We had a remarkable experience during our research expedition to the Rongo area in Changthang’s Nyoma block in 2025. We met a village elder, Tsewang Palgay who mentioned a valley between Tiling and Ngyuguchan on the route to Dungti. He said the valley is scattered with desert-varnished boulders and stones with etchings and markings made by ancient humans. These rock surfaces bearing petroglyphs stand as silent testimony to the lives that once animated the high altitude landscapes of Changthang.
Guided by Kaga Palgay, we visited the little-known Tiling valley where he pointed out the petroglyphs that had remained hidden, undiscovered, and unappreciated for centuries. The valley is spread over an approximate area of 434,278 sq. m. The petroglyphs revealed an extraordinary range of motifs including Dong (Figure 1) i.e. wild yak, which are much larger than domestic yak, ibex, snow leopards, lizards, hunting scenes, and symbolic markings. While many of these motifs mirrored familiar themes also seen in Sham and Nubra valleys, others were strikingly distinctive.
Figure 1: Dong motif
One particularly remarkable boulder had a heavily pecked depiction of what appeared to be a gathering (Figure 2). The carving portrays a human figure in a gown-like dress topped with a hat, raising his arms high above his head. Surrounding him are several other figures in what seems like a circle along with some animals. Near this procession, the presence of animals—especially the Dong, illustrated with its distinctive large horns and uplifted hump to emphasise its massive torso—further enriches the narrative conveyed by the stone.
Figure 2: A gathering
Another unique finding was on the edge of an elongated rock where a human figure was etched with his hand raised with an enlarged palm raised towards the sky and his arms piercing past what seems to be an animal carcass (Figure 3). This scene was very distinct as it resembled a hunting scene as he carried his bounty on his shoulder and extended his arm to pierce through it.
Figure 3: Human figure with enlarged palm
There was also a scene of what seemed like a sword-fight with each member carrying a shield-like tool in one hand and a stick or sword in the other (Figure 4). This scene was made in rudimentary style by scratching the surface of the rock instead of pecking it. This piece of art seems to be more recent than the rest.
Figure 4: Sword fight
There were also spirals, ladders and geometric representations drawn, which indicated some form of spiritual belief system. We also observed a representation of a mythical being that wore a helmet with horns and its torso had geometrical shapes including diamonds and circles. It also had long, bent legs and spread-out toes resembling a lizard (Figure 5).
Figure 5: Mythical beigs
The most fascinating find was a pair of anthropomorphic figures riding on the back of an animal that seems to be a later addition to the rock, which had an older zoomorphic figure with multi-tined horns (Figure 6). The zoomorphic figure was done earlier as it has sun-tanned etchings. The landscape of Ladakh has no records of such an animal though there are records from Tibet and Kashmir of an animal called red deer (Hangul in Kashmiri), which has such horns.
Figure 6: Anthropomorphic figures riding a zoomorphic figure with multi-tined horns
It is critical that such priceless artefacts are documented, studied and conserved. It is in this context that Ladags Norskal plays a pivotal role. Initiated by the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Development Council, Leh (LAHDC, Leh), this pioneering project marks an important step towards preserving Ladakh’s past for future generations. It aims to document heritage sites and uncover forgotten narratives from villages across Leh district. Findings such as these highlight the importance of projects like Ladags Norskal, which combine oral history with on-ground research. By bridging memory and material culture, the project is meant to safeguard Ladakh’s tangible heritage while also ensuring that they are documented and shared with public. These findings were very promising as the villagers mentioned that the Indian Army had a base here between 1985 and 1999 but this site remained hidden.
By Jigmet Yangchen Katpa
Jigmet Yangchan Katpa is Research Manager at Ladags Norskal Project, LAHDC, Leh.
Photographs by Thinles Dawa
Field Researchers at Ladags Norskal Project, Rigzin Dolma, Thinles Dawa, and Stanzin Skaldan assisted with the fieldwork.
For the people of Zangskar, reaching a hospital is a challenge. Living in one of the most remote regions of Ladakh means that healthcare is not just about treatment, it is often a race against time. Sadly, despite being the only major government healthcare facility for the region, Community Health Centre, Padum (which now serves as District Hospital, Zangskar) continues to lack even the most basic medical facilities that every citizen deserves.
One of the most alarming issues is that the hospital’s ultrasound machine is not functioning. An ultrasound is not a luxury. It is an essential diagnostic tool used daily especially for pregnant women, emergency cases, abdominal pain, kidney disorders, and many other conditions. When this machine remains out of service, patients are forced to travel hundreds of kilometres simply to undergo a basic investigative test. In emergencies, this delay can be the difference between life and death.
Equally concerning is the absence of a full-time gynaecologist at the hospital. Pregnant women in Zangskar face immense hardships throughout their pregnancy. Regular antenatal check-ups, monitoring of high-risk pregnancies and emergency obstetric care become extremely difficult when there is no specialist available. Many expectant mothers are compelled to travel to Kargil or Leh, enduring long, exhausting, and often dangerous journeys over mountainous roads. During winter, when roads are blocked by heavy snowfall, the situation becomes even more critical.
The hospital also lacks CT scan and MRI facilities, making it impossible to diagnose serious conditions such as strokes, head injuries, internal bleeding, spinal disorders, and neurological diseases without referring patients elsewhere. Every referral means valuable time lost, additional financial burden on families, and increased risk to patients whose conditions may worsen during the journey.
Although doctors and healthcare workers in Padum work tirelessly under difficult circumstances, they cannot provide the level of care that patients deserve without adequate infrastructure and equipment. Their dedication alone cannot replace essential diagnostic machines and specialist doctors.
Healthcare is a fundamental right guaranteed to every citizen. Yet, the people of Zangskar continue to face inequalities simply because of their geographical location. Development should not stop at roads and buildings; it must also ensure access to quality healthcare.
It is important that the Administration of the Union Territory of Ladakh, the Health Department, and all concerned authorities take immediate action to:
– Repair or replace the non-functional ultrasound machine without further delay.
– Appoint a permanent gynaecologist at District Hospital, Zangskar.
– Establish CT scan and MRI facilities in Padum for timely diagnosis.
– Strengthen the hospital with specialist doctors, trained technicians, and adequate medical staff.
The people of Zangskar are not asking for luxury. They are asking for basic healthcare facilities that every district hospital should provide. No pregnant woman should have to travel for hours to meet a specialist. No critically ill patient should lose precious time because essential diagnostic services are unavailable. As a daughter of Zangskar, it is heart-breaking to witness families living with the constant fear that a medical emergency may require an exhausting journey. The resilience of our people is remarkable, but resilience should never be used as a substitute for proper healthcare. It is time for the voices from Zangskar to be heard. We hope this appeal reaches those who have the power to bring meaningful change, because every life in Zangskar is valuable, and every citizen deserves timely, safe, and dignified medical care.
By Obida Akbar
Obida Akbar (Padum) completed her BSc with Honours in Biochemistry from Panjab University, Chandigarh.
The increasing prevalence of drug and substance abuse in Ladakh has emerged as one of the most pressing social concerns of our time. Even two decades back, the idea of widespread drug use among Ladakhi youth was almost unimaginable. Ladakh has long been recognised for its close-knit communities, strong family values, rich cultural traditions, and a way of life deeply rooted in mutual respect and social responsibility. Today, however, the region stands at a critical juncture.
Rapid modernisation, expanding tourism, globalisation, easy access to the internet and the growing influence of social media has transformed Ladakh’s social landscape. While these developments have created opportunities for education and economic growth, they have also exposed young people to new lifestyles, trends, and influences that challenge the region’s traditional social fabric. The resulting identity struggles, changing aspirations, peer pressure, unemployment, and increasing availability of intoxicants have contributed to a worrying rise in drug and substance abuse among sections of the youth.
Adding to these concerns, the recent case where the body of a young woman was recovered near Khardung-la in Leh has further intensified public anxiety. As investigations continue, the possibility of a drug-related crime has prompted serious public discussion about the current state of affairs in Ladakh. At the same time, the newly-announced Excise Policy, which proposes improved access to different kinds of liquor and the opening of new outlets in Ladakh, has also generated widespread public debate. The administration has presented the policy as an effort to address drug abuse and a source of revenue. However, many people have expressed concern that greater accessibility to alcohol could further aggravate existing challenges related to addiction, especially among the youth. It is in this context that we decided to speak with different people with relevant experience to help us understand the drug issue and the Excise Policy.
