Once upon a time, in the Western Himalayan foothills, there lived a powerful Magar Shaman (Ramma) named Puran San. One day, in that kingdom, the queen fell ill, and the King summoned Puran San to tend to the queen and heal her. Puran San reached the palace, recited his powerful chants into a glass of water, and gave it to the queen to drink. With just a gulp, the queen became healthy again.
Unbeknownst to everyone in the realm, the queen had become a victim of the evil eye of the nine witch nieces of one black magic practitioner named Maitye. Enraged by Puran San’s intervention, they plotted to make the queen fall sick again. This time they also spread a rumor across the Kingdom that Puran San was actually a Wizard and that he deliberately made the queen fall ill time and again.
Soon, the rumor reached the King’s ears, and in a fit of anger, he ordered the arrest of Puran San. The news of the order of his arrest reached Puran San before the soldiers arrived. He told his wife that he would go into hiding nine stories deep into the underworld and that she, in no way was to reveal his hide-out, unless the soldiers paid her in gold and other riches. He quickly taught her the ritual charm to penetrate the underworld and went deep before the soldiers arrived.
The soldiers looked for him everywhere but could not find Puran San. The wife remained silent when interrogated. She demanded gold in return for information on her husband’s whereabouts. As threatening and persuasion failed to produce results, she was finally paid with gold. Then she opened the portal into the underworld. The soldiers searched for Puran San in the underworld, and when they finally found him, they were no match before Puran San’s powers. They could not arrest him.
‘I will go with you on one condition,’ said Puran. ‘That I am given a fair trial by the King.’
The soldiers agreed.
At the court, he pleaded innocent. He requested that nine witches be captured quickly for they were behind all sickness within the royal family. Soon, the witches were found but they could not be killed by common men for they were much too powerful. Puran San would have to use his powers to execute them. But the youngest among the nine pleaded before Puran San.
‘Without us,’ she said. ‘You will lose your patients. They will stop getting sick. They will stop calling for your help.’
She begged that he spare them, and in return, they would give him the knowledge of the cure for the afflicted. Puran San agreed.
So, a pact between Shamans and Witches was made that day. The pact remains even today.
Mangkhims are temples of the Kirati Khambu Rai people. These modern-day structures, built to house the holy hearthstones, are a modern introduction – an attempt to resurrect Khambu Rai animistic traditions and somewhat organize its Shamanic religion. Mangkhims are both traditional and reformed. They are built to accentuate ethnic Khambu Rai traditions of ancestor worship as well as other early beliefs. That which is distinctive in Khambu heritage should surely be reflected in its design for Khambus cannot express their traditions properly until they are free from other religious influences to which, for reasons unknown, they still tend to cling. Hence the veneration and the construction of the Mangkhim became prevalent to restructure this idea of reformed configuration. However, they reveal a discontinuity of traditional Khambu ideology.
Khambu Rai tradition entails two principal creeds – ancestor reverence and nature worship. All nature-worshipping rituals, which are public ceremonies, are performed by the Shaman (Mangpa), and rites related to ancestor worship are performed on the hearthstones, by the elder of a particular kin group, inside the house. These hearthstones are the sanctum sanctorum of the Khambu Rai people. Known as Samkhalung or Suptulung, Hearthstones are at the core of Khambu cultural identity. A Mangkhim attempts to imitate this sanctum by placing similar hearthstones as the central shrine.
Suptulung (Hearthstones)
However, the Suptulung placements of most Mangkhims, unlike the universal model they embody, are inexpedient, directionless, and erroneous. Khambu Rai homes have Hearths made up of 3 upright stones on the ground. While these three stones are visible, the Suptulung is a combination of 8 stones, and their spiritual significance and bio-geometry are generally accepted. But what one must understand here is that a Suptulung is not just an altar. It is in fact, also the kitchen hearth. Called Chula Dhunga, in colloquial Nepali, Suptulungs serve as ritual altars and as hearths to cook food. In modern times, traditional stone hearths and kitchens have become obsolete, and the Suptulung has been relegated to function only as an altar and become a religious symbol.
While the Khambus have always attempted to return to the imagined simplicity and a sense of community enjoyed by the ancient age, many modern Mangkhims have removed those grounded Samkhalungs and instead built tiered pyramid pedestals upon which those hearthstones now stand. Although the concept of Mangkhims remains fundamentally traditional, the introduction of these rectangular pedestals undermines the model of the Suptulung in its original form. Where has there ever been a kitchen hearth that’s out of reach?
Tiered Pyramid Suptulung
‘This kind of adjustment of conceptual categories is also encountered in the symbolic function of the domestic hearth (daplo). Indeed, although its location in some way forms the crossing of the ground floor diagonals (the dwelling’s geometric center), the Kulunge define the hearth as the “center” (mrap tusko) of the ground floor.’ – Martino Nicolleti, The Ancestral Forest
A Sutptulung has always been symbolic of having derived its essence from Sumnima, the primeval mother ancestor, a human manifestation of the earth. Shamans use Mundhum (ritual language) to dedicate rituals in witness of the divine Neenamma and Henkhamma, sky and earth. But these tiered sanctums, introduced through Mangkhims downplay or even deny the concept of sacred earth and reject the idea of Sumnima, as the primordial ancestor.
Most Mangkhim sanctums have considered the Khambu Suptulung an unreachable ideal. This is evident in those tiered pedestals plastered with decorative tiles and adorned with flowers, gingers, and water grails ‘offerings’. This is the wrong interpretation of the very concept of Khambu Suptulung and shows how contemporary Khambus have misunderstood its essence. For most Khambus who are influenced by Hindu symbols, tiered Suptulungs somehow represent the Yajna Vedi or Kunda. But a few understand that these tiered structures that became the norm in Mangkhims, come from the Limbu religious Den pyramid. The Limbus believe there are nine worlds (Dens) above the earth and nine below in this universe. The earth stands in between these worlds. The Limbus have tiered representations of these Dens inside their Mangkhims.
Limbu Den Pyramid
‘There are no idols in these Mangkhims but we find nine steps constructed in the form of a pyramid. Oil lamps or candles are lit and kept on the four corners of each of the steps. They pray with ‘Lasari’, a brass plate with Artemisia flower twigs with silver coins, grains of rice, etc kept on the top of the nine-step altar. Limboos make three rounds with the dhoop in hand starting from the right side of the altar and pray to the Almighty facing the eastern side, standing on the western side of the altar.’ – Jayaraman Suresh, The Religion and the Socio-cultural Life of the Limboos of Eastern Himalayas
Exalted as the tiered pyramid is, it is by no means aligned with Khambu traditions, beliefs, and practices. So, why were these tiered structures of the Limbus copied? Well, ignorance! One of the first Mangkhims ever built was by Kirat Rai Yayokha (Khambu Rai organization of Nepal) at Hattiban, Lalitpur, Kathmandu. Unbeknownst to most Khambus from Darjeeling, this Mangkhim was built together by the 4 Kirati communities, Khambu, Limbu, Yakha, Koits, and houses religious items and symbols of all four communities.
This Mangkhim has four entrances, and each opens up to the central chamber. Each entrance belongs to each of the aforementioned Kirati groups. While all doors lead to the same inner chamber, the first thing one sees through a particular door is that group’s religious symbol. For example, the eastern door is for the Khambus, and when opened, the first thing one sees is the Hearthstones, Suptulung, firmly centered on the ground. However, as one approaches the Mangkhim, the immediate door is that of the Limbus, and when one opens it, the first thing witnessed is the tiered Den pyramid of the Limbus. Many Khambus, without any prior knowledge of this, started to believe that this tiered Den pyramid is the standard model of any Mangkhim. Without proper scrutiny and inquiry, they returned to Darjeeling and copied this pyramid structure.
