Echoes from the Garhwal Hills

MOST studies about North Indian society have focused on the regions of the Indo-Gangetic plain,
neglecting the region of the Central Himalaya comprising what is now the state of Uttarakhand.1.
Because of its physical inaccessibility and difficult terrain, the area remained largely insulated from the
mainstream socio-political life of the country. Consequently not much was known about the land and
the people other than what was contained in the reports of a few enterprising divisional commissioners
of the then British Raj. It was only in the late 19th and early 20th century that studies were carried out
to explore its past.
Garhwal, a part of Uttarakhand, is mentioned as Kedar Khand in the Skanda Purana and in the Vana
Parva of the Mahabharata. The original inhabitants of this land were Kols, descended from the Munda
ethnic group. It is believed that they were pushed into the hills by the Dravidians retreating into this
region in the face of the Aryan onslaught from the northwest. In mediaeval times there were successive
waves of migrations to this region from the Gangetic plain, Punjab and Rajasthan. Subsequently, the
Kiratas came in from the east and forced the Kol-Mundas to seek shelter in remote valleys. Then came
the Khasas from the west, who subjugated both the Kols and the Kiratas. Many other races including the
Nagas and the Huns also came and intermixed with different waves of immigrants. The Khasas were
dominated by the people who came from the Indo-Gangetic plain. In the early 14th century, Ajay Pal of
the Parmar dynasty united the region by bringing 52 principalities under his sovereign rule. Since then it
has been known as Garhwal.
In colonial times, the middle class which emerged in India was trying to find an identity for itself by a
complex process of negotiation which Bhabha has called ‘Colonial Mimicry.’2 With resistance to British
imperial culture, arenas evolved in the public sphere to provide discursive space for citizens, particularly
the nationalists, to foster public opinion against the colonial hegemony which was directly impacting
their lives. Garhwal, however, could not actively take its place in such discursive space. Owing to its
remoteness, and the underprivileged status and non-literacy of a large majority of its people, it could
not form ‘an imagined community’ with the rest of the country. In recent decades literacy rates have
registered an impressive increase. However, Garhwal’s indigenous culture, in particular its folklore
transmitted mainly through oral narratives, did play a role in helping construct the ideology of the
groups living here. It may be stressed that folklore3 construed as an ‘autotelic’ ensemble travelling from
group to group and not as ‘autonomous cultural expressions’4 is integral to understanding a culture, and
is expressive of ‘the symbolic language of the non-literate part’5 of one’s self.
The unique environment of Garhwal has conditioned the outlook, manners, customs and traditions of
the people living here.6 Their folklore has traditionally made them feel connected and enabled them to
articulate their life’s experiences and aspirations. This rich folklore sheds light on the social and cultural
conditions of the region. It makes innumerable references to medieval times, contextualizing religious,
social and political history. Hence the study of folklore has great historical significance apart from its
intrinsic cultural value. The local bards have preserved the legends, which have come down to us mainly
through oral tradition.
Historically Garhwal has seen an admixture of the Aryan and the indigenous cultures, which is evident in
the coexistence of the Great Tradition of learning and culture as opposed to the Little Tradition of the
indigenes.7 There is, however, a symbiotic relationship between the two. Robert Redfield’s contention
that ‘in a civilization, there is a Great Tradition of the reflective few and a Little Tradition of the largely
unreflective many’8 takes a patronizing view of what he calls ‘the unreflective many’. A rich repertoire
of folklore in India incorporates not only the texts of the Great Tradition but also the innumerable
variables of it found in the indigenous cultures constituting the Little Tradition. Written and hallowed
texts are not the only texts in a culture such as the Indian. Oral traditions of every kind have produced
texts and ‘cultural performances’9 which are enacted at various ceremonies or social rituals.
Furthermore, every cultural performance not only creates texts but also carries them forward as the
dynamics of folklore.
