The Bards of Nepal – Gañdharva
Nepal's rich history of musician journalists
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*Academic sources are noted, other information comes from interviews with contemporary Gañdharva
Nepal consists of a wide array of cultures, languages, ethnicities, and religions. Prior to the 21st century, these differences manifested in castes—a hierarchical structuring of society centered around traditional occupations, ancestors, cultural norms, religion, values, or some mix of any of these. Among these groups were the “Gaine,” which literally means “singer.” The Gaine people founded the genre of folk music indigenous to Nepal. They served as both entertainers and conveyors of news and information, a sort of corps of journalists, traveling across the country spinning songs of social and political import derived from their observations throughout their travels. In recompense for their efforts, people or patrons handed them cash or grain. Over time, the connotations associated with the name Gaine became negative, so the group later adopted the name Gañdharva (alternatively spelled Gandharba). The word Gāñdharva (गाञ्धर्व) derived from Gañdharva, and means “music in the celestial sphere” or refers to a specific form of music. According to Saroj Raj Panta, the Gañdharva claim to be descendants of Gañdharva Rishi.
Key to the Gañdharva’s identity is their instrument of choice—the sarangi. Composed of four strings stretched over a fretless neck, the sarangi is made from a single, solid piece of wood carved into ornate shapes. Held vertically, artists use a bow in similar fashion to playing a cello to caress the strings, each of which are tuned to harmonized notes. Sarangi heads might be plain or adorned with the visages of gods or other features of significance to the carver or player. From the top of the instrument juts four tuning pegs, themselves often highly decorative. Authentic sarangis are made by the Gañdharva themselves, though “each craftsman has his own style of carving and each geographical area has its own particular characteristics.” Sarangi are generally classified into three categories based on size. From largest to smallest they are Dhod, Magheula, and Tikha.
Sarangi; Credit: Thamel Shop
The origin of the Gañdharva people and the sarangi they carry is hard to nail down, though some have speculated they came to Nepal from Rajasthan, India during the 15th century. The reason, according to Pema Eden Samdup, was to flee the perils associated with the Mughal invasion of India. Part of the challenge lies with disentangling the myth from the reality. After all, the Gañdharva appear in the Mahābhārata, a text compiled in the 3rd century BCE. Maharshi Krishna Dvaipayana, better known as Vyāsaḥ or the “compiler,” described the Gañdharva’s music as “Celestial” or the music of the gods. In Vedic literature, the Gañdharva functioned as mediator and messenger between the human world and that of the gods, bequeathing divine secrets only to selected human beings. Even within the Buddhist canon, Gañdharvas are known for their musical skills. Among all the ancient texts, the Gañdharva seemingly possessed their own divine powers, be them healing, creativity, or charm. Some researchers suggest the Gañdharva were themselves low-level deities.
Whatever their origin, in Nepal the Gañdharva later became regarded as Dalits, a suppressed people “muted” by virtue of their social status. Whether they ever officially became part of the Dalit classification seems an ambiguous question, and is surely one of political and sociological complexity in Nepal. Bharat Raj Dhakal of Pokhara University argues it is that very suppression that provoked the Gañdharva’s subversion of hegemony through song. Moreover, the Gañdharva’s performing arts helped formulate Nepal’s national identity, according to Saroj Raj Panta, bringing disparate groups of people together through their music. The characterization of Gañdharva as ‘muted’ carries no small dose of irony given that the Gañdharva‘s fame derives from their voices themselves, elevated by their music. Further, the Gañdharva’s contribution to unity in Nepal seems contradictory to their ostensible vagrancy, but societal structure rarely adheres to any prescribed evolution.
Today, however, the Gañdharva tradition slowly erodes as the core of their identity—their practice as traveling minstrels and quasi-journalists—falls prey to an instantaneously connected society through the internet and digital devices. Making a living in the performing arts is extraordinarily difficult under any circumstances, but succeeding in a tradition organic to a world where the transmission of information was scarce and challenging seems nigh impossible in the interconnected modern world. Furthermore, performing the songs of yesteryear crafted to articulate knowledge that staled over years, not minutes, seems hopeless in a society plagued by an ever-shrinking attention span. Put bluntly, who will wait on a minstrel to convey information over months that social media manages in seconds, particularly among people who increasingly show disinterest toward the arts generally?
Preserving an interest in and knowledge of traditions and history seems to be a dying calling in today’s world. Where the drive for money seemingly supersedes all else, even those stringently committed to upholding paragons of the past find that the apathy of their surrounding countrymen leaves little choice but to abscond to other occupations. This holds true virtually everywhere, and the Gañdharva are no exception. Even as pure entertainers, an occupation that should have some space within Nepal’s tourism-driven economy, the Gañdharva have not garnered much success. Some have managed to adapt by offering music lessons or selling sarangi, but only some. Succeeding generations continue to migrate into other jobs, however. Several studies and conversations with people of the culture indicate that younger folks decline to enter into the musical or performing fields and instead seek work in construction, services, and agriculture jobs, including even heading abroad to find work as a very large number of Nepali people, particularly men, do. Indeed, should these trends continue, it may end up that soon the Gañdharva tradition will decline into a sidelined hobby, jumbled together with any number of other, cheaper forms of entertainment—its richness lost within the increasingly sterile, vapid monstrosity that is a capitalist-dominated society.
My sincerest thanks to those who read earlier drafts of this article and provided their insights, especially those of the Gañdharva tradition.
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I am a Certified Forensic Computer Examiner, Certified Crime Analyst, Certified Fraud Examiner, and Certified Financial Crimes Investigator with a Juris Doctor and a Master’s degree in history. I spent 10 years working in the New York State Division of Criminal Justice as Senior Analyst and Investigator. Today, I teach Cybersecurity, Ethical Hacking, and Digital Forensics at Softwarica College of IT and E-Commerce in Nepal. In addition, I offer training on Financial Crime Prevention and Investigation. I am also Vice President of Digi Technology in Nepal, for which I have also created its sister company in the USA, Digi Technology America, LLC. We provide technology solutions for businesses or individuals, including cybersecurity, all across the globe. I was a firefighter before I joined law enforcement and now I currently run a non-profit that uses mobile applications and other technologies to create Early Alert Systems for natural disasters for people living in remote or poor areas.
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