A joyous outpouring of dance and music welcomes Wangala, the festival marking the celebration of life's abundance and bounty in the fertile valleys and hills at the eastern extremities of the Himalayas in India's North East. For here, Saljong, the Sun deity, holds a special place in the hearts of the Garo, inhabitants of the lush green state with its mist-kissed hills and ever-present clouds, aptly named Meghalaya.

Bestowed with the finest offerings of nature, this landscape of pristine streams, cool waterfalls and dense green foliage yields rich harvests, painting Meghalaya in a palette of colour made richer and more vivid by collaboration with the monsoon rains, which persist for five months of the year. making this one of the wettest places on earth.

As the rains abate, the green shades of the Garo hills ripen, turning into hues of rich gold, waving in the gentle breeze bathed by an autumnal October sun as if in anticipation of the harvest.

And so, before the onset of winter, the gentle Garo, the Achik Mende as they call themselves, people of the hills, prepare for Wangala festivities dedicated to Saljong, the primal source of energy, and bestower of nature's bounties, warmth and prosperity, the giver of life. For only one as grand as the sun who ensures that the rice fields brim with bounty and fullness could be acknowledged in colours as vivid and vibrant as himself and praised with rhythm and music of his own creation. As if to show synchronicity with nature, the Garo adorn themselves in colourful garments called Dakmanda, Daksari, or Gando and feathered do'me headgear to mark the festivities. The dancing, in which men and women participate together, is accompanied by the rhythmic beat of Dama, long, oval-shaped drums and singing Katta Doka in a traditional talking style, not unlike modern rap music.

The sun spreads its affection in a humid though unoppressive atmosphere. Ginger shoots sprout in warm earth, sheltering under the foliage of acres of millet, their tall stalks dancing and swaying to a melodious breeze, draped from the gentle sunlight above. Close by, chillies splutter into mischievous giggles, aglow with the borrowed lustre of the sun as they fatten the heat in their fiery buds. All around, the rice crop stands in crisp delight, waiting to nourish the Garo just as it has done for countless generations since they journeyed from their Tibetan roots and fate brought them to Meghalaya into the cradle of the Seven Sisters.

Wangala descends upon and engulfs the atmosphere of the hills. Here the past whispers its secrets and entwines with the present through songs that regale pride and togetherness of the clans from the different villages as they descend on the ceremonial grounds to be soaked in the anthemic tribute of Dim Dim Dimchong Dadichong to offer respects to Saljong. Through performance, the Garo relive their histories, traditions, and culture; a sense of occasion merges with its place and surroundings as they sing, holding hands in a display of oneness, well-being, and togetherness.

As the evening sun descends behind the Garo Hills,casting its last glow of amber on village dwellings of bamboo and banana leaves, smoke from cooking fires fills the cool evening air as if rushing to tell its own festive story.

Within the warm interiors of the bamboo wellings, working in the dim light of the kitchen fire, women are engrossed in preparations, their feminine gentleness caressing various ingredients with every touch.Rice, so central to Garo culture and as offering to Saljong, marks its presence felt as huge quantities of it are cooked in large, bold, black earthen cooking vessels for the festival.Its sweet, hunger - inducing fragrance spreads a comforting homeliness that melts and mixes with the subtle aroma of plentiful rice beer fermenting close by.

Garo women take charge of all preparations, even carrying the bulky vessels around by themselves in readiness to honour Saljon.

This is just one aspect of their role, for Garo society is matrilineal, where inheritance goes to daughters, women choose and propose to a prospective partner, and the man moves into the woman's home upon marriage. In Garo society, individuals also take their clan title from the mother, who is bearer of both family property and prosperity. Males, too, have a role: sons leave home at puberty to be trained for life in the clan at a Nokpante, a dormitory for bachelors. As they mature into adulthood and assume family responsibilities upon marriage, they take on cultivation, property, and domestic affairs, thus giving the womenfolk a ring of security.

The first day of Wangala begins in the home of the Nokma, or the village chief. Here, the ceremonies involve Rugala, the ritual pouring of rice beer and the scattering of handfuls of rice in all directions to symbolise the rains that bring the plentiful harvest and Sasat Soa, the lighting of incense, to signify the clouds as the source of the rains. These formalities over, the guests gather for the festivities of music and dancing.

Though many Garo were converted to Christianity during colonial times, they traditionally followed ancestral and Hindu practices that included belief in reincarnation and karma. In the past, their ceremonies and festivals also included sacrifice and rituals to recall, honour and offer respectful memorial for clan elders and spirits of ancestors.

The honour and homage to Saljong in bedecked festival grounds of Wangala reveal a strongly felt connect to deep cultural roots and an amazing social partnership within the Garo clans. Men and women perform the celebratory dancing together, celebrating nature's bounty through song, retelling stories of their clans, and, with the women dressed in traditional attire, which has a special place for the colour white, projects the gentleness of Garo life.

Colour and rhythm are at the core of Wangala festivities, for which the Garo men offer a ceremonial tribute of 100 drums to Saljong, the bestower of fertility and rich harvest. Accompanied by flute. gong, and vocals, the rhythm sets the rhyme for footsteps as the dancing men and women, clad in festival finery of headgear, ornaments, and colourful garments with gorgeous local weaves, work up a joyous climactic fervour. It is as if the beat of drum skins fuses drumbeaters and dancers, men and women becoming one with drum and drumbeat.

Smiles, laughter, sweat, and movement blend into a vigorous geometry of dust and colour, to be momentarily divided into an indigenous avatar of tug-of-war. Here, the women pull the rope with the all the combined strengths of their femininity, ankles firmly digging into the ground and arms and shoulders working to the pelt to pull firm for victory. Opposite, the men, of lean and muscular bodies weather-hardened and solar-powered by Saljong and toned by toil in the fields, glisten against the sunshine as they pull the other way.

Wangala is a time for celebration, to leave worries behind and offer gratitude to mother nature for prosperity, continuity, and honouring the circle of life. The feasting continues into the night, fuelled by cooked rice, various delicacies, and vegetables, accompanied by great quantities of specially brewed rice beer.

While the rhythm of the drums continues, lined up under specially erected ceremonial thatches, the Garo men carefully serve the rice offerings and delicacies on plantain leaves to their guests. For a moment, the village itself, its spread of lush green foliage marking Garo life and prosperity thriving in the lap of Nature under the watchful eye of Saljong, is just like the rice offerings resting on plantain leaves, ready to nourish the clan for another year before the next Wangala.