Although the caste system, with its attendant discriminatory practices and distribution of power among
various groups, has been a pervasive feature of Garhwali society, a distinctive feature of it is that the
scheduled caste ‘doms’, who are mostly artisans, are not treated with contempt. Their traditional rights
which are socially recognized, have acquired statutory sanction, and their interactions with the higher
castes are reflected in many of the rituals and customs of the people. This can also be attributed to the
amalgamation of the Brahmanical tradition and the mediaeval Bhakti tradition, represented by Kabir
and Dadu who were popular among the ‘low’ castes in Garhwal and created several of the gathas or
narratives. The influence of Gorakhnath was particularly pronounced. The gathas related to Nirankar,
popular among the ‘low’ castes, are obviously influenced by the Kabir and the Nirguna traditions. These
legends are often critical of orthodox Brahmanism. Such narratives were composed or altered by
different social groups to legitimize their beliefs.
A prominent form of Garhwal folklore, known as jagar, incorporates such narratives. Living in close
proximity of the snow-clad mountains, the people living in the hills have assimilated beliefs in the spirits,
gods and demons that characterize their mythology. The interplay of the Great and Little Tradition is
conspicuous in the Jagar Gathas of Uttarakhnad. Jagar is a ‘spirit possession ceremony’ (or séance), in
which a deity is invoked, through the medium of a chosen person, to the accompaniment of ritual music
of drums and singing of religious narratives – the gathas. Presiding over the ceremony is a jagariya. This
is a priest conversant with the spirit lore. He invokes various gods like Nagaraja or Narsingh with his
incantations, while playing on his donr, (also known as damaun) a sort of kettledrum, and thali, a bronze
plate. His incantations and the musical rhythm trigger a sudden response in the medium who then
reflexively sways to the tune and comes under the spell of the spirit. The spirit then renders appropriate
counsel for the well-being of the family. The jagariyas, invariably from the ‘dom’ caste, are called upon
to perform the ritual to cure illnesses in the family, to appease ancestral spirits or to ward off
misfortunes. An unrequited spirit can also be summoned through an appropriate ritual. The jagariya is in
a commanding position at the ceremony and the privilege extended to him can be seen as
empowerment of the ‘low’ castes, since it involves appropriation of a high caste status, which otherwise
the caste groups resent. In fact jagariyas are viewed with awe and respect by all sections of the hill
society.
Various deities, many of them feminine, are eulogized in the gathas. Many gathas follow Puranic
traditions and themes, coloured by local beliefs reflecting the material realities of life. They show the
influence of Vaishnvism associated with Krishna, Rukmini, Pandavas, and also of the Sakti cult associated
with Siva and Parvati. The popularity of Parvati is evident in Nanda Ki Gatha, which shows the intense
desire of Nanda (another name for Parvati) for her father’s home. She was married to Siva, the ascetic,
an apparently unequal match for her. Contrary to the orthodox depiction of Parvati’s unquestioning
devotion to Siva, her insistent longing for her parental home carries the undertone of an unhappy and
unequal marriage. The subtext of the narrative reflects the hard lives of Garhwali women, their
alienation and their longing for the familiar environs of the parental home. A popular jagar gatha goes
like this:
Char din swami, mee mait jayondawu,
Raat deen Gaura tweeko kano mait hoyu?
Byali saanj bodi mee mait jayondu
Aaj raat bodi swami mee mait jayodo
Saanj ko sabere Nanda tyaro kano mait hoye?
Bhai bhateejon ki swami khud lagi rain
Budya bwe babu ki bhi khud lagi rain
Kuyi baini deene baba na saina Sirinagar
Kuyi baini deene baba na banka Bangarh
Kui baini deene baba na naulakha Salaan
Kui baini deene baba na kali Kumaon
Sabu se ladali mee dinyu yeen Trisuli
Twe baba par meru saraap padyan
Jain dilayee hols meeku tain bhangphuka jogi ku10
(My lord let me go to my father’s home just for four days
O Gauri, what is this talk of father’s home day and night?
Only last evening you said you wanted to go there
You repeated it in the night
What is this home that you keep harping on?