Limbu Den at Hattiban Mangkhim
The intersection between lofty shrines and the spiritual dimension is difficult to define since it is subjective and dependent on belief systems. We cannot say for sure that Khambus can easily see the sacred in a Mangkhim’s noble grandeur. Many traditional observers find it amusingly ironic that simple ‘kitchen’ Suptulung grounded in Henkhama would imitate temples designed as Yajna Vedis that allow incense smoke and flower-fruit offerings. Common sense dictates that the hearth, in any culture, house, or place of worship, is always on the floor. According to Khambu traditions too, it must be placed on the ground and at the center, and represent a modest, simple shrine rather than a grand multi-level structure.
Although many Khambus argue that there is no pre-defined way to construct a Mangkhim, its architecture needs more speculations and study. We must understand that Mangkhims might be a modern introduction but it’s certainly not the first house of worship that the Kirati Khambus have ever built. Gopalavamshali is a historical document that corroborates the claim that the Kirati civilization flourished in Nepal valley for 1903 years until its fall in around 50 AD. Would a civilization that lasted for almost two millennia not build any temples? Historical evidence suggests that they did.
According to Licchavi inscriptions, 24 temples constructed by the Lichhavis still stand today. The Lichchavis used specific suffixes to denote the Gods. Swami was used to denote Vishnu, Iswara to denote Shiva, Deva to denote Avatars, and Devakula to denote non-Aryan temples. Kirata temples that existed in the pre Lichhavi era have been referred to as Matindevkul, denoting the worship of a female (mother) goddess or deity.
It would be a stretch to seek ancient historical remnants to inspire Mangkhim design, but it does offer some useful information. A Mangkhim must always adhere to the principles of sacred architecture. Within the Mangkhim chambers, rituals are supposed to play a big part. Traditional Khambu households too become an integral part of rituals. If historical guidelines are not relevant anymore, we can still use simple architectural and traditional principles employed while building Khambu houses.
Tiered Khambu Hearthstones
‘All of these household rites, have in common the fact that they refer not only to the house as a social group but also equally to the house as such: in all of them, the latter becomes a temple’ – Martin Gaenszle, Origins and Migrations: Kinship Mythology and Ethnic Identity among the Mewahang Rai of East Nepal.
Architectural ideas, both correctly and incorrectly used in contemporary Mangkhims, are endless. Khambus must attempt to discover some guidelines. Of course, not all will agree that anything needs to be added to the main structure of the Mangkhim but placing the Suptulung hearthstones on the floor is vital if authentic traditions are to be preserved and reclaimed. This must be the first reform that the Khambus must undertake. Impractical tiered pyramid Suptulung is not primarily the result of overlooking traditions—however much those abound. No, such error is the result, quite simply, of Khambus not understanding the very concept of their own hearthstones.
A Mangkhim, in a way, defines Khambu identity today and is symbolic of their sacred traditions. How the tribe defines the sacred and their traditional identity is a question that is now up to the Khambu collective to answer.
When the earth came into being, an argument between Fire and Water ensued. Fire, with all its fury, roared, “I am the mightiest.”
Hearing the fire boast about its strength, Water replied, “No, I am the mightiest, much stronger than you.”
Fire retorted, “No, I am the mightiest. My power comes from the Sun -the one who can cause great drought and dry up your seas, rivers, and lakes.”
As the argument intensified, seething with anger, Water leaped forward to extinguish Fire. Startled, by this sudden physical action, Fire jumped back and ran. Water chased after Fire.
Fire reached up to a cliff. Water pursued it there. It reached a hill and Water was right behind. It seemed that Water wasn’t going to give up and had decided to extinguish Fire once and for all. Fire ran across the hills, forests, plains, and mountains and Water was still hot on its heels. Finally, it reached a cave where scattered on the ground were some Flintstones.
In a moment of desperation, Fire pleaded to a Flintstone, “Water is trying to kill me. I know that you have been with Water. Only you can save me now.”
Flintstone asked, “If I hide you within my body, what will I receive in return?”
Fire replied, “If you keep me inside your body, whenever human beings want it, they can bring me out to light up the world. If humans are ever haunted by evil spirits, their Shamans can hold you in their hands and vanquish evil powers. With me living inside you, humans will access my powers through you. If humans consider you the mother of Fire and place you right underneath their Hearthstones, their prayers will be answered and the spirit realm will be opened to them.”
Hearing this, the Flintstone, took Fire and placed it inside its body. Water arrived with its powerful waves and crashed into the cave. But Fire had already vanished inside the body of the Flintstone.
Sunuwar people, also known as Mukhia, are one of the four branches of the Kirati tribe. The term Sunuwar was used because they lived on the banks of the Sunkoshi River, while Mukhia is an Indo-Aryan term conferred upon by the Sen Kings. Today, they prefer to call themselves Koĩts in their mother tongue and are proud to identify themselves as Kirati-Koĩts. Kirati Koĩts follow the Mukdum which is equivalent to the Mundhum followed by Khambus and Limbus. While the Khambus lived in “Majh Kirat” and the Limbus in “Pallo Kirat”, the Kirati Koĩt people inhabited the Wallo Kirat Region that falls between the Sunkoshi and the Dudh Koshi Rivers. Their language called Koĩts Lo is about 90% similar to the language of the Bahing/Bayung Rai people.
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The Sunuwar cultural backdrop is highly imbued with ritual motifs, not just through traditions handed over by the ancestors, but by the perceived occupation of indiscernible entities, such as nature and ancestral spirits. Even as cultures have intermingled, traditions expanded, contemporary Sunuwar people use Shamanic knowledge to help them make sense of events occurring in their environment. Within the conceptual structure of memory and space predicated by Sunuwar Koĩts culture, the shaman transforms it into a reality by ritually influencing the transcendent forces perceived as the basis of cause and effect.
Among the systematic ceremonies occurring amid Sunuwar cultural domain, rituals are certainly the ones that hold great prominence and significance. The sociological approach to observing Sunuwar Koits traditions is primarily through a functional analysis of their rituals –domestic and public. These rituals and other cultural traditions help contribute to the survival of the society by promoting social integration and interaction.
Sunuwar traditions employ two different types of officiants for their rituals. There is a Naso/Nokso who is a performer of rituals and a Poinbo or Ngyami, who are shamans. A male shaman is known as Poinbo, and a female shaman is called Ngyami. A Naso isn’t a traditional shaman and is not capable of making a two-way communication between the spirit world and the human realm. However, he holds vast knowledge of the Koĩts Mukdum/Mundhum (ritual language, oral narrative) and performs rituals and invokes the ancestral spirits of respective Sunuwar lineage. This ritual language is also known as Salak or Salaku and intonated by both types of officiants. He can perform sacrificial rites and all traditional rituals.
Naso is a hereditary position and acquired by male offspring for a particular lineage. It is usually a father Naso, who grooms his son to take over the responsibility of rituals. The son has to memorize all ritual chants by a repetition of ritual procedures and through observation. This training and familiarization begin at a very young age. He will be required to learn about the oral traditions of the tribe and all the myths of his culture, from the elders. At the death of his father, it is he who has to carry out funerary rites.
Sunuwar people have developed coherent ritual classifications that originate with belief systems and creation myths, transmitted orally from one generation to the next. It is a Naso who performs these rituals in the community. He conducts all life-cycle rituals and public worship events like Syadar (Nature Worship) and Surom (Worship for prosperity). His main performance is the ancestor worship ritual called Chegu in which Yabre Gubre, the dead ancestral spirits are worshipped. The performance of the Sunuwar rituals serves to infuse, validate, and maintain the values of their traditions. It is a Naso who upholds these traditions through rituals.
In contrast, the position of the Poinbo or Ngyami is never hereditary. They are traditional shamans and only those who have been approached by the spirits through dreams and visions can become a Poinbo or Ngyami. These spirits, over time, impart wisdom and power to them.
