What does the word Balti mean to you? A bucket, which you use to wash the floor? A spicy chicken curry served in a wok?
What about the word Kargil? What images does that conjure in your mind? High mountain glaciers? Jawans exchanging fire across the Line of Control?
Most readers are more familiar with the latter word than the former, but they go hand in hand. Kargil, the infamous flashpoint of the estranged South Asian family, is situated in the heart of one of the subcontinent’s least known and politically marginalised sub-regions: Baltistan.
The Baltis share challenges similar to the Kurds and Baluch, in that they are culturally one but nationally many. But unlike the Baluch who enjoy (ostensible) political power in two large provinces of Pakistan and Iran, and the Kurds who have an autonomous region stretching across northern Iraq, the south Asian Baltis have been denied full ethnic recognition and meaningful political validation by both Delhi and Islamabad.
Looking north into the high Himalayas and westward into Iran for their legends and cultural inspiration, the southern plains of the sub-continent are foreign regions to the people of Baltistan, places with which they must make peace but never embrace.
Swedish academic Jan Magnusson of Lund University has done some ground- breaking work in both Kargil and Gilgit by studying the way in which popular music is playing a role in creating (and maintaining) a political consciousness among a cultural group increasingly feeling the stress of what he calls the "colonialism from the inside" of India and Pakistan.
Sham Sham
This song was a major local hit among Baltis several years back and epitomises the pop "ghazal" of the region. Production values are homemade and filmed by amateurs on cheap equipment. Interestingly, though, most recordings are laid down in studios in Darya Ganj, Delhi using non-Balti technicians. The music is recognisably contemporary Indian/Pakistani (jhankar beats, electronic keyboards, drum machines) but the lyrics are a Hobson-Jobson of languages: Hindi, English, Tibetan and Balti. Indeed, this linguistic amalgam is critical to understanding the intent of this genre. The Balti language is a blend of Tibetan and Farsi dialects and the bedrock of their cultural identity and activism.
Sning Khoqpa
Khadim the Pang, an Indian Balti is one of the biggest singers of these Himalayan ghazals. This video though, was produced in Pakistan, signaling the cross-border solidarity and cultural identity that exists among this community. The lyrics are almost entirely in Tibetan/Balti with the exception of few recognizable Persian-Turkic words like ‘duniya’ and ‘dushman’. The scene is inspiring snowcapped peaks, lush valleys and rushing streams. Unlike in Hindi films where song and dance sequences in the Shalimar Gardens emphasised the "exoticness" of India the same geography in these videos stresses the "normal-ness" of "our home". Celebrating the landscape of Baltistan, is a key aspect of these videos, as it is in the parallel political movement.
Duniya Skuray
This clips opens dramatically with a romantic vision of a Himalayan Marlboro country. Cowboys (independent, free sprits), horses (wild and noble) and mountains (strong, immovable, eternal) send an unambiguous cultural message. These elements Magnusson calls the "hidden transcripts" which the young people of Skardu and Kargil instantly understand and internalise. When the "public transcripts" of political engagement and cultural recognition are not allowed, these subtle, seemingly innocuous videos emit powerful signals to "those who have ears to hear".
Lastot Thonmo
Though the male singers of Balti ghazals are local men, such as Khadim and the singer here, Dorjey (Stakmo), the women are from other parts of India. Does this reflect a social conservatism derived from the Shi’a Islam practiced by many Baltis? Hard to say. Balti culture is a blend of Tibetan and Shi’a but like in so many other mountain communities religious identity and practice is less rigid and static, more syncretic. In Pakistan more so than India, as Islamic practice has become ever more co-opted by the State, Baltis have responded in kind by expressing strong religious positions. And some Balti preachers have risen to prominence in other parts of the Muslim world but back home the Movement is essentially cultural and political.
Rang Chen
Love is the theme here. The music inoffensive and the scenery stunning. Where is the political message? According to Magnusson, these clips express ‘local political resistance against the nation states of India and Pakistan’ by choosing to sing in Tibetan (rather than Hindi or Urdu) and emphasizing the geography of the Himalaya region they have lived in for centuries. Though the provenance of this particular video (which sadly ends prematurely) is not known, several of the others we have shared have been produced and composed by known political activists who use the platforms of their non governmental organisations to agitate in whatever ways available for cultural, political and social rights.
