Around 400 BC, the Garos left the Tibetan plateaus and migrated to India, eventually settling in the Garo Hills of Meghalaya, a state in the country’s northeast. This long migration across mountains and river valleys shaped not only where the Garos settled but also how they came to understand sound, rhythm, and community as inseparable parts of daily life. Music for the Garos (or A’chiks) is an expression of life, giving rhythm to their many traditions and celebrations. Amid the many sounds that may arise from the Garo Hills, one is the soft yet unmistakable resonance of Chigring, a simple zither carved from bamboo. It is not the loudest or the most celebrated instrument among the A’chiks, but probably the most faithful, a sound that has, across generations, reminded the community of who they are. A simple instrument, crafted from a single material, it mirrors the lives of those who play it – ordinary yet humble, rooted in traditions yet transcending generations. In a landscape where much of daily life still depends on the rhythms of the jhum fields and the changing seasons, an instrument made entirely from bamboo feels more like an extension of the land itself. To understand more about Chigring, one must first trace its place within Garo history, examine its construction, understand the techniques of its playing and remember musicians who have carried its sound to a greater extent.
THE HISTORY
Held as one of the earliest musical instruments created by the Garos, the Chigring, when paired with the powerful dama drum, is suitable for accompanying folk songs, harvest festivals and everyday entertainment. It was once the principal instrument used during the Wangala festival, the great post-harvest celebration of thanksgiving, until the dama gradually overpowered it and assumed the central role. Even so, elders in many villages still recall a time when the gentle voice of the Chigring set the tone for the earliest hours of Wangala celebrations. Chigring serves as an ideal instrument for a wide range of dances and songs because of its versatility and gentler sound. Beyond musical performances, it also features in vocal contests such as Ajea and Doroa, valued for its ability to adapt to the varied rhythms of Garo dance traditions. Its adaptability also made it a natural companion to storytelling sessions, where a single musician could shift the mood of a narrative simply by changing the tempo or intensity of the strokes. Through bands such as Notes of A’rongga and Ahowee, Chigring is finding a place in contemporary Garo music, its tones blending with guitars and modern percussion. In doing so, the younger generation is finding new ways to keep an endangered musical tradition alive and audible. What once travelled only as far as a village courtyard now reaches wider audiences through recordings, festivals, and social media, allowing the instrument’s history to be rediscovered by people.
THE ANATOMY
Chigring is a Garo instrument crafted entirely from a single bamboo tube, preferably from wa’da, wa’ke or teksra for acoustic quality. But why bamboo? Because its natural fibrous structure makes the instrument both strong and flexible, allowing thin strips to be lifted from its surface without breaking while retaining enough tension to vibrate and produce sound. Choosing the right bamboo is itself considered a craft passed down through generations, with experienced makers judging the maturity of a stalk by its colour, thickness, and even the sound it makes when tapped.
A skilled craftsman has to venture to the mountains in search of the perfect base material, cutting a segment measuring approx. 55 cm in length and 7.5 cm in diameter. The bamboo is cut in such a way that one entire section between two joints remains intact. The hollow cavity within the internode naturally serves as the instrument’s resonating chamber. There is a rectangular hole measuring approx. 1 x 1.5 cm, partially covered with a thin membrane at the centre of the tube. Three 45 cm parallel strips of the bamboo’s outer cortex are carefully cut and raised, forming six idiochord strings. This delicate process demands patience and a steady hand, since a single miscalculated cut can split the strip entirely and make the bamboo segment unusable. Strings are secured at both ends of the bamboo body by cord wrappings, and bridges are inserted to raise the strings for the purpose of adjusting the pitch. Chigring is classified among the chordophones or, more precisely, as a struck idiochord tube-zither, meaning its strings are not separate cords added to a frame but are quite literally part of the instrument’s own body. After the process, what emerges is an example of the resourcefulness of the tribals and a glimpse into their cultural life. No two Chigrings are ever entirely identical, since the natural variation in each bamboo stalk lends every instrument a slightly different sound.
THE PERFORMANCE
Chigring is played seated, the instrumentalist holding the instrument at an incline braced between the knees, with the body resting against the chest, shoulder, or neck. This posture helps in anchoring the device while playing it with the hands. The player uses two thin bamboo sticks, each about 22 centimetres long, one stick per hand, to strike the strings lightly and rhythmically. When struck, each string sets the air trapped inside the bamboo chamber into vibration. The sound escapes through the small opening, giving the Chigring its bright, resonant, yet fleeting tone. A damping effect can be achieved by pressing down the strings with the left hand and striking them with the bamboo stick in the right hand. This combination of striking and damping produces Chigring’s ornamentation, an effect comparable to a violinist’s vibrato or a guitarist’s palm-mute. Watching an experienced player, one notices how the hands move almost independently of one another, the left constantly adjusting pressure while the right maintains a steady rhythmic pulse, producing a texture far richer than the instrument’s simple construction might suggest.
