Author: Vishal Eli Chamling

The inhabitants of the grand Himalayan belt, from the highlands of Ladakh in the west to the narrow valleys of Arunachal Pradesh to the east, and squeezed between the great Tibetan plateau to the north and the vast Gangetic plains to the south, have enjoyed a true democratic nature of religious harmony for hundreds of years, if not thousands. The people of the Himalayas have always chosen to follow religious beliefs that have suited them, individually or socially. Even today, in this belt, name a belief and you will find someone following it. Influences from different belief systems seem to thrive greatly amongst the ever accommodating, simple, and God-fearing people from the abode of the snow.

However, it wasn’t always so; at least not in the case of Shamanism and Vajrayana Buddhism in Tibet. From the mythical legend of the journey of Ngathi Tsanpo, a Kaurava prince from the epic of Mahabharat, who fled north, after the Kurukshetra war, and founded Yarlung Dynasty as the first King of Tibet, to the inception of Vajrayana in the 7th Century AD, and to the present time of the 14th Dalai Lama, Tibet has lived through the period of a radical shift from its occultic Shamanistic faith of Bon, to an institutionalized religious system of different schools of Tibetan Buddhism and ecclesiastical philosophy today.

From the Totemism of Africa, Tengrism of Mongolia, Bon of Tibet, Animism of the Himalayas; different names with similar practices can be found in the widespread beliefs among the people of these lands, who were afraid of and prayed to the various manifestations of the forces of nature, the living and the dead alike.

In recent memory, from the written scriptures of Vajrayana tantras, these beliefs began to slowly wane in the Tibet-Himalayan region after the arrival of a great tantric guru from the western Himalayas; the one who is revered today as Guru Rinpoche, the Precious Master. Although the Vajrayana tantras originated in India around the 5th Century AD, the principal Lotsawas (translators of Buddhist texts) from Tibet, like the great Sambhota, Janasutra, Vairotsana, Yudra Nyingpo, Rinchen Zangpo, and Marpa among many in between 7th to 12th Century AD, contributed greatly to give the form and structure of the traditionally oral method of teaching.

In Christianity, there is the transition from the Old Testament, where the Book of Leviticus talks greatly of sacrificial rituals and festivals to the New Testament, where Lord Jesus Christ ends these traditions with his ultimate sacrifice for the sins of mankind. In Buddhism, there is actually an interesting antithesis in its narrative vis-à-vis Christianity. While the Tripitaka chronicles the life and philosophy of Lord Buddha who, himself lived and preached the life of middle path and compassion, in an analogous way like Lord Jesus Christ did with righteousness and love, in the New Testament; the later chronicled tantric texts of the Vajrayana Buddhism, like the Kriya Tantra, Dzongchen Tantra, Mahayoga Tantra, and so on are replete with symbolic sacrificial rituals, derived from Bon, which are reminiscent of the Old Testament.

How and why did this transformation occur has, in theory, much to do with the ubiquitous practice of shamanic tradition of Bon in Tibet. One of the most fascinating legends of this transition can be found in the account of the life of Jetsun Milarepa, who having mastered sorcery based on Bon practices, later regretted and went through a rigorous atonement to get accepted as a student of Marpa, and finally becoming a great lineage holder of Tibetan Buddhism himself.

Although Bon predates Buddhism, they have both co-existed in a paradoxical way by their contradictory beliefs but converging in ritualistic practices. An interesting example to illustrate the case is the usage of offering the Torma to the protector deities. Incidentally, the Torma offering is a pacifistic Buddhist version of the bloody animal sacrifices of the erstwhile Bon tradition. Today, even the Bon of the modern environment has taken a non-violent approach to appeasing its deities. The Yungdrung Kundraling Bon Monastery in South Sikkim, one of the seventeen existing Bon monasteries in the Himalayan belt, can be mistaken for a Buddhist monastery. Only the keen eyes and subject experts can spot the differences.