Much like the Naso, shamans also undergo a period of training when they learn how to cultivate and interpret dreams and visions from an experienced shaman who will become their spiritual mentor. While the Naso operates and performs sacrificial rites during the daytime, the Poinbo or Ngyami perform their rites at night to reduce awareness of the surroundings outside his/her focus. It is also generally disclosed by shamans that they can see spirits better at night.
Poinbo or Ngyami usually perform séance and exorcise ghosts and evil spirits from the living. Their practice includes spiritual healing and appeasing or banishing wandering souls of those who have died an unnatural death. They are psychopomps who act as arbitrators between evil spirits and living, and their sphere of ritual practice is not limited to only the Sunuwar Koits. They are also employed by other communities for rites during ‘inauspicious’ events.
Naso and Poinbo/ Ngyami wear different costumes, utilize different percussive instruments and items of spiritual defense. A Naso uses his bow and arrow, one passed on by his father, while the Poinbo/ Ngyami use a wooden knife called Phurba. While both enjoy dissimilar powers and authority and have distinct individual journeys, during public rituals the Naso requires the help of the Puimbo or Ngiami to invoke and summon the spirits for whom the rite performed. When the ceremony is over, they also need to help the spirits return to the spirit realm.
For the Sunuwars who are spiritually pluralistic, rituals reflect and construct social, political, ethnic, and economic relationships. They represent the very center of the community, where sacred traditions and their cultural contexts become exceedingly significant. Sunuwar Koĩts liturgical traditions uncover the interwoven complexity marked by overlapping identities of tribe, ethnicity, and region. But these officiants simplify them by clearly demarcating and maintaining a great degree of distinctiveness. Sunuwar officiants are all connected and aligned for both are employed in the service of the community, and work within the sphere of ritual contexts.
The folk music of the Limbus is central to understanding their cultural elements, including their worldview, relationships, traditions, roles, and practices. For centuries, folk music has long been a traditional method of entertainment, but in the Himalayan region, it also encompasses mythical storytelling and the performance of rituals. Traditional music genres of the Limbu people include all of these components.
Much like that of other Himalayan indigenous communities, Limbu tribal music is traditionally vocal. Limbu folk songs are accompanied by performance and ceremony, which usually take place without written prompts, but they come from various generations of practiced and perfected interactions.` This autochthonous folk music also reflects the depth of the cultural concepts that exist within the tribe. It displays kinship structures, relationships, ritualistic beliefs, creation myths, and the creative function for relationships with physical and spiritual beings. Today, the Limbu community is utilizing and recreating their traditional culture with music as a medium of entertainment, which helps preserve ancient traditions in the modern age.
Ethnic Limbu folksongs are called Samlo. There are a variety of folksong genres, but Palam Samlo always tops the Limbu repertoire. Palam is sung while doing chores, working in the fields, or during social events like weddings and festivals. But it is associated the most with Yalang (Paddy Dance). It is a commonly held notion that after harvest, the people would gather at a particular house. Here they held hands, formed a circle, and went around while stamping upon the paddy to extract rice grains. This dance would later be accompanied by songs that ultimately became Palam.
For an open-eared listener, traditional Limbu music is not difficult to enjoy. Even if you do not understand the language, repeated hearings of these songs will gradually reveal the subdued, haunting melody enfolded in their carefully tuned forms. At its core, traditional Limbu songs serve as repositories and disseminators of lifestyle, knowledge, and traditions. Limbu folksong genres such as Palam, Sarek, and Khayali, while being traditionally recreational, also depict social life, and emphasize a balance of intellectual, emotional, and spiritual processes.
Limbu people categorize the Palam genre into four forms or moods. There is one that denotes flirtation and courting in the form of riddles. The second form is about love in its purest essence. The third form represents love and proposal for marriage. The fourth one describes human life as flowers. This assists young men and women to subtly declare that their destiny is to realize emotions and love. The essence of Palam is to exchange feelings of love and affection and experience pain and pleasure through a heart-touching song, sung in harmony.
Palam Samlo, initially intended as paddy dance, has become incredibly popular over the years. Limbu traditional songs, which are centuries-old, still bring the community together for social activities or ceremonies. But in time, there have been changes in its form and tempo. Palam has now been divided into Sakpa Palam, played with a faster beat, and the Khemba Palam, on a slower beat. As Limbu society evolved, their music has diversified into various genres that bear both social and religious contexts.
Khayali is another popular genre among the Limbus. It is a duet that is a casual exchange between male and female vocalists. These songs are dialogues, witty repartees between two singers. In Khayali or Palam, the meter remains constant within the tune. Its rhythm, which uses syncopation, is usually relatively uncomplicated. There is extended use of vibrato. In many instances, the instruments are dominated by vocals. This occurs because the lyrics and emotions become larger than the music itself. The form is generally strophic where each stanza is sung over the same music. Strophic forms in music exist because they are iterative. These are songs that consist of short sections of music that have been repeated countless times throughout history.
Many other types of Limbu folksongs exhibit their daily activities. These are songs that have been transferred from one generation to another. There are wedding and farming songs that help deconstruct the parameters that define their society. All genres of Limbu folk music present a different understanding of their lifestyle. Where there are general folksongs, we can also find numerous ritual song genres among the Limbu people. These are a part of Limbu Mundhum (oral narrative) and always accompany life-cycle rituals. Limbus has always ascribed spiritual importance to these rituals through their songs.
According to various sources, apart from Palam and Khayali Limbus classify their song (samlo) genres into the following:
Hakpare – Spiritual song sung only by women. Namdatte Kehsam – Wedding Song Domke Akma – Sung while working Thakptham – Sung while moving into a new house Nisammang Sewa – Devotional song accompanied by performance Mingwan – Ritual song while naming a new-born Tamkye – Sung while cultivating the fields Agnekwa Sammet – Lullaby
Limbu folksongs demonstrate that music plays a fundamental role in influencing, defining, and maintaining tribal cultures. Renowned Limbu folk singers continue to emerge with artistic collaborations to create space for identity building through indigenous music. So while other forms of culture may be challenging to preserve, Limbu folksongs are still popular and perhaps will be able to maintain and balance their cultural constructs through traditional music.
Khambu shamanic tradition states that a Shaman (Mangpa/Nakchhong) is chosen by the spirits and that this selection happens when one is born with awakened consciousness or energy. This consciousness, known as “Chhi” or “Chha” is supposedly capable of accessing vibrations that are subjectively defined as a psycho-spiritual effect, experienced as an intense stirring within and through oneself. The Khambus explain this as the receiving of an external spirit into the body, however briefly. These embodied agencies or spirits are independent entities who either incarnate to fulfill their agendas or can be summoned at the will of the Shaman. Such contact with spirits always occurs in altered states of consciousness.
There are several types of Khambu Shamans or Mangpas. There are Nakchhongs who can only perform household lineage rituals or the ones who can conduct Lam Pakma, the rites of passage and seance. Some have the capability of performing Sakela rituals, while others can perform exorcism involving external entities, unrelated to the clan. The ‘flower’ Shaman, Bungpenmi/Bungmangpa, however, is the most inimitable one. He is unique, for he views life essence as flowers and heals the ailing, using it. Bungpenmis are very rare among a host of different types of Shamans in the Kirat Khambu Rai tribe. Bungpenmis revere Budahang- a divine ancestral spirit.
For the Bungpenmi, the human body is embellished with imperceptible, rare flowers found in the mountains, hills, and plains. An impure body could cause these flowers to move from their usual position, or wither away, thereby creating health problems. For mental composure and good health, these body flowers need to be in their correct spots. The Khambu concept of life essence or life breath is centered around different levels of souls, all equally important for physical and spiritual well-being. Various levels of conscious and subconscious spiritual essence such as Lawa, Saya, Nungwa, Sakma, Sakon, and the physical body, function as one unit to give life and health to an individual. This unit must remain intact and whole for spiritual, mental, and physical health.
