Where our stories formed

ISAAC TSETAN GERGAN

WHILE growing up we cherished stories, and now as active players in community and society, we are listeners, narrators and creators of stories. The ‘story’ encompasses our life and often is a marker of life being lived. Looking at stories in Ladakh, we soon realise the expanse of the influences that make a story what it is today. From oral traditions, written stories, to plays being performed, and for all these to make their way to everyday life.

Through the selection of topics, through photographs and descriptions, we look at music, domestic spaces (the kitchen), the apricot and local foods, the land, architecture, cultural spaces and religions, crafts, and the quotidian life. These topics are presented as keepers of story, initiators of story or space where the story is exhibited and shared. They provide the context and stage and often are equally important to get a full sense of the stories. As a people, stories find belonging and are personalized through these spaces, a story that was once told far away, suddenly becomes part of one’s home, one’s memory.

The photographic compilations are composed of stills from the span of Ladakh and through different seasons. Winter to Spring, Autumn to Summer from Zanskar to Leh, and Kargil to Nubra. The compilation seeks to find spaces for perspectives we can open and share about culture and history. It seeks to build meaningful bridges, open ended, nudging even at newer perspectives. Photographs here work only as hints to the elements of Ladakh that connect it with the grander story of its people.

Music rhythm to life: A long note of the surna (local clarinet) drew us in, the undulating beats of the daman (drums) grounded us, the soft melody of the damyan elevated our consciousness before the first lyrics of the songstress set the context at a waterfall on a mystical mountain.

Photos from Farol and Turtuk, Nubra.

Musical instruments and songs have been used to tell stories. Across cultures there are forms of music that have played a role in narrating and expressing. Similarly, in Ladakh, music ties with the oral traditions of storytelling. From domestic spaces to communities, from personal spaces to religious occasions, music brings stories to life. The fields too have their songs, the hails of the farmers add rhythm to repetitive tasks like de-weeding. The songs sung in the past are sung today, and as we build on these repositories, we build the story of a community and a civilization.

Photos from Yulchung, Zanskar and the Balti Heritage Home in Farol-Turtuk, Nubra.

Photos from Garkhon, Kargil, Turtuk and Leh market.

Continuing legacies: The chiselled wood work, blackened by soot, shaped carefully by hands; there is a trace of life that lives in architecture, in spaces it creates for people to survive and thrive. A bustling kitchen is quotidian to many cultures and civilizations. Similarly, in Ladakh, it is often the prominent space, used for gatherings both of family and guests.

The hearth around which the gatherings are attracted has its story of introduction by German missionaries in the late 1800s. Vessels of stone, bronze, copper and silver ornate the kitchen space, adding to the layers of meaning and story. In the gatherings, stories are told from present day happenings, about families, to the great sagas that are told over a fortnight. The vessels, the hearth, pillars and columns, walls and all in an earshot distance are keepers of these stories. Perhaps they would retell their stories in whispers to the attentive listener.

As broths boil and ingredients from the fields are prepared with family recipes, the past is honoured and celebrated. A legacy continues over a meal shared and the story continues.

Story of the apricot: In late winter, when the ground is broken after the coldest months in Ladakh, there comes alive a story of steady growth and nurturing. Life is not easy in the mountains; it takes much more for a sapling to grow. Carefully cultivated fields and diligently carved waterways nourish each plant. Each action is informed by farming knowledge and traditions passed down for generations. The seeds grow, tended well by caring hands.

The apricot trees awaken with blossoms in early spring. This spectacle causes a resurgence of life, it welcomes the summer as its petals ride the April winds. The apricot tree inspires songs and poetry, invites children to pluck the low hanging fruits, hosts the chipping quick winged birds, and gives beyond itself, each part of it having value. As April breeze carries blossoms across the valleys, it is as if messages are carried with it. In fables, historical accounts, and poetry, the tree is a teller of the time of year. Similarly, along paths and on mountain sides, the tree’s shade or even its trunk often becomes a resting place. And we know how resting places are often where stories are exchanged, where local gossip is transmitted, but it is also where stories are made. It is so often in the stoppage, where we hear of most of the journey’s events, a tent pitched, a fire kindled, a meal made, and an
evening spent.

Finally, in late summer when orange dots appear in the green cover-ings, there is an invitation. Children climb the trees and nibble the still sour apricots. ‘Still a few more weeks,’ the elders say. When ripe, the apricots fall as though showers from above and soon are collected by the dwellers of
the region. Each apricot brings to the palette, the earthiness of soil and sweetness of the mountain springs.

It is long before the story of an apricot ends. The apricot is had in its many ways, fresh or dried. The fruit leaves behind its seed and a kernel is found when cracked open. The kernel has a variety of uses and apricot oil is made from it. The produce of the tree is bottled till next harvest.

A story formed long before us: The formations of these mountains from the bed of seas to touching clouds is where the story of this land begins. The rocks carry the memory of a million years. A geologist reads it well and perhaps the occasional traveller in remote mountains finds a fossil and wonders about the journey of these mountains.

These are the rocks that build the stories of this region. An introduction written since the beginnings, today it is the silent guide, a listener, a teacher, a healer, and a testament to many in its proximity. It was here way before us and will be here long after.

Photos from Lingshed and Nyeraks, Zanskar.