Mental health professionals in Ladakh emphasise that substance abuse is a multifaceted issue that cannot be attributed to a single cause. They explain that it emerges from the complex interaction of psychological, social, and biological factors. Psychological contributors include poor stress management, ineffective coping mechanisms, depression, anxiety, trauma, loneliness, unresolved emotional distress, low self-esteem, hopelessness, and difficulties in emotional regulation. Social factors such as peer pressure, the desire to fit in, adolescent curiosity, thrill-seeking behaviour, family conflict, neglect, abuse, lack of parental supervision, academic and employment-related stress, uncertainty about the future, and easy access of substances, including inhalants, further increase vulnerability. Mental health professionals also note that genetic predisposition and a family history of addiction or mental illness can elevate the risk of substance dependence. They also expressed concern over the increasing number of broken families and divorces as children from emotionally unstable family environments are more susceptible to substance abuse. They therefore stress the importance of recognising and treating underlying mental health conditions at an early stage.
When asked about the impact of substance abuse, mental health professionals identified consequences for mental, physical and social wellbeing. In the short term, they may cause mood swings, anxiety, irritability, impaired judgement, poor concentration, memory difficulties, sleep disturbances, behavioural changes, panic attacks, aggression, psychotic symptoms, seizures, and increased risk of accidents, self-harm, and suicide. Prolonged substance use can result in dependence and addiction, depression, anxiety disorders, persistent cognitive impairment, psychotic disorders in susceptible individuals, declining academic and occupational performance, strained family relationships, financial and legal problems, infertility, higher risk of Hepatitis B and suicide.
Families, they argue, play a crucial role in identifying early warning signs. Sudden behavioural changes, changes in peer groups or daily routines, declining academic or work performance, social withdrawal, loss of interest in previously enjoyed activities, secrecy, dishonesty, unexplained financial expenses, disturbed sleep or appetite, poor personal hygiene, mood instability, aggression, emotional detachment, red eyes, slurred speech, tremors, repeated intoxication, and frequent absenteeism from school or work may all warrant professional attention. At the same time, mental health professionals caution that these symptoms are not exclusive to substance abuse and may also indicate underlying psychiatric conditions. Consequently, professional assessment is essential before drawing conclusions.
“There is currently insufficient epidemiological evidence to conclude that increasing regulated access to alcohol would reduce the consumption of drugs. From a clinical standpoint, alcohol itself is a highly addictive substance and it is also associated with significant physical and psychiatric complications.”
When asked about the recently announced Excise Policy, the mental health professionals spoke on the condition of anonymity. One of them explained, “There is currently insufficient epidemiological evidence to conclude that increasing regulated access to alcohol would reduce the consumption of drugs. From a clinical standpoint, alcohol itself is a highly addictive substance and it is also associated with significant physical and psychiatric complications. Long-term alcohol use can lead to alcohol dependence, alcohol-induced psychotic disorders, hallucinosis, anxiety, depression, and severe withdrawal symptoms.” They point out that individuals with established alcohol dependence who abruptly discontinue drinking may develop withdrawal seizures or Delirium Tremens (DT), a potentially life-threatening medical emergency. Cases of DT have also been observed in Ladakh among individuals who regularly consume alcohol outside and experienced severe withdrawal after arriving in areas where alcohol was not readily available. They added, “Thus, alcohol dependence should itself be recognised as a major public health concern rather than viewed as a substitute for other addictive substances.”
They further emphasised that addiction should be understood as a treatable health condition rather than a moral and criminal issue. “It requires a comprehensive strategy centred on prevention, early intervention, accessible treatment, rehabilitation, and sustained community support. We also need to strengthen life-skills education and drug-prevention programmes in schools and colleges, expanding access to psychological counselling and de-addiction services, identifying and supporting vulnerable youth, empowering families through awareness and parenting education, reducing the stigma associated with seeking mental health care, creating greater educational, employment, sporting, cultural, and recreational opportunities for young people.” There is also an urgent need to train teachers, healthcare workers, and community leaders to recognise early signs of substance abuse, improving rehabilitation services with long-term follow-up and relapse prevention, strengthening collaboration among health, education, law enforcement, religious institutions, and local communities, establishing AIIMS-supported Addiction Treatment Facilities (ATFs) in district hospitals, and increasing the trained workforce dedicated to mental health and de-addiction services. Finally, they argued that while law enforcement and regulation are important, lasting solutions to substance abuse depends on strengthening mental healthcare, community awareness, family support, and evidence-based rehabilitation programmes.
This was echoed by Physician, Dr Suhail Ahsan who explained that drug abuse includes the harmful or non-medical use of psychoactive substances as well as the misuse of prescription medications. He said, “While immediate effects include euphoria, impaired judgment, anxiety, hallucinations, mood swings, poor concentration, increased heart rate, nausea, dizziness, and respiratory depression, prolonged substance abuse can have devastating consequences. Long-term drug use may result in depression, psychosis, suicidal thoughts, liver and kidney damage, chronic lung disease, weakened immunity, and the transmission of infectious diseases such as Hepatitis B and C, and HIV. Addiction is a significant public health concern.” He stressed the importance of timely intervention by families and communities. He advised people to remain vigilant for sudden personality changes, declining academic or professional performance, loss of interest in daily activities, unexplained financial demands, poor personal hygiene, secretive behaviour, and signs of intoxication or withdrawal, including shaking, sweating, nausea, and agitation.
When asked if alcohol can serve as a safer alternative to drugs, Dr Ahsan said, “Scientific evidence does not support the claim that increasing alcohol availability reduces drug abuse. Instead, alcohol and illicit drugs are often consumed together. Alcohol itself can encourage risky behaviour and experimentation with other substances. Alcohol carries serious health risks, including addiction, liver disease, cardiovascular disorders, mental health problems, and impaired judgment.”
Will easier access to alcohol worsen the substance addiction crisis in Ladakh?
We also spoke to teachers are various colleges in Ladakh about the UT Administration’s claim that the Excise Policy is meant to address drug addiction. Assistant Professor at Government Degree College (GDC), Kargil, Nasir Khafi said that replacing one intoxicating substance with another cannot be regarded as a meaningful solution. He added, “Instead of this, we need a long-term vision to make Ladakh drug- and alcohol-free, which is in line with the objective of a Nasha Mukt Bharat. Ladakh should promote itself as a destination for nature-based healing and naturopathy, encouraging healthy lifestyles, wellness tourism, and preventive approaches rather than dependence on intoxicating substances.”
Assistant Professor at Eliezer Joldan Memorial College, Leh, Dr Tsetan Dolkar said that the issue is complex as it is driven by multiple factors. She said, “Easy accessibility of drugs is a major concern. In my opinion, psychological distress, anxiety, depression, unresolved childhood trauma, and unstable family environments often make young people more vulnerable to substance abuse. In addition, inadequate parental supervision, curiosity, and peer pressure too encourage experimentation with drugs.”
She added that the normalisation of alcohol consumption in some households, especially affluent families where home bars and liquor collections are increasingly becoming common, may unintentionally influence children’s attitudes towards substance use. She said, “While alcohol is distinct from illicit drugs, such early exposure can reduce the perceived risks associated with addictive substances. When this is combined with peer pressure and emotional vulnerability, it may lead to experimentation. We can attribute the rise in drug abuse to broader social factors, including unemployment, limited recreational and career opportunities, economic uncertainty, weak social support systems, and growing aspirations among youth.”
When asked about the Excise Policy, Dr Dolkar acknowledged that a regulated liquor policy may help curb the sale of illicit alcohol and improve regulatory oversight. However, she added, it should not be regarded as a solution to drug abuse. She said, “There is no clear evidence that increasing the availability of regulated alcohol reduces the demand for illicit drugs. Addiction is a complex issue rooted in psychological, social, and economic realities. Improving access to alcohol without adequate safeguards could create new public health and social challenges. We should also consider the commercial interests in this discussion.”
She further added that educational institutions and society have an important role to play in addressing these issues. Dr Dolkar emphasised that many young people today appear disengaged and uncertain about their future. She said, “Schools, colleges, and community organisations must provide greater opportunities for students to participate in sports, arts, music, entrepreneurship, volunteering, and other constructive activities that foster confidence, purpose, and a sense of belonging. We have seen this with NCC cadets at EJM College wherein students engaged in meaningful pursuits often demonstrate greater discipline and overall development than their peers.”
She said that we should periodically celebrate young achievers as positive role models and encourage them through greater recognition and institutional support. “Drug abuse should not be viewed merely as a law-and-order problem but as a public health and social challenge. It needs coordinated efforts from families, educational institutions, healthcare professionals, communities, and the government. Awareness among parents and youth coupled with open family communication and early recognition of emotional distress remains some of the most effective ways to prevent substance abuse,” she concluded
This was also mentioned by Assistant Professor at GDC, Drass, Archo Fatima Nissa, who said that drug abuse among Ladakh’s youth is acomplex issue. She added, “Unemployment and uncertainty about the future are major factors that increase vulnerability to substance abuse. This is worsened by easy access to drugs, the influence of social media, peer pressure, and changing lifestyles. Psychological distress, anxiety, depression, unstable family environments, and inadequate parental supervision further increase the risk of addiction. The normalisation of alcohol consumption in some households may inadvertently reduce young people’s perception of the risks associated with addictive substances. Drug abuse is a virus infecting society.”
