Flow with Zanskar Love Tales - Culture of Zanskar | Travel to Zanskar Valley

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View of Zanskar from Khangok Village during Summers

It is a not so sunny afternoon in the village of Pibting, in the valley of Zanskar. The clouds loom merging with the white surfaces of Earth beneath snow.

Palmo, gently puts her 'Parek' on the mud plastered floor of the 'Tsom', gets up to stir the saag and potato soup for dinner stewing at the Bukhari. The copper kitchen ware, all stacked neatly like medals of an athlete, within the niche on the wall, shimmer as the cracks of fire engulfs the earthen pot. The valley is covered with a blanket of snow, studded with stout mud houses letting out smoke like an overheat engine. Zigmee enters in the warmth of his home with fire wood on his back. He drops the kilta behind him, and taps the snow off from his boots. Confirming the dinner for tonight, he fills himself a cup of salt tea and rolls a ball of Tsampa as a snack, sighing that their family doesn’t have enough meat to last the winter. Palmo nodded with acknowledgement while breathing the legacy of her family tree as she brushed her fingers over the Parek, which will now go to their daughter, Tenzing.

A typical Ladakhi House representing the traditional architecture of Ladakh

Tenzing comes in breathing heavily, stealthily eyeing and reading the room from above her crimson cheeks. She sits next to the Bukhari with her eyes down staring at her hands glowing against the orange of the flame. On finding a window to speak, Tenzing looks up towards her father and mother, nervously – “Amla, please get ready to weave the turquoise stone into your Parek, as I have chosen a boy for myself!” Her parents look at her with the same emotion and wait with eyes wide open. She continues, “His name is Kaiser from Kargil, merchant Naseer’s son. Please hear me out fully. I really love him and he is very much a modern man that I am looking for.”

Exhibit of kitchen ware from a typical Ladakhi house of Zanskar, witnessed at Zanskar Ladakh festival.

Palmo, looks at her daughter with beading eyes of love and shame without moving her body. Zigme sprang from his seat with total disbelief and a red face, staring at his daughter’s frightened guts, finding himself speechless. Tenzing, holds his hand and says, “Kaiser’s family agrees with the proposal Pala. Please do think about it. You as well as the entire bowl of our settlement, from the Pensila Pass in Kashmir, to the Sangam of Indus and Zanskar river in Leh, uptil the Sikh kings of Lahaul, know Mr. Naseer’s bravery, his truthful trademanship, and his acceptance for other cultures like a true Muslim should. He is successful, and has taught his son, the same. I belong to Kaiser and him to me. Please Pala, please. We intend to shift to Leh where the air between inter caste marriages is a bit calmer. Kaiser will carry out his father’s business and I will help him and bear his children. Give them a good life in the city. I dont want to work in the fields like here all year around. I don’t want to get married here to continue doing the same and taking care of everyone. Also I don’t want to go live in a monastery like how Dolma did to escape this life. I want to lead a better life with a happy family. Please meet them once. They are eager to take this ahead. “ Tenzing ends her pitch with a relieved face and love smitten eyes, looking down at her hands interlaced before herself.

Zigme, angry and distraught, storms out of the room followed by two pairs of scared eyes.

A girl with her grandmom at the Zanskar Ladakh festival.

A month long displeased silence is broken with excitement flooding in the courtyard of Zigmee’s home, when Zigmee and Palmo accept a drink of Chang from Mr Tshulthrim’s from the village of Zangla, symbolizing a confirmed match between the formers daughter Tenzing and the laters son Tashi.

While the house is swept and decorated, Tenzing, walks to the Gyalwa Ringna  (5 dayani Buddha rock Statue) under the shadows of the Chorala (the highest peak of Zanskar), away from the chaos in her life, fighting the battle between love and family in her mind. Kaiser came with his flying robes on his big brown horse to meet her, before he prepares his walk to Leh through the frozen chadar of Zanskar. They sit on the snow patched dry fields with the old Padum monastery in the background over looking the Sherap river, holding hands, looking far across towards the sangam, the exit point of Zanskar.

His Holiness Dalai Lamas Retreat center built at the sangam of Pensila & Sherap to form Zanskar River

Tenzing, helpless and angry bearing a heavy heart looks towards the river Zanskar and sings her lungs out-

“ Oh River Zanskar, take me with you, to where you flow.

At the break of dawn or in the dark hours of night..

Tell us when the time is right.

Oh River Zanskar, take us with you, to where you flow.

Both our origins have been on this white copper fossil land

And yet I am bound to stay while you silently leave under your white snow band?

Take me with you!

Teach me the strength you built

Meandering though the obstacles with all tilts

Oh River Zanskar, take me with you, to where you flow.

My love for myself stands first, that’s true

I saw the birds and thought, as they flew.

If Love is to suffer, as they say, isn’t the life chosen for me any less I pray?

“Oh River Zanskar, take us with you, to where you flow.

I plead if may,

The rings back home are set on a tray.

I cant go back, have forgotten my home and its way..

“Oh River Zanskar, take us with you, to where you flow. “

River Zanskar flowing towards Leh as seen from Zangla Palace

Alas, the time for Bagsum Lu was here on the wedding day. Unique to the Ladakhis, this ceremony is filled with thrill, fun and lots of singing. The Groom’s caravan has already stopped at the gate of the brides home.  Jugalbandi between the two sides start with creative singing about marriages and customs, duties of the man to his wife and vice versa. There is even a paragraph about sex where all Tenzings friends giggle knowing the inevitable. Ceremonies like these last for 3-4 hours giving enough time for the bride to prepare her departure.

The bride is getting ready inside her quarters, surrounded by her friends and aunts. The Parek is set on her head as the final touch to the get up for the day. Unlike most brides, Tenzing is the least happy and nervously looks out of the window seeing the procession nearing.

Zanskari women singing and dancing, expressing their culture at the Zanskar, Ladakh Festival

As the customary give and take of the tradition continues, the bride sits under a make shift blanket tent with a friend, waiting to be spotted and kidnapped by the groom as a sign of valor and passion while her friends wait at the door, giggling, eyeing other eligible men and updating every happening with a humorous flare.

The procession finally reaches the doorstep and is welcomed with Chang served endlessly flowing through the Naer (intricately carved copper water jugs from Kashmir). The handsome groom, shining through his brocade attire seeks blessings from all elders before he enters the abode to kidnap his going to be wife.

Preparing a dinner of momos at the Tsom (Living area cum kitchen cum drawing room) of a Zansakri home

Tashi with his broad shoulders makes a grand entry into the bride’s abode. All the girls make way for his entry and huddle up on the sides of the door. Tashi looks around with vigor and lifts his Tibetan steel sword to point out to his wife’s silhouette under the tent. The air in the room is eclectic with joyful suspense as Tashi moves closer to the blanket tent. The girl friends then hurry up to unveil the suspense, so the bride and groom can finally meet each other. The blanket is lifted, and the room echoes with a shrill outcry. To Tashi’s surprise, none of the two girls are Tenzing. And a loud clamor accompanies Tashi’s hurried steps towards the window to seek where could Tenzing be.

Tashi spots the big brown horse galloping along the River Zanskar, and a Parek loaded head turning around from above it, to say - I am sorry.

Found someone's last read on a table at Zangla nunnery