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Tracing the Legacy of a Time-Honored Tradition in Gilgit-Baltistan:
In the unforgiving terrain of Gilgit-Baltistan, where survival hinges on resilience and adaptability, communities have long adhered to a meticulously structured calendar, dictated by seasonal cycles. This tradition governed every aspect of life, from agriculture to livestock management, ensuring sustenance in an environment fraught with challenges.
Spring marked a time of both relief and urgency—relief at having endured the brutal winter, yet urgency in preparing for the arduous tasks ahead. Fields and water channels had to be cleared and reinforced, laying the groundwork for the cultivation of life-sustaining crops. Livestock, weakened from the harsh cold, were readied for their seasonal migration to the high-altitude pastures, where they would graze and regain strength over the summer.
The village then braced for the scorching summer, a season of relentless labor as crops ripened and fruits reached harvest. By autumn, households were at their most prosperous, with stores brimming with cereals, dried fruits, and dairy products. It was during this time—when food supplies were at their peak and the toil of the year had momentarily eased—that communities indulged in celebrations. Weddings and festivals were carefully timed to coincide with this period of abundance, ensuring ample provisions and leisure for communal festivities.
Yet, despite their remarkable resilience, the people of Gilgit-Baltistan endured profound hardships. Burdened by relentless taxation and chronic economic instability, they found themselves at the mercy of a system that offered little in return. Development efforts were virtually nonexistent, save for the rare construction of a water channel or a footpath—both entirely dependent on public labor and initiative.
Thus, the rhythm of life in these remote highlands was not only dictated by nature’s cycles but also shaped by the enduring struggle for survival.
The arrival of a government official in a village was a rare and significant event, announced by the beating of drums, which signified an emergency. The village musicians, skilled in these specific beats since ancient times, categorized their rhythms into war and peace calls, among others. This tradition had long been an integral part of village life, summoning the community for immediate collective action. Even for routine communal tasks, such as the annual repair of irrigation channels or the maintenance of village tracks, drumbeats served as a customary call to action.
These communal undertakings were known as 'halshari'—a term used by the people of Bagrote Valley to describe intra-village cooperative efforts while the name of the cooperative communal work may vary from valley to valley. Entry into civil services or embarking on any flourishing business emterprise was virtually inconceivable at the time in this landlocked region, given the widespread illiteracy and the region's minimal administrative infrastructure. The only viable employment opportunity was induction into the 'Scouts,' the singular paramilitary force of the area which was primarily established for policing duty. These historical realities reflect the customs and socio-economic conditions that prevailed merely six decades ago when the writer was in his teens and attending school.
Cultural Traditions and Evolution
Despite the passage of time and the spread of Islam, many ancient customs remained deeply ingrained in the region’s social fabric. However, persistent admonitions from the clergy, who deemed these traditions remnants of the pre-Islamic era, led to their gradual decline.
One such tradition was the communal gathering at the 'beyak'—a circular meeting place centrally located within villages. This shaded spot, typically under towering chenar or walnut trees, served as a hub where villagers convened, particularly at midday when fieldwork was paused. These gatherings were essential for dispute resolution and communal decision-making, as well as a space for social engagement. Notable beyaks in the Bagrote Valley included those in Taisote and Bilchar (Lower Bagrote), as well as Farfoo and Bulchi (Upper Bagrote). The ancient chenar tree skirting the beyak at Sinakir village remains a significant landmark.
Agricultural and Festive Practices
The agricultural calendar dictated several customs. One notable practice was the grinding of wheat in large quantities immediately after harvest, ensuring a sufficient supply for the entire season. This was particularly critical in high-altitude settlements, where early winter freezing could halt the grinding process. The freshly milled flour was stored in large wooden containers called 'taon' in Shina. While some communities stored whole grains in these containers, others crafted them from birch or willow twigs and placed them atop houses, protected by plaster to prevent water seepage.
A major annual festivity was the 'Noos' a Shina term, observed in mid-November. Each household would slaughter a specially bred goat, sheep, or bullock, known as 'nasaloo.' The animal was fattened for months, receiving a daily grain supplement—a practice called 'baspoor.' During its heyday, the Noos festival was celebrated with great enthusiasm. However, urbanization and daily meat availability have rendered the tradition obsolete in Gilgit town and its outskirts. Only in Hunza does the equivalent festival, 'Ghanooni,' continue to be celebrated with traditional fervor. Similarly, the celebration of 'Nauroz,' marking the new year, has retained its former vibrancy in certain areas.
