.

Riverbanks are patches adjoining streams and rivers composed of silts and sand that are held together by the plant growth.

Wetlands are characterised by the presence of excess water resulting from snowfall, melted glaciers or natural springs and lakes, that support plant growth.

Steppe and desert plants face frequent heat and drought stress due to low precipitation and dry conditions. Studies show that such plants have adapted to this stress by behaving like a drought escaper. They grow near streams where water is sufficient or develop drought enduring characteristics such as growing long and deep roots to absorb water.

Plants of the alpine and subnival zones face extreme cold stress which limits their ability to grow, restricting their growing period to a short span (usually 3-4 months). Plants in these zones adapt, remaining dwarfed or growing in cushion or mat-form. They grow close to the surface of the ground, where the temperature is relatively warmer.

Plants in high Himalayas are highly specialized and have remarkable adaptations to endure extreme conditions. They tend to have a massive belowground root system that stores the photosynthetic product (carbohydrates) for the prolonged winter months when they are devoid of the photosynthetic organs (leaves). Most of the plants in highest elevations do not grow high, as the temperature near the ground is warmer, and protect them from strong winds. Some also have a hairy-body (with trichomes), which protects them from the strong UV radiation, and act as extreme heat protectant.

Thylacospermum caespitosum

(Common name: Golden Alpine Sandwort; Local Ladakhi name: Tagaracan) grow as cushion plants, growing only at the highest evelations in subnival vegetation zone. They grow very tightly packed with each other, very close to the surface or sometimes even on boulders. This type of adaptation is to endure extreme cold conditions. Photo: Thinles Chondol

Aster flaccidus

(common name: Wild Aster; Local Ladakhi name: Nia-mentok) also grows just a few centimeters tall above the soil surface to prevent from cold. Also it has its leaves growing in a rosette form, which is another adaptation to prevent from cold stress.
Photo: Sam Diederichs

Saussurea gnaphalodes

(Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local Ladakhi name: Yuliang) have hair-like structures on its leaves and flowers, which is an adaptation to prevent from high solar radiations (Ultaviolet rays)
Photo by Thinles Chondol

Potentilla pamerica

It shows vast belowground roots compared to its aboveground growth. Photo: Thinles Chondol

Saussurea gnaphalodes

(Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local Ladakhi name: Yuliang) have hair-like structures on its leaves and flowers, which is an adaptation to prevent from high solar radiations (Ultaviolet rays)
Photo: Thinles Chondol

Some examples of typical plants from different habitats of Ladakh

Plants have a very small part of their structure – the stems, leaves, and flowers – exposed above ground. The relatively larger structures – mainly roots and root hairs grow below the ground.  Some plants have rhizomes: a rootlike, thick and usually horizontal underground that produces shoots above and roots below. The deep root system protects them from wind stress by providing anchorage, food storage, and water absorption.

These plants have a specialised architecture with a well-developed belowground system, where they store carbohydrates that help them survive long winters until the next growing season. The small aboveground shoot system helps them tolerate extreme cold. They even develop unique freeze tolerance by moving the water in their cells to the intercellular spaces. These plants tend to replace their organs in extreme conditions and keep their meristematic tissue, which is responsible for plant growth, near the soil surface so that growth can begin when the conditions become favourable again. This is because growing season at these high elevations usually span for only a few months, in which these plants must complete various annual processes such as growth, flowering, reproduction, and so on.

Root cross-section (30 microns) of Penstemon venustus | Photo: Wikimedia commons

Annual secondary growth rings in roots help study growth and determine the age of herbaceous plants. In years with unfavourable conditions this growth is affected leading to narrow rings, while in a growing season with favourable conditions rings growth is wider. This field of study is called herbchronology.

Due to the short growth season, they have slow metabolism, hence most plants here live for more than 2 years. They are very resource efficient and invest less energy in reproductive growth but more in vegetative growth. Many of these plants reproduce clonally, rather than investing in flowering and seed production.

Moreover, there are various other characteristics particular to the alpine plants that help them survive in harsh climatic conditions. These include variable photosynthesis rate, which is usually lowest in the early growing season and highest in the mid growing season. Plants in alpine zones also are hairy, usually with flowers surrounded with bracts. These hairs appear silver-grey or white appearance on the plant (Saussurea gnaphalodes – Common name: Cudweed Saw-Wort; Local name: Yuliang as shown in Box 4), that helps in reflecting the solar radiation, thus reducing the impact of hard sun rays and thermal security.

The Himalayan ecosystem is dynamic and the impact of climatic fluctuations due to global and local change is visible. These are being seen in terms of rising unpredictability in summer and winter precipitation, as well as changing minimum and maximum temperatures. Changes in the natural system impacts plants as their habitats shift or shrink. The growth rate of alpine plants is also impacted by climate fluctuations, which is seen in the form of annual secondary growth rings in their root collar, like we see rings in the woody species.

High Himalayan plants stand as awe-inspiring testaments to the resilience and adaptability of life in some of the most extreme environments on Earth. These unique floras have evolved over millennia to thrive in harsh alpine conditions, conquering freezing temperatures, thin air, and intense sunlight.

