The Ladakh Confluence: Music and mountains

28th August, 2009. The sun was scorching and a group of maroon robed musical monks paraded across the Sindhu Ghat festival site in Choglamsar some 8km from Leh declaring it open. We found the only respite from the sun in the shade of a lonely tree, prime real estate and sharing the space, we met some of the people who were to become our best companions for the next four days. The small crowd – a mix of travellers and creatives and hippies and media all came together at 11, 500 feet with a backdrop unlike any other to celebrate local and international music in the first festival of its kind.

Vedanth Bharadwaj gave me goosebumps, his lilting voice and songs by the great poet Kabir enchanting. I loved Anna Van Riel and her cute confessional songs and stories, each a delightful confection. Shaa’ir and Func were wonderful – Monica Sharma Dogra is a slam poet gypsy goddess, I liked both their electronic and acoustic sets. I loved the dynamic between Talvin Singh (tabla) and Rahul Sharma (santoor). Even the moon danced in the sky. Sharma, talented, sexy man that he is was so expressive and amazing. Davide Swarup and Ortal Pelleg mesmerised. Portugal’s Terrakota and the energy they brought to the stage were fantastic. Austrian beatbox boyband Bauchklang were brilliant. But nobody made as big an impression on me as Kutle Khan, the morchang and khartal playing frontman from Rajasthan Roots. What a rockstar. Fucking. Hell.

There were a few glitches and hitches in the planning and execution and the turnout could have been better, but apart from swampy feet, I have nothing but good memories of the festival – the organisers, a lovely and passionate bunch of people, sure to iron out the kinks for subsequent events.

Other highlights were the beautiful solar powered film tent filled with comfortable mattresses that showcased short films each day. A water refill tent which I know did wonders to reduce plastic – I know we refilled ours at least 30 times. The food and chai tent where Tsewang, a cute 11 year old boy serenaded us. The after parties! The compostable Ladakhi longdrop for a loo. Yeah, not so much. That novelty ran out real fast.

Often, we were treated to impromptu performances. Seems everyone became a musician in the mountains. Witnessing these spontaneous jams was awe-inspiring.  My absolute favourite thing were the drum circles each night. We’d gather around bonfires, artists included each person with an instrument, a circle of djembe players and two rows of percussionists behind them with Roberto Narain orchestrating the whole thing. Powerful, magical stuff.

Peep the show.