One Root, Many Branches: A Thoughtful Reflection on Lepcha Identity and Changing Times

The Lepcha Flag

There’s a quiet question that’s been sitting in the corner of my mind for a long time—one I’ve often hesitated to speak aloud. But sometimes, silence allows confusion to deepen, and I believe certain questions need gentle light, not judgment. So today, I want to explore a thought—not as a critic, but as someone who cares deeply for the Lepcha community. Once a Kingdom, Now a Memory

Our history is older than what many remember. There was a time when the land we now call Sikkim was ruled by Lepcha kings. Before the Chogyal regime took over in the 16th century, Lepchas were not just the children of the land—we were the custodians of it. But after the shift in power, something quietly began to change.

Under the Chogyal rule, many Lepchas—especially those without formal education or access to privilege—found themselves sidelined. Meanwhile, the few educated or politically aware Lepchas got closer to the seat of power. With that closeness came a choice: hold on to traditional Lepcha titles or blend in.

What’s in a Name?

I’ve noticed how, over the years, some Lepcha titles have quietly transformed. Barfungmu became Barfungpa, Khangsarmu shifted to Khangsarpa, and so on. These changes may seem small on paper, but they carry a larger story: perhaps of wanting to adapt, of not wanting to be seen as different, or maybe of not wanting to be reminded of what was once marginalized.

Then came another wave of change—with the arrival of Christian missionaries around the 1960s. As conversions happened across communities, including among Lepchas, something curious unfolded again. Lepcha titles started getting trimmed or altered. Namchyomu became Namchu, Karthakmu changed to Karthak, Sadamu to Sada, Torgainmu to Targain, and so on.

Now, let me be clear—I’m not against any faith. In fact, the Lepcha community has always had a space for spiritual diversity. Whether Buddhist or Christian, our beliefs can coexist. But my concern is deeper than religion. It’s about identity.

Are We Moving Away From Our Roots?

Let’s pause for a moment and ask ourselves: why are we gradually dropping or altering traditional Lepcha titles? Is it just to make things easier? Is it about being influenced by Western culture? Or is it something else—like an unconscious discomfort with being seen as Lepcha?

If this change is truly by choice and comfort, there’s nothing wrong with it. But if it stems from a sense of embarrassment or a need to erase part of who we are, then maybe we need to stop and reflect. We can't afford to forget the root that connects all the branches.

One Community, Many Faiths

Faith can be different. Languages may vary. But when we lose our original titles, our identity slowly fades into the background. And it’s not just about names—it’s about preserving the pride, stories, and cultural wealth that lie behind those names.

Instead of pointing fingers, let’s have open conversations. Let’s educate our younger generation about the beauty of being a Lepcha, regardless of religion. Let’s encourage them to feel proud of their ancestral titles—not out of ego, but out of deep respect and love for our lineage.

Coming Back Home

This post isn’t meant to divide. It’s meant to remind. In a world that often pushes us to fit into neat boxes, we must remember where we come from. Because when we lose our names, we risk losing our stories.

Dear reader, if you're a fellow Lepcha—regardless of your faith, background, or where you live today—remember this: our strength lies in our shared root. We may branch out in different directions, but our root remains the same. Let’s water it with awareness, pride, and unity.