Land is the single most important aspect of our stories. It is a repository, a memory, a muse, and is a story of the people on it. As it is toiled and laboured on, as flocks move across to higher pastures and is grazed upon, as the most fragile yet the most resilient plants grow, there is a constant river of a story, of humanity and of a testament of survival in some of the harshest conditions. From the medicinal plants that grow out of it, to the prettiest of flowers that call the bees, to the land that is cultivated for food, we remember a story of ourselves, of our history and of ancient knowledge, passed down over centuries. The land then is a keeper of our stories, nudging us when we might feel lost, giving belonging and telling of its own journey from the oceans to the mountains. It tells of the people who walked on it: Those who came from afar for trade, relatives from across the region, folks on pilgrimages, and even the travellers from far off worlds. The land is what provides for the house, for livelihoods, for food, and the stories within it make it a home.

Architecture: a record keeper and a storyteller: Formally examined, it is easy to notice the use of wood, mud, and stone in traditional architecture. The houses while in essence remain similar, reflect a diverse range of influences in its details and shapes. The carvings on wooden lintels, the numerical significance of beams, pillars and other elements are linked to belief systems. Identity influenced by religion permeates the expressions in architecture.

Agrarian lifestyles played a signifi-cant role in influencing the design of a house that has practical solutions to weather conditions and maintenance. Sometimes, older houses speak of their historic relevance. In the case of a royal house in Turtuk, it was used as a shelter for the army personnel during war, returned to the family only much later.

Photos from Old Town Leh and Farol and Turtuk, Nubra

The walls keep record, perhaps as secrets. Every component of traditional homes showcases influences of a time in history and tells a story of life in mountains, of a culture and community, ingenious solutions, and influences of faraway lands in a once bustling trade town on the ancient Silk Route.

Today with our concrete structures and high rising metal pillars and long beams, it’s not really the same. It is a story foreign to the land. Even as a 16th century home neighbours a 21st century home, we find a culture being thrown off balance.

A performance of an age-old battle: Surely there are many stories that tell of battles between the good and the evil, of victories and defeats. Religious festivals are a grand time. People from far flung areas visit the town or the monastery. Religious gatherings bring people together. Friends see each other after months and families get together. This is a time to share stories. The masked dancers, the rituals, textiles, and their meanings are the many stories that make faith. Here in the cold winter Dosmoche is celebrated as a procession of mask dances passing through crowds in the Leh market.

Photo from a Dosmoche procession in Leh town.

A story’s birth in the hands of an artisan: Early morning an array of tools are opened and laid in front of the craftsman. The material is ready to meet its master and be turned into a valuable work of art. Artisans across the region have developed a range of crafts over centuries, from stone and metal work, textiles, woodwork to even more ingenious ones like a craftsman working with ibex horns.

Photos from Turtuk.

Photos from Leh town, Yulchung, and Turtuk.

As these crafts pass down from generations, they take new shapes and forms. Designs are replicated and added. They tell a story of the people, material, and the land. It is celebrated through these crafts on shelves of guest rooms or worn on special occasions. The craft ties a peoples’ group to a story, culture, and history in a unique way. From its birth in the hands of a craftsman, it represents and tells a story, of the maker, the craft and the heritage of the land and its people. The day ends and as the craftsman leaves, the tools look at each other, content in their mastery.

The story of everyday: As the cold night ends and dawn appears, smoke from chimneys rises across the valley. The frost of the night evaporates, and a thin veil covers the town. Sleepy eyes look out the window at the bright azure sky. The morning rituals of work at home and prayers to gods begin instinctually. As the hearth is given its fire and the dough rises, tea comes to a boil and people are ready for the day. In these spaces stories of the everyday are being created, mundane and everyday stories, sometimes scary and sometimes humorous. Stories of meeting people and news of the town, rumours and facts all come to the melting pot as the towns and villages create and tell their stories.

Come to think of it, stories make us human, it identifies us and builds a community. It is akin to a heartbeat of a culture, an endless story that rises and falls, flows and pauses, a collective story that continues from person to person, generation to generation.

Today, social media, the television, radio, and the phone, connect us to a wider world and influences the narratives. Our replies and contributions to the world are often results of these everyday stories.

The quotidian is then also a set for stories, every day an opportunity for a new plot, adding to life, to the richness of a culture, speaking to the values and principles of a culture, and beyond it to the ingenuity of functioning as a society, finding fine balances between chaos and peace.

The setting of these daily stories is utilitarian and focused on function: Designs that enrich the lives of people, make it pleasurable and beautiful; a beautiful porcelain cup must be ergonomic for tea to be enjoyed. In this pursuit, stories are formed as a culture and people strive constantly to better design, address their needs, and innovate to make life just a little easier.

Where then were our stories formed, if not in every moment we lived, every breath that added to the story, every word ever spoken by a maker of the grand story. A story not devoid of perfection, and certainly not one that came out of the thin blue sky, but a story that is true and real, a story crafted from the challenges, birthed out from humanity, and formed to leave a legacy. Stories here are not merely in the realm of humans, but also in ecosystems of life, where life is in motion including birds in the sky and animals on the land that contribute by their very existence to the human story.

Footnotes:

* Edited by Ashima Sharma, journalist at Globaldata, London.