Nature’s Fury

Ever since my husband retired, we have been spending five to six months of the summer in Mashobra, a small hamlet in Himachal Pradesh. Away from the clamor and effluence of the city, it is a tranquil haven of sorts.

The journey from Delhi to Shimla takes anywhere between 10 to 12 hours depending on traffic and the number of stops you want to make. Over the years, we have discovered great locations to take coffee breaks, the best spots to pick up the finest pickles, the special tea/pakora corner, the site for the choicest tandoori paranthas and most importantly, the ideal places to use the restroom. Believe me, it’s a great comfort to go to these familiar places and be greeted cheerfully by people who feel like comrades now.

Before we acquired this delightful summer abode in the hills, we would plan a getaway every summer. Whether it was a vacation abroad or within the country, the few days before travel were a nightmare. From thrashing your itinerary with the travel agent, ticketing, insurance, standing in queues for visas, acquiring foreign exchange, packing and a hundred other things in the peak of summer was simply grueling. The fear of missing flights, planning too much, planning too little, disliking the hotel, getting sick, bad weather, and hidden costs left one exhausted, irritable, and apprehensive. After all the scramble, one could get away maximum for a month only to return and endure the rest of the protracted summer. Moreover, a short holiday leaves one dog tired, as you aim to pack in as much as possible. When you get back, you need time off as you feel deadbeat instead of being re-energized.

Coming to the hills, on the other hand, is a euphoric experience. The journey itself is enriching. Leaving early in the morning, we stop at our designated places for a tea break, breakfast, and coffee and collect our pickles. Once the mountains start, we switch off the AC, put down the windowpanes, inhale the cool air, and let it run through our hair. The winding narrow roads have their charm. Ascending at a relaxed pace, we admire the beauty of our surroundings. The road is lined with deodar, pine, and rhododendrons trees. The primeval hills are covered with wild daisies and beautiful ferns, giving them a mystical appearance. Some tree trunks are entwined by creepers with bright red flowers. Nature rustles up these breathtaking marvels.

Speaking to people who have been coming here for years and are residing in these areas, I was quite surprised about their reaction to the so-called “progress” in terms of the state’s offerings to tourists – sophisticated highways as well as increasing hotels and housing developments in the region.

“I miss the old narrow winding road from Kalka to Shimla. Call me old-fashioned, but that road made me feel safer than ever, and the nostalgia attached to it was unmeasurable. The conifers hugged the road. That’s how close they were, and the journey replicated one out of a fairytale. Traffic was scarce and one reached Shimla leisurely, which is the precursor to a holiday. Now, with the new highway, one feels like riding a perilous roller coaster that could cut our life’s journey by way of landslides and rock falls. Trees have vanished from our approach and the huge rocky mountains stare at us like monsters waiting to gobble us up. The toll plazas only add to the chaos, and during the season it is torture to line up and inhale the diesel fumes of trucks and buses. This is perhaps the price one pays for developmental work, which is only harming our environment and causing untold misery and pain to humanity,” said Geetanjali Bajaj, who has been coming to Shimla for years now.

After the initial unpacking and settling down, which doesn’t take more than a day, we are ready to absorb the magnificence of our ambiance. If you sit by the window and look out, the panorama changes every few minutes. We have witnessed double rainbows, multifarious colors in the sky, and clouds floating by as if kissing you leaving a moist impression on your face. The misty mountains during the monsoon season transport you into a wonderland of serenity.

Regrettably, we have also seen the transformation of this peaceful small town in just a couple of years. Its tiny stores are equipped with the rarest of grocery items. Earlier, items such as tomato juice, tonic water, olives, mustard oil, olive oil, and marmalade were unheard of. Surprisingly, we didn’t miss all this much when they were not available. We used our stocks of fancy groceries judiciously and handed over the list of things we required to whoever was coming from a big town. If one didn’t have something, one improvised.