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What about the word Kargil? What images does that conjure in your mind? High mountain glaciers? Jawans exchanging fire across the Line of Control?
Most readers are more familiar with the latter word than the former, but they go hand in hand. Kargil, the infamous flashpoint of the estranged South Asian family, is situated in the heart of one of the subcontinent’s least known and politically marginalised sub-regions: Baltistan.
The Baltis share challenges similar to the Kurds and Baluch, in that they are culturally one but nationally many. But unlike the Baluch who enjoy (ostensible) political power in two large provinces of Pakistan and Iran, and the Kurds who have an autonomous region stretching across northern Iraq, the south Asian Baltis have been denied full ethnic recognition and meaningful political validation by both Delhi and Islamabad.
Looking north into the high Himalayas and westward into Iran for their legends and cultural inspiration, the southern plains of the sub-continent are foreign regions to the people of Baltistan, places with which they must make peace but never embrace.
Swedish academic Jan Magnusson of Lund University has done some ground- breaking work in both Kargil and Gilgit by studying the way in which popular music is playing a role in creating (and maintaining) a political consciousness among a cultural group increasingly feeling the stress of what he calls the "colonialism from the inside" of India and Pakistan.
Sham Sham
This song was a major local hit among Baltis several years back and epitomises the pop "ghazal" of the region. Production values are homemade and filmed by amateurs on cheap equipment. Interestingly, though, most recordings are laid down in studios in Darya Ganj, Delhi using non-Balti technicians. The music is recognisably contemporary Indian/Pakistani (jhankar beats, electronic keyboards, drum machines) but the lyrics are a Hobson-Jobson of languages: Hindi, English, Tibetan and Balti. Indeed, this linguistic amalgam is critical to understanding the intent of this genre. The Balti language is a blend of Tibetan and Farsi dialects and the bedrock of their cultural identity and activism.
Sning Khoqpa
Khadim the Pang, an Indian Balti is one of the biggest singers of these Himalayan ghazals. This video though, was produced in Pakistan, signaling the cross-border solidarity and cultural identity that exists among this community. The lyrics are almost entirely in Tibetan/Balti with the exception of few recognizable Persian-Turkic words like ‘duniya’ and ‘dushman’. The scene is inspiring snowcapped peaks, lush valleys and rushing streams. Unlike in Hindi films where song and dance sequences in the Shalimar Gardens emphasised the "exoticness" of India the same geography in these videos stresses the "normal-ness" of "our home". Celebrating the landscape of Baltistan, is a key aspect of these videos, as it is in the parallel political movement.
Duniya Skuray
This clips opens dramatically with a romantic vision of a Himalayan Marlboro country. Cowboys (independent, free sprits), horses (wild and noble) and mountains (strong, immovable, eternal) send an unambiguous cultural message. These elements Magnusson calls the "hidden transcripts" which the young people of Skardu and Kargil instantly understand and internalise. When the "public transcripts" of political engagement and cultural recognition are not allowed, these subtle, seemingly innocuous videos emit powerful signals to "those who have ears to hear".
Lastot Thonmo
Though the male singers of Balti ghazals are local men, such as Khadim and the singer here, Dorjey (Stakmo), the women are from other parts of India. Does this reflect a social conservatism derived from the Shi’a Islam practiced by many Baltis? Hard to say. Balti culture is a blend of Tibetan and Shi’a but like in so many other mountain communities religious identity and practice is less rigid and static, more syncretic. In Pakistan more so than India, as Islamic practice has become ever more co-opted by the State, Baltis have responded in kind by expressing strong religious positions. And some Balti preachers have risen to prominence in other parts of the Muslim world but back home the Movement is essentially cultural and political.
Rang Chen
Love is the theme here. The music inoffensive and the scenery stunning. Where is the political message? According to Magnusson, these clips express ‘local political resistance against the nation states of India and Pakistan’ by choosing to sing in Tibetan (rather than Hindi or Urdu) and emphasizing the geography of the Himalaya region they have lived in for centuries. Though the provenance of this particular video (which sadly ends prematurely) is not known, several of the others we have shared have been produced and composed by known political activists who use the platforms of their non governmental organisations to agitate in whatever ways available for cultural, political and social rights.