Raphael Ch. Marak is identified as a maestro of the Chigring. He is a septuagenarian folk artist from the Garo community in Meghalaya, India, who is not only a master player but also a skilled craftsman of the instrument. He is actively working to preserve the cultural heritage of the Garo people through this instrument. He has also produced CDs of folk songs and has had his work appreciated by enthusiasts from around the world. Musicians like him often double as teachers, patiently guiding younger players through techniques that cannot easily be written down.
THE SIGNIFICANCE
The Garos divide their musical instruments into those used for entertainment and those reserved for religious and ritual occasions. The dama, a long double-headed drum, for instance, is played only during sacred ceremonies; similar restrictions apply to the nagra and rang. The Chigring, however, is more versatile. Played by both men and women, it accompanies both religious ceremonies and entertainment dances. For boys, it traditionally serves as a practice instrument before they graduate to playing the dama at formal ceremonies, making it an early and essential step in a young musician’s education within the community. At Mangona, a two-day post-burial ceremony, a small bamboo hut called a delang is constructed in the family courtyard. During nighttime rituals for the deceased, underneath the ringing brass cymbals, the mournful voice of the kimjim and mangtata chants, the Chigring adds a soft murmur that quietly holds the ritual together. However, Chigring’s life is not limited to funerals or formal rituals. Imagine an ordinary evening in an old Garo village, the day’s work in the jhum fields is done, smoke rises gently from the rooftops, and someone sits on a veranda, drawing a string across a bamboo tube. Slowly, neighbours gather around. There is no stage or ceremony, just the soft sound of bamboo filling the evening as children drift to sleep. This is perhaps where the Chigring belongs most, a place where music becomes a part of everyday life and memory.
Today, the Chigring’s future is part of a larger effort to revive Garo culture. As younger generations are increasingly drawn to digital media and mainstream music, artisans and folk musicians are finding new ways to keep the instrument alive, not just as a memory of the past, but as a sound that continues to be played and heard. Cultural workshops, school programmes, and local festivals have all become spaces where individuals can learn about the built and play of Chigring.
THE VERSIONS
The Chigring is part of a much larger musical tradition in which bamboo itself becomes the instrument. Across Northeast India and parts of Asia, communities have developed their own variations of the bamboo tube zither, often adapted its shape and played technique to suit local traditions. In Assam, instruments such as the gintang, dhup talow, and jeng toka follow a construction similar to the Chigring, with strings formed from the bamboo’s own outer layer. The Mizo tutum dar and khasi singphong similarly transform a hollow bamboo tube into a simple percussive instrument, while instruments such as the yalambar explore a more melodic approach. What makes these instruments particularly fascinating is that their construction relies on very little beyond bamboo and the musician’s technique. Changes in how the tube is held, struck, or pressed against the body can alter the resonance and character of the sound. In this sense, the Chigring is not an isolated bamboo zither but one expression of a broader understanding of bamboo instruments. This idea extends far beyond Northeast India. Bamboo zithers such as Madagascar’s valiha, Indonesia’s sasando, and the Philippines’ kolitong demonstrate how distant communities arrived at related musical solutions using the same remarkably versatile plant. Their differences are as significant as their similarities, reflecting the cultures that shaped them. Seen together, these instruments form a quiet, unspoken conversation across continents, each community independently discovering that a single length of bamboo could carry both rhythm and melody.
THE SOUND OF GAROS
The story of Chigring reaches far beyond its bamboo frame and continues to captivate listeners to this day. Born from the landscape of the Garo Hills, it reflects the transformation of natural materials into something deeply expressive. Its music has accompanied moments of celebration and mourning, quietly becoming part of the cultural memory of the A’chik people. Over time, its role may have changed, but the Chigring has never entirely disappeared. Today, as artisans continue to craft it and young musicians bring its distinctive sound into contemporary music, its survival is therefore not simply about preserving an old musical object; it is about keeping alive the knowledge, stories, and traditions.
Perhaps that is what makes the Chigring remarkable. From a hollow piece of bamboo comes a voice, one that has travelled across generations and continues to remind the Garo people that even the simplest things can carry the weight of a culture. And so long as there remains a veranda, an evening, and someone willing to sit and draw a stick across its strings, the Chigring’s voice will keep finding its way into the world.
By: Skanda Rawte
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