The shamanic concept of illness is usually about the loss of vital essence (saato haraunu) or some individual dishonor (seer dhalnu), which can occur for various reasons, including fright, a transgression, or a play of negative energies. Other illness reasons could include the consequences of external intrusion in the body. When a person is afflicted with such, the invisible flowers on the body are displaced, and the Bungpenmi must make appropriate adjustments. This healing ritual is called Bungwa Bakma.
Bungwa Bakma is performed right after Sakela Dongdawa (Descending Period/Udhauli). The Bungpenmi has an apprentice called Chuptungmi, who also has an assistant called Dengsungmi. They help the Bungpenmi collect rare Himalayan flowers required for this ritual. These flowers, essential to the rite, usually grow on the most remote terrains of the Himalayan foothills. Bungpenmis have a list of 362 flowers that only they can identify with precision. Since these flowers will be used in the ritual to honor Budahang, the Bungpenmi must sing the Mundhum (ritual language) to explain and justify the picking of these flowers to the divine spirit. Thus, while collecting them, the Bungpenmi is in a constant Shamanic trance as he repeatedly keeps chanting the Mundhum. An error could be fatal to the physical well-being of the Bungpenmi and his assistants. This marks the beginning of the Shaman’s spiritual journey and the success of the ritual, therefore, falls not only on the Shaman’s ritual chanting but also on his ability to pick the right flowers. Finding specific flowers is imperative to the success of the ritual’s outcome. Special care is demanded to avoid ‘impurities’. A flower, once plucked, must be covered with its own leaves, before being collected in a bag.
Before the ritual, everyone gathers at the house of the clan elder to finalize the appropriate date for the ritual. Usually, the village elder’s house will be chosen as the venue for Bungwa Bakma. The entire village participates in the welcoming, hosting, and managing of the ritual. Select members of the house that hosts the ritual, must take alcohol-filled dried gourd (Wabuk/Chindo) to the Bungpenmi to summon him. The Bungpenmi agrees to the date and the venue and gives his word to be there for the ritual. Extended family members are invited on the suggestion of the Bungpenmi The invited members will bring alcohol, ginger, and rice grains as offerings. These offerings come from female members and are called Chhetkusaya.
The occasion possesses a certain solemnity. A feast is prepared, the house and the hearth are cleaned and purified, and the participants wait for the Shaman. The Bungpenmi arrives carrying the flower basket (Bungwa Paanti), and the assistant holds the bag filled with flowers. They are greeted with a gourd full of alcohol each. Traditional Khambu white turban, Sayabung, is placed over their heads to honor them. The assistant will then distribute the alcohol among them all for a drink. After a drink, the Bungpenmi asks for formal permission from the family to begin the ritual. This ritual, which lasts a day, shows that ancestral spiritual energy is the ultimate source of authority as the rules of the ritual demand absolute precision. For a moment, the Shaman exists only as a human representative of a tradition that relies, above all, on the transcendent source of ancestral spiritual energy.
Before the ritual begins, a bed of banana leaves is laid out before the Hearthstones (Suptulung)- the sanctum sanctorum of the Kirati Khambus. Rice grains, ginger, and a gourd full of alcohol are placed nearby. Another banana leaf is placed atop to cover them. Upon that leaf, more rice grains, ginger, and required flowers are spread out. To the left side of these two leveled offerings, there is a grail of water. Green sprigs of the Castanopsis plant (Chille Kattus) soak in this water. The ritual also requires millet beer (Charima Wasim) in a cup and in a traditional wooden grail called Kathuwa. The Bungpenmi, who now begins his role as the officiant, is seated before the altar and begins the rite. Chanting the Mundhum ritual speech, he verifies the presence of the tutelary spirit and begins the divinatory phase of the ritual. The ritual flowers are employed to look into the past, present, and future.
The Bungpenmi organizes the flowers upon the Banana leaf sequentially, concerning its usefulness and symbolism. He then holds the flower container while chanting the Mundhum ritual speech relentlessly. At each instance that a Bungpenmi mentions a flower, the assistant picks up that particular flower and gives it to him. At different periods, the rite allows for a brief break (Tumdhama). Some alcohol is imbibed as an offering. At this moment, the flower container is placed underneath the ritual altar. These are small relational nodes of connection between souls and the flowers where the Bungpenmi collectively converses with the divine spirit in an autonomous yet coordinated way.
Beginning with the father, the Bungpenmi, following exact hierarchical order, asks for the clan, lineage, and origins (Pacha, Samet, Sohon) of everyone present. The daughters and other young participants place rice grains and money as offerings to be utilized along with the flowers for divination. By slicing the Ginger Rhizome (Kachur), the Shaman attempts to obtain precise information about the nature and seriousness of any problem that could have come upon the family members. Owing to this information, the Shaman uses the physical, tangible flowers to see and transform the center of gravitation for all realities and reposition and align all imperceptible flowers, thereby healing all ailments.
Outside the house, a rooster has to be sacrificed. Its blood cannot touch any of Budahang’s flowers. In evoking the connection between the transcendent forces and the ritual, the motif of the Rooster offering also leads us to consider another basic theme, characteristic of Bungwa Bakma. While the flowers are for the declared purpose of calling the attention of the Budahang spirit, the aim of the Rooster offering, at this phase, is to appease the presence of other divine entities that have somehow permeated into the ritual space. The myth says:
Waarihang and Kumdapuhang are the other names of Budahang. Badetkumma and Saisakumma are his two wives. These two wives did not get along with each other. The Mundhum says that the other name of Badetkumma is Dolokumma. There was once a fight between Badetkumma (Dolokumma) and Saisakumma where they used magical powers against each other. In the duel, Dolokumma attacked Saisakumma’s vision and blinded her. From that day onwards, Saisakumma’s suffering became eternal. She also crawls because she cannot walk.
While worshipping Budahang, the flowers that represent him are positioned near the Hearthstones. Similarly, Dolokumma is also worshipped inside the house. Only the Rooster sacrificial rite is performed outside to appease Saisakumma. While worshipping Saisakumma, the Bungpenmi, to emulate the suffering of the divine female spirit, crawls up to the threshold for the sacrificial rite. The tradition of rooster sacrifice, in honor of Saisakumma, besides conceptually catering to the idea of revering the ancestor spirit, can also be inferred as a ritual connected with the space in which the healing takes place. The surrounding becomes a manifestation of human empathy, the realm within which Khambu rites find a form of human expression. This rite is to relieve the suffering of Saisakumma, which will, in return, ultimately help heal the suffering of the living.
While crawling outside, the Bungpenmi carries a flower container, a gourd or grail of water, and chants the Mundhum continuously. This part of the ritual is also known as Saisla. Now alcohol and water are offered and Kachur is carried out. The ritual has animated the surrounding space to allow for healing. The conceptual opposition between well-being and suffering has been ratified by ritual. Now, the Bungpenmi has to aid the return of the invoked ancestral spirits. At the end of the session, all the items employed during the ritual are gathered and taken towards the north, and duly honoured with libations of beer. The participants all drink a little alcohol and eat the Rooster meat as offerings.
The ritual, that sees an ailment as an unstable apparatus detrimental to humans, thus transforms, as a self-correcting attribute of nature, into a potent process at human disposal to urge the ancestor spirits to exchange for their offerings, the gift of well-being. Bungwa Bakma demonstrates that it is through the will of the Bungpenmi that men can utilize to their exclusive advantage, the obligations stemming from this correlation of ritual exchange.
Writing history from a Khambu perspective requires reconsideration of the consensual popular narrative. Khambus have always attached cultural and economic practices to the land in and around Kalimpong and Darjeeling. Yet in the popular narrative, the one indoctrinated by the colonists, we’ve been taught to embrace the tea-garden immigrant view. This narrative persists, not for a scarcity of information but rather for an absence of motivation to study and ask questions.