Preservation of Meat and Dairy
An interesting aspect of the Noos tradition was the preservation of meat. The stomach of the slaughtered animal was filled with spiced meat, stitched, and boiled along with the head in a large cooking pot called 'balosh.' The prepared meat was then stored in a traditional cellar, 'dambor,' for extended periods. Some affluent families preserved these delicacies until the next Noos, proudly serving them to esteemed guests as a mark of hospitality.
Another remarkable practice was the long-term preservation of butter. After being kneaded to perfection, the butter was wrapped in birch bark—renowned for its preservative properties—and buried underground. The affluent would store hundreds of kilos in this manner. The longer the butter aged, the more fragrant it became. During special occasions like weddings, this aged butter was unearthed and generously added to long-boiled meats, producing a pungent yet highly esteemed dish.
In the Shina language, Buzono refers to someone lean and slender. This festival marks an important seasonal transition—bidding farewell to the harsh winter and eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring. After this day, snowfall in the lower regions of Gilgit-Baltistan becomes a rare sight, the warmth of the sun intensifies, and the first leaves begin to sprout on some trees. In warmer areas, people need heating only at night.
What is cooked on this day?
One of the highlights of this festival is Dang Deram—a delicacy of Gilgit. It is a type of halwa but far richer and more exquisite in taste. Sadly, making Dang Darm has now become a lost tradition. Preparing just 10 kilograms of this dish requires at least 3 to 4 kilograms of walnuts. To cook even 5 kilograms, it must be simmered over fire for at least 4 to 5 hours until it reaches a rubber-like consistency, turning completely black in color. It is eaten like chocolate and, if stored properly, remains edible for a long time. This sweet dish is highly cherished by the people of Gilgit-Baltistan.
Another traditional dish prepared on this occasion is Warku, known as Warki in its plural form in Shina. It consists of small pieces of meat mixed with onions, which are then stuffed into the larger intestine of goats slaughtered during Nasalo in mid-December each year. The ends of the filled intestine, which measures approximately one and a half feet in length, are tightly sealed using the smaller intestines of the goat. Once prepared, the Warki are cooked on the same day as the Nasalo slaughter. After cooking, they are stored in a 'dambur,' a large wooden box fixed inside the house for preservation. Warki are then saved for later consumption, particularly on festive occasions. Some villagers took great pride in preserving them for extended periods, sometimes even until the next Nasalo season.box fixed at the house to, for preservation. ‘Warki’ are then preserved for consumption. later on festive occasions. Some village people were proud to keep the ‘worki’ for extended period even to such times when next ‘nasalo’ season approached.
Forgotten Legacies
Tragically, our new generation has abandoned the centuries-old traditions of their forefathers. Ancestors celebrated Shino and other allied events associated with the annual calendar, with great zeal and fervor. But, all these customs and traditions are in the wane today in the changed scenarios.
Simple Living and Traditional Health
Traditional meals were largely unseasoned but deeply nourishing. Vegetables were boiled without additives, and cooking oil was rarely used. Instead, a lump of fat from the 'nasalo' was mixed with food. Additionally, indigenous oils extracted from walnuts, almonds, and apricot kernels were preferred over modern cooking oils. The people subsisted on their own farm produce, leading to a life of self-sufficiency and robust health.
This simple lifestyle fostered exceptional physical endurance. The region was once home to many renowned athletes and wrestlers like Mehrban of Sharote and others as referred to in a write-up titled "The Unsung Titans of Gilgit-Baltistan" dated 26.06.2025 in this website who were known for their strength and stamina. Other famed for their strong muscles power included Ghulam Haider, Shukoor Muhammad from Taisote, Bagrote displayed unequalled Darabi Pulling might (Tug-of-war).Unlike today’s world, materialism had not yet infiltrated society, and social harmony remained largely intact. There was no room for the socio-economic disparities and ideological divisions that plague modern communities. The absence of materialistic obsessions contributed to a more unified and contented society—one that, in many ways, was healthier and more resilient than the present.
A society that fails to preserve the customs of its ancestors risks fading into obscurity. Let us embrace and celebrate our rich heritage, reviving the cherished traditions of our forefathers to keep their spirit alive for generations to come.
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