Forever Ladakh:The procession reaches Leh. Pic: Anirban Das Mahapatra

It’s as good as a modern pilgrimage gets — 400 kilometres of traversing through one of the most formidable mountainous terrains on this planet, an odyssey undertaken by more than 600 believers, every inch of it on foot, and in 40 days. And the objective of it all? Change.

Wednesday was no ordinary weekday at Leh, the district town in eastern Jammu and Kashmir perched high up in the barren mountain ranges of Ladakh. For one, it was the inaugural day of the 280-year-old Hemis Festival, one of the biggest events in the region. Hosted by the Hemis Monastery, located about 45 km from Leh, the festival commemorates the birth of Guru Padmasambhava, the founder of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition.

But this year’s festivities also saw the culmination of an initiative which reflects the winds of change that have recently started blowing over the region. Monks, nuns and believers from India and abroad set out on a padayatra (foot journey) from Manali on May 23 and finally reached the Hemis Monastery.

Organised by the Drukpa lineage, the chief Buddhist sect of Ladakh and headed by the Gyalwang Drukpa, the pilgrims were accorded a warm welcome by thousands of people who had gathered at the monastery.

The journey took the trekkers through valleys and vertigo-inducing, treacherous mountain passes, some of which were above 5,200 metres high. The chief monk himself had to fight off his chronic asthma along the way, just as everyone else battled their own personal ordeals. “The food along the way was not very tasty; the weather wouldn’t be on our side on many occasions, and then, there were the sunburns,” recalls the Taktra Rinpoche, deputy to the chief monk. “But it was a journey which changed every one of us in our own ways.”

There was a rider, however. Though organised by a religious body, the pilgrimage had a social objective. “While Ladakh is one of the last pristine regions where an ancient Buddhist way of life is practised and preserved, the society now faces several challenges related to rapid modernisation,” says the Gyalwang Drukpa. “The need of the hour is to strike a balance between the old and the new, so that the quality of life of Ladakh’s rural populace can be uplifted without compromising on their unique culture, tradition and heritage.”

Previously a protected area, Ladakh’s doors were opened to the world in 1974, when the government first began to promote tourism in the region. In the 35 years that have followed, the region has changed rapidly. And it’s not just restricted to Leh, which is now as developed as any other Indian town of its size and spread. The rural provinces of the region have also progressed. “Even the remotest villages are now electrified and receive power for at least five hours a day,” says Abdul Rashid, a veteran mountain guide who runs a Leh-based adventure company called Destination Inde. “Ladakh is no longer as backward as people imagine it to be,” he observes.

Education has received a fillip too, thanks primarily to the efforts of a non governmental organisation called the Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh (Secmol). “In the eighties, Ladakh’s schools were reeling under a failure rate of about 95 per cent,” says Konchok Norgay, coordinator, Secmol. But the 2001 Census registered a literacy rate of 62 per cent for Ladakh, beating the national average by one per cent. Things were clearly changing.

However, that is precisely what many are afraid of. “We observed during our journey that the valleys of Ladakh were still fresh, and the villagers were keen to keep it that way,” says the Gyalwang Drukpa. “However, it’s obvious that the people are also looking forward to the trappings of modernity, which they believe will guarantee them an easier life. The problem is how to introduce it to them in a controlled manner.”

These apprehensions are not wholly unfounded. Environmental degradation has already become a problem. During their journey through so-called virgin territory, the pilgrims cleaned up some 60,000 non-biodegradable items that were found littering their path. Unchecked depletion of natural resources such as water and firewood is also a major cause for concern.

Experts also fear that the lure of modern creature comforts might see villagers abandoning their traditional ways of life and occupation to migrate to cities as unskilled labour. “The idea that urban life is a better life might see the villagers losing respect for their own culture and traditions,” says Norgay.

The Taktra Rinpoche seconds the observation. “What we need to be happy and what we want to be happy are two different things. Our people need to know the difference before they can be exposed to the next level of change,” he says.

Clearly, quality education holds the key. “The people have to be taught how to seamlessly incorporate technology into their traditional way of life,” says Norgay.

The monastic wing, on its own part, is also promoting educating by setting up the Druk White Lotus School, through which it intends to provide education that’s rooted in the local culture, even while empowering children with the best of modern schooling. Now in its formative stages, the school stands to benefit from the padayatra, which was also devoted to generating funds for the educational project.

The pilgrimage was also devoted to spreading awareness about architectural preservation. “Much of the pilgrimage was along the old trade routes, and there were places where we saw sculptures identical to the Buddha figurines that Bamiyan in Afghanistan was known for,” says a pilgrim. “Some of the oldest and near-extinct Buddhist artifacts are hidden away in tiny villages or uninhabited areas. These are priceless Indian treasures and need to be preserved, and a part of the pilgrimage was also about educating the villagers about how best to take care of these relics.”

Now that the tradition of the pilgrimage has been set, the Gyalwang Drukpa is keen on taking it forward. “Everywhere we went, the villagers would hold our hands and ask us to come and visit them again,” he says. “So it would be interesting to repeat this pilgrimage once in a while, if only to see how Ladakh is changing with the times,” says the head monk.

And it would all be for the better, the pilgrims hope.