Now, little storerooms have all this and more. The owners are visibly more prosperous. Affluence brings on object d’art which are cars, television sets, computers, Wi-Fi, and mobile phones. Now the archaic countryside is dotted with ghastly WiFi/mobile towers and TV dish antennas. Picturesque trekking trails are swarming with parked and moving vehicles. There have been landslides, and trees have been uprooted on these charming tracks. Believe me, when you see a 100-150 foot pine tree with a trunk 6 feet in diameter lying across the road with most of it jutting into the valley, it appears like a huge lifeless dinosaur crying out for justice.

People have displaced animals like monkeys and leopards from their natural habitat. As a result, there is a huge monkey menace in the area. The monkeys destroy the fruit trees and all possible vegetation. They require food to nourish themselves and devour what is available to them. Since we have invaded their territory, we must pay a price. There are numerous incidents where people have been mauled and bitten by these angry primates. Domestic dogs have disappeared, and are believed to have been picked up by leopards.

The unsolicited hotels and incongruous growth of housing complexes are another matter of woe. Not only do they spoil the natural topography of the expanse but to support the demand of the holidaymakers, there is an unsightly network of wires, dish antennas, water tanks and concrete jungles instead of the beautiful flora that used to prevail. Waste disposal becomes another nuisance. It is disgusting to encounter garbage dispersed down the hillside while on a walk down the pristine walking pathway.

In the mountains, one expends water prudently. Water treatment plants are built to support a certain number of inhabitants. But with the surge in tourism, most of the water is grabbed by the big sharks, leaving the locals devoid of the minimum quantity for sustenance. The substructure is not ready to take on this stream of traffic, resulting in unnecessary inconveniences for commuters and locals alike.

This year the fury of the rains and the devastation that has taken place in Himachal Pradesh has been making headlines everywhere. Rain lashes the hills every year with vengeance during the monsoons. However, they withstand it proudly holding themselves with dignity. Shimla has received this kind of rain in the past. What is so bad about this rainfall that everything is falling like a house of cards? Mountains are coming down as if made of mud. Bridges are getting washed away, roads are caving in. Houses, places of worship, and unauthorized constructions have been gutted, leaving hundreds of people homeless and dead. An enormous amount of money that was used up to make these four-lane highways has now been reduced to less than a precarious single lane. The express highways, as they were referred to, were saving just about an hour of road travel. Was it worthwhile to blast the mountains and shake their very foundation, cut thousands of trees resulting in deforestation, and have unplanned construction that fell like nine pins at the first sign of threat ensuing in the loss of thousands of lives? It is a colossal waste of human lives, money, and effort. Plundering nature for your benefit has misfired miserably.

Some years ago, we had visited the Canadian Rockies. There were small settlements like the Banff National Park and Jasper. They are the cutest little places I have seen. Everything was perfect as if in a picture book. It was amazing to learn that the population in these towns consisted of just about 6,000 to 7,000 people. Despite 200 cm of snow in winter, the place is very well administered. People follow regulations, and strict action is taken against offenders. Why can we not have the same pride for our towns and enforce rigorous penalties for the perpetrators?

What right do we have to cut thousands of trees, explode the mountains, build without paying heed to any safety norms, and use substandard material to construct retaining walls – the backbone of any type of construction in the hills? None whatsoever! Yet, we did it for some vested interest, greed, or worse, in the name of development.

When we make a mistake or commit a crime, the law punishes us but this time, we have ravaged nature. And nature is taking revenge.

Poonam Kirpal

Poonam Kirpal is a Post Graduate in Child Development from Delhi University. Essentially associated with academics at the school and college level, she has been in touch with the young and the old at a personal and professional level. A freelance counsellor, she has three books to her credit: ‘Fast Forward’, ‘Saccharine and a Lot of Spice’, ‘Amma’ and ‘Ma + Ma = Grandma’. You can read her blog at www.midlifeuphoria.blogspot.in