Amrita Vishwa Vidyapeetham, Amritapuri Campus
Travel
ശുഭയാത്ര
Jul 27th
അന്ന് ഞാന് പാലക്കാട്ടേക്കുള്ള ഒര് യാത്രയിലായിരുന്നു.ആവേശത്തിലായിരുന്നു എന്റെ മനസ്സ്.യുവകേരളം മാസിക നടത്തിയ മത്സരത്തില് ഒന്നാം സ്ഥാനം നേടിയത് ഞാനെഴുതിയ ചെറുകഥയായിരുന്നു.അവാര്ഡ് ദാനം പാലക്കാട് ഠൗണ്ഹാളില് വെച്ചാണ്.ജീവിതത്തില് ആദ്യമായി എന്റെ രചനയ്ക്ക് കിട്ടുന്ന അംഗീകാരം,അതെനിക്ക് ഒരുപാട് സന്തോഷം തന്നിരുന്നു.
കൊല്ലത്തുനിന്ന് ട്രെയിനില് എറണാകുളം എത്തി,ഇപ്പോള് അവിടുന്ന് ബസ്സില് പാലക്കാട്ടേക്ക് പൊയ്ക്കൊണ്ടിരിക്കുകയാണ്.പാലക്കാടിന്റെ ഭംഗി എന്നെ വിസ്മയിപ്പിക്കുകയായിരുന്നു.പുഴചാലുകളും പുല്ക്കൂട്ടങ്ങളും വഴിയില് കണ്ണിനു വിരുന്നൊരുക്കി നിന്നു.വീശുന്ന കാറ്റില് പോലും ഗ്രാമത്തിന്റെ സൗന്ദര്യം ആവാഹിച്ചിരുന്നു.പാലക്കാടന് ഗ്രാമം സുന്ദരിയായ യുവതിയായി ഞാന് പോകുന്ന വഴിയില്ലെല്ലാം കൂടെ വന്നു.
ഒരു നിമിഷം,ഞാന് എന്റെ നാടിനെ ഓര്ത്തു.കൊല്ലം,നഗരത്തിന്റെ അഹങ്കാരമാണ് ആ നാടിന്.അധികാരവും ഭരണവും സെക്രട്ടേറിയേറ്റും അടുത്തുകിടപ്പുണ്ടല്ലോ.ക്ഷയിച്ചു നിലം പരിശായ തറവാട്ടിലെ ചോരതുപ്പി ചാകാറായ കാര്ന്നോരുടെ തലക്കനം ഞാന് ഉള്പ്പെടുന്ന തെക്കന് വര്ഗത്തിനുണ്ട്.ചുമ്മാതല്ല ചിലര് പറയുന്നത്,മൂര്ഖനേയും തെക്കനേയും ഒരുമിച്ചു കണ്ടാല് ആദ്യം തെക്കനെ കൊല്ലുമെന്ന്.തല്ലികൊല്ലേണ്ടുന്ന കൈയിലിരിപ്പു തന്നെയാണ് ചിലപ്പോള് ..ഈ എനിക്കും.
വഴിയില് കണ്ട ഒരു കാഴ്ച മനസ്സിനെ ആകര്ഷിച്ചു.പ്രൈവറ്റ് ബസ്സില് കയറാന് സ്കുള് കുട്ടികള് അച്ചടക്കത്തോടെ വരിവരിയായി നില്ക്കുന്നു.കൊല്ലത്ത് ആകെ ഇങ്ങനെയൊരു വരി കാണാന് പറ്റുന്നത് ബീവറേജസിനു മുന്നില് മാത്രമാണ്.മറ്റൊന്നു കൂടി ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചു.പിന്വശത്ത് കൂടി മാത്രമാണ് യാത്രക്കാര് കയറുന്നത്.ബസ്സില് നിന്ന്് ആള്ക്കാര് ഇറങ്ങുന്നത് പിന് വശത്തെ ഡോറില് കൂടിയും.ഇവിടെയാണെങ്കില് വിരുതന്മാര് പറ്റിയാല് ജനാലവഴിവരെ അകത്തുകയറും.മറ്റു ചിലരാണെങ്കില് മുന് വശത്തെ വാതിലില് കൂടിയെ കയറൂ.സ്ത്രീ തിരക്കുണ്ടെങ്കില് ഓസിന് ഒരു സ്പര്ശനവും ആകാമല്ലോ.കിളികളും കണ്ടക്ടര്മാരും സ്പര്ശനകാര്യത്തില് തീരെ മോശക്കാരല്ല.
