Ensconced in a rugged terrain, the Museum of Memories, founded by Muzammil Hussain and Tafazzul Hussain, is a grassroots initiative that chronicles Kargil's cultural heritage, personal stories and wartime histories through artefacts and oral narratives.
Outlook Traveller spoke with Muzammil, who emphasised that the museum isn’t just about preserving the past, it’s about reclaiming Kargil’s narrative through lived experiences and inspiring future generations to connect with their roots. He highlighted how each object in the museum tells a story of resilience, belonging, and memory, inviting visitors to see Kargil not as a former war zone, but as a vibrant, lived-in cultural landscape.
Your work with Unlock Hunderman – Museum of Memories is deeply rooted in storytelling and preservation. How did the idea of transforming an abandoned village into a living museum come to life?
For me, the story of Hundurman mirrors the story of Kargil—a region whose rich cultural and social identity is often overshadowed by the dominant narrative of war. Through this project, we aim to spotlight Kargil’s lesser-known heritage and inspire people to look beyond its history of conflict. The settlement of Hundurman, along with the museum’s collection, offers a powerful glimpse into the everyday lives, resilience, and stories of its people.
In a region like Kargil, which often finds itself defined by conflict narratives, how do you reframe the public imagination towards heritage, memory, and community life?
Reframing Kargil’s identity beyond conflict has been challenging but deeply rewarding. We focus on sharing stories of resilience, rich trade history, and vibrant cultural life through immersive local experiences and museums. By foregrounding memory and lived heritage, we invite visitors and locals alike to see Kargil not as a war zone, but as a thriving crossroads of cultures and communities. It’s a slow shift, but every conversation helps reclaim our narrative.
The artefacts curated at the Museum of Memories are very intimate—family photographs, household objects, war memorabilia. What has been the most powerful story or item you’ve come across while building the collection?
The artefacts displayed in the museum were discovered in the very rooms that now serve as galleries. These everyday objects—clothing, utensils, farming tools, jewellery, coins, and more—once belonged to the people who lived here. On their own, they may seem ordinary, even unremarkable. But when viewed together, in their original setting, they tell a powerful story about the human cost of war and its enduring impact on lives, communities, and cultures.
Roots Ladakh focuses heavily on sustainable travel and community-led initiatives. In your experience, what are the biggest misconceptions travellers have about Kargil and Zanskar?
One of the biggest misconceptions about Kargil is that it remains an active conflict zone due to the 1999 Indo-Pak war. This lingering image poses a significant challenge, making it difficult to convince people to see Kargil as a safe and enriching travel destination.
Tourism in fragile landscapes always walks a fine line between celebration and overexposure. How do you personally define “ethical travel” in Ladakh today?
Contrary to popular belief, Ladakh is not struggling with overtourism. In fact, we need more visitors to support the region’s expanding tourism infrastructure. The real challenge lies in how tourism is distributed—both seasonally and geographically. To make it more equitable and sustainable, we must encourage year-round travel and promote lesser-known destinations across all directions of Ladakh. For me, travelling ethically here means exploring off-the-beaten-path places and choosing to visit during the lean season.
You also work with the Munshi Aziz Bhat Museum. How different is the storytelling approach compared to what you’re doing at Hunderman?
The collection at the Munshi Aziz Bhat Museum is related to the Silk Route trade heritage of Kargil. It not only narrates the personal legacy of our family as Silk Route traders but also preserves the forgotten history of Kargil as a thriving cosmopolitan trade centre along the trans-Himalayan trade route. At Hundurman, our attempt is primarily to highlight the long-lasting human cost of war and conflict. This is done through stories of separation and displacement, lost culture, and lifestyle practices.
With the younger generation in Ladakh increasingly moving towards urban centres, how do you maintain or address local interest in heritage conservation?
Yes, the younger generation's shift towards urban centres does challenge heritage conservation. At Roots Ladakh, we are trying to address this by transforming heritage into opportunity. Through initiatives like rural experiences, heritage walks, community-run museums, nature guide training, tangible and intangible heritage documentation workshops, and publications, we engage local youth and help them rediscover pride in their roots. By linking heritage preservation with economic sustainability—especially through tourism and education—we foresee a model where staying connected to Ladakhi heritage is not only meaningful but also viable as a career path.
If you could invite travellers to experience one overlooked tradition, festival, or community practice in Kargil that you think deserves more attention, what would it be—and why?
Mamani Festival: Celebrated with great pomp across Kargil, the Mamani Festival marks the symbolic arrival of summer. Rooted in the traditions of the Dard community, who once followed the Bon religion, the festival begins with offerings of food and animal sacrifices to local spirits—an act of thanksgiving and a prayer for a bountiful harvest. Mamani is typically observed on January 21, a day believed to signal a rise in ground temperature despite the continued cold in the air.
The Bononah Festival: A three-day celebration held in the villages of Dah and Garkone, located in the lower Indus region of Ladakh. It is believed to be a continuation of the region's animistic past when the people followed Bonism, a form of nature worship. The festival begins with a ceremonial animal sacrifice, offered as a tribute to the spirits, inviting their presence to the festivities. Over the three days, locals gather each evening to recount the stories of their ancestors through song and dance. Eighteen traditional songs, passed down orally from one generation to the next, are performed throughout the festival, preserving the rich cultural heritage of the community.