My lord I sorely miss my siblings,
And I think of my old parents
My father sent out in marriage
One of my sisters to the plains of Srinagar
Another was sent off to the lovely land of Bangarh
Another was married off to Salaan
While the fourth was sent off to Kali Kumaon
I, the darling daughter have been condemned to this Trisul
Curse be upon you, my father
Who has married me this Jogi ever stoned)
Since women do not have real choice in matters of marriage, mismatched marriages are all too common
in Garhwal. Women use songs to express their reluctance to change homes and leave their familiar
environment. Several reasons are given – dislike of the husband for being too old, his unsympathetic
behaviour, hostility of the in-laws and hard work expected of them. There is a substantial degree of male
migration in these parts and the menfolk remain away from their villages for long periods of time doing
odd jobs in the cities. In their absence women have to rely upon their own resourcefulness. They have to
live, work and raise families virtually by themselves. Their travails are related in their songs, through
which they unburden themselves of their sorrows. These songs follow the moods, seasons, activities and
life cycle events, touching upon every stage of a woman’s life cycle – recounting her several roles at
home and in society. Even the love songs that describe the beauty and accomplishments of a woman,
enumerate the qualities which would make her ‘useful’ in the in-laws’ family. The subtext of patriarchy
is all too evident in such songs. Mangal geet or the songs sung at weddings invoke gods and goddesses
to consecrate the ceremony and bless the couple with the birth of a boy.
While the social functions of folklore have been identified as education, maintaining group identity,
amusement or entertainment, what is more important is that folklore performs a ‘safety valve function’
which not only relieves the pent-up emotions of the woman but also subverts the prevailing attitudes
and institutional practices. The cultural sphere of folklore in traditional societies is effectively used to
articulate protest and dissent as well as aspirations. Thus it generates an alternative potential for the
quest for emancipation from oppressive patriarchal systems. In effect it provides ‘a cultural poetics’11
for social communication. As a ‘medium of expression,’12 these songs are a channel of communication
and a creative act by which rural women identify themselves and feel empowered.
There is a distinct genre of folk lyrics, known as khuder geet, which are meant to stir the filial longings in
the heart of a woman separated from her father’s home. She calls upon nature to help her glimpse the
home she misses. A popular lyric goes like this:
Hey unchi dandiyun tum nisi java,
Ghani kulayun tum chhanti howa,
Main lagin cha khud maitura ki
Baba ji ko mait dekhan deva.13
Which can be rendered as:
Bend down ye hills,
Disperse ye crowded pines,
Let me see my father’s home,
My heart for that place pines.
Such songs, which obviously deal with the natural environment, take on an ecological perspective since
they gain a context against the backdrop of bountiful nature with rich forests, streams etc. If the
exploitation of forests goes on, it will be difficult to visualize what the song describes. In fact such
scenarios against the backdrop of dense forests, as alluded to in the song, are already getting rarer with
the drive for modernization in the Uttarakhand hills. This drive has picked up momentum with the land
and forest mafia becoming active ever since the creation of the hill state in the year 2000.
With the reigning discourse of globalization, the process of ‘cultural de-differentiation’14 has also set in.
Since the modernizing enterprise privileges the elite over the folk and the literary over the oral, it is the
elite who appropriate the right to express the folk, and thereby interpret their lore as they wish and not
as it ought to be. In the regime of globalization there is a tendency towards greater homogenization,
which undermines the claims of its advocates to encourage recognition of cultural relativism and
localized traditions. It creates a dichotomous situation for the representation and interpretation of
folklore and its underlying subtexts. As economic forces become increasingly obdurate, the weaker
groups, especially the women, are marginalized. Yet, even as it tends to support the institutions and
behaviour patterns of a culture, folklore has a remarkable capacity for acculturation, assimilation,
adjustment and conservation. In the realm of popular culture, it acquires fluidity. It is shared and
disseminated. Folklore has not remained unaffected by the processes of globalization. It is changing its
form and content day by day as it re-shapes cultural identities. In India technologies are being exploited
to preserve the oral by creating archives for its documentation and dissemination. Considerable work
has been done in this regard at the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts in New Delhi, the Bhasha
Research Centre in Baroda and the Adivasi Academy in Tejgadh.
The women in Garhwal traditionally constitute the backbone of the hill economy as they have to engage
in multiple roles. They have a crucial role in agriculture, in livestock management as well as in various
household chores. Men are usually concerned with ploughing the fields and in construction and repair of
their houses. The forests of the Garhwal Himalaya have been central to the livelihood of the people.
Prior to British intervention in 1815, community institutions of the hill peasantry, such as the village
panchayats, had effectively exercised control over the use and management of both cultivated and
uncultivated lands within customary village boundaries. They respected the conservation values
embedded in local culture and religious traditions such as the maintenance of sacred groves – sections
of forest dedicated to deities or ancestral spirits. The groves were meant to be left undisturbed for ever.