In the winter of 1871-72 CE, a regular census was taken in the district of Darjeeling. Although the deputy commissioner regretted incorrect reports in and around the Damsang Tract (Kalimpong), the census was considered to be fairly accurate. The number of Kiratis including Dewan, Khambu, and Limbu was 13,692 which constituted about 42 percent of the total Nepali population in the district. The Kiratis formed the largest group of the Nepali population followed by Tamang (6570) and Mangars (3011). By statistics alone, it can be said that by the middle of the 19th century, before the tea industry started, Kirati Khambus already seemed to have settled in Darjeeling.
Before 1774 CE, before the eastern conquest of the Gorkha King Prithivi Narayan Shah, Kiratis had divided the land east of the Kathmandu valley into Wallo (Near) Kirat, Majh (Middle), and Pallo ( Far) Kirat. Pallo Kirat extended from the Arun river in the west to the Singalila range up to the regions along the Sikkim border. This region was later consolidated by the Gorkha soldiers under Prithivi Narayan Shah who stretched his border up to the Tista river.
After the Anglo- Nepal war, Nepal signed the treaty of Sugauli on the 4th of March, 1816. Nepal ceded most of the lands it possessed to the British East India Company. The territory lying between the Mechi and Tista rivers (which currently forms Darjeeling, Kurseong, and Siliguri subdivisions ) were given to Sikkim after the treaty of Titaliya between the East India Company and Sikkim on February 10th, 1817 because Darjeeling was always a disputed land between the Kiratas, Gorkhas, Sikkim and the British, the indigenous population included the hill tribes of the Lepchas, Limbus and the Khambus along with a fair amount of Murmis, now Tamangs. This is evidenced by the fact that in a chronicle of Sikkim rulers in the Limbu language, Fung rai is mentioned as the Hang (King) of Panchthar from which a little further up is the Choyabanjyang pass joining around the Darjeeling hills where no resistance was offered to the Gorkhali commander Abhimansingth Basnet when the Kirat country fell in 1774 CE, thereby suggesting that Isilimba and Choyabanjyang always belonged to the kingdom of Fung Rai.
F.B. Hamilton observes that the Gorkhali Commander Genti Khatree (Jayanti Khatri) had penetrated up to Chongtong (Chungtung) and the Gorkhalis were also stationed at Nagri and Sittong. The Gorkhalis received no resistance in these parts as Far Kirat had already defeated. By 1794 CE, the Gorkha forces had begun the policy of appeasement. Many of the Khambus had emigrated beyond the Tista River into Sikkim. A royal order was issued to Sambahang Nambang Rai and one Nabha Rai about pardoning them and asking them to return to confirm the ownership of their ancestral lands.
In the mid-sixteenth century, Vijayanaryan, a Hindu Koch king was in power in Vijaypur (now, Dharan, Nepal). Vijaynarayan entered into a truce with the Kiratis living in the hills north of Morang and took into service, Singha or Simha Rai as Chautariya or Prime Minister. He later had Simha Rai executed because he “being an impure beef-eating monster defiled a Hindu Woman”. The son of Simha Rai, Baju Rai (Bajihang, I.S Chemong) went to Lohang Sena, the King of Makwanpur for help. Lohang took the help of the Kirati Khambu army and crossed the Adhwara River and occupied Vijaypur. Hamilton accounts that Bajihang was killed by a Lepcha Chief in 1618 CE. Lohang is said to have avenged the death of Bajihang and later spread his empire up to Lohagarh which presently falls in the foothills of Kurseong. That Lohang’s conquest from the Adhiyariver to the Mahanada in the east with the help of the Khambu army suggests that the Kirati Khambu were around the Kurseong region as early as 1618 CE.
Up until 1878 CE, much of the vacant lands in the Mirik region had no tea plantations. Dr. Campbell had to face a labor scarcity problem. He requested a local Khambu Nobleman Shri Dakman Rai to assist him in bring immigrant workers from Nepal to work at the tea plantations. Dakman Rai helped set up tea plantations at Soureni in 1878, at Phuguri in 1880, and Sampripani in 1883 CE. Mr. Dakman Rai’s name is always mentioned whenever the history of tea in Darjeeling is mentioned. Much of the lands in Darjeeling already had Kirati Khambu people even before tea was planted by the British. The Kirati Khambu Rai people have been a part of Darjeeling’s geography and history-shaping it for more than 3 centuries. The East India Company had given three Grants from 1840-1870 a)The Rungpo Grant to Bahadur Rai b) the Mirik Grant to D. Lloyd and c) The Phuguri Grant to Dakman Rai.
Another instance can be seen in the year 1828 CE when the East India Company sent G.W Lloyd and G.W Grant to Darjeeling which was an old Gorkha station. It is said that G.W Lloyd spent almost a week in February 1829CE in Darjeeling. They deemed Darjeeling perfect to be turned into a health resort for European soldiers. The Englishmen decided to visit Sikkim in 1831 CE because if the company possessed Darjeeling, it would confer ‘considerable political benefits as well as make an ideal health resort. The King of Sikkim agreed in giving Darjeeling to the company because we wanted the restoration of the original boundary of his kingdom claiming that the Yakha and the Khambu tribes were under him. It is interesting to note that Sikkim had never made any attacks against the Gorkhas and their kingdom. Sikkim also never claimed parts of Ilam to be part of their Kingdom. But Sikkim had always vehemently laid claim to Darjeeling and tried to protect it at all times. From these incidences, one can draw an inference that Darjeeling always had a significant amount of Yakha and Khambu tribes.
In a Tamang society , a Tamba is a traditional historian, oral narrator, genealogist, minstrel, singer, storyteller, and expert in rituals. Tambas are the living memory of their community and repositories of rich oral traditions who can act as windows into the cultural worldview of the Tamang people. The knowledge of Tambas itself is organized, stored, and communicated in narrative-based prose-poem songs known as Hwai. These traditional narrative songs are sung during various life-cycle rituals. Knowledge, traditions, ritual practices, and collective communal memory are embedded within these narrative songs and stories which are shared and communicated through their re-telling.
“A Tamba seems to be above all an advisor and commentator on rituals.” – W. Alexander
In a group of seven elders within a Tamang tribe, Tambas always hold a prominent place. These elders who make important decisions within the tribe are:
1. Choho – The Headman 2. Mulumi – The Leader of the Village 3. Tamba – Ritual Expert and Historian 4. Dopta – The Wise 5. Ngapta – The Resourceful 6. Ganba – Village Elder 7. Mulumi Gaurai – The Headman’s apprentice
These elders mediate differences between individuals within the community and use their experience and knowledge of traditional customs. Tambas, with their vast knowledge of culture, traditions, and rituals, provide a sociocultural and historical account of the community and become the voice of traditions within the tribe. Tamba oral tradition is a unique aspect of Tamang culture and has managed to preserve Tamang rituals, history, mythology, music, language, and identity in the purest form. Tamang Tambas are orators, minstrels, storytellers, and their narrative is always sung or spoken in the Tamang language. Tam means speech and, Ba is a person or upholder.
Within the social fabric of the Tamang community, a Tamba is also a village or social elder or a leader and holds prominence due to his knowledge of culture and traditions. During marriage rituals, because of his knowledge of genealogies, a Tamba takes center stage. During marriage ceremonies, he puts across riddles to other Tambas and answers those put across to him. The wedding Hwai which constitutes 76 lines talks about Tamang history, traditions, and genealogies.
