In the high-altitude expanse of Ladakh’s Changthang plateau, where the sky meets the earth in whispers, the Changpa nomads weave their lives into the rhythm of the mountains. Their pashmina goats graze upon ancient paths, their footsteps a hymn to a legacy carved into stone and wind.

But the mountains carry new whispers now, of shifting seasons, of withering pastures, of a fragile bond tested by the weight of change. The once-steady heartbeat of the land stumbles under the strain of a world unraveling, as climate’s silent hand reshapes what was once sacred and sure.

While researching for my film project Ghost of the Mountains, I spent time with a Changpa family from Kharnak, witnessing the quiet resilience etched into their faces, the tender strength in their daily rituals, and their enduring love for a life lived on the edge of impermanence. Their warmth, their stories, and their connection to the land moved me deeply. Through this series, born out of my time with them, I hope to share a glimpse of a world unseen. 

For me, each frame is a prayer to the land, a question carried on the wind: How does one hold onto a way of life that slips like sand through fingers?

This project is more than photography, it is an act of preservation and reverence. These photos are my way of holding space for their story, their struggles, and their beauty.

Here, amidst the silence of the mountains, the Changpa teach us what it means to endure, to belong, and to listen to the land as it mourns and remembers.

And still, the earth hums their song, though the chorus falters…