Long ago, in the rugged mountains of Gilgit-Baltistan, there ruled a powerful Sheen king named Shari Badat. He was no ordinary king — his presence commanded fear, and his word was law. The people dared not disobey him, no matter how unreasonable his demands were.
Every day, Shari Badat’s subjects were required to bring him a lamb for his meal. It didn’t matter how rich or poor a family was; everyone had to take their turn. The people followed this rule without question — after all, their king’s wrath was far more terrifying than any hardship they faced.
A Mother's Sacrifice
In a small village, there lived a poor woman who had only one sheep. That sheep was her only source of hope. One day, the sheep gave birth to a fragile lamb, but tragedy followed — the mother sheep died soon after. With no way to feed the newborn, the woman did something extraordinary — she nursed the lamb herself, feeding it with her own milk.
Time passed, and the lamb grew strong under her care. But soon, the dreaded day arrived — it was her turn to offer a lamb for the king’s meal. With a heavy heart, she carried the lamb — the one she had nurtured like her own child — to Shari Badat’s palace.
That evening, the lamb was slaughtered, cooked, and served to the king. As Shari Badat took his first bite, he paused. This meal was different — richer, more flavorful — unlike anything he had tasted before. Curious, he summoned his servants.
“Who brought me this lamb?” he demanded.
The servants explained that it had been raised by a poor woman who fed it with her own milk. Intrigued, the king ordered the woman to appear before him.
When she arrived, Shari Badat asked, “Why was the lamb’s meat so much tastier than anything I’ve eaten before?”
The woman humbly explained how she had fed the lamb with her own milk.
Shari Badat smiled, but not with kindness. Instead, a twisted thought crept into his mind — If a lamb raised on human milk could taste this good... how delicious would human flesh be?
That night, the king made a new and horrifying decree — from that day forward, he no longer wanted lamb for his meal. Instead, he demanded a human baby each day.
The Reign of Terror
Fear gripped the people of Gilgit. Families mourned the loss of their children, yet they dared not defy their king. His soldiers ensured that every day, a newborn was taken to the palace — and each day, Shari Badat feasted on human flesh.
Desperate and terrified, the people turned to the king’s daughter, Princess Miyo Khai.
“We cannot survive this cruelty,” they begged. “You must help us!”
Miyo Khai knew her father’s dark nature, but she also knew that defeating him wouldn’t be easy. Shari Badat wasn’t an ordinary man — his life was bound to powerful magic.
With her husband, Azur Jamshed, Miyo devised a plan. First, she needed to uncover her father’s greatest weakness.
A Deadly Secret
Miyo Khai carefully tricked her father into revealing the truth. During a quiet evening at the palace, Shari Badat let his guard down and shared his secret — his life force was connected to butter (Gew). If the butter in the palace was melted completely, his heart would burn, and he would be vulnerable.
That night, Miyo and her husband gathered the people in secret. They melted all the butter in the palace over a great fire. Meanwhile, they dug a deep pit outside the palace gates and covered it with dry grass.
As the butter melted, the heat began to burn deep within Shari Badat’s chest. Gasping for air, he staggered outside in search of relief. But as soon as he stepped onto the dry grass, the ground beneath him gave way, and he plunged into the pit.
Without hesitation, the villagers hurled burning alpine sticks into the pit, engulfing him in flames. His agonizing screams echoed through the mountains before fading into silence.
The people of Gilgit believed they had finally rid themselves of the cannibal king.
The Final Curse
But Shari Badat’s evil didn’t die so easily.
Legend says he later appeared in Hanzel, a region between Gilgit and Punyal. One day, a farmer worked in his field while his wife brought him his meal. On her way, she encountered Shari Badat.
“Give me a drink of water,” he demanded.
But the woman had no water, only a jug of wine. She handed it to him, and Shari Badat drank deeply.
“If you had offered me water,” he warned, “I would have blessed your descendants with a hundred sons. But since you gave me wine, your family shall never have more than seven sons.”
With those words, he vanished into the wind.
Some say Shari Badat still sleeps deep within the glaciers of Ishkoman, waiting for the day he will return to take his revenge on the people of Gilgit-Baltistan.
The Tradition of Noce (Nasalo)
To this day, the people of Gilgit-Baltistan remember the fall of Shari Badat. Every year on December 21st, they celebrate Noce or Nasalo, where they fire torches for Talano, a ritual the reminds them thee buring of the cruel king, a day that marks the triumph of courage over cruelty — and the end of the cannibal king’s reign.
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