Traditional discourse is very much a part of Tamang ritual practices. This regularly leads the Tambas to interact with each other through songs. ‘The groom’s side opens the proceedings by demanding, ‘You must tell us how the name of Tamang came about and how our ancestors brought us from Tibet.’ The Tamba goes on to recount the journey from Tibet via Jharlang and Setang (Timure) under the leadership of Lhake Dorje and how he gave the names to the 18 clans and said which could intermarry.’ – Andrew Rotley Hall, (Religion in Tamang Society)
Oral traditions, as the transmission of cultural items from one generation to the next, are heard, collected in memory, and recalled at the moment of customary rites. The Himalayan tribes have used the form of legends, myths, poems, stories, and folklores to preserve their ideas, values, and philosophy. Thus, a Tamba imparts a community’s values through his songs. He sings before the bride and the groom and tells them about the responsibilities and duties within a marital relationship. As a master of ceremonies, his presence is required during various rituals such as a “Pasni” or “Chhewar.” But apart from these roles and functions that a Tamba enacts and embodies, he is also a bard or a minstrel who has carried on the oral tradition of the Tamang people throughout the centuries.
In Tamang traditions, there are three types of officiants. There is a Lama who is a Buddhist monk, a Bonbo who is a Tamang Shaman and the third is a Tamba. The Tamba always acknowledges the presence of the Elders, the Monk, and the Shaman before he begins his historical narrative.
Tamba narrative begins with: “Here, as a witness, stand knowledgeable and the wise. Radiant like the moon and the sun, they are all gathered here. Blessed by Lord Dewa Sangey, Maawang Sangey, Dawa Sangey, and all the gods in the high heavens, the Lama, who knows the wisdom of the three worlds, also sits upon his Thi (throne) among us. To the Shaman who knows the magic of the plains and the hills, the mountains and all the elders present here, I offer my respects.” –Santbir Lama (Tamba Kaiten Whai Rimathim)
Tambas sing the Tamba La Hwai, which are Tamang songs that talk about Tamang myths, traditions, beliefs, philosophy, and rituals. Traditionally Hwai were ritualistic songs and held tremendous importance in Tamang rituals. Tambas who know their Hwai are requested by the respective family to oversee the rituals. They are to be requested in a small ceremony where offerings are placed and sacred juniper is kindled to initiate Hwai singing. Today, Tambas are viewed as a reclamation of culture, an honoring of their ancestors, and symbols of a rich Tamang cultural heritage. It is this same Tamba la Hwai melody that became so popular that it permeated into mainstream Nepali culture and went on the become the Tamang Selo.
A Tamba usually has an apprentice to whom all knowledge will be passed on. It is practical performance and rigorous practice that gives the apprentice the status of a Tamba. Due to the oral nature of the knowledge system, the apprentice of a Tamba learns his craft by following the way of his master. He learns by listening and observing, and practicing. The student Tambas will someday represent the inherent social, traditional, and symbolic structure of the tribe.
It is through the telling of stories and legends that Tambas preserve what is most important to a community—language, traditions, and identity. Tamba oral tradition reinforces ritualistic imperatives and maps identity and social associations. They create a response to social needs and give members of a group a sense of belonging to a community by conveying shared values. For centuries, the Tamang people have retained oral tradition that is distinct from the literacy consciousness of their mainstream Himalayan neighbors because this unwritten manuscript belongs to all, and the Tamba must hold on to it for a while and pass it on. The oral narratives of the Tamba, its essence, much like an individual, can have abstruse contrasts and lengthy timelines but all fuse together to form a beautiful image of a Tamang worldview that ardently corresponds to their social and cultural values.
Sakela is the formless, genderless divine nature spirit revered by the Khambu Rai people. As the most potent and prominent divine source since ancient times, for many Khambu Rai sub-tribes, Sakela represents a powerful spirit and a guardian of their sacred places. In the Khambu Rai belief system, it is hard to distinguish definitively between a ‘spirit’ and the more intangible ‘life force’ that helps animate that spirit. But in their polytheistic spirit pantheon, Sakela is the only divine entity who is distinguishably viewed as both – a guardian spirit and also a unifying life force inherent in all aspects of nature.
For the Khambu Rai people, there is no separation between religion and traditions. Their entire spiritual system is encircled and guided by an interchangeable sense of both. The worship rituals of Sakela come from Khambu traditions and Kirat religion for both are not mutually exclusive. The Khambu Rai physical world, right from the hearth to the fields and forests, is steered by the presence of nature spirits and ancestral souls, hidden and yet omnipresent. The bi-annual worship of Sakela lends expression to this nature venerating belief. Sakela rituals are not only directed at the present but also towards the future, as determinants of the growth of all sentient beings nurtured by nature. Nature worship is an integral part of religion and traditions in Kirat Rai culture.
Sakela is the name of the divine spirit and also the name of the festival where that divine spirit is worshipped. There are different nomenclatures of Sakela in different Khambu languages. The Chamling sub-tribe calls it Sakela. Bantawas call it Sakewa or Sakenwa while the Thulungs call it Toshi. Regardless of these differences in terminology, all Khambus worship Sakela twice a year.
First, during Dongwanga (Ubhauli/Ascending period) and then Dongdawa (Udhauli/Descending period). Dongwanga is observed during the rising period in spring and Dongdawa during the falling period before the coming of winter, after harvest. Sakela Dongwanga is worshipped and celebrated before the cultivation of the fields begins. Khambus pray to the divine spirit for the protection of the crops and an abundant harvest. They also ask for the protection of Hangchapok (Mankind) along with all sentient beings.
Sakela Dongdawa is observed after the harvest when crops have been reaped and stored in granaries. It is observed and celebrated to offer gratitude to the divine spirit for protecting the crops and the village. From the worship ritual to the performing of the Sili (ritualistic traditional dance), Khambus consider this a grand event of great significance. Sakela has been an integral part of Khambu Rai life and culture throughout the centuries.
Khambu Rai myth, on many occasions, describes the genesis of Sakela. Various sub-tribes transmit different stories though all share the same idea and reason behind the celebration and worship of Sakela. The elders who communicate these stories express the narrative of drawing on nature’s powers and forces to promote welfare and prosperity. While these stories invariably hint at the beginning of the agriculture age in Khambu consciousness, they also introduce ancestral forces that help maintain harmony between people and the natural environment.
For the Khambu Rai people, Sakela motivates a value system that guides conservation and also encourages connection to surroundings, and fosters socio-economic activities. It is the living memory of a people, nurtured by ancestral energies, traditions, and the pursuit of physical and spiritual well-being.
Many believe that Sakmawa was the original name for Sakewa or Sakela. Sakma means “life” and Wa means “water”. Sakmawa is water that nourishes life. Prior to the actual Sakela worship rituals, all water sources are cleaned and purified by the Sakela Shaman (Nakchhong). In the Sakela worship system, only the Shamans who have received divine guidance through dreams (Sechisenmi), whether he is the main officiant or an apprentice trainee shaman, can see the actual location of the Sakela idol. The Shaman will be able to identify the exact location through his dreams. This stone representation of the Sakela divine spirit forms the main idol in the shrine.
Over various generations, such stone idols are always unearthed at locations remote and far from human settlements. Khambu Rai people believe, therefore, that Sakela worship is willed by nature spirits and not by human desire. Known locally by many names such as Sisamlung, Longmalung, or Thungmalung, Khambus believe that this idol stone ultimately connects with the vibrational energy of the Shaman, thereby leading to Shamanic tremble and trance during the worship ritual itself. The idol is to be venerated as a manifestation of the Sakela spirit and its energy.
The Shaman who has received the divine dream leads his followers up to the location of the idol stone. Sometimes the designated stone idol is beneath the ground and has to be dug up. It is up to the people to decide the venue for Sakela celebrations. Kirat Rai culture and traditions make participation almost mandatory in a Sakela festival. Some volunteer to carry the sacred Sakela idol and some will carry the drums and cymbals. There will be people who will arrange for the necessary items required for worship rituals. This is the time for the gathering of family, friends, and neighbors (Rumipani Khimpeninampeni/Isthamitra.N).