ഞാന് ആലോചനകള്ക്കു വിലങ്ങിട്ടുകൊണ്ട് എന്റെ ജോലിയിലേക്ക് കടന്നു.എന്തിനും സാക്ഷിയാകാന് മാര്ട്ടിന് കൂപ്പര് ഒര് കിന്ത്രാണ്ടം കണ്ടുപിടിച്ചിരുന്നല്ലോ,മൊബൈല് ഫോണ്.മൊബൈലില് പകര്ത്തിയ പ്രകൃതി ദൃശ്യങ്ങള് 3 ജി സാങ്കേതിക വിദ്യയുടെ മേലാപ്പോടെ സുകെര്ബര്ഗ് ആവിഷ്കരിച്ച സൗഹൃദവലയായ ഫെയ്സ്ബുക്കില് അപലോഡ് ചെയ്യുക എന്ന കലാപരിപാടിയിലേക്ക് ഞാന് കടന്നു. ഇത് ഈ അടുത്ത കാലത്ത് തുടങ്ങിയ ശീലമാണ്,ഫോട്ടോ പകര്ത്തലും അപലാഡലും.
ഗ്രാമമായിരിന്നിട്ടും നെറ്റ് പൊളപ്പന് സ്പീഡിലായിരുന്നു.മൊബൈലെടുത്ത് കുത്തികൊണ്ടിരിക്കുമ്പോള് അടുത്തിരുന്ന അമ്മാവന് എന്നെ ഒന്നു നോക്കി.’പച്ചപരിഷ്കാരി’ എന്നമ്മാവന് മനസ്സില് പറഞ്ഞുകാണും എന്ന് ഊഹിച്ചു.ആ..പോട്ടെ..ഫെയ്സ്ബുക്ക് തറവാട് തുറന്നപ്പോള് കുറെയണ്ണം ചാടിപ്പിടച്ചെത്തി.ഇവറ്റകള്ക്കൊന്നും പല്ലുതേപ്പും കുളീം ഒന്നുമില്ലെ.കാലത്തെ മുതല് ഇതിന്റെ മുന്നിലാണല്ലോ..നോട്ടിഫിക്കേഷന്സ് കുറെയുണ്ട്.പതിവില്ലാതെ ഡിഗ്രിക്ക് കൂടെ പഠിച്ചിരുന്ന് കൂട്ടുകാരന് ഒര് ഫോട്ടോ ടാഗ് ചെയ്തേക്കുന്നു.അതെന്താ..സംഗതി എന്താണെന്ന് അറിയണമല്ലോ.ഞാന് ഫോട്ടോ ഓപ്പണ് ചെയ്തു.
അതൊരു സ്ത്രീയുടെ ഫോട്ടൊയായിരുന്നു.ഒറ്റനോട്ടത്തില് എനിക്കത് ആരാണെന്ന് മനസ്സിലായില്ല.അവന് ഫോട്ടൊയ്ക്ക് നല്കിയ അടിക്കുറിപ്പ് ഞാന് നോക്കി.’ഡിയര് അഞ്ജു മിസ്,വി മിസ് യു’-അത് വായിച്ചു കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോള് എന്റെ ഓര്മ്മയിലേക്ക് ആ മുഖത്തിന്റെ ഉടമ കടന്നു വന്നു.അഞ്ജു മിസ്,ഞാന് ഡിഗ്രിക്ക് പഠിച്ച കോളേജിലെ ലക്ചററായിരുന്നു.എന്നെ പഠിപ്പിച്ചിട്ടില്ല.പക്ഷെ എനിക്ക് മിസിനെ നന്നായി അറിയാം.അന്നു പഠിച്ച എല്ലാ കൂട്ടുകാരുടെയും ഓര്മയില് അഞ്ജുമിസുണ്ടാകും.മറ്റൊന്നുമല്ല.മിസ്സിന്റെ ശരീര പ്രകൃതം.നല്ല കനമാണ്.വലിയ ശരീരം.എന്നും രാവിലെ ഒരു മാരുതിയാലാണ് വരുന്നത്.കാറില് നിന്ന് ഇറങ്ങുന്നതും കോറിഡോറിലുടെ നടന്നുപോകുന്നതും,അതൊക്കെകണ്ട് ദൂരെ നില്ക്കുന്ന ഞങ്ങള് ചില്ലറ കമന്റ് ഒക്കെ ഇറക്കിയിരുന്നു.
