Floating Around Like Clouds

I dreamed I was walking over the Himalayas, over icy peaks and into untold realms, where no man had been. What would it take for a man, sing...

I dreamed I was walking over the Himalayas, over icy peaks and into untold realms, where no man had been. What would it take for a man, singular and determined, to master this domain? Like the legendary Bhotia trader Sunapati Shauka? They say when traversing these mountains, Shauka never descended into the valleys, he flew over the mountain tops.

One hamlet Shauka would have looked down on would have been Munshiari, at the foot of the Panchachuli range, just 50 miles from Tibet. Situated at more than 8000 feet, it was once a bustling Bhotia entrepot, the last roadhead for the flourishing Indo-Tibet trade. Tiny settlements around Munshiari tehsil like Malla, Talla Dummer and Darkot, served dozens of Bhotias en route to the famed glacier of Milam, 56 km higher, where the source of the Goriganga lies.

Today a motorable road from Kathgodam and Tanakpur runs through Pithoragarh, in north-east Kumaon Uttaranchal, to continue further north to Munshiari. There are several places to stay and the grand spectacle of the Panchachuli range rising from your doorstep, is unequalled. You can take a trek to the high altitude bugyal or alpine meadows called Khalia Top, or to a crystal lake nearby. It matters little where you turn, the vistas are simply splendid.

There are reliable, accredited guides to take you around but it was only a few decades ago that Bhotia traders navigated these passes, with heavy sacks on their backs, herding their goats and sheep, braving icy winds and treacherous weather. It is indeed sad that these hardy entrepreneurs are now clubbed under a homogeneous nomenclature, 8216;Scheduled Tribe.8217;

Most of the young Bhotia men have migrated to cities in the plains, taking their families with them. There used to be a saying among tribals, 8216;8216;Tibetan woman is like gold, Bhotia women like silver and the Kumaoni woman like poor grade of wheat.8217;8217; Nearly all the Bhotias have abandoned their villages, once strategically close to Tibet but now remote and cut off from the main route, settled close to Munshiari.

Himmat Singh Tolia, a geriatric shopkeeper of Munshiari, vividly remembers his first journey as a lad. It seemed he would never grow up fast enough to be allowed one. A sweet memory of the past was the arrival of Tibetan friends in July, with their flocks of sheep laden with salt, shaking hands and humming while measuring salt and grain with the local measuring pot nali.

Today, the Indo-Tibetan Border Police guard the mountain passes which the Bhotia traders once jealously guarded. It is a straight line across Almora district, from Kapkot to Askot, which constitutes the locally known Bhot or Bhotiya tract. The five inter-Alpine valleys of the snow ranges which borders Tibet at heights varying from 10,000 feet to 13,000 feet was closed to the traders from across after the Indo-Chinese winter war of 1962-63. The subsequent scarcity of salt in Kumaon made the traditional trade highly profitable for the Bhotias.

The 56-km trek to Milam is a delight. The Goriganga river, which runs alongside, is muddy in October. The melting Milam glacier once one of the largest in the world, now considerably shrunk feeds the river. The first stop or padav in local parlance is the Lilam Dak Bungalow, a tin-roof shack, where a retired PWD mate has been appointed caretaker. His weakness, say ITBP jawans at the adjacent camp, is his sweet tooth. 8216;8216;My village is there,8217;8217; he points upwards, 8216;8216;and the most delicious wild mushrooms grow near the mountain peak. My wife picks them regularly.8217;8217;

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The journey to the last village in Milam takes about 10 days. The Goriganga, like the Pindari, Kali, and other rivers in the high mountains have cut deep, steep gorges into the rockface. Steep stony cliffs flank their narrow beds. Higher up, where valleys widen and slopes become gentler, a Bhotia settlement or camping site can be found. South-west is the Nanda Devi, to the east, the Panchachuli range.

The chowkidar of the completely inadequate Dak Bungalow looks wretched and drunk. He points to a shack that declares itself a hotel. It has a fire going and an empty kitchen with a sack of potatoes in the corner. Thankfully, the ITBP camp offers us a meal of hot rice, dal, fresh vegetables and tea. We accept their hospitality with gratitude.

Dawn breaks with the sound of tinkling bells of the hill ponies. You can hear them wherever they are grazing. The sound mingles with the chuini, a tiny black bird which sings in bushes near the gushing Gori river. A few early travellers inform us the road to Rilkot has been washed away due to melting snow.

We go ahead on an alternative route 8212; the villages of Bilju, Martoli and Tola villages are mostly deserted and their houses are in a shambles. The Bhotia community, their distinctive social life, their inimitable tenacity, the incredible nature of their trade journeys are now tales of some legendary past. We reach Milam in the evening, our last contact with civilisation. For Milam, rising above at an altitude of 11,000 feet, is now a relic of the past, a deserted settlement. Where are the Bhotias today? They are now just a number in the census.

The writer is a filmmaker. Her film They Who

Walked Mountains is about the Bhotias.