1932 2576 Thinles Chondol
Juniper: The Sacred Conifer
A sacred Lha-to in Nubra Valley | Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper: The Sacred Conifer

Himkatha

Shukpa or Juniper (Juniperus spp.)  is a distinct evergreen tree, sometimes a shrubby tree, that belongs to the conifer group of gymnosperms. Known to grow at the highest elevations on earth, juniper is well distributed all over the Northern Hemisphere from Arctic to the tropics, and most abundantly in the temperate regions of Europe, North America and Himalayan ranges in Asia.

Ecologically, juniper is an important species in the fragile cold desert ecosystem. It survives freezing temperatures and grows luxuriantly in the cold arid climate, on rugged high-altitude slopes of Ladakh. Juniper plays a significant role in supporting different life-forms of the cold desert ecosystem including crawling insects, chirping birds and busy rodents. Juniper berries and leaves are food for many. It acts as soil binding agent preventing soil erosion. The blooming juniper growing along jagged terrain of the Himalaya gives an enchanting green hue to the stark cold desert landscape, otherwise barren and snow covered for most part of the year.

Ladakh is bestowed with three species of the genus Juniperus i.e. J. polycarpos (Himalayan Pencil Cedar), J. recurva (Weeping Blue Juniper) and J. communis (Common Juniper). Juniper species have a sparse distribution in Ladakh. Among the three species, Himalayan Pencil Cedar is characterised by its 2 to 5 seeded, bluish-black cone and is restricted to high mountain valleys of Sham and Nubra region in Leh district at an altitude of 7,000-14,000 ft. The Common Juniper having 3 seeded blue-black cones is found abundantly along Zojila and Batalik hills (5,400-14,000ft.), while the Weeping Blue Juniper, which is popular for its one seeded brown-purple cone, is found along the alpine slopes of Kargil at 7,500-12,500 feet.

Ladakh is one of the few places in India to find junipers. All three species are locally known as Shukpa among the Buddhist communities and Chilgi among the Brokpa tribes of Ladakh. Of the three flourishing junipers, the Himalayan Pencil Cedar has immense socio-cultural and religious significance for the people of Ladakh and is considered a sacred tree among the Buddhists. The rich culture, tradition and festivals, especially Losar – traditional New Year in Ladakh witnesses use of the fragrant juniper.

Some important uses of juniper, particularly the Himalayan Pencil Cedar in Ladakh include:

Juniper for decorating Lha-thos

People of Ladakh and Tibet used green twigs of junipers to decorate Lha-thos, a typical structure comprising of a bunch of juniper twigs – Lha-shuk fixed in between the rock edges or in a small square wall made of clay, bricks or/and stone, at the elevated top of a hill or roof.

The term Lha-thos is derived from the words Lha that stands for a divine spirit or deity and thos meaning a square wall. As per Buddhist mythology, people consider Lha-thos to be a shrine of divine beings that reside there and protect people from evil spirits and undesired incidents. Lha-thos are decorated annually during Losar that usually falls in the month of December. During this event, it is customary to replace old juniper twigs at Lha-thos with fresh bunches. The Lha-thos and Lha-shings are subsequently worshiped by offering phoks – juniper incense and kalcholr – a sacred barley drink and the illumination of earthen lamps containing apricot oil.

People are prohibited from any sort of unhygienic or unlawful activity around these structures. It is commonly believed that Lha-thos and its surrounding areas must be kept clean, as infuriating a Lha could bring bad luck on the polluter. In the event of a defilement, local people rush to call the local priests – Lamas, who then perform exceptional prayers known as Lhabsangs to purify the guilty from their sins and to sanitize the area.

Juniper as incense

Owing to the pleasant aroma of juniper twigs, they are commonly used as an incense. Raw coal or dried dung cakes are placed in an earthen bowl locally called as phokspor specially designed for this purpose. Dried, crushed leaves and twigs of shukpa are put over the burning coal which produces a distinct smell. It is now known that this aromatic fragrance is due to presence of essential oils, terpenoids, diterpenoids and some phenolic compounds. People mix shukpa with several other plant products such as khampa (Tanacetum sp.), palu (Waldheimia glabra) and siyah mentok (flowers of Rosa foetida and R. webbiana) to use as an incense.

Owing to the pleasant aroma of juniper twigs, they are commonly used as an incense. Raw coal or dried dung cakes are placed in an earthen bowl locally called as phokspor specially designed for this purpose. Dried, crushed leaves and twigs of shukpa are put over the burning coal which produces a distinct smell. It is now known that this aromatic fragrance is due to presence of essential oils, terpenoids, diterpenoids and some phenolic compounds. People mix shukpa with several other plant products such as khampa (Tanacetum sp.), palu (Waldheimia glabra) and siyah mentok (flowers of Rosa foetida and R. webbiana) to use as an incense.

Cultural Heritage

Cultural heritage and sacredness of Juniper is depicted in several ladakhi folk songs that describe its value. For instance a stanza from a popular folk song goes:

Ladakhi

Ka langtakh yahgi ni tsamsteh ruhh
Pa lalu rulugsteh ruh chehnn
Ka langtakh yahgi ni tsamsteh ruhh
Yah lalu rulugsteh ruh chehnn
​
Pa lalu Yalu tahng majalahh
La lashing shkpa tangh jaal
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Stang chhogi Layul lang jung
​
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Yog djugs ki luyul lang jung
La lashing shukpa weh tuludpa woh
Par choggs ki charms yul lanh jung

English

Along the foothills of huge mountains
Went in search of Palu (aromatic plant)
Along the foothills of huge mountains
Went in search of Yalu (a plant)
​
Palu and Yalu could not be found
The tree of Juniper appeared
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the upper world (heaven) of god
​
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the god of under-earth
The fragrant smoke of trees, Juniper
Spread to the middle world (earth)

Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper in Buddhist Monasteries

The sun dried and finely powdered twigs and leaves of juniper along with other material including some precious stones locally known as yuh, churu and motig are used to fill the inner hollow space of Buddhist statues or idols made from special local clay called markalaga. This amalgam is known as zungs.

Medicinal use of juniper

Local healers use juniper in the traditional Amchi system of medicine. The whole plant is used in treatment of nervous disorders, heart related diseases and kidney disorders. The plant is also used as an antibiotic for animals and for repelling flies.

Juniper in Buddhist Monasteries

The sun dried and finely powdered twigs and leaves of juniper along with other material including some precious stones locally known as yuh, churu and motig are used to fill the inner hollow space of Buddhist statues or idols made from special local clay called markalaga. This amalgam is known as zungs.

Medicinal use of juniper

Local healers use juniper in the traditional Amchi system of medicine. The whole plant is used in treatment of nervous disorders, heart related diseases and kidney disorders. The plant is also used as an antibiotic for animals and for repelling flies.

Photo: Konchok Dorjay

Juniper as timber

Juniper wood is carved out for making Lak-shing, a wooden plate for covering Buddhist manuscripts. The Lak-shing is usually rectangular with an average length of 30-60 and 12-20 cm width. These are varnished or painted and/or decorated with some sacred paintings. Since juniper wood is believed to be strong, durable and highly resistant, large wooden logs of shukpa were historically used in erecting pillars, making door and window frames in monasteries.

Juniper in making of household articles

Twigs of juniper are used for making nose-ring locally called sNachu for yaks. Similarly, its wood is carved out to make a multi-purpose container, locally called zem used for storing barley wine, curd and wheat flour.

Threats and conservation status

It is unfortunate that despite its significance the sacred juniper is under threat. Multiple uses of juniper have led to a continuous demand in cultural, traditional and religious rituals. The Himalayan Pencil Cedar is placed under the Least Concerned (LC) category for conservation but was reported as declining in its natural habitat with severely fragmented populations in 2011.

One of the most potent threats is, perhaps, the use of juniper leaves and twigs in religious and cultural rituals. The extensive use of juniper as an aromatic incense is common with collection peaking on the eve of Losar for decoration of Lha-thos. Other biotic pressures include damage to young seedlings from livestock grazing, especially during winter when plants enter senescence. This pressure is compounded by the fact that juniper shows very poor regeneration, extremely low seed viability and long seed dormancy. These factors are barriers in its propagation and growth.

There is scope for better planning and management if we wish to improve the status of juniper population in Ladakh. While everyone expresses concern over the conservation, propagation and management of juniper, there is little action backing this concern. Irresponsible collection of wild junipers is rampant as Losar approaches each year. There is hardly any effort to monitor collection or any legal action taken against those in violation of wildlife protection laws. A combination of anthropogenic pressures, abiotic factors arising from changing climate, and the local socio-cultural significance of juniper, makes it necessary to prioritise the conservation of juniper patches across Ladakh. Junipers share a deep link with Ladakh’s indigenous culture, religion and ecology. There is an urgent need to better understand the status of local populations of juniper, degree of anthropogenic pressure, and future prospects and propagation techniques if we are to protect this cultural keystone.

How can we conserve our junipers?

  1. Design and enforce strict communal laws to monitor and prevent irresponsible collection and sale of juniper twigs, especially during Losar.
  2. Organise workshops, conferences and campaigns in both rural and urban areas to educate and create awareness among people.
  3. Increase research to improve our understanding of seed germination and juniper propagation techniques.
  4. Develop and implement an effective management plan backed with adequate support for propagation of juniper trees.

As individuals we must,

  1. Limit merciless cutting and selling of juniper twigs and encourage others for the same
  2. Remain careful when our livestock grazes in juniper forest and surrounding areas
  3. Educate and aware our friends, relatives, neighbours and villagers about the importance of juniper in our religion, culture and its role in fragile ecology. Discuss the values of juniper in Ladakhi society among the youth, especially in schools.
1200 898 Dr. Konchok Dorjey
Close