കോളേജില് സമരം വന്ന ഒരു ദിവസം.എന്തോ പീക്കിരി പ്രശ്നമാണ്.ഒര് കാര്യവുമില്ലാത്ത ഒരു സമരം വിളി.കുട്ടിനേതാക്കളെല്ലാം മുന്പന്തിയിലുണ്ട്.ക്ലാസ് നടക്കാതിരിക്കാന് പാര്ട്ടി ഭേതമില്ലാതെ ഞങ്ങളും കുടി സമരം വിളിക്കാന്.ഞങ്ങള്ക്കിടയിലേക്ക് മിസ് പെട്ടെന്ന് കടന്നു വന്നു.എന്തായാലും ക്ലാസ് നടക്കുമെന്നും അവശ്യമില്ലാതെ സമരം വിളിക്കേണ്ടുന്ന കാര്യമില്ലെന്നും എല്ലാവരും ക്ലാസില് പോകാനും പറഞ്ഞു.അപ്പോള് തന്നെ മിസ് പഠിപ്പിച്ചിരുന്ന കുട്ടികളെല്ലാം ക്ലാസില് കയറി.കോളേജിലെ വേറെ ആരു വന്നു പറഞ്ഞാലും സമരക്കൂട്ടം പിരിഞ്ഞുപോകില്ലായിരുന്നു.ആ നിമിഷം എനിക്ക് മിസിനോട് ബഹുമാനം തോന്നി.അവരെല്ലാം അഞ്ജുമിസിനെ അനുസരിക്കണമെങ്കില് മിസ് അവരെ അത്രയ്ക്ക് സ്നേഹിക്കുന്നുണ്ടായിരിക്കും..
മിസ്സിന് എന്താണ് പറ്റിയത്.ഫോട്ടോയ്ക്ക് കൂട്ടുക്കാരൊക്കെ ഇടുന്ന കമന്റുകള് കണ്ട് എന്തോ പന്തികേട് തോന്നി.മിസിന് ഒന്നും പറ്റിക്കാണരുതെ എന്ന് മനസ്സുകൊണ്ട് ആഗ്രഹിച്ചു.ഫെസ്ബുക്കില് പെട്ടെന്നിറങ്ങി.
ഫോണില് കീര്ത്തനയുടെ ഒരു മെസേജ് കിടക്കുന്നു.’ടാ നമ്മുടെ അഞ്ജു മിസ് മരിച്ചു’-കേള്ക്കാന് ഒരിക്കലും ഇടവരുത്തരുതേ എന്നാഗ്രഹിച്ച വാര്ത്ത.ഞാന് പുറത്തേക്ക് നോക്കി.മരങ്ങള്ക്കും പുഴയ്ക്കും കാറ്റിനും ചലനമറ്റതായി എനിക്കു തോന്നി.പതുക്കെ പതുക്കെ കാഴ്ച മങ്ങി തുടങ്ങി ..കണ്ണ് നിറയുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു..
ഞാന് കീര്ത്തനയെ വിളിച്ചു.അവളെ മിസ് പഠിപ്പിച്ചുട്ടുണ്ട്.വാക്കുകള് കണ്ടെത്തിയാണ് അവളെല്ലാം പറഞ്ഞു നിര്ത്തിയത്.എനിക്കറിയാം അവര്ക്കെല്ലാം മിസ്,അമ്മയുടെ വലിപ്പമായിരുന്നു.
അഞ്ജുമിസ് കുറേ നാളായി ചെന്നൈയില് ഒരാശുപത്രിയില് ചികിത്സയിലായിരുന്നു.അര്ബുദം ഒരറ്റത്തുനിന്ന് കാര്ന്ന് തിന്നുമ്പോഴും മിസ് കുട്ടികളെ ചേര്ത്തു പിടിച്ചു.അവരോട് വര്ത്തമാനം പറഞ്ഞു.വിശേഷങ്ങള് പങ്കുവെച്ചു.ചിരിച്ചു.ഇപ്പോഴും എവിടെയോ അവര്ക്കു വേണ്ടി കലഹിച്ചുകൊണ്ടിരിക്കുന്നു..
അവാര്ഡിന്റെ ആവേശത്തിലായിരുന്ന മനസ്സ് സങ്കടങ്ങള് നിറഞ്ഞ ഒരു കടലായി എത്ര പെട്ടെന്നാണ് