A portrayal of divinity from Turtuk : Nubra Valley, Ladakh, India.
Portrait of a little girl playing at her door.
Turtuk is a village 205 km from Leh on the banks of Shyok River, in Nubra Valley, Ladakh, India. Turtuk gram panchayat is the northern most village of India. It was under control of Pakistan since independence of both countries. India took the control during Indo-Pakistani War of 1971. Predominantly a muslim village. residents speak Baltistani, Urdu and Ladakhi Language.
The village of Turtuk which was unseen by tourists till 2010, is a virgin destination for people in Nubra Valley, who seek peace and an interaction with a tribal community of Ladakh. The village is stuffed with apricot trees and children. The local tribe, Balti, follows its age old customs in their lifestyle and speak a language which is just spoken and not written. Balti people, were part of Pakistan up-till 1972. For tourists Turtuk offers serene camping sites with environment friendly infrastructure.
Tourism
The village offers views of Beautiful Shyok River Valley. On clear days tourists can have glimpse of Mount K2 peak, the second highest peak, located across the border in Pakistan. Though a muslim village, there are few gompas located on the plateu above Shyok River. There is an old royal house to see in village.
Turtuk , as I saw it :
On 10th October, 2014, after a leisurely breakfast, we started off in the morning from Hundar and reached Turtuk at 1.30 pm. It was a bright and sunny day. The mountains and valleys, especially along the course of Shyok River, evoked in me romantic notions of adventure and discovery. As we reached Turtuk, a group of curious children with beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks, unlike typical mongoloid features of the Ladakhis, came out of their homes and welcomed us. I had always been fascinated to meet new people and their culture. The narrow alleys went up and down as we walked around the little village. I was struck by how graceful the women looked in their colorful tribal attire; many of them had startling blue eyes with sharp profile, resembling typical Aryans. While gathering information regarding remote villages in this region of Ladakh, I found one such beautiful remote village of Baigdandu, not very far from Turtuk. This village is known for its people with beautiful blue eyes, auburn hair and rosy cheeks. Local lore has it, that they were a Greek tribe who came in search of Jesus Christ’s tomb and eventually settled in Baigdandu . I have no idea whether such migration settled in Turtuk or not, but their features seemed very much like the European tribe. I found one woman grinding wheat grains in a small dark chamber, with her baby strapped to her back. Her face and eyelids were almost covered by the dusty grains, but that never tarnished her inherent beauty and innocence. Beside the bumpy and dusty lanes stood array of houses, one or two storeyed, with beautifully crafted wooden doors and windows, mostly made up of rosewoods. I met a small girl playing with her friends in that busy morning in one of the narrow alleys. She had divine eyes, rosy cheeks and a very innocent look. I took a series of candid shots as she was playing at her door. She looked like little Madona.
I had barely spent forty five minutes or more, hurrying through the village lanes and meeting village people, especially the children when I heard a loud voice of our tour manager, calling for a gathering at the old royal house. I rushed and reached a deserted courtyard, remarkably old, where I found broken earthen pots lay here and there on the floor. I climbed up the first floor, and reached a bare terrace, through the centre of which, you can see the courtyard below. At the end of the terrace there stood a big hall. By the time I entered the hall, our obedient group had already started listening to the talk of an old fellow, must be a septuagenarian, with a long brown beard . He was dressed in a long embroidered robe with a traditionally crafted wooden cane in his hand. He must have been the last descendent of the royal family. The room was decorated with antiques, pictures, ornaments and clothes used by the ancestors. On one wall the ancestral history was found. The old fellow narrated the whole history of his royal family in Urdu. We left the house finally waving goodbye to his beautiful grand-daughter, one of the cutest kids I have ever seen. We left the village, had our lunch, and set our journey back to Hundar with unforgettable memories. I hereby share many of my sweet moments of Turtuk with you through my photographs. Hope you will like them.
A portrayal of divinity from Turtuk : Nubra Valley, Ladakh, India.
Portrait of a little girl playing at her door.
Turtuk is a village 205 km from Leh on the banks of Shyok River, in Nubra Valley, Ladakh, India. Turtuk gram panchayat is the northern most village of India. It was under control of Pakistan since independence of both countries. India took the control during Indo-Pakistani War of 1971. Predominantly a muslim village. residents speak Baltistani, Urdu and Ladakhi Language.
The village of Turtuk which was unseen by tourists till 2010, is a virgin destination for people in Nubra Valley, who seek peace and an interaction with a tribal community of Ladakh. The village is stuffed with apricot trees and children. The local tribe, Balti, follows its age old customs in their lifestyle and speak a language which is just spoken and not written. Balti people, were part of Pakistan up-till 1972. For tourists Turtuk offers serene camping sites with environment friendly infrastructure.
Tourism
The village offers views of Beautiful Shyok River Valley. On clear days tourists can have glimpse of Mount K2 peak, the second highest peak, located across the border in Pakistan. Though a muslim village, there are few gompas located on the plateu above Shyok River. There is an old royal house to see in village.
Turtuk , as I saw it :
On 10th October, 2014, after a leisurely breakfast, we started off in the morning from Hundar and reached Turtuk at 1.30 pm. It was a bright and sunny day. The mountains and valleys, especially along the course of Shyok River, evoked in me romantic notions of adventure and discovery. As we reached Turtuk, a group of curious children with beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks, unlike typical mongoloid features of the Ladakhis, came out of their homes and welcomed us. I had always been fascinated to meet new people and their culture. The narrow alleys went up and down as we walked around the little village. I was struck by how graceful the women looked in their colorful tribal attire; many of them had startling blue eyes with sharp profile, resembling typical Aryans. While gathering information regarding remote villages in this region of Ladakh, I found one such beautiful remote village of Baigdandu, not very far from Turtuk. This village is known for its people with beautiful blue eyes, auburn hair and rosy cheeks. Local lore has it, that they were a Greek tribe who came in search of Jesus Christ’s tomb and eventually settled in Baigdandu . I have no idea whether such migration settled in Turtuk or not, but their features seemed very much like the European tribe. I found one woman grinding wheat grains in a small dark chamber, with her baby strapped to her back. Her face and eyelids were almost covered by the dusty grains, but that never tarnished her inherent beauty and innocence. Beside the bumpy and dusty lanes stood array of houses, one or two storeyed, with beautifully crafted wooden doors and windows, mostly made up of rosewoods. I met a small girl playing with her friends in that busy morning in one of the narrow alleys. She had divine eyes, rosy cheeks and a very innocent look. I took a series of candid shots as she was playing at her door. She looked like little Madona.
I had barely spent forty five minutes or more, hurrying through the village lanes and meeting village people, especially the children when I heard a loud voice of our tour manager, calling for a gathering at the old royal house. I rushed and reached a deserted courtyard, remarkably old, where I found broken earthen pots lay here and there on the floor. I climbed up the first floor, and reached a bare terrace, through the centre of which, you can see the courtyard below. At the end of the terrace there stood a big hall. By the time I entered the hall, our obedient group had already started listening to the talk of an old fellow, must be a septuagenarian, with a long brown beard . He was dressed in a long embroidered robe with a traditionally crafted wooden cane in his hand. He must have been the last descendent of the royal family. The room was decorated with antiques, pictures, ornaments and clothes used by the ancestors. On one wall the ancestral history was found. The old fellow narrated the whole history of his royal family in Urdu. We left the house finally waving goodbye to his beautiful grand-daughter, one of the cutest kids I have ever seen. We left the village, had our lunch, and set our journey back to Hundar with unforgettable memories. I hereby share many of my sweet moments of Turtuk with you through my photographs. Hope you will like them.