When asked about the Excise Policy, she responded that the focus should be on prevention rather than substitution. She added, “There is no evidence confirming that improved access to alcohol will reduce drug abuse. On the contrary, alcohol is an addictive substance and cannot be regarded as a safer alternative to illicit drugs. Addressing one harmful substance by promoting another is not a solution and may create new public health and social challenges in the future. The administration should prioritise preventive measures, including youth engagement programmes, skill development initiatives, mental health and counselling services, de-addiction facilities, and stronger action against drug trafficking networks.”
She added that colleges interact with one of the most vulnerable age groups during which students navigate the transition from adolescence to adulthood and face academic pressures, career uncertainty, and peer influence.
She added that colleges interact with one of the most vulnerable age groups during which students navigate the transition from adolescence to adulthood and face academic pressures, career uncertainty, and peer influence. “In this regard, these institutions should move beyond classroom teaching by strengthening awareness programmes, counselling, mentorship, life-skills education, and opportunities for meaningful engagement through skill-based courses, career guidance, entrepreneurship, sports, arts, and community participation. Such initiatives help young people develop confidence, purpose, and resilience and reduce their vulnerability to substance abuse,” she concluded.
Finally, we spoke with Assistant Professor at GDC, Padum, Dr Jamphel Sheyan about addiction and the Excise Policy. He said that Chang (traditional alcoholic beverage) has long been a part of Ladakh’s social and cultural life. “It has historically been prepared for household use during festivals, religious ceremonies, and family gatherings. However, the situation has changed significantly with modernisation, tourism, improved connectivity, and the introduction of commercial varieties of liquor. I have reservations about the argument that increasing licensed liquor outlets will help reduce drug abuse. This is not supported by any evidence. Instead, alcohol and drugs often coexist, making substitution an unreliable public health strategy. Instead, we need a comprehensive approach including awareness, rehabilitation, counselling, quality education, employment opportunities, mental health support, and youth engagement,” he explained.
However, Dr Jamphel highlighted that many regions such as Zangskar have licensed bars but not retail outlets for liquor. “This forces consumers to purchase alcohol at significantly higher prices during family functions. Since alcohol is already legally available through bars and CSD outlets, it is possible that establishing a few regulated shops may improve transparency and affordability instead of substantially increasing accessibility. That said, the debate should move beyond the number of liquor shops and focus on responsible regulation. The challenge is to strike a balance between public health, cultural values, administrative regulation, and economic realities. Any long-term solution must involve coordinated efforts by all stakeholders to promote awareness, responsible consumption, rehabilitation, and preventive education.”
“The challenge is to strike a balance between public health, cultural values, administrative regulation, and economic realities.”
In addition, we discussed these issues with a lawyer to understand this from a legal perspective. Kargil-based Adv Syed Rohollah said that offences related to drugs are governed by the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act, 1985 (NDPS Act), which is one of India’s strictest laws. He added, “The law itself is sufficiently stringent. However, the greater challenge lies in its implementation through professional investigation, timely prosecution, judicial efficiency, and stronger preventive measures.” When asked about the new excise policy, he rejected the proposition for legal and public health reasons. He added, “Alcohol and narcotic drugs are psychoactive substances, and replacing one form of addiction with another cannot be a sustainable solution. Public policy should be guided by evidence, constitutional principles, and the objective of protecting public health rather than the assumption that alcohol can substitute illicit drugs. Instead, we need stronger enforcement against drug trafficking, improved de-addiction and rehabilitation services, public awareness, and measures to address the underlying social and economic causes of substance abuse.”
Adv. Rohollah explained that while the government has the legal authority to frame and implement excise regulations, these decisions must remain fair, transparent, reasonable, and consistent with constitutional principles. He said, “Policies about alcohol should balance administrative and economic considerations with public health, social harmony, and concerns of local communities. Public apprehensions should be addressed through meaningful dialogue and evidence-based policymaking rather than being ignored.” In this regard he said that legal remedies are available by affected groups to approach the courts if they can demonstrate that a policy violates constitutional or legal rights. However, he added, “The courts generally do not interfere with government policies due to public disagreement. Judicial intervention is usually warranted only where a policy is shown to be arbitrary, discriminatory, mala fide (in bad faith), disproportionate, or inconsistent with constitutional or statutory provisions.”
Finally, we also spoke with youth from Leh and Kargil. They identified peer pressure, unemployment, stress, curiosity, lack of awareness, and easy access to intoxicating substances as major factors contributing to the problem. They observed that many young people resort to drugs to cope with personal difficulties, loneliness, family issues, and uncertainty. They also highlighted the influence of social media, changing lifestyles, and the lack of recreational opportunities as factors that increase the vulnerability of youth to substance abuse.
When asked about the Excise Policy, many of them expressed concern that increasing the number of liquor outlets could adversely affect the youth. They acknowledged that the policy may help regulate alcohol sales and generate revenue but expressed concern that greater accessibility could encourage higher alcohol consumption and increase the risk of addiction, particularly among vulnerable youth. They therefore stressed the importance of strict regulation, effective age verification, and sustained public awareness if the policy is implemented.
One of them said, “Regulated alcohol sales may curb black-market activities to an extent but expanding alcohol access will not address drug addiction. It could led to additional challenges, including alcohol dependence, health complications, family conflicts, and road accidents. Drug abuse requires a collective effort from society with regular awareness programmes, counselling and mental health support, sports and cultural activities, skill development initiatives, and greater employment opportunities for young people.
There is widespread consensus that addiction is not merely a law-and-order issue but a complex public health challenge. The solutions too need to be multi-pronged and combine prevention, early intervention, accessible mental healthcare, rehabilitation, family support, and community participation. With timely action and sustained collaboration among all stakeholders, Ladakh can build a more resilient society where young people are supported, addiction is treated with compassion and evidence-based care, and recovery remains an achievable reality.
Personal account: Struggle with addiction
We spoke to a youth who was addicted to drugs and has successfully overcome it. He said, “My addiction started with curiosity and the influence of my friends. I used to spend time with friends who would regularly use drugs. They often described the experience as a way to feel numb and temporarily escape their problems. After listening to their conversations, I became curious, and I eventually decided to experiment with drugs. What started as a single trial gradually developed into a habit and eventually into addiction.” He explained that he never purchased drugs himself or knew where they came from. Whenever his friends invited him, he would join them without questioning the source or availability of the substances. Looking back, he realised how easily casual social interactions can lead someone into substance dependence. When he eventually decided to quit, he discovered that overcoming addiction involved more than resisting the substance itself. He said, “One of the greatest obstacles was the social environment surrounding me. Instead of encouraging my decision, some friends would mock my attempts to stop, tell me that I would never succeed and would inevitably return to drug use. Such discouragement weakened my confidence and, on several occasions, contributed to relapse.” Reflecting on his recovery, he emphasised that people struggling with addiction need support rather than condemnation. He said that many individuals avoid seeking professional help because they fear being judged or stigmatised by society. He added that encouragement from family members, friends, and the community can play a decisive role in helping individuals overcome addiction. When asked about drug-control policies, he said that strict restrictions alone may not be sufficient to address the problem and argued that prohibition can sometimes increase curiosity among young people. In his opinion, governments should study the approaches adopted by countries that have successfully reduced drug dependence and place greater emphasis on public awareness, preventive education, counselling, rehabilitation, and long-term support for those affected by addiction. He said that a regulated approach to less harmful substances, combined with education, counselling, and medical support, may be more effective than relying solely on prohibition. Describing his recovery process, he explained that the process to quit was gradual. He reduced his drug consumption step by step until he was eventually able to stop completely. Whenever cravings became intense, he would consciously remind himself of his reasons to quit and deliberately avoided the people and environments that had previously encouraged his drug use. The turning point was when he started noticing the severe effects of addiction on his physical health. He was losing weight, becoming physically weak, and realised that continued drug use was seriously damaging his body. These health concerns strengthened his determination to overcome his addiction. He believes that addiction can affect anyone, regardless of background, but recovery is possible with determination, appropriate treatment, and sustained social support. He stressed that public policy should balance enforcement with rehabilitation, ensuring that individuals struggling with addiction receive hope, counselling, psychiatric care, and opportunities for reintegration into society. He concluded by emphasising that addiction is a treatable condition and that people should be encouraged—not judged—to seek help, as recovery is achievable with the right support system.
By Towha Yaseen and Thupstan Tsewang
Towha Yaseen and Thupstan Tsewang are a part of the editorial team at Stawa.
Most place names in Ladakh have historical, geographical, cultural, social or religious meaning. Most place names are associated with features of the landscape, such as water bodies, rock formations and biodiversity in and around the village. Over time, these names have undergone varying degrees of change from slight variations to complete corruption. As a consequence of this change, the original meanings of many names have been lost.
