Some interesting stories I came across during documentation of Tharu Indigenous folklore
Originally published on Global Voices
A Tharu woman from Kailali District of Western Nepal with tattoos on her legs. Photo by Indu Tharu, used with permission.
This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “Indigenous Rights.” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here.
As a child, I used to sit with my grandmother near a borais (a small earthen pot used to make fire) during the harsh winter days. I would listen to her stories of benevolent and malevolent characters – djinns, spirits, ghosts, witches and wizards, trees, birds and animals that had special significance in the Tharu culture and tradition. She used to sing folk songs and then explain their meaning.
I never thought of documenting the Indigenous Tharu folklore until she left this world. Now that she is no more with us, I yearn for those priceless words of wisdom. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to join hands with Amrit Sufi and Subhasish Panigrahi, who have not only been documenting oral culture in India but have also inspired and helped many culture and tradition lovers document their own cultures.
Documenting Indigenous folklore is time-consuming work. One needs to spend time with the communities before they are comfortable enough to open up and share their folktales, songs, phrases and idioms, not to mention their personal experiences.
While documenting Tharu oral culture in eastern Nepal, I came across many interesting facts that would reveal untold facets of Indigenous stories if researched further.
Morangsair: A song of seasonal migration
When I recorded a folk song called “Morangsair” or “Morangesari,” which is still sung in the eastern part of Nepal’s southern plains, I learned about the seasonal migration of young men from the Saptari District, in the easternmost part of Madhesh Province to Morang District of Koshi Province in eastern Nepal where it was more fertile and provided work for men wanting to earn some extra money.
Sunsari District, named after the Sursair River (nowadays called “Sunsari River”), was part of the Morang District before 1962. Now, we have to cross two rivers, the Koshi River and Sunsari River, to get to Sunsari (earlier Morang) from Saptari. The journey used to be much more difficult in those times, before bridges were built.
The folk song is the lament of a young woman who is pleading with her husband not to go to Morang. She talks about the dense forest, the hot climate and the Sursair River, which he would need to cross to get to Morang. However, the song doesn’t mention Koshi River, which is the biggest river in Nepal and lies ahead of Sunsari River on the way to Morang.
In the video below, Chandrakala Chaudhary from Itahari, Sunsari District, sings “Morangsair,” also called “Morangesari”:
Researching further, I learned that the current Koshi River had been flowing many kilometres east of where it is now. In the Indian part, the river has shifted almost 100 kilometres west. Also, the Ganges River is called “Sursuri” or “Sursari” in the Guru Granth Sahib, a sacred Hindu scripture. The Sursair and Koshi Rivers eventually terminate in the Ganges.
Biyahi: When a river is named after a married woman
Talking with a Tharu elder, Mahabir Chaudhary, in Nepal’s Saptari District, I came across an interesting fact: a river and its tributary have been named after the Tharu words for a married woman.
The river has been renamed “Behai” by the Nepali-speaking administrators. However, according to Tharu elders, the river’s original name is “Biyahi,” meaning the “first wife” in Kochila Tharu or Eastern Tharu language. A tributary called “Samdahi” feeds the river. Samdahi is the word for “second wife” in Eastern Tharu. The Samdahi River and Biyahi River, after the confluence, continue flowing as Biyahi River.
Sabudana ke gachhi: The tattoo motif that tells story of sago pearls
Kashia Chaudhary from Nepal's Sunsari District with a sago palm and marigold tattoos on her lower arms. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary, used with permission.
These days, sabudana or sago found in the markets is made mainly from cassava root starch. However, traditionally sago pearls were also made from the pith of sago palms. I came to find out about this process of making sago pearls during an interview with elderly Eastern Tharu-speaking women. One of them showed a tattoo that looked like a palm tree and said that it was sabudana ke gachhi. “Gachhi” is a Tharu word for a tree. She also told me that sabudana used to be made from a palm tree.
I then researched further and found that in the past they used to cut down the palm trees, scrape the starchy core from the trunk and process it further to make sago pearls. The tradition is still prevalent in some southeastern countries.
There are many more stories I have heard while documenting Tharu oral culture that need to be told to a wider audience.
But I still yearn to recall the stories told to me by my grandmother while sitting together by the fireside on chilly winter days.