Toll tax on Development

‘Switzerland of East’ aka ‘Unforgettable Himachal’ is hurling surprises at me every day that I am passing in its majestic lap (being a curious kid in the lap of Himalayas).The diversity existing in these hills are baffling me and trust me I am experiencing ecstasy every day even without relishing the so called famous ‘Malana Cream’. Day by day I am kind of developing a sense of ownership and my heart is no more an outsider in this newly found home for itself. Slowly but mostly my status has changed from being a clumsy guest to a responsible host. The secret is ‘Once you go to hills you belong to them’. Now I get upset on seeing a tourist littering around. I feel like saying, ‘gentleman don’t dirty      my place’ as I am yet to host some more like you. While jogging through the apple orchards in the morning I realize what I missed in the jungles of Fontainebleau. And while on the roads when I am engulfed by a passing cloud I wonder what more I could have asked for in this life. But while looking at every smiling and contended face around I get confused about my role as administrator. Do I really have anything to offer which can add to their happiness or will my future roles in various capacities only deteriorate the Gross Happiness Index of these beautiful people? And this very confusion gives birth to a series of fluctuating thoughts and raise questions as to what is development and what really an inclusive and sustainable development is all about? Does anyone really understands the concept or it’s just a frenzied propaganda of a few arm chair theorist who are minting money and earning their bread and butter out of it? Are there any serious souls around?

                Classes are invariably boring for everyone except for a few who can beat any odd and will always be the winners. During one such boring class I met this interesting IAS officer who remarked, “Shimla is Himachal but Himachal is not Shimla”. The remark encapsulated the diversity existing in the state but generally overlooked by the uninformed tourists visiting the state. And the person who said this was none other but an ex-Director of Himachal Tourism Department. And this was the premise based on which he pushed two projects namely ‘Har Ghar Kuch Kahata hai’ and ‘Har Gaon Ki Kahani’ which won Himachal a number of national awards leaving even the ‘Gods own country’ behind. These are coffee table books. The first book captures various buildings in and around Shimla of British era and their grandeur. The second book presents anecdotes and folklores from different villages portraying their culture, custom, history, ritual, festivals and mythology. And these books have helped in promoting ‘Rural Tourism’ in Himachal attracting far more number of tourist each year especially foreign tourists which has even exceeded the numbers in Goa (Difficult to digest but true!). Himachal lives in its villages is just not philosophy but statistics support too as 89 % population of state is rural. Every village and every town of the state is unique and offers ample opportunity and can cater to diverse tourist profiles needs.

                My first story is about a village known by different metaphors like ‘Shangri-La of Himalayas’, ‘forbidden land’, ‘Athens of Himalayas’ and ‘Utopia in Himalayas’ etc. Yes I am talking about ‘Malana’, a village in Kullu district which must be by and large the most famous village of India on the world map partially thanks to ‘Malana cream’. Villagers here trace their origins to Alexander the Great and call themselves the descendants of Alexander’s army which decided to stay back after their victory against King Porus. Legend has it that once Akbar the Great too visited the place looking for cure of an ailment (he must have been too stressed I guess!). Villagers speak a language understood only by them. Kanashi, the language of Malanis is totally different from dialects in its neighbourhood and is probably a mix of Sanskrit and Tibetan dialects. The wooden houses in the village have unique architecture with Greek styled motifs decorating them. The village must be the oldest republic in the world. Local deity ‘Jamlu Devta’ rules the village with the help of a council elected by the villagers. Villagers have immense faith in ‘Jamlu Devta’ and his fiats. His Temple is an imposing structure in the upper Malana. For Malanis, Malana is a different country altogether and rules of India don’t apply to them. They consider themselves superior to outsiders who are instructed to walk on designated roads while crossing the village. Outsiders can’t touch anything in the village and if they do so are fined to the tune of a thousand bucks. If Malanis by chance come in contact with an outsider they sacrifice a lamb to Jamlu Devta to purify themselves.  Mystery surrounding the village has been a theme of research for many inquisitive souls and script for many documentaries. Inaccessibility of village and the ‘Malana Cream’ in the past has been the motivation for enthusiastic trekkers more so foreigners. State Police reached the village only in 1996. By 2006 some kind of rural tourism has developed with ‘Hotel Dragon’ catering to the tourist in lower Malana. Till last decade civil administration had hardly any clue about what goes on in the village located at around 10,000 ft. and Malanis were living there since 326 BC (as the legend has it!) in peace without any demands from outside world. Last decade saw a flurry of changes which has unsettled the life of Malanis to a large extent. Two hydro projects have come up the vicinity and roads are being constructed all around. The place is losing its peace and charm not only for Malanis but also for tourists. If that was less, a major mysterious fire in 2008 destroyed 40 % of the village reducing some unique wooden structures to ashes. In 2011 a school started functioning as well which was desperately needed by the Education Department to interface and integrate Malanis with the rest of the world. But no sooner administration entered into the area, the village has been in shambles. All that civil administration wanted was to bring Malanis in mainstream but results have been devastating. Did Malanis aspire for it? Is inclusive growth really worth it if not sustainable and damages traditional social ecology beyond repair? Who is at faults: The Administration, Malanis or the Concept of Development?