In the Hindu worldview nature has a ritual significance, and a form of utilitarian conservatism as
opposed to protectionist conservatism is generally followed.15 However, under colonial rule, and even
after independence, the state-managed Forest Department made increasing penetration into the hills
(this was intensified following the border road building activities urgently taken up after the Sino-Indian
War of 1962). These activities proved ecologically degrading. The local people argued that
developmental activities and ecological concerns should also address the needs of the poor.
Unfortunately the Indian state, and development agencies such as the World Bank, seemingly
disregarded the historical, cultural and spiritual ties of the people with the land which, in development
discourse, is considered as merely a commodity.16 In fact top-down interventions through World Bank
funded projects in Uttarakhand have resulted in disrupting and marginalizing people’s struggles and
achievements, transferring power and authority to the Forest Department and the local elite. They are
insensitive to the dynamic functioning of existing self-governing institutions, and the women’s ongoing
struggles within them, to gain greater voice in and control over forest resources to improve their quality
of life and livelihood security.17
Amidst contesting approaches to development18 there arose a powerful environment movement. Early
in 1973 the Dasholi Gram Swarajya Mandal, a small co-operative of artisans in Chamoli district founded
and led by Chandi Prasad Bhatt, requested permission from the Forest Department to fell two ash trees
from the forest near the village of Mandal, for wood to make agricultural implements with. They were
refused permission. At the same time a commercial firm from the plains was granted permission to fell
trees. The villagers devised a plan to stop the commercial felling and decided to act on Bhatt’s
suggestion: ‘Let them know that we will not allow the felling of ash trees. When they aim their axes
upon them, we will embrace the trees.’19
Thus was born the Chipko Movement20 (Chipko, Hindi for ‘to stick to’, or ‘to hug’). The movement
cannot be romanticized as a ‘return to some pristine traditional village life.’21 Rather, as a functional
livelihood strategy, the women fought determinedly to prevent the complete clearance of their
forest.22 In the face of repeated protests by the villagers, the commercial firm was forced to retreat.
The movement recorded its first success. By going beyond their immediate local need to embrace a
wider spatial and temporal universe, Chipko became a ‘meaningful social movement with regional
implications.’23 It addressed a serious concern of many hill people that the state’s management of
forests offered few dividends to the locals in this already economically marginalized area, and further,
that it degraded the ecological base upon which local people depended. The steep slopes of the middle
Himalaya do not offer rich agricultural pickings, though the forests provide essential inputs of fertilizer
(in the form of leaf mulch), grazing, fodder, fuel and a host of other non-timber forest produce, such as
medicinal herbs, fibres and foodstuff. Given this situation, the alienating and often deeply insensitive
encroachments of colonial forestry laws, which prevented the villagers from making use of any forest
wealth in their region, provoked strong resistance of the people.24
The Chipko activists included village women and men, Gandhians such as Sarla Behn, Mira Behn, the
Gandhian environmentalist Sunderlal Bahuguna and his wife, Vimala, and Chandi Prasad Bhatt,
members of forest labour cooperatives, students from leftist political parties and others. This wide
range of participants gave Chipko diverse strategies. It was termed as a movement, ‘a path towards a
green earth and a true civilization’ and an ‘explicitly ecological and feminist movement.’25
Particular mention must be made of Gaura Devi. At the village of Raini in Chamoli district, when the
contractors of the forest department were about to fell trees, she mobilized 27 women who rushed to
the forest and clung to the marked trees, forcing the contractor’s men to withdraw. As recounted by
Gaura Devi, ‘Our men were out of the village so we had to come forward and protect the trees. We have
no quarrel with anybody but we only wanted to make the people understand that our existence is tied
with the forests.’26
The demonstration at Reini marked the major entry of women into the Chipko movement. Gaura Devi
has become part of folklore for the way in which she represents the central features of the movemnt,
the economic stance, women as protectors of nature and the power of the local people. The life of
Gaura Devi has become the subject of a folk song by Dhan Singh Rana, a local bard who narrates her
life’s struggle thus:
Today, Gaura, the people remember you,
Today again our environment is exposed to destruction.
You are benevolent, you come to our minds.
Always you were poor, but never without honour and wisdom.
You cared for all the villages during both happiness and grief,
You never cared for yourself, only for others.

