Traditional Folk Music of Uttarakhand Isn’t Just Songs—It’s a Ritual
- Glacier Gazette
- Jun 26
- 3 min read
—An untold melody stitched into every heartbeat of the hills.
I remember my first night in a remote village near Bageshwar. No cellphone bars. No city lights. Just the rustle of pine leaves, distant dog barks, and a group of villagers sitting near a temple under the full moon. Then the dhol and damau began—low, slow, deliberate. An old man with a tilak on his forehead closed his eyes and began singing. I didn’t understand all the words. But my skin tingled. It wasn’t just a performance. It felt like a gateway.
That was the moment I realized—traditional folk music of Uttarakhand isn’t just songs. It’s a living ritual.
In this article, you will learn:
🎶 Why this music is considered sacred, not just cultural
🪕 The difference between Kumaon, Garhwal, and Jaunsar musical traditions
🧙♂️ How instruments like the dhol and damau summon stories, not just beats
🎤 Real-life references and how this music is still preserved today

Garhwali folk singer captured in soulful morning ritual moment.
Songs that Heal, Not Just Entertain
In the hills of Uttarakhand, music isn’t used for albums. It’s used for answers. Someone's sick? There's a Jagar for that. A spirit needs calming? The dhol knows the rhythm. A wedding without Mangal Geet would feel hollow.
The traditional folk music of Uttarakhand blends mythology, emotion, and ritual. Each performance is deeply personal and community-driven, passed down through oral storytelling rather than written notes.
It’s not uncommon to hear a 70-year-old singing the same Pandavani ballad his grandfather taught him, with zero deviation. Why? Because it isn’t “his song” to remix. It’s the village’s memory.
What Makes This Music a Ritual?
Jagar: Performed to invoke deities and ancestral spirits, often involving trance-like states. It’s less of a concert and more of a spiritual contract. The Jagariya (singer) channels energies through epic storytelling and powerful chanting.
Pandavani: A unique Garhwali tradition, where villagers sing stories of the Pandavas as if they were locals who once walked their paths.
Mahasu Bhajans in Jaunsar-Bawar: These aren’t casual tunes. They're promises to their most revered god, Mahasu Devta.
Each of these isn't about devotion. They are devotion.
How Kumaon, Garhwal, and Jaunsar Speak Through Sound
Kumaon: Known for Chanchari, Jhoda, and ritualistic Harul. Often performed in group circles, these songs hold deep social and ceremonial meaning.
Garhwal: Rich in Jagar, Mangal, and Barada Nati. Many songs are emotionally charged ballads that act as oral archives of faith, war, and love.
Jaunsar-Bawar: Lesser-known but deeply spiritual, the music here is slower, darker, and rooted in age-old traditions that blend pre-Vedic rituals with local mythology.
Each region doesn’t just have a different rhythm—it has a different purpose.
Instruments That Speak Louder Than Words
Dhol and Damau: Played in sync, these drums are more than percussion—they set the heartbeat of the ritual.
Ransingha: A ceremonial horn used during devta processions.
Hurka: Often used in storytelling dance performances called Hurka Baul, especially in Pithoragarh.
These instruments don’t just produce sound. They carry legacy, identity, and responsibility.
“Music is what feelings sound like when they’re too ancient to explain in words.”—Unknown Garhwali singer, recorded by the Anthropological Survey of India (2007)
Preserving the Pulse
Thanks to institutions like the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts (IGNCA) and platforms like ARCHIVE India, several field recordings and ethnographic studies are being preserved. However, the real guardians are villagers and traveling artists who don’t think of themselves as "musicians"—just as keepers of memory.
Local radio stations like AIR Almora and AIR Pauri still occasionally broadcast original folk performances, while YouTube creators such as Kumaoni Roots and Sounds of the Hills are bringing these unheard voices online.
Final Note That Stays With You
If you ever feel like your Spotify playlist isn’t hitting the soul, maybe it’s because it lacks the depth of something sacred.
Traditional folk music of Uttarakhand isn’t background noise. It’s the heartbeat of a people who still believe that music can heal, protect, and connect. It’s sung by farmers, priests, and grandmothers—not for applause, but for continuity.
And if you ever sit quietly in one of those Himalayan villages, listen closely. That’s not just someone singing. That’s centuries of love, loss, war, worship, and wisdom echoing through the valley—just for you.
If this moved something in you, go find the real sound—not in studios, but in stories. Because some music isn’t just heard. It’s felt.
🌿Next time you're in Uttarakhand, don’t just visit. Listen.