Another convergence in practice is the usage of Phurba (Vajrakilaya) or the ritual dagger, which is widely accepted as the object popularized by Guru Rinpoche, but at the same time has a history in Bon rituals preceding the Vajrayana tradition.

Although not commonly heard in the popular retelling of the spiritual history of the Himalayas, the mythical founder of Bon, Tonpa Shenrab, today, draws similar retelling of his birth and life, in the same vein as the lives of Guru Rinpoche and Shakyamuni Buddha. Like I said, for the ever-accommodating and simple people of the Himalayas, faith is not a subject to challenge. Hence, Tonpa Shenrab, co-exists today alongside Guru Padmasambhva & Buddha.

One of the most important factors in keeping with the harmony of beliefs in the Himalayas is the acceptance that God is beyond human understanding. The people of the mountains don’t try to question the existence of Gods, and their designs on humans. Both the Bon and the Buddhist believe in life after death. Both believe in the celestial universe, deities, sentient beings, and the sum of their appeasement.  Both inherently believe in karma and the principle of cause and effect.

This synergy of beliefs can be a great lesson for the world today. When there is a chronicled schism within some major religions due to their beliefs, here are Bon and Buddhism, with differences in metaphysics, yet united in people and practices. This is the symbiosis that the world needs in modern times.

To live in a naturally beautiful place that is being destroyed by the selfish designs of human beings is a great dilemma when you are a part of the very society that has led to the outcome. To understand yet to be helpless about this is paralyzing until you realize that the effort you bring about to change may add more to complexity rather than solving it. The answer is also not in ignoring it.

How do we find a perfect balance to solving a problem without creating a new one? Or should ideas be executed despite the consequences of the perpetual motion of creation and destruction? One good begets another good and the same cycle applies to the bad. The endless battle of good versus evil has been taught throughout the history of mankind and we still haven’t learned much from it, have we? Have we been selective in our lessons? That the reward of the good being long, testing, and uncertain but that of the evil being instant with a possibility of absolution? Are we conditioned to be good so evil can rule without much competition?

Nature is being vandalized for the comforts of men of the wealthier kind and yet the seasonal punishment due to natural calamities and weather is hell-bent to make the sufferings of the poor the worst. The elites seem to guide the poor for their own credentials rather than the betterment of the deprived, generally speaking. Oh yes, sure, good works are being done and the awards are being handed out. The audience and the poor clap together. Yet another achievement!

Then there is the corrupt man, whose conscience is ruthless. No age will change the nature of a corrupt man. No boundary is impregnable to satiate his hunger for power.

Ironically, the modern world mocks the primitive man who exists in his bare simplicity and cannot comprehend the progress of artificial intelligence in the nuclear era. This primitive man manures the earth, fodders his cattle, pacifies his ancestors and gods, invokes all the divinities, and offers his harvest while placing his unwavering faith in nature, to whom he obliges his existence.

The contemporary world ignores the nomads who choose to shift rather than build a formidable dwelling system against the natural order of all things seasonal. Not for lack of ingenuity, but for a great deal of reverence for nature.  A tradition that had successfully secured many a thousand years of sustainability. All to be undermined by less than half a century of rabid patronization of earth-abusing machines and farming technologies to cater to the demands of the growing billions.

Let us reminisce, lest we forget the years when the numbers didn’t seem so imposing, the walk not so tedious, the foods that only came from the skies and earth, the comforts that didn’t know the demands; the hard work of the father, the love of the mother and the abundance of faith.

In the 21st Century, an era of technological advancement and the age of the millennials, talking about tribal customs and traditions is sure to make you unmake friends. As younger people talk more about Instagram reels, YouTube shorts,  and nanotechnology, it is seemingly difficult to get ethical and ethnical messages across the preoccupied minds of today’s progressive generation.

But sooner or later, for many young Khambus, the reality will crash in with a bang. The realization will dawn and they will begin to frantically search for the answers i.e. if their families still follow Khambu rituals and tradition. For most, seeking the help of the elders in the house will be an exercise in the collection of rhetorical proclamations that will make you feel alien to the Khambu world. The decades of conversions into different faiths, the internal strife created by cosmopolitan ideas, and rapid modernization, having taken a toll on the idea of being who you are, put one in a not-so-ideal situation to be in. But as a wise man, whose name escapes my memory at the moment, once said, “the quest for an answer is the beginning of wisdom”.

For young Khambus, the moment of realization usually begins when a member of the family leaves for another realm. ‘Sima’ or the passing away of a family member is a profound moment that also brings you to the humble understanding of life, as seen through the traditions of Khambus. The post-funeral ritual of “Lam-Pakma”, while providing a theatrical affair for the village audience, brings a cathartic experience for the bereaved family. It is the moment when you either feel spiritually connected or feel ostracized in the awakening moment of being Khambu.

If your young mind has thus awakened to the idea of being Khambu, then these are some rudimentary elements that are specific only to Khambus and those which one must be well versed in order to interconnect when you are in the universe of Khambu Rais.

1. Pachha
In a gathering of Khambus, the ultimate method amongst Khambus to break the ice is by inquiring about each other’s Pachha. And if you discover the other’s Pachha is the same as yours, then it calls for a celebration of finding an extended family member. The Pachha is the male hereditary lineage of a Khambu family.

2. Samet
While Pachha tracks a single bloodline ancestry, Samet identifies the origin of the whole clan. Therefore, identifying one’s Samet is necessary to carry out the rituals properly.

3. Samkha & Samkhalung
Every Khambu household practicing Khambu traditions must unequivocally have a Samkha which is a dedicated room containing sacred three upright hearthstones collectively known as Samkhalung. The importance of having these cannot be stressed more as every Khambu ritual begins and ends with the invocation of Khambu ancestors here.

4. Mangpa / Mangma
Mangpa or Mangma are the Khambu Shamans whose services are crucial to carrying out Khambu rituals. They are the divine children of the forest spirits and every Khambu must be aware of their importance in our society.

5. Mangkhim
Although Mangkhim is a recent addition to the post-modern Khambu world, there are ample pieces of evidence of it having existed in ancient Khambu history. Mangkhim can be generally translated as ‘the house of divine spirits’.

6. Mangsewa
Mangsewa is Khambu equivalent of Hindu “Puja”,  Christian “Mass” or Islamic “Namaz”. Khambus offer prayers and oblations to the divine spirits and lineage ancestors during Mangsewa. In Khambu languages, the word ‘Mang’ means divine spirit and ‘Sewa’ is veneration.

7. Sakela
Today, Sakela is observed by Khambus throughout the world as a cultural festival. While that is acceptable for the most part, a Khambu must realize that Sakela is much more than just a cultural festival. It is the very foundation of being Khambu. Sakela is the bridge to understanding our bond with nature and the divine spirits.

There! When you are well versed in the above 7 topics you can comfortably reassure yourself on the journey of rediscovering your roots.

Once, a Khambu friend asked me matter of factly, “Isn’t my surname enough to identify me as a Khambu? Why should I prove myself further that I am indeed a Khambu?”

I told him, “Sure, but what use is the seed of a fruit tree that doesn’t sprout, grow roots, and bear no foilage and fruits?”

“You live in houses now, we lived in caves then. This was our home”, spoke a deep masculine voice out of a female body which sat in a calm meditative trance. It was like your grandfather telling you stories where you listened, attentive and in awe. This was the experience that I had when I first visited the caves of Thang’kuh in the year exactly ten years before.

Located in an idyllic roadside village below  Pubong Fatak, enroute Sukhiapokhari, it is about 15 km south west of Darjeeling. It also goes famously by the name ‘Galdang-Guldung’ meaning ‘tumbling or to tumble’ , chiefly because of how the caves are formed, as if the big rocks have tumbled and formed them by landing on top of each other. The Ancestors, however, have a different tale to tell.