It was Gaura, who called upon the people: ‘Save the forest!’
Who inspired the women to come to the forest,
With their bare hands the women went to the jungle
And like the voice of the forest she spoke up:
"Do not break our affinity to the forest, rooted since generations.
Sisters, let yourselves be cut with the trees, but do not abandon and leave.
Cling to the trees, hug them, but don’t let them be cut.
These, the property of the hills – don’t let them steal them.
Women, you who are the beloveds of the forest, hug the trees!"

The villagers one after the other took the responsibility as chaukidars,
In the whole country the news from our forest spread.
As long as the jungle remains, Gaura, your memory too will remain.

Your selfless actions resulted in your remaining poor.

In 1991, when you were ill, nobody looked after you.
Without any money you had no chance to get healed.
Mother of the greenery, Gaura, you went to heaven.
Death called upon you and you went empty-handed.

You are like Bhagwati, Gaura, you have done great work.
As long as the earth exists your name will remain.
In the name of the environment people exploit the world.
Still today in your hills the forests are cut.
Take birth again, Gaura, and fly into rage,
No matter where, but take birth again and fly into rage.
In this world of injustice, show your miracle again.27
Here Gaura is treated almost like a mythological figure who is urged to take birth again and to help the
common people in their struggle against injustice. She is like the Goddess Devi incarnated as
mahisasurmardini to slay the demon of injustice.
Chipko often gets highlighted in eco-feminist discourse, which is based on the woman/culture
connection. Vandana Shiva sees the women, particularly the rural women as ‘embedded in nature.’28 It
is true that women universally have some fundamental sensitivity to the land, air and water with which
they are intimately associated and have a stronger ‘ethic of care’ for others, including the environment.
According to Shiva, women are the custodians of Prakriti – nature or the feminine principle – which is
the manifestation of Shakti, the divine feminine creative energy of the cosmos. Prakriti seeks to nurture
and maintain the harmony and diversity of the natural forests as a life source from which men and
developed industrial cultures are alienated, and which must be recovered. When this holistic view is
replaced by the commercial paradigm it signifies for women ‘simultaneously a beginning of their
marginalization, devaluation, displacement and ultimate dispensability.’29 This transformation is
triggered by the arrival of the masculinist, reductionist, industrial and colonizing forces. According to
Shiva the equation between ecological self-sustenance and the feminine principle is undermined by the
exploitative forces of global capitalism:
An ecologically sustainable future has much to gain from the world-views of ancient civilizations and
diverse cultures which survived sustainably over centuries. These were based on an ontology of the
feminine as the living principle… Not merely did this result in an ethical context which excluded
possibilities of exploitation and domination, it allowed the creation of an earth family.30
It is in this context that the activism of the women like Gaura Devi, Sarla Behn and Vimala Bahuguna is
seen as a significant intervention. Sunderlal Bahuguna himself, while underlining women’s power,
concedes, ‘We are the runners and messengers – the real leaders are the women.’31
The ecological protest movements in the Himalayan region have always operated within the structural
principles of democracy and democratic organizations. The slogan of a movement launched by the
women of Garhwal, known as ‘Rakhi Bandho Movement’, goes
Paidon ka tum sun lo krandan
Kar do unka Raksha Bandhan
(Listen to the cries of trees.
Protect them by tying rakhis to them)
So the women tied rakhis to the trees, as if they were their brothers. Even men followed suit, overriding
the inherent gender connotation. Women and men took collective onus for the protection of the trees.
The slogan made an emotional appeal and invoked tradition to involve people in organizing protest. The
folk invocation hopes that the day is not far when the Himalaya shall awaken in its full glory and the
killer axe shall cease to exist:
Aaj Himalaya jaagega
Kroor kulhara bhagega
The people of the Garhwal hills have nurtured a fascinating culture. It is in this spirit that the folklore of
Garhwal tells us not only about reverence for all life but also takes us closer to the elemental forces that
sustain life. The study of folklore can result in greater environmental awareness.32 Much needs to be
done by way of research in this area. Today we have analytical tools provided by social anthropology,
literary criticism, and popular culture, which can be used to analyze and document the narratives,
including the oral narratives that go into the making of the folklore of Garhwal, to study it in the context
of society, gender and environment, and to understand the nature of dissent, protest and social change
in the hill community.