The Shaman uses his power devices such as Solonwa (Bottle Gourd), Acheta (Rice Grains), Bechuk/Subi (Ginger) as he breaks into a Mundhumi trance as the Sakela idol is positioned upon a pre-decided conducive location. The entire procession is led by the Shaman in a grand ceremony. The procession is symbolic of a united affiliation and participation within a clan or lineage. It epitomizes collective reverence for the divine spirit and provides communal entertainment through songs, dancing, and drumming.
Sakela counters the notion of human superiority. It recognizes the equality of all beings, plants, animals, water and stones, and the spirits of the mountains and the rivers. The festival of Sakela and its collective participation reinforce human kinship with the natural world and propagate the idea that all beings are alike, often bound by the same powers, potentials, limitations, and outcomes.
In the old days, there lived Jamun Gubhaji, a spiritual master, in the city of Patan. Patan was rife with merchants, consumers, artisans, and entertainers from the plains to the mountains. One day a magician from the grasslands arrived in Patan. This self-proclaimed magician bragged about his grand magic and claimed that none could stand before his miraculous powers. He stood at the center of the city gathering a large crowd of onlookers as he cut open the belly of his assistant and took out his heart and liver, and placed it upon a banana leaf on the ground. The crowd gasped in amazement.
Jamun Gubhaju, being a great magician himself, stood among the crowd and understood the magician’s illusions. To teach this conceited magician a lesson, Gubhaju transformed himself into an eagle. Then, he pounced upon the heart and the liver that lay upon the banana leaf and flew high up in the air.
The helpless magician looked on as the eagle soared above the clouds, clearly out of everyone’s reach. He knew that his assistant would soon die without the heart and liver. The people of Patan knew about Gubhaju’s powers and told the magician to seek him and ask for forgiveness. For a long time, the magician kept on searching for Gubhaju’s house in the labyrinthine alleyways of Patan. When he finally found the Gubhaju’s residence, he frantically knocked on the door.
As soon as he knocked on the door, a Myna bird announced, “The swindler has arrived.” The magician, completely startled, reached inside but could not believe his eyes when he saw that Gubhaju’s wife was firing up the oven to brew alcohol, using both her feet as firewood. The awestruck magician expressed his distress to Gubhaju’s wife who then directed him to her husband could be.
“Go deep into the forest, and upon a grassland, you will find him grazing the goats,” she said.
The magician went to the forest and spotted Gubhaju. From a distance, the magician saw that Gubhaju had placed his left foot upon the trunk of the tree, and with his power, the tree had bent, and the goats were happily eating the leaves. The magician approached Gubhaju and begged for forgiveness. He promised to never boast of his magic again. Gubhaju then handed the heart and the liver over to him. The assistant was brought back to life. With his pride now reduced, the magician soon returned to his land.
Long years ago, when humans were still hunting and foraging for food, there lived a man named Pengdorje. He would go into the forest looking for animals to hunt. He would find a game that the bounty of nature abundantly provided in the forest. On some occasions, he would return empty-handed. He met a woman, and they fell in love.
One day as he was walking in the forest to hunt, he saw a Danphe bird (Monal Pheasant) dancing around to entertain its mate. He kept watching the beautiful dance of the bird with rapt attention. Suddenly, a wild goat appeared near Pengdorje. He immediately shot the goat with his arrow and killed it.
It had been days since Pengdorje had eaten a proper meal. He immediately lit up a fire and roasted the goat meat above it. He stayed alone deep in the forest, hunting, and feasting. Over time, the goatskin had dried up in the sun. As he picked up the goatskin, he realized that it could make a sound when slapped. He chopped off a Bahunia tree and built a rounded frame. He placed the goat leather over it and strapped it with thirty-two bamboo spikes. As he banged on the instrument he created, it sounded beautiful, and he started to sing and dance to its beat.
Meanwhile, Pengdorje’s lover had begun to worry. It had been a long time since she hadn’t seen him. She ventured into the forest to look for him. As she was walking in the deep woods, he could hear the drum beats. She started to follow the sounds. From far she could see Pengdorji beating on his drum, dancing and singing in the forest. Her worries were over, and she went up to Pengdorje, and both of them started to dance together.
The Tamang people believe that this is how the Damphu (traditional Tamang drum) was first conceived.
Once upon a time, there were cordial and close relations between the Hangmangs and Sitmangs. Hangmangs are living beings, and Sitmangs are the dead human spirits. The relationship between these two entities was cordial, and they could see and feel each other. They lived together and also had marital relations with each other. There was no fear or animosity between these two entities. The only difference between these two entities was that any object that was large in the eyes of Sitmang (the dead) would look small in the eyes of Hangmang (the living) and vice versa.
In a village, there was a married couple. The husband was a Hangmang, and the wife was a Sitmang. They lived a quiet and happy life. One day Hangmang decided to visit his inlaws who lived in the next village. When he reached their house, his wife’s relatives were getting ready for a hunt in the forest. Seeing that their son-in-law had arrived, they rejoiced and immediately invited him to accompany them on their hunting expedition. When they reached the entrance to the forest, the relatives left the Hangmang son-in-law there and went deep into the woods in search of game. As the Hangmang son-in-law waited alone at the entrance, a tiny Bagchala (Grey Wagtail Bird) flew past him and entered a bush.
A few moments later, the hunters returned.
They asked him, ‘Have you seen any Yangbak (Wild Boar) come this way?’
For the Hangmang, it looked like a small bird, and so he said,
‘No, but I saw a small Bagchala bird enter that bush.’
‘Oh, that’s what we were searching for. Where did it go?’ asked the hunters.
‘I think I saw it enter this bush,’ said Hangmang, and he beat the bush with a stick. The stick accidentally hit the bird, and it came out of the bush and dropped dead at his feet.
‘Oh, this is it,’ cried the happy hunters. For them, it was a large bird, and with great difficulty, they picked it up and went back to the village.
Back home, they cut up the bird into large pieces. Then they packed a big chunk of the bird’s legs and gave it to Hangmang as a gift for their daughter. He took it back to his wife and opened the packed meat, and roasted it on the fire. As he was giving the bird meat to his wife, it slipped out of his hand and landed upon his wife’s legs. But for the Sitmang wife, it was much larger, and its weight crushed her legs. Soon the news of this incident spread across the village, and it reached the Sitmang wife’s relatives.
Both the Sitmangs and the Hangmangs decided that they could not live together as it would cause practical problems in their world. The Hangmangs declared, “Our rituals, traditions are different which have caused problems between our societies. We must have a pact that we shall never cross each other’s paths and live in our respective worlds. Let Hangmangs stay with their kind and let Sitmangs stay with theirs. We will not talk to each other, nor shall we meet. Let our worlds become demarcated by the Bahibak (Castanopsis). Let the boundaries created by the Bahibak be always respected.”
Everyone agreed. So the realms of the Hangmangs and the Sitmangs were divided. Bahibak became a symbol of this boundary between the two worlds. Since the Kirati Khambu people are nature worshippers, they worship seasonal flora and fauna, hills and valleys in the form of divine spirits and their ancestors. For most rituals from birth till death, they make use of Bahibak (Castanopsis).
Every great civilization has experienced an intrinsic need to own a calendar. Sometimes this necessity isn’t just to document solar or lunar cycles, seasonal changes, and find appropriate dates. It is also because a calendar’s presence helps define the glorious history of a people and exhibit that history to the world. For the Kiratis, who had ruled the Nepal valley (Kathmandu) for 1903 years (Gopalavamshali) and have found mention in countless manuscripts and chronicles across the world, a calendar commemorating their reign and history had become an important, albeit an exaggerated need. Hence, Yele Samvat (Yele Neri) was introduced a decade ago.