Yaboh Sam Sum Chu, the Supreme Ancestor of the five primordial ancestors, explains in an ancient oral discourse, Mundhum, that Yaboh Chendum carried the big rocks with his big bare hands and flew from “Himsekh”, the mountains to shelter the ancestors who had decided to rest here. They spent eons here until one day Yaboh Yanghayang – the Warrior and his consort Yangangini went into Samadhi in one of the caves to return to Sa’mah’yoh, the eternal world

“They played here and they made merry, your clan”, continued Yaboh Sam Sum Chu as he stroked his beard from a feminine chin of the Numaang, Sabi Subba, who was still in a meditative state. The beard was invisible to us, a small crowd of believers, seated on the stony floor of the main cave but the stroking was unmistakably precise. I have a similar beard so I know.

“Oh, the playful, the mischievous Yaboh Chyapu would bother the quiet and wise Yaboh Pfapa Sangey”, he reminisced and suddenly exclaimed, “Sa’wa’la!”, signalling for the chöd drum and chöpen to be brought to him. Anil Rai, a long haired attendant of the Numaang,  rushed instantly with his head bowed in reverence and on his knees, to hand over the instruments to Yaboh Sam Sum Chu. The atmosphere inside the cave was that of an era that was not of this age. The serene forest cover and the clear blue sky outside complimented the astral experience.

Almost abruptly the ringing of a mobile phone from the crowd brought me back to the millennium.

Yaboh Sam Sum Chu wasn’t perturbed by the ringing phone as he continued to sing the Mundhum with a perfect beat of the drums never missing the tempo.

Khambu, a tribe so vast and once so mighty, dispersed in clans (tharrs), languages, now spread across the globe but united with the spirit of Sakela.  Albeit not without its own share of the now legendary curse of dissent amongst the multitude of us, to some it is also known as Sakewa, Sakenwa and so on. Khambus of the Himalayan belt have been celebrating Sakela since the legends of Sumnima & Paruhang have been chronicled. Somewhere along the line, we have deviated from receiving the blessings of our ancestors who had worshipped mother nature and the father universe. Since then we have blamed the regime that was, the faith conversions that have followed and in the name of new found Gods, have conveniently forgotten to worship our mother, who has selflessly nurtured us for ages and for generations ever so unfailingly.

Every Khambu must be inquisitive enough to seek an answer for any question that pertains to the very foundation of being Khambu itself. For what are we without our story?

But this is not about how the story begins or how it ends. It is about how the story must continue.

One of the major predicaments of Sakela is in its inability to reach a consensual date of its observation. What was in the past a ritual combined with the time of harvest, nomadic movement of the clan, positioning of the moon and the migratory flights of the birds, is now conveniently observed from the month of Mangshir to the month of Baisakh following less of the tradition apart from the Udhauli and the Ubhauli. Different regions observe Sakela at different dates. Although there is a vast difference in essence,  in character, Sakela is similar to the Buddhist festival of Tshechu, which is also observed throughout the year during auspicious months corresponding to the Tibetan lunar Calendar. Like the monks who burn midnight lamps to work out auspicious dates for Tshechus, the Nakchongs of Khambus also task upon themselves to ascertain appropriate time for Sakela.

But unlike the Tshechu which is celebrated in the honor of Guru Rinpoche, the founder of Vajrayana Buddhism in the Himalayas, Sakela is observed in our obeisance to Mother Nature. Like the Tshechus, where the focal point of the ceremony is the Chaam; in Sakela, the Sili takes centerstage to impart us the valuable lessons of life. 

With so many clans co-existing together in the Himalayan belt since ages, most of them have succeeded in corresponding their festival to certain calendar dates today. The Khambus have yet to reach a unanimous decision on selecting a calendar date. Hence, by virtue of being a populous Himalayan clan, the dissent has been a boon and bane.

It may seem discordant to observe a five month long festival without a universal calendar marking and without proper organization. However, like nature, which is beyond rules and still within, the Khambus must also find harmony in the variablity of celebrating Sakela while staying true to its spirit.

The spirit of Sakela is the coming together of little children playing in the laps of their mother.