Hornbill, Hills and Hard Truths from Nagaland
Known as the festival of festivals, Nagaland’s most beloved celebration takes its name from the hornbill bird, a creature the Naga people deeply respect and relate to. The hornbill stands for strength, longevity, fertility, and is seen as a spiritual messenger. It is also admired for its rare loyalty—the female hornbill seals herself inside a tree hollow during nesting, placing complete trust in the male to care for her. To the Nagas, this devotion feels familiar. Like the hornbill, they value honesty, hard work, discipline, and loyalty. Shaped by a history of warrior traditions, they are resilient and courageous, yet guided by deep moral codes and a strong sense of community. The hornbill is also known as a friend of farmers, nurturing the land just as the people nurture their roots. This quiet bond between bird, land, and people is what truly gives the Hornbill Festival its soul.
The idea of attending the Hornbill Festival of Nagaland had been gently floating between me and a friend since July. It wasn’t a fixed plan more a thought we kept returning to, nudged by photographs, social-media snippets, and an inner curiosity about a part of India that remains largely unexplored for many of us.
Like most Indians, we had to admit our limited understanding of Nagaland’s geography and culture. I had visited Assam twice and briefly touched Meghalaya and Arunachal Pradesh, a few hurried days attempting to absorb three states at once. That journey itself was eye-opening. It made me realise how deeply neglected the Seven Sister states are, not only in infrastructure but in our collective national consciousness.
Assam and Meghalaya still share certain cultural similarities, but beyond that, the North East feels like an entirely different universe rich, layered, and often misunderstood.
The North East Finds Its Moment
Over the past few years, the North East has slowly but surely entered the tourism spotlight. Today, almost every second tour operator offers North East packages. Roads are being widened, airports upgraded, homestays emerging infrastructure is moving at full speed to accommodate this growing interest.
Nagaland, too, is stepping into this space with quiet confidence. Much of this renewed visibility can be attributed to the state’s Tourism Minister, Mr. Temjen Imna Along, whose dynamic leadership and communication have brought clarity and direction.
Though the Hornbill Festival began in 2000, it is only in recent years that it has truly gathered momentum thanks to social media awareness and a conscious effort to bring Nagaland into mainstream tourism narratives.
Kisama Heritage Village: Where Culture Comes Alive. We Our biggest surprise awaited us at Kisama Heritage Village, located about 15 km from Kohima, the capital of Nagaland. The venue doesn’t boast a grand, formal title it’s simply referred to as the Kisama Heritage Village Stadium. Yet, what unfolds here is nothing short of extraordinary.
The mid-sized stadium was overflowing with Nagas from across the state, members of all 17 tribes, Sub tribes, foreigners, scholars, and travellers. This was not a performance staged solely for tourists. This was a celebration of identity, and we were privileged witnesses. It's called festival of festivals.
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| Nagaland is home of 17 major tribes along with several sub tribes, each distinguished by its own language ,custom ,attire, festivals and tradition. |
A Last-Minute Decision That Made All the Difference:
Finding accommodation during the Hornbill Festival is no easy task. Every hotel we searched for was fully booked. That’s when we decided to rely on a local tour operator ChaloHoppo. In hindsight, it was one of the wisest decisions we made.
Our stay was arranged in Jhakhama village, in a charming stone cottage, comfortable, warm, and surrounded by nature. More importantly, it allowed us to experience Nagaland beyond the festival grounds, in its everyday authenticity.
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| A feast of colors, Showing exquisite craftmanship through beautiful shawls |
A Riot of Colours and Living Traditions
The first day at the festival ground was filled with uncontainable excitement.
All 17 major tribes and their sub-tribes appeared in their finest traditional ensembles elaborate headgear, handwoven shawls, ornaments, weapons, symbols of pride passed down generations.
It was a riot of colours.
Truly, seeing is believing.
Each performance was more than dance or music, it was a window into a way of life. The presentations reflected their culture, lifestyle, values, and philosophy.
Among the 17 tribes, some are hardcore warriors, some warrior but traders too, some peace-loving and docile some were headhunters.
One of the tribes we learned about was the Konyak tribe, historically known for the practice of headhunting. In earlier times, warriors would take the heads of their enemies and display them at the main entrance of the village as symbols of bravery and conquest. This legacy was also reflected in their ornaments, necklaces bearing head-shaped pendants, where each pendant represented an enemy slain. For instance, a warrior who had taken four heads was entitled to wear a necklace with four such symbols.
Initially, both of us were tempted to buy a similar necklace as a souvenir. But the moment we understood the deep and violent history behind its symbolism, the desire vanished. Some stories, we realised, are meant to be understood and respected, not worn.
Of course the tradition is no longer there. Each with its own language, customs, and rituals. Ironically, many tribes do not fully understand each other’s languages.
What unites them today is history.
Christianity and the Transformation of Naga Society
Nearly 175 years ago, Christianity entered Nagaland, bringing with it education, structure, and social transformation. Our guide and tour leader, Vikho, shared stories that added depth to everything we saw.
One of the most remarkable insights I gained from Vikho was about the social fabric of Naga society. Each tribe follows its own distinct rules, regulations, customs, and rituals, yet when it comes to marriage, their approach is strikingly simple and progressive. Men and women are free to marry whomever they choose—within their own clan, across different Naga clans or tribes, or even outside the Naga community.
When a woman from another clan marries into a different clan, there is just one expectation: that she respects the tribe and its customs. Nothing more. No coercion, no rigid conditions, no hierarchy.
This understanding left a deep impression on me. We often pride ourselves on being a civilised and modern society—but insights like these quietly challenge us to ask, are we truly as progressive as we believe?
There was a time when Naga tribes lived as autonomous Adivasi communities, deeply connected to land and tradition. Missionaries introduced schooling and basic public health practices something as fundamental as cleanliness.
And this is where many Indian tourists experience the shock of their lives.
Not a speck of filth anywhere.
Villages, streets, public spaces, homes immaculately clean.
It is both inspiring and humbling.
An Uncomfortable National Truth
Despite being an inseparable part of India, even after 75 years of Independence, the North East continues to feel emotionally distant from the mainland. There is no separate time zone, limited policy sensitivity, and a lingering sense of neglect.
Many Nagas still feel misunderstood or unwelcome within their own country.
And this is where the mirror turns towards us Indians our ignorance, our assumptions, and our selective curiosity.
Leaving Nagaland Changed
As we prepared to leave, what stayed with us wasn’t just the spectacle of the Hornbill Festival or the pulsating drums of Kisama—it was the quiet dignity and warmth of its people. Our guide, Vikho, embodied this spirit completely. Sensitive, deeply respectful, and immensely caring, he looked after each one of us with genuine concern, ensuring we felt safe, comfortable, and included. He didn’t merely guide us through places he guided us through perspectives.
We arrived in Nagaland as tourists chasing a festival.
We returned carrying questions, humility, and responsibility.
To listen better.
To unlearn old assumptions.
And to acknowledge that India’s soul is far larger, deeper, and richer than what most of us have been taught to see.
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