Yele Samvat is the name of the Kirati calendar and Yele Dong, the New Year, means the year of Yalambar. It is named after the first Kirati King Yalam, who initiated the Kirati dynasty that lasted for almost two millennia. About a decade ago, Kirati Khambu Rai organizations from Nepal, Darjeeling, and Sikkim came together to invent a Calendar that would be called Yele Neri or Yele Samvat. The calendar’s first date was chosen on the presumed day that Yalambar had marched into the Nepal valley, defeated the Mahisapala King Nimisa, and established the Kirati dynasty.
Of course, the date and year are highly debatable as history during that period wasn’t documented all too well. Much of Kirati history in the Himalayas rely upon a single manuscript named Gopalavamshali which mentions that the year Yalambar ascended the throne wasn’t some 5000 years ago but falls close to around 1750 BCE. However, in 2021, the Yeledong year is 5081 and how the organizations came up with the specific date and year of Yalambar’s consolidation of the Kirat Empire is a mystery. There is also no evidence that Yalambar conquered the Nepal valley on the first day of the month of Magh.
While innocent Khambus have accepted this calendar without questioning its reliability or need, most remain confused regarding the Yele Dong New Year date. The first day of the year was chosen to coincide with the Hindu festival of Maghe Sankranti but that has created a massive misunderstanding among gullible Khambus. Maghe Sankranti is the Nepali equivalent to the Hindu Makar Sankranti, a solar-related event. In contrast, all Khambu events, festivals, and rituals are observed according to the lunar cycles. Perhaps there were logical reasons behind the choice of this particular date but for the common Khambus this has become a confusing event and a large number of them have come to believe that Maghe Sankranti is a Kirati festival.
Yele Samvat, which was initiated by modern human intervention has a limited social context among Kirati Khambus. We do not see any major social celebration or events of significance linked to this calendar. Most Khambus don’t even know at any given day in a year as to what date of Yele Dong it is. This is perhaps the reason why Khambus have started to believe that the Hindu Maghe Sankranti is their festival instead of simply celebrating it as the New Year.
For the Hindus, Makar Sankranti, also called Uttarayan, marks the end of winter. It is the period in which the sun enters the zodiac sign of Capricorn (Makar) which marks the end of winter months and the beginning of longer days. Such a festival or occasion doesn’t find mention in any Kirati tradition or the Mundhum (Kirati oral narrative). Khambus have tried to link this occasion to the “Gali Sarap Bagaune” ritual but this ritual can happen on any given date and isn’t a unique Khambu tradition either. Gathering by the river to celebrate it creates further confusion because it’s prevalent among the Hindus to observe the ritualistic Makar immersion/dip during Maghe Sankranti.
There is no doubt that in many South Asian countries, especially where Hinduism had at some point in history been dominant, the first day of Magh is considered auspicious. To the Kiratis, who had always looked at seasonal changes in nature and lunar cycles to create a timekeeping system, a solar event wasn’t particularly significant. If the first day of the Yele Samvat calendar has been fixed and changing it would become more confusing, it is up to the Khambus to understand and inform that the celebration of Yeledong has got nothing to do with Maghe Sankranti.
Today, the Yele Samvat calendar doesn’t hold any social relevance among the Khambus. Sakela, which is the biggest festival of the Kirati Khambus, follows the Bikram Samvat calendar. Rawa and Nuagi too, do not correspond to Yele Samavat. So if the Khambu Rai community collectively, does not demonstrate any traditional, emotional or intellectual response to this new calendar, its relevance perhaps only attempts to answer to a persistent identity crisis. Granted, it is important but a successful propagation of a cultural event must also be viewed through the prism of distinctiveness and authenticity. However, this calendar has failed to exude that.
Among innumerable Khambus, who have spent their lives predisposed to Hindu ideology, creating cultural awareness demands caution and responsibility. Yeledong is supposed to respond to the impact of organized religions upon Khambu tribal culture in a way that reflects and asserts identity and relevance through Kirati history and its glory. It should have played a role in providing an exalted narrative and facilitating a sense of agency, which could have allowed the tribe to form a coherent sense of self. But it’s the year 5081 and many Khambus are more confused than ever!
As Yalambar conquered Nepal valley (Kathmandu) beginning from Sangha (East Kathmandu) to Gokarna (north Kathmandu), he consolidated his empire completely by taking over Jolpringram (modern-day Thankot) in around 1700 B.C (Date Source: calculated according to Gopala Vamshali). Thankot was named “Jolpringram” by the Kiratas. The word “gram” used as a suffix in the name “Jolpringram” suggests that it was an important town during the Kirata era.
The Kiratas also used the term “Pringa” to denote any settlement or village on a “hill”. The name “Jol-prin-gram” uses both the suffixes respectively, “Pringa” and “gram”. Needless to say, anyone who has ever been to Kathmandu knows that Thankot is located on a hill. When the Lichhavis took over the Nepal valley, they also took over already existing Kirata towns and made it their own. The Lichhavis changed the name “Jolpringram” to “Jayapalikagram” and made it their trade hub. Thus, most towns of the Kirata era are today important centers of modern Kathmandu.
There isn’t many historical data from which we can derive what the Nepal valley Kiratas were like in ancient times. There are a few documents and Lichhavi inscriptions from which we can decipher their social and religious understanding. It is certain that the Kiratas spoke a very distinctive language that didn’t have any relation with the Sanskrit language of the Lichhavi people. The word “gram” in Lichhavi inscriptions is of Sanskrit origin but the word “Pringa” isn’t. So we can fairly ascertain that the word gram was a suffix added by the Lichhavis. The word Pringa, is believed to have changed into “Pang” today, which is a popular word among the modern Kiratis, which means village.
We can safely assume that the words for the three prominent cities during the time must have been Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur. Lichhavi inscriptions mention that there was a city named Yala (which must have been Patan) and Khopringga, which was Bhaktapur. Even today, Newars call these cities Ya, Yala, and Khope.
The Kiratas lived mostly in Gokarna (Ahidumgram), building a palace and in their spare time killing jackals around it. But a number of places in the Kathmandu valley had become important to the Kiratas. Even before the Kiratas moved to Gorkarna and their fortified palace there, Yalambar is believed to have built his capital at the confluence of the Bagmati and Bishnumati rivers. Once he built his palace there, he named it Huwang. Today, the locals know the place as Vadha. While the confluence of these rivers may have shifted to today’s “Teku” (since the rivers significantly dried up), in the ancient days, it was situated around the “Kuleswor/Balkhu” area.
Later on, Patan is where Patuka Hang built his palace, thereby naming the place “Yala” (after Yalambar). Patan itself is a name that comes from Patuka. However up around the Lele region in Lalitpur, there seems to have been a Kirati palace which was destroyed by the Lichhavis to again reconstruct it as their own.
As I mentioned before, Jolpringgram (Thankot) is still of exclusive importance to analyze if we are to know more about the history of the Kiratas. It is important to note that the Lichhavi King Basantadeva left an inscription here which talks about the 18 skills of the Kiratas, also known as the “Astadasa Prakritin”. The 18 skills are as follows:
1. Wood work 2. Mud Brick work 3. Stone Work 4. Pottery 5. Textile 6. Fishing 7. Wool Production 8. Armory & Weaponry 9. Hunting 10. Farming 11. Business 12. Brewing 13. Metal Work 14. Architecture 15. Road/Bridge Building 16. Music 17. Medicine 18. Religious work
Could it be that these 18 skills or Division of Labor was what led the Hindus to develop their own 18 sets of skills or divisions? The Kirata “Astadasa Prakritin” was so influential to the social setup that various dynasties that came after them could not disapprove of it even when the Kiratas had completely left the Kathmandu valley. In fact, they based their social setup on this, and also with the other 18 skills they later developed, the social structure was divided into 36 gilded skills, hence leading to the infamous “Char Jaat, Chattis Varna” in Nepal.
