We loved the beautiful spirit of the Ziro Music Festival
Music, nature, and the local culture combined to create magic!
Ziro.
Ziro. Not Zero.
Ziro Valley lies in Arunachal Pradesh, a four-hour drive from Itanagar, the capital of Arunachal Pradesh. Much as I like the Chinese people, I reject their notion that Arunachal Pradesh is a part of China. Arunachal Pradesh is part of India, and will always be part of India.
My political statement is over, and now I urge you to read the article I wrote for ‘The Times of India.’ In this article, I have included a brief overview of Ziro and the Ziro Music Festival, so I will not repeat that information. And, please compliment me on the excellence of my article.
Four of us planned this trip together to attend the four-day annual Ziro Music Festival, and while I had planned to do some photography, I didn’t have time to explore the valley independently, sit in the valley, and take lots of photos. However, I am fortunate to have met several young ladies at the festival and have a rough plan of where, in Arunachal, I wish to explore next time.
Blue Skies
The first impression that hit all of us between the eyes as soon as we left the aircraft was the beautiful blue sky. Delhi’s skies are dead. Delhi’s skies died a few decades back, and since then, we have been trying to pound the ghost of Delhi’s skies into the depths of Hell.
As soon as we left the airport, I stuck my phone out of the car window to record a YouTube Shorts video, the first of many videos I shared on that trip. The trip inspired me to buy a cheap gimbal on my return. Gimbals demand that you go on a learning curve and refuse to let you set up and run them easily. That is why I bought a cheap one and may invest in the new GoPro gimbal in the coming months.
The road to Ziro was fantastic, except for a bumpy, broken section soon after Itanagar. I always plan my travels, but this time, I allowed laziness to rule, and completely forgot that North East India lies an hour to the east of Delhi and, like China, we have one time zone. China needs four or five time zones, and India needs to. The sun dipped over the horizon by 5 pm, and by 6 pm, it was pitch dark. We drove on, and about an hour before we were to reach Ziro, a girl from the hotel called me to ask if we wished for dinner, which we did.
Chicken
Hotels close early in places like Ziro, even during the festival time. We asked for chicken curry, opting for ‘local’ chicken over broiler chicken. These ‘local’ chickens are free-range, a subject I will discuss in a subsequent post. After dinner, three of us went to attend the music festival, and got in to listen to the last hour of music.
The music at the festival ends by 10 pm, and then they have some electronic music at another stage, which continues until past midnight. For the party animals, there are ‘after parties’ outside the festival grounds, often carrying on through the night.
We had Signature Whisky, Budweiser, and numerous local brews (served in bamboo) throughout the festival, but this stuff is quite expensive! The Budweiser guys sold their stuff at a 33% premium to market prices, and I bet the local brew sold at a 500% premium. I cannot believe the locals pay such ridiculous prices.
The independent music scene in India is alive and well, and most of the bands at the festival were from North-East India, which is cool, because these people produce some brilliant music. Most people in India know almost nothing about North-East India, and while I have been brushing up on my knowledge, there is still much to learn.
Racism.
Do you want to witness racism in North India at its best? Even though many people from NE India have been traveling to, and living in many parts of India, those from ‘mainland India’ still sometimes call them ‘chinkies’ because of their Mongoloid features. We are ridiculous. On the one hand, we bleat about ‘sanatan dharma,’ and on the other, we display the most blatant and crude racism possible, barring Europeans and Israelis. Israelis are the world champions.
I won’t discuss the food at the festival grounds; you’ll have to wait for a subsequent post.
Nature. Plastic. The NCC
The organizers do not allow plastic bottles or any other kind of plastic on the grounds, which is excellent. They have huge bins all over the ground, yet humans are human – we love littering. I give full credit to the organizers and volunteers of the NCC (the National Cadet Corps) – they’d have the grounds cleaned daily. I used to be in the NCC and detested the discipline they imposed on us. My soul rebelled at the time, but now, I am grateful for the experience. It is incredible how a little bit of grey hair changes your perspective on life!
The music was mostly beautiful. Some of it went sailing above my head, but I did not care. There is good stuff happening in India – the music, the social, environmental, and political awareness of the young folk, as well as the blending of music and messaging. It is all good. There is hope for India, yet, and our arrogant political leaders are clueless about the underground changes happening in my country.
We met a few charming women and explored Ziro in fits and starts.
Yet, what really stood out for me was the spiritual freedom of sitting on the hillside as the sun traveled through the sky, the energy of Mother Nature seeping into us, the visitors. For those responsible for administering the festival, it was a lot of work.
The energy was infectious, and people stood or sat on the hillside as they listened to the music. For those four days, music, the energy of nature, and Ziro bound us together. We were like a melting pot of humanity. Then, it ended.
We returned to the festival ground the morning after. Volunteers were clearing the ground and dismantling the bamboo and wood stages and stalls (all sustainable stuff), and the energy dissipated into the ground.
The wind continued to blow clean air into our lungs. The rolling hills stood quietly, waiting for the next festival. I saw the footprints the audience left behind.
How many of you have read Carlos Castaneda? Many insist he is a fraud, and I could not care two hoots for the words of desiccated experts. His books contain much wisdom if you care to be sensitive to his writing.
The Mexican Indian sorcerer, Don Juan, once told him that we imprint our energy onto nature. If you throw a rock in anger, your anger will pass to the rock.
A negative person passes negative energy to the earth.
The footprints the audience left behind, as far as I could tell, only had positive energy.