Sometimes the change has been towards an easier pronunciation. However, more often names have been corrupted by Border Road Organisation (BRO), when they depict them on milestones. Over the years, I have collected explanations and interpretations of place names from oral history and published literature. There are possibly several other interpretations, which need to be researched and documented. Here, I present some village names from Nubra valley.
Measuring a tiger? Village names from a BRO board in 2015 (Photograph by Jigmat Lundup).
Sumoor: One explanation links the village name to Sum-yur, meaning three irrigation channels. This is supported by the fact that the village is irrigated by three irrigation channels even today. Another explanation suggests that the name is derived from sum yul meaning three settlements based on the knowledge that in the past, the villagers lived at two other places in the valley before settling at the present site. The ruins of the two settlements are located in upper reaches of the valley. Today, the name has changed slightly and is spelt interchangeably as Sumoor and Sumur.
Tegar: The original name of the village is said to have been ldeb-dkar meaning white plateau. Another explanation is that the valley of Nubra resembles a sleeping demon and the mKhar (palace) was located near the demon’s navel (ltea). Thus, the, village was called lte-mkhar. In time, this changed to Kyagar, Tegar and, more recently, Tiger. Locals still call the village Kyagar, while BRO’s milestones proclaim it as Tiger, which is also repeated in official survey maps. This is probably the most extreme change recorded amongst village and place names in Nubra.
Murgi: This name is derived from the mountain above the village: Dngul translates as silver and ri is mountain. According to the book Nubre Nas-shad (Nub-ra’i gnas-bshad) by Urgyan Rigzin, this mountain has white lime (dkar-rtsi) and possibly some silver deposits. Hence, the village was called Ngulri (dngul-ri) or ‘silver mountain’, which subsequently changed to Murgi.
Khardong: This village name of Khardzong is derived from the ancient palace (mKhar) and fort (rDzong)—whose ruins are still evident—at Yuldoma in the lower part of the village. In time, the name changed to Khardong, which BRO and the Indian Army have changed by spelling it K-h-a-r-d-u-n-g on their milestones and souvenirs.
Pinchimik: The original name of this village was spang chhu-mig meaning ‘a spring emerging from a meadow’. According to oral sources, there was a beautiful meadow around the village, which was a favoured picnic spot for King Nyima Namgyal, whenever he stayed at Charasa palace. The name has now changed to Pinchimik.
Tertse/Terchey: The original name was said to be gter-sa meaning ‘treasure or storage place (for sacred monuments)’. According to Nubre Nas-shad (Nub-ra’i gnas-bshad), there was a sacred Gomang chorten in the village, which contained sacred manuscripts and precious relics. The name has been altered slightly and is commonly called Tertse or Terchey.
Khalsar: In the past, the agricultural lands of the village are said to have been owned by a noble family from Nubra. The village was thus called Kharsa, where mKhar means ‘palace’ and sa is land. The name has changed over time and is now called Khalsar.
Khimi: The original village name is said to be skid-mi-gling, whichmeans ‘village/place of happy people’. It’s not clear how this name was changed to Khimi.
Kubet: There are two popular explanations for the name of this village. According to one, the village is located at a place that resembles the shape of Kumuda (water lily). The second explanation argues that people would source stones for pottery from this place. The specific stone was called Kvod by Balti potters, which later became Kubet.
Lakjung: The name of the village was legs-gzhung, which means ‘centre of prosperity’. The village is believed to be one of the earliest settlements in Nubra and has a history of prosperity. The name has changed slightly to Lakjung, though some maps spell it as L-a-z-u-n-g.
Skampuk: This village was originally called Gan-Phukor ‘settlement of old people’. According to one story, the village was established by an elderly couple, which gave the place its name. Another interpretation is in the The Nub-ra’i gnas-bshad, which explains that the area was very dry (sa-skam) and had a sacred meditation cave (mtsams-phug) of Lama Samstan Chosphel. It is believed that the village got its name through a combination of two words, skam and phug.
Chalungkha: The original name of the village was Chu-lung kha, which describes a place at the edge of a valley with water: Chhu-lung: valley with water, kha: opening or front.
Chamshen: This village name is derived from the self-emanated formation of Chamba Gonbo (Maitreya Buddha) in the upper reaches of the valley. The original name is said to have been Cham-Chhen (Great Maitreya), which has now changed to Chamshen.
Charasa: The original name of this village was lchags-ra-sa, which means ‘an iron estate’—the mountain above the village has iron deposits. People from the village used to produce iron goods, including cooking utensils, iron stoves (lchags-thab), iron ladle (lchags-thum), trivet/tripod (lchags-sgyid) and tools for agricultural activities.
Digar: The original name of this village was bru’i-khal (a load of grain) as the village produces large quantities of high quality barley. The name has now changed to Digar and sometimes spelt as D-i-g-g-a-r.
Another BRO board in Nubra (2015). Sakthi/Sakti has been corrected to Ser-thi in signboards around the village after active intervention by villagers (Photograph by Jigmat Lhundup).
Tangyar: The original name of the village was Brang-gyar meaning ‘hired halting place’ and is now popularly called Tangyar. This is sometimes misspelled as T-y-a-n-g-a-r.
Henachey: The original name of this village was dbyen-gnas chhe, which means ‘great solitary place’ but has now changed to Henachey.
Hunder: The village was originally known as sngon-dar meaning ‘the earliest growing (village)’. Hunder, Deskit and Lakjung are said to be the earliest settlements in Nubra. Today, the name has been changed to Hunder.
Udmaru: The name of the village is derived from the outline of the village, which looks like a flower called U-dum ba-ra, which is mentioned in Tibetan literature as a large lotus.
There are other village names that have remained true to their origins, including Tsati (hot springs: tsa: hot, ti: water), Deskit (Dewa and skitpo, which mean happiness/peace), Taksha (derived from a medicinal plant by the same name), Lagyab (behind a pass: la: pass, gyab: behind), Rongdo (beginning of a valley: rong: valley, do: beginning) etc. Other village names like Tirit, Agyam/Agham, Panamik are difficult to interpret. Their origins are possibly in Hor-skat (Turki and other Central Asian dialects) as Nubra is located along the routes that connected Ladakh and Central Asia. I have not studied the village names of Turtuk, Tyaksi and Bogdang but hope to explore them in the future.
By Dr. Sonam Wangchok
Dr. Sonam Wangchok is founder secretary of Himalayan Cultural Heritage Foundation and the Editor of Heritage Himalaya.
I am not a botanist or horticultural expert. My interest in the Kham-skyur began simply with its visual allure. Over the past year, I found myself repeatedly drawn to photographs and fleeting glimpses of this wild plum, until curiosity about the tree slowly turned into wonder about the landscape, language, and history surrounding it, especially the remarkable toponymy preserved in the name of Skurbuchan.
In the sheltered contours of Ladakh’s Sham valley, language and landscape are not merely neighbours; they are part of the same woven fabric. Wander into the village of Skurbuchan (also rendered Skyurbuchan and Skurbu chan), and you enter a place whose very name preserves the memory of a fruit, turning the landscape itself into a kind of living botanical map.
At the heart of this landscape is the Kham-skyur (also rendered Khamskyur or locally pronounced Khamskur), which is locally regarded as Ladakh’s only known wild plum. In Tibetan, as preserved in Ladakhi usage, ‘skyur’ means ‘sour’, while ‘kham’ or ‘khambu’ appears in older Himalayan/Tibetan orchard vocabulary to describestone fruits or fleshy pit-bearing fruits (drupes). Examples include Ngari Khambu, the Ladakhi sweet apricot. Together, the name evokes the fruit’s sharp tartness before ripening. Under the intense sunlight, dry air, and dramatic day-night temperature shifts of high altitude Ladakh, the fruit gradually develops a richer sweetness by harvest season. Older residents still remember the plum as sharply sour in earlier decades, when children often ate the fruit before it had fully ripened. Some villagers today, however, observe that the ripe fruits have become noticeably sweeter than in the past. Yet, the older memory of its sour bite survives in the name itself.
The village name Skurbuchan carries a similar botanical echo. Derived from Tibetan roots, ‘skyur-bu’ (‘sour fruit’ or ‘sour thing’) and ‘-chan’ (‘possessing’ or ‘having’), it may be understood as ‘the place of sour fruits’ or ‘the place that has the sour fruit’. Few examples of Himalayan toponymy preserve such a direct relationship between ecology, language, and settlement identity.
Botanically, the Kham-skyur is unusual in Ladakh’s harsh mountain environment. The tree thrives primarily in the lower, relatively sheltered elevations of the Sham region and struggles in the colder upper plateau zones. Its highly localised presence has led some observers to describe it as a kind of ‘genetic island’ in Ladakh’s flora. Recent botanical documentation has identified specimens in Skurbuchan as greengage plum (Prunus domestica subsp. italica), a notable addition to the recorded flora of Ladakh, even as local tradition continues to emphasise the fruit’s near-wild character.
Its origins remain uncertain. The plum may reflect older patterns of horticultural exchange moving through Himalayan and Central Asian trade corridors over centuries. In this sense, the Kham-skyur stands not merely as a fruit tree, but as a quiet survivor of the wider trans-Himalayan world that once linked Ladakh with Baltistan, Tibet, Kashmir, and Central Asia.
Whatever its route into Ladakh, the tree has adapted well to the microclimate of the Sham valley and become woven into local memory, vocabulary, and identity. Even today, during harvest season, heavily laden branches and clusters of ripening fruit remain part of the valley’s quiet horticultural rhythm. By late summer, the boughs hang heavy with tightly clustered purple fruit against the stark mountain light, and older villagers still distinguish between individual trees by taste, colour, and the sharpness of the fruit before ripening.
More unusual still is the fact that in Skurbuchan itself, the Kham-skyur trees are said to only survive largely in two small plots. Local accounts speak of barely 30 mature trees in total, with offshoots growing vigorously around them, often bearing broader leaves than the older parent trees. Elders in the village recall that in earlier times, when fruit trees were relatively scarce in the valley, children would pluck the plums before they had fully ripened, rarely allowing the fruit to mature completely on the branches. Even fallen fruits rarely went to waste; older generations traditionally gathered them and ground them into a tart paste known as ‘chattin’, mixed with fresh mountain herbs and eaten with thick traditional breads.
The Kham-skyur trees in Skurbuchan
This extreme localisation gives the Kham-skyur both rarity and vulnerability. The small surviving population, concentrated largely around Skurbuchan and neighbouring areas, remains susceptible to climate stress, disease, and the gradual loss of aging trees. Oral accounts speak of particularly old specimens that continue to bear fruit, reinforcing the sense that these trees are not merely crops, but living cultural inheritances.
In the early-20th Century, German missionary-scholar, A. H. Francke recorded the rarity of the tree in striking terms. Referring to the Kham skyur, he wrote: “It is the only plum existing in Ladakh and is a very rare tree at the present day. A few specimens exist at Skyarbucan, but the fruit is so sour that it is not eaten at the present day.” His observation captures an earlier moment in the fruit’s cultural history, when the plum was valued more as a botanical curiosity than everyday food.
That rarity may also hold modest economic potential in the future. Across the Himalayan world, unusual mountain fruits have increasingly attracted attention because of their highly localised habitats, distinctive appearance, and association with extreme high altitude environments. The much-publicised ‘black diamond’ apples of Nyingchi (pronounced Nyingthri) in Tibet are perhaps the best-known example, associated with premium niche fruit markets because of their striking appearance and high altitude terroir. The Kham-skyur possesses a similarly distinctive story: a sour-to-sweet transformation shaped by altitude, a concentrated habitat within the Sham Valley, and a linguistic history embedded into the very name of a village. While still little known outside the region, the fruit’s rarity and unusual character could eventually lend themselves to small-scale heritage branding, carefully linked to conservation and local stewardship rather than rapid commercialisation.
Skurbuchan is already gaining wider recognition through its apricot blossom festivals, which celebrate the valley’s horticultural landscape each spring. The Kham-skyur could naturally extend this emerging cultural tourism identity, adding another layer to the village’s botanical heritage. Seasonal orchard walks, plum harvest experiences, local storytelling, and traditional food products could help position the Sham valley not merely as a scenic destination, but as a living cultural landscape shaped by centuries of cultivation and ecological adaptation.
Carefully developed, the fruit could support a small but valuable heritage economy. Dried plums, preserves, juices, or artisanal products could provide supplemental income while encouraging conservation of old orchards and traditional practices.
Yet any expansion must be cautious. Preserving genetic distinctiveness and ecological resilience matters more than rapid commercialisation. Propagation efforts, local stewardship, and careful documentation will be essential if the Kham-skyur is to survive beyond a handful of aging trees. In Skurbuchan, the Kham-skyur is more than a fruit. It is edible heritage, a reminder that landscapes are shaped not only by mountains and rivers, but also by the species people nurture, the tastes they remember, and the names they leave behind. To protect these trees is to preserve not simply a crop, but a small living archive of Ladakh’s cultural and ecological memory.
By Phuntsog Tsering
Photographs by Dr Tsering Phuntsog
Phuntsog Tsering is an entrepreneur from Leh and manages Migsal WoodWorks.
Dr. Tsering Phuntsog is a retired veterinarian from Skurbuchan with a keen interest in Ladakhi folklore, history, and mythology.
The Piprahwa relics of the Buddha, including an assortment of 1,800 exquisite jewellery and gemstone offerings, have undergone an extraordinary journey. After the Mahaparinirvana of the Buddha in Kushinagar circa 483 BCE, his remains were divided among eight kingdoms, including the Buddha’s Sakya clan of Kapilavastu. Brahmin Dona, who mediated the relic distribution, kept the urn used to collect the relics after his cremation while Moriyas received the ashes from the pyre. The recipients, in turn, built stupas enshrining them. After 250 years, Emperor Ashoka opened nine of the original stupas and redistributed them across his vast kingdom. This led to establishment of countless stupas, monasteries and communities across south Asia. He also sent missionaries to Sri Lanka, Central Asia and Greece, which marked an inflection point for Buddhism.
At the turn of the 20th Century, archaeologists found a stone pillar of Emperor Ashoka in the Terai region of Nepal. This helped them locate Lumbini; the birthplace of the Buddha. That breakthrough sparked a series of related discoveries in adjacent regions along the India-Nepal border. The area between Kapilavastu and Lumbini has many hillock-type mounds (locally known as Kots) incongruous to the geomorphology of the Gangetic plain. The archaeologists inferred that these were human-made structures. Buddhist scriptures mention a mass killing of the Sakya Clan by a rival king and experts surmised the Kots to be stupas or burial mounds associated with this event. Acting on the prevailing excitement, William Claxton Peppé, an engineer and landowner, grew curious about a similar nondescript mound on his estate in Piprahwa in present-day Uttar Pradesh, India.
In 1898, Peppé dug through the knoll in Piprahwa in the Birdpur estate, which locals associated with ancient ruins. He excavated a large sandstone casket containing five reliquary urns. One of the vases stood out for a peculiar inscription in Brahmi Script. Linguists interpreted the writing as, “This shrine for relics of the Buddha, the August One, is that of the Sakya’s, the brethren of the Distinguished One, in association with their sisters, and with their children and their wives.” The discovery helped ascertain the location of Kapilavastu, where the Buddha lived for the first 29 years of his life. This affirmed the historical Buddha, which sent ripples through the academic and spiritual worlds of the time.
These findings were further corroborated when Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) carried out an extensive excavation of the Piprahwa Stupa and adjoining areas between 1971 and 1977. Led by K. M Srivastava, the team found two more caskets with 22 bone fragments. Those were dated to the Fifth-Fourth Century BCE, coinciding with the latter half of the Buddha’s life. Moreover, their placement matched with the ritualistic burial patterns of the Sakya Clan. Crucially, they exhumed a large number of terracotta monastic seals explicitly mentioning ‘Kapilavastu Bikshu Sangha’ of Devaputra Vihara, a monastery named after the Kushana King Kanishka I (c. 78-102 CE). Srivastava’s team also located massive residential structures and a palace complex, about 1 km from Piprahwa. Considered as the administrative and residential heart of the Sakya Kingdom, the ruins revealed a sophisticated urban settlement with noteworthy advanced drainage system and water wells.
ASI concluded that the Piprahwa Stupa was built in three phases. The Sakya of Kapilavastu built the original structure c. 480 BCE, adhering to the Buddha’s instructions as ‘heaped up as rice is heaped in an alms bowl.’ Thus, the core of the stupa was no more than an earthen heap, enshrining the Buddha’s relics at its base. The part that W. C Peppé excavated was the second phase of its development. The structure was reinforced with baked red-bricks made with rice and straw that were prevalent in the Ashokan period. The third phase is dated during the Kushana era, 250 years after Ashoka’s reign. In this phase, the height of the stupa was raised and the base was squared-off.
The collection found in 1898 was promptly handed over to the Government of British India under the Indian Treasure Trove Act, 1878. The bones and ashes were gifted to King Rama V of Thailand. The famed urn with the inscription, along with other vases and the sandstone casket, and a majority of the precious jewels were placed in the Indian Museum, Kolkata. As the finder’s reward, Peppé was allowed to keep a fifth of the treasure. In 2025, his descendants decided to auction their share of the Piprahwa relics at Sotheby’s in Hong Kong. Speaking to the BBC, Chris Peppé, great-grandson of W.C Peppé, felt it was the “fairest and most transparent way” to return the relics to Buddhists. The assortment of precious stones was valued at over HK$ 100 million (£9.7m).
The private auction of the collection immediately sparked an international outcry. After intense negotiations, India successfully brought them back, thus setting a precedent for the return of antiquities taken during colonialism. It sparked a global repatriation debate and brought the Piprahwa relics into limelight, igniting public imagination about them once again. The whole of the Piprahwa relics and artefacts were placed under a single roof at an exposition called ‘The Light & Lotus: Relics of the Awakened One’ at Rai Pithora Cultural Complex in New Delhi in 2026.
The Piprahwa relics are among the most significant archaeological and spiritual discoveries in Buddhist history. Considered to be one-eighth share of Buddha’s remains that was entrusted to his clan, the relics provide direct physical and epigraphical evidence of the historical Buddha Sakyamuni. These relics are also referred to as the Holy Relics of Tathāgata, which is a Pali and Sanskrit term meaning ‘one who has thus gone’. It signifies an enlightened one who has attained perfection, understands reality as-it-is, and transcends the cycle of rebirth.
On 29 April, 2026, Ladakh witnessed a once-in-a-lifetime spiritual event when the remains of the historical Buddha blessed the land. The auspicious Piprahwa relics of the Awakened One descended at Kushok Bakula Rinpoche Airport with people lining up along the road to pay their respect and express spiritual devotion. From the Himalayas, the remains of the Buddha will bless the world with its message of reason, compassion and universal brotherhood. The Piprahwa relics will remain in Ladakh from 1 to 14 May, 2026 allowing people to experience their blessed presence.
Text by Lhundup Gyalpo
Photograph by Jigmet Takpa
Lhundup Gyalpo is the author of Betty’s Butter Tea – Stories from Ladakh.
Jigmet Takpa, IFS is former Principal Chief Conservator of Forest, Ladakh and currently serving as Nodal Officer for Sacred Exposition of Holy relics of Tathāgata Buddha, Administration of Union Territory of Ladakh.
Ladakh has no ocean. Fremantle has no mountains. Yet, the two geographies converge at the Fremantle Biennale. Their convergence is not as opposites but as a dialogue stitched through memory, material, and the journey of water.
For the first time, Ladakh’s artistic voice has reached Australia’s western coast. At the 2025 Fremantle Biennale in Walyalup, the silence of the Himalayas meets the restless rhythm of the Indian ocean through a rare cross-continental collaboration. Under this year’s theme, Sanctuary, the partnership between Sā Ladakh Biennale, Ladakh Art and Media Organisation (LAMO), and the Fremantle Biennale becomes more than cultural exchange; it becomes a shared space of reflection, ecological storytelling, and artistic kinship.
Though this is an installation in a single exhibition room in Fremantle, the significance of this collaboration extends well past the walls. The artistic narratives of Ladakh have rarely travelled outside South Asia, let alone into a space where indigenous, oceanic, and global ecologies are already in conversation. For the Himalayan community, long viewed through lenses of tourism, conflict, and climate vulnerability, this is a moment that shifts the frame: Ladakh is here not as an object of study but as a contributor to a global cultural dialogue. The Fremantle Biennale is known for amplifying voices from places shaped by deep time, coastlines, islands, tidal histories and Ladakh’s presence extends that horizon. It lays a glacial landscape against the ocean, inviting viewers to consider how two worlds so apparently far apart are connected through climate, memory, and the movement of water. At a time when the global climate crisis often reduces whole communities to data points and headlines, this exchange insists on something more personal: that landscapes hold stories, and those stories deserve to be heard.
Ladakh is represented by sculptor Stanzin Tsepel from Rangdum, Zangskar, and interdisciplinary artist Arunima Dazess Wangchuk, who is based in Leh and Delhi. Tsepel, currently in residence in Fremantle, is developing a regenerative sculpture inspired by Ladakh’s glacial terrains and the rhythms of the Indian ocean.
Stanzin Tsepel
Engaging virtually from Ladakh, Dazess expands the project through conceptual and digital forms, exploring spirituality, ecology, and technology for an onsite artwork to be executed by teams of the three art organisations. “In a world striving for a better future, the question remains—what does ‘better’ truly mean?” she reflects. “Our true future lies not in greed but in love and respect for our land and its people.”
This partnership brings together two ecologically distinct yet spiritually connected worlds: Ladakh’s glacial highlands and Fremantle’s coastal horizon. It marks the first-ever representation of Ladakh at an Australian biennale, a milestone that opens new pathways for dialogue on ecology, identity, and artistic storytelling.
I wanted to understand the work and its making. I had a long phone conversation with sculptor, Stanzin Tsepel to discuss his work and the world it explores. His installation, Where mountains meet the sea, stands at the intersection of two worlds: The high-altitude quiet of the Himalayas and the tidal pulse of the Indian ocean. Rather than presenting contrast as conflict, the work treats difference as conversation, carried through water, memory, and movement.
Suspended textile forms crafted from Nambu, a traditional Ladakhi wool, hang from the ceiling. Cone-like and austere, their striped surfaces cast shifting shadows across the floor. The light behaves as though it recognises the material moving gently, almost tidal, as if the wool is breathing. On the ground lies sand and salt, which are subtle but unquestionable symbols of the sea. The combination creates an environment where altitude meets shoreline, glacier meets tide. Shadows ripple outward like slow-moving currents, echoing the long journey of meltwater from mountains to ocean.
For Tsepel, the installation is more than material composition, it is lived memory. He has grown up in Ladakh and he is now creating on the shores of the Indian ocean. In his own way, he carries memories of both landscapes. The work becomes a map of belonging. He calls it a regenerative sculpture. Rather than mourning loss, it looks toward continuity—toward the cycles that remain alive even in a time of change.
When I asked him about being the first Ladakhi artist to exhibit their work at the Fremantle Biennale, he said, “For me, representing Ladakh feels both like a responsibility and an honour. Coming from a remote Himalayan region, our stories are often unseen in global art spaces.”
We spoke about how glaciers entered conversations with the Indian ocean. He told me the idea wasn’t conceptual at first and that it emerged through working with the materials. The wool carried the mountains while the salt and sand carried the sea. At one point during installation, he simply stood there and realised that the dialogue had already begun. When I asked what feeling or emotion guided the work, he responded with one word, “Flow.” It was not only water but also movement through time, memory, and change. He explained, “A glacier isn’t just ice. It carries history.”
I wanted to know what Fremantle had offered him beyond the exhibition. His answer was not unusual but a bit surprising he said, “It isn’t the space, the scale, or the attention but the warmth of the people. Their patience and curiosity about Ladakh is not just as a distant mountain land but as a living culture.” I also asked what impressions he hoped visitors would take from his work. He said, “That the mountains and the oceans are connected. What melts in the Himalayas doesn’t stay there.” When I asked what comes next, he laughed but not out of uncertainty, but a sense of discovery. This installation has opened a new direction in his practice: Immersive spaces where the environment and experiences intertwine.
My last question was more personal: What would he take back to Ladakh, and what does he hope young Ladakhi artists can take from this moment? He replied, “I am returning with a deeper understanding that place shapes art. I hope that young artists in Ladakh realise their landscapes and their stories are not small but belong in global conversations.” As I looked at the images of the installation, I found myself pausing over the details, trying to imagine what it would feel like to stand in that space. The suspended cone-like forms reminded me of inverted mountains, almost as if gravity had shifted or memory had turned upside down. Their shadows ripple across the sand below, forming circles that look like the slow movement of water as if a glacier was melting, a drop at a time, creating rings that eventually find their way to the sea. Even through a photograph, there is a sense of quietness in the room, almost like a conversation taking place without sound. The small mounds of salt placed within those ripples feel symbolic, maybe of beginnings and ends, of glaciers and oceans, of memories and transformations.
Text by Deachen Chuskit
Photographs by Raki Nikahetiya
Deachen Chuskit is a reporter based in Leh.
Raki Nikahetiya is Co-founder of Sā Ladakh Biennale.
If you are reading this, it is very likely that this topic sparked your curiosity. We would also have chosen to read this article if we were still in college. We were just as lost and confused as everyone else when we first joined our respective colleges. The secret that we learned through our own experience of college life is: Nobody knows what they are doing.
Sure, some students seem to have it all together as they juggle various societies, internships, and accomplishments with an air of confidence. But behind that polished exterior lies uncertainty, just like yours. Everyone’s mind is full of questions, and their hearts wrestle with self-doubt. And that is okay.
As we reflected on our journeys, we realised that we wanted to share our thoughts, experiences, and lessons on navigating the highs and lows of college life. From friendships to expectations and the weight of responsibilities, here is what we wish someone had told us when we first arrived.
Do we need friends?
One of us experienced a deep existential crisis in the Kashmere Gate Metro Station crowd. If you have been there, you know the scene, an overwhelming sea of people rushing toward their destinations, each with a clear purpose. At that moment, a realisation hit hard: Delhi was a relentless beast compared to the peaceful rhythm of life in Ladakh. The fast-paced, noisy environment makes one feel homesick and reminds us of how much slower and simpler, life is at home.
So, you turn to your only support system in Delhi, your friends. And while most of you consider your friends to be people with whom you hang out, their influence goes much deeper. Some friendships can change your life by providing the support, motivation, and encouragement you need to thrive. However, some people may lead you in a direction you would rather avoid. Making a smart choice is crucial, even if you are tempted to believe that any friend is better than being alone. The wrong company can significantly derail your life.
Choose wisely. It is better to be alone than in bad company. Trust yourself to be self-reliant, and you will eventually find your tribe. Until then, remember: your own company is far better than the wrong company.
The weight of being the first
For many Ladakhi students, attending college isn’t just a personal achievement, it’s a family aspiration, and a social expectation. The pressure can feel overwhelming, especially if you are the first in your family to pursue higher education. You may question if you are good enough, worry about job prospects, or fear wasting your family’s hard-earned money.
Such thoughts can be difficult to navigate, especially when people around you secure jobs, internships, and good grades. It is easy to feel like you are not good enough when you compare yourself with your friends. But here is the truth: Every journey is unique. There is no fixed timeline for success, and your worth is not determined by how quickly you ‘catch up’ with others.
People in Ladakh often consider a government job the hallmark of success. However, that is not true. You can be happy even with a private job if you enjoy the work and find a purpose in the work that you do. Ultimately, you must carve out a path that reflects your aspirations, even if it diverges from family or social expectations. After all, you are the one who will live with the consequences of your choices. So, find out what sparks your interest and talk to people working in your dream job. Just dreaming about a dream job won’t make it come true. You must put in the effort to realise that dream.
Money, no money!
Taking care of money for the first time is a great responsibility, and many of us fail in the first few attempts. Many Ladakhi students have scholarships on top of the monthly allowances from their families. But they still end up broke. Most do not even keep track of where they spend their money. Such reckless spending shows poor financial management and disrespect towards your parents’ efforts.
Moreover, being a college student is already equivalent to being a ‘half-adult’. You can set out to find ways to make money yourself. Ladakhi students are creative and skilled in various art-forms, dance, photography, and videography, talents that are in great demand. Create a portfolio, start freelancing, and earn your keep. Many hesitate, thinking they can’t succeed. But you will never know unless you try. Interning or freelancing easily beats doom-scrolling on social media, any day.
Can you escape FOMO?
The internet provides solutions but is also the cause of many of our concerns. You see someone’s picture-perfect life on social media and instantly think your life is not enough, even when you were grateful for your life just yesterday. The internet has made it very easy to get influenced. It is a double-edged sword: A source of distraction or meaningful information. The choice is yours.
Is a clear goal necessary?
People often think they need to have everything worked out before starting college. Honestly, not having a clear plan doesn’t mean you are failing. It just means you are still exploring.
Exploring is very important. You might find that the job you thought you wanted is nothing like what you thought it would be. This is something we know for sure. One of us started working in a job we thought we would enjoy but were wrong. The other is still in the middle of figuring out their next big plan for life. And none of us are sure that our plans will work out. Things can go wrong in life, and that is just life. Going off track, making mistakes, and not knowing what will happen are all normal parts of the process. Most people are just learning as they go. Do not let the pressure to ‘know everything’ stop you from trying new things. You can take your time, change your mind, and evolve your goals.
Embrace your journey!
Life is not a race, and there isn’t just one ‘right’ way to be successful. And it took us a long time to accept that. You are on the right track, and every event, good or bad, makes you the person you were meant to be.
So make mistakes and learn from these mistakes, party with your friends, travel if you have enough money, volunteer if you have time, and help others if you have the capacity. You will one day realise that every step you took, even the scary ones, helped you learn more about yourself. Keep going, keep looking around, learn new things, and keep growing. You can do this. This article is the result of countless conversations, reflections, and shared experiences between us. We poured our hearts into writing this piece, combining our perspectives to create something we hope resonates with you. We hope it provides comfort, insight, and inspiration as you navigate your journey. We would love to hear from you. Hopefully, this is just the beginning of many conversations.
Text by Padma Angmo and Tsering Gaphel
Photograph by Padma Angmo
Padma Angmo is an Assistant Copy Editor for a consulting firm and is based in Delhi. She completed her Bachelor of Art in English Literature from Lady Shri Ram College for Women, Delhi University.
Tsering Gaphel is pursuing his Masters of Technology from Indian Institute of Technology Delhi. He is also on the Board of Directors of Ladakh Science Foundation and Chair at Lamstan.
Climate Activist Sonam Wangchuk, who led a month-long padyatra—a journey on foot to draw attention to certain ideas as popularised by M.K. Gandhi—from Ladakh to Delhi was detained by Delhi Police on 30 September at Singhu border crossing between Haryana and Delhi. Wangchuk shared a video on social media where he said. “I am being detained along with 150 Padyatris at Delhi border by a police force of 100s…some say 1,000. Many elderly men and women in their 80s and a few army veterans are with me. Our fate is unknown. We were on a most peaceful march to Bapu’s Samadhi in the largest democracy in the world, the mother of democracy…”
The detainment of Sonam Wangchuk and other padyatris was received with protests across the nation. Leader of Opposition in Parliament and senior Congress leader, Rahul Gandhi posted on social media, “The detention of Sonam Wangchuk ji and hundreds of Ladakhis peacefully marching for environmental and constitutional rights is unacceptable. Why are elderly citizens being detained at Delhi’s border for standing up for Ladakh’s future? Modi ji, like with the farmers, this ‘Chakravyuh’ will be broken, and so will your arrogance. You will have to listen to Ladakh’s voice.”
In Ladakh, Leh Apex Body (LAB) and Kargil Democratic Alliance (KDA) announced a two-day Ladakh Bandh along with protests and rallies in Kargil and Leh towns. Political Activist, Sajjad Hussain said, “The authorities must not push people to the wall by denying them their fundamental right to protest, especially after snatching away so much from the people of Ladakh, including our employment opportunities, land rights, representation, and more. Ladakhis have been deceived by the government and this is yet another betrayal after the events of 5 August, 2019.”
The month-long Delhi Chalo Padyatra was aimed to draw attention to the demands of the people of Ladakh. It was led by Climate Activist, Sonam Wangchuk and supported by LAB and KDA. The peaceful march started from Leh on 1 September and became part of a national campaign to draw the government’s attention to the region’s growing concerns. The main objective of the padyatra was to support the four-point agenda—statehood for Ladakh, inclusion in the Sixth Schedule, an additional Lok Sabha seat, and public service commission for Ladakh.
The padyatra covered 25 km each day and reached Delhi on the 30th day after covering over 730 km. Around 12 members from KDA joined the group on 29 September in Chandigarh. After they were detained, protest marches were held in Ladakh by KDA and LAB with support from civil society. The protesters condemned Government of India’s efforts to silence the voices of the peaceful padyatris. The protesters demanded immediate release of the detainees and fulfilment of the demands raised by Ladakhi leaders.
Protestor Murtaza Khalili termed it as a black day for Indian democracy when Government of India quashed the voices of Ladakhis and detained them for raising demands to protect Ladakh. He asserted that the detainees should have been welcomed after a rigorous month-long padyatra, and that the unjust action by Delhi Police has hurt the sentiments of all Ladakhis.
President Youth Congress Kargil, Manzoor Hussain said the action by Government of India is unconstitutional. “Sonam Wangchuk after the culmination of padyatra was going to highlight the demands for safeguards and statehood for Ladakh from Raj Ghat on 2 October, and the government has taken this action deliberately to suppress the demands of Ladakhis so that the nation and the world does not get to know what has been happening in Ladakh over the last five years.”
President District Congress Committee, Kargil, and Councillor in LAHDC, Kargil, Nasir Munshi said Government of India needs to understand the ground realities and challenges of Ladakh. He added, “We will continue our demands for safeguards and constitutional rights for Ladakh. Government of India should not test our patience. We have always protected our borders with Pakistan and China. It is high time that the government changes its policy for Ladakh.”
After the padyatris weredetained, Member of Parliament (MP), Ladakh, Mohmad Hanifa Jan and Chief Executive Councillor of LAHDC, Kargil, Dr Mohd Jaffer Akhoon and other political representatives were also detained. CEC of LAHDC, Kargil, Dr Jaffer Akhoon said, “We were taken in custody by Delhi Police on 1 October with promises that we would be allowed to meet the padyatris, which did not happen. Instead, they detained us at a police station. The BJP-led Government of India has deceived us onceagain as they have in the past.” They were released from detention late in the night of 1 October.
Leh district observed a two-day shutdown on 1 and 2 October. The leadership of BJP, Leh held a press conference on 1 October to express their concerns over these developments and extend support to the demands made by the people of Ladakh. State President of BJP, Ladakh, Phunchok Stanzin said, “On 24 August as requested by the Leh Apex Body we had a meeting and extended support to resuming talks with the government.”
This was echoed by CEC of LAHDC, Leh, Adv. Tashi Gyalson. He said, “We received the sad news that Delhi Police had detained the padyatris as they entered Delhi. Delhi Police may have a valid reason but this peaceful group had no plans to disrupt peace and would have simply made their way to a hotel or guesthouse. We have written a letter to Delhi Police requesting the immediate release of all the padyatris. A majority of the people are senior citizens, women and students and many of them are unaccustomed to Delhi’s climate and may develop health issues. We have asked Delhi Police to allow them to go to designated areas such as Majnu-ka-Tilla or Buddha Vihar. We also requested Police Commissioner of Delhi to arrange for regular medical checks for those who need medical care. Since, they are also fasting, we requested Delhi Police to ensure their well-being.”
He added, “We have been talking with party leaders in New Delhi. Delhi Police claimed that they have prevented them from entering Delhi as a preventive measure and not to harass anyone. On 2 October, the Prime Minister of India visits Raj Ghat to pay a floral tribute to Mahatma Gandhi and the padyatris would follow the same route. Delhi Police said that they had intelligence inputs that the padyatris may create a nuisance in Delhi and this is why they were barred from entering Delhi. In addition, they said that Singhu border is barricaded due to farmers’ protest with a large presence of police personnel. The Delhi border is sensitive and even Delhi High Court has directed the police not to remove the barricades until they are satisfied. They told us this is not specific for the padyatris.”
He further added that the padyatris did not have permission to enter Delhi as part of their protest. He added, “We were very surprised! They were saying that MP Ladakh would get the permission. Why was he not able to get the permission? He should have told people clearly that they did not have permission to enter Delhi. If he had told us, we could have helped. No one will hinder a peaceful protest. The padyatris were made to walk to the border without permission. So if our people faced difficulties, I would blame MP Ladakh. In fact, I met the MP in Nubra during the Hon’ble President of India’s visit but he did not say anything. Some people are trying to make unnecessary chaos.”
In response, on 2 October, the opposition party in LAHDC, Leh held a press conference. Upper Leh Councillor, Phuntsog Stanzin Tsepag stated that Congress party has always prioritised Ladakh be it LAHDC or Scheduled Tribe status. He condemned BJP for blaming MP Ladakh for not securing permission. He added, “When they are released, they [BJP] will also try to take credit for it and claim that they wrote to Police Commissioner of Delhi to secure their release. The BJP has not participated in the Sixth Schedule movement from the beginning, and the people of Ladakh understand this. They need to stop. They often speak of protection, but the people of Ladakh have made it clear that they want Sixth Schedule. It is time for them to unite with the people of Ladakh and demand Sixth Schedule. The time for misleading the people of Ladakh has passed.” Finally, late in the night on 2 October, the detainees were finally released and allowed to pay floral tributes to M. K. Gandhi at Raj Ghat. They were welcomed at Raj Ghat by political representatives, supporters, and members of civil society in Delhi. During the event, Sonam Wangchuk presented a memorandum appealing for resumption of talks with Ministry of Home Affairs within 15 days and permission for the padyatris to meet the President, Prime Minister, or Home Minister.
Abdul Ghani Sheikh in front of the remnant of Leh’s historic boundary wall we ‘discovered’ during our exploration of the town in 2015.
Abdul Ghani Sheikh was a friend in a way that only he could be. We bonded over our shared interest in the joys of reading and writing. We would spend hours talking about something we had read or something we had recently written. I would invariably get a call from him in case an issue was delayed. There are times in the winter when he would request people travelling from Leh to Srinagar to bring him back issues of the magazine so that he could read them. Similarly, he would send his hand-written articles through someone who was travelling from Srinagar to Leh. And if he failed to find any such traveller, he would get someone at home to photograph the pages of the article or visit a local computer shop in Srinagar to scan the article and email it across. His commitment to writing and engaging in dialogues with his fellow scholars was beyond question.
If there is one thing I learnt from Abdul Ghani Sheikh, it is to nurture a deep enthusiasm for knowledge, writing and reading. He spent a lifetime in pursuit of these and never seemed to age in this regard. Even as an octogenarian, he retained a childlike enthusiasm for books and knowledge, enjoyed the joys of writing and the excitement of freely sharing his wisdom and knowledge with others. This makes sense as he started his professional career as a teacher in a government school in Tingmosgang and later served as a principal in a private school after retirement.
A man of impeccable principles, he would be very disturbed when scholars would plagiarise anyone’s work or not provide proper citation. He would make meticulous notes on each thing he read to ensure that he attributed sources correctly when he wrote himself. He greatly valued originality of thought and style and always strived to improve his own skills, be it imagination or expression. And when he was able to develop a new and more effective method for narrating a tale, his excitement was palpable. He also had a very engaging sense of humour that allowed him to laugh at himself while also making light of various challenges he faced. Furthermore, he had a lifetime’s commitment to secular ideas and remained unflinchingly apolitical in his outlook and social engagement irrespective of the context.
A master of Urdu, he was equally proficient in English. His one regret, which he expressed on numerous occasions, was that he never learnt to read and write the Tibetan script (Bod-yig), which prevented him from accessing Ladakhi historical texts that were written in this script. He would lament how this created a major gap in his knowledge and he had to rely on translations of these texts whenever they were available.
He wrote many books and articles in his lifetime, which provide a measure of his intellect and personality. He is known for his collection of short stories, Zojila ke aar paar, Do muluk ek kahani,as well as Forsaking paradise: Stories from Ladakh and Frozen frames: Stories from Ladakh and novels such as Woh zamana and Dil hi to hai. He has authored over 70 short stories as well as a biography of Ladakhi leader, Sonam Norboo. His non-fictional works include Qalam qalamdar aur kitab, Ladakh muhaqqiqun aur sayahun ki nazar mein, Ladakh ki kahani, and Reflections on Ladakh, Tibet and Central Asia. He published articles regularly in a range of journals and periodicals including Sheeraza, Ladakh Studies, Ladags Melong, and Stawa. However, these books and articles only provide us a glimpse into the vastness of his interest, the reliability of his memory and the sharpness of his intellect. They do not provide us any clues to his warmth, inquisitiveness, inclusiveness, and generosity, which were a big part of his personality.
In addition, he prevailed over various interests and ideas, to ensure that the land in Chuttey Rantak was used to institute the Central Asian Museum, which is an ode to Ladakh’s historical links with Central Asia. Today, the museum houses a number of historical artefacts donated by various families in Ladakh that provide insight into the deep connection and exchange of goods and ideas that took place between Ladakh and its neighbouring regions including Tibet, Central Asia, Kashmir, and Punjab. Perhaps, the Central Asian Museum could be dedicated to his memory to encourage critical thinking, diligence in research, careful documentation, and the habit of writing and reading.
His passing marks the end of an era. He lived through several different chapters of Ladakh’s history. This included pre-independence times when he witnessed first-hand traders from Central Asia, Kashmir, Punjab and the plains of the Indian subcontinent exchange goods in Leh bazaar. He was also part of the change that Ladakh experienced as it became a part of independent India and then a world-famous tourism destination several decades later. At no point, was he out of step with his times. Instead, he emerged as a keeper of memories and shone like a beacon of stability at a time of rapid change. He shared his memories, experiences, and wisdom with everyone freely, irrespective of their background. In fact, I have been ‘guilty’ of ‘rewarding’ writers with an in-person meeting with him after they wrote articles for the magazine as many of them would request for a chance to meet him. He was a veritable institution by himself in terms of the breadth of his knowledge, memories, and wisdom. Despite being a celebrated writer, historian, and elder, he nurtured a deep sense of humility and was always open about the things he did not know as well as his ignorance.
He also served as the keeper of memories of a past that has all been forgotten. I remember a time when we walked around Leh town and he would point out different locations and share memories from his childhood and teenage years. We walked around the bazaar, along Stalam, and all the way to Skampari. During that walk, he would stop and chat with people—strangers and acquaintances alike—asking them about various historical landmarks and changes they had noticed in their area. The high point of that walk for us was the discovery of a fragment of one of the walls that historically marked the boundary of the old town precinct. We spent many days after that walk, excitedly discussing different aspects of Leh’s changing landscape and the remnant of the wall that had survived the ravages of time and developmental changes.
I extend condolences to his family. They are bearing the loss of a husband, a sibling, a father, father-in-law, a grandfather, and an uncle who has been an anchor for many decades. His passing is an irreparable loss to Ladakh, Jammu and Kashmir as well as the country as a whole including all the students, scholars and researchers with whom he spent his, experience, time and energy generously. He served as a historian and a torchbearer of knowledge and scholarship with his prodigious writing that documented historical events as well as everyday changes that continue to take place in Ladakh as well as Jammu and Kashmir.
His passing is also a deeply personal loss for me. He was a very close friend and we used to spend hours discussing different ideas and books. In fact, he was the one who picked the name Stawa for the magazine from a list of potential names we had compiled. He reasoned, “It is important our youth learn the importance of perspective…”