                Last weekend along with my friends I visited a place called Tattapani in Mandi district located on Shimla-Mandi Highway around 55 Kilometres from Shimla on the banks of river Sutlej. We started at around 5 PM from Shimla. It’s a beautiful drive descending from an elevation of 2200 metres to 660 metres

at Tattapani crossing beautiful places like Mashobra and Naldehra. As we go downhill, the change in vegetation presents a spectacular view. Amazingly you find date trees on your left side in Suni, a place just near Tattapani indicating presence of inland sea known as Tethys once upon a time under mighty Himalayas. Tattapani means ‘Hot Water’ and as the name suggest there exist hot water springs on the banks of Sutlej in this expanse. The hot water coming out of these springs contain sulphur and some other rare elements which are considered good for skin. As soon as we reached, we headed towards a restaurant set just on the banks of Sutlej. We had tea while taking a walk on the bank of the river and had a brief photo session too. Being rainy season Sutlej was gushing down at its full might. For dinner, to our surprise the restaurant owner suggested us a place in open just next to the river. A table and some chairs around it where placed on the sandy bank. And while the order was being served, they lit a candle creating a perfect ambience for dinner. And to add to it the restaurant owner also arranged for chilled beer. I could not have asked for more. I was experiencing a trance and tripping now and then. The entire situation was implausible. One of my friend who belonged to Indian Forest Services said ‘I never had a dinner in such a setting before’. The gush of water was musical and the beer was marinating my soul and I was experiencing a high least concerned of the conversation going on the table. So overwhelmed were we that for a dinner bill of measly thousand bucks, we gave the waiter five hundred as tip. The place had won us over. We would have never desired to leave the place but the call of our duty next day was sufficient reason to push off. As we started to get into our vehicle the owner came running to us handing over a pamphlet of his resort which was up hill away from the bank. He was inviting us to visit the resort in future. I said forget about the resort your restaurant here near the bank is an amazing place and we would love to come here again for dinner sometime. On this the owner looked down and said with a heavy heart, “Sir, this place is going to submerge by the year end when a hydel project nearby gets commissioned”. Ground slipped beneath my feet. His account jolted my soul and mind which was in trance so far was struck by the reality. We all returned back to Shimla with a heavy heart.

                Next day while surfing on the net I found that Koldam Hydro project of 800 MW is coming up on Sutlej River in Bilaspur which will lead to submergence of 68 villages in the area. But these villages have been more than adequately compensated as Himachal has one of the world’s best Hydel power policy benefitting the project affected people (PAPs). So it’s a win-win situation for the operator NTPC (Interestingly my previous employer!), people and the state government which will get the 12 % share in electricity produced. But the coming generation will miss what I had experienced that evening. This is the toll tax on development that the society is paying unknowingly. I am a budding administrator and I am not supposed to or rather I can’t afford to get emotional about these things. Government expects me to be an agent of change and development and so will I be. There is not an iota of doubt in my mind whatsoever. But the kid inside me keeps me restless. And I love that kid enough not to part ways with him. But the kid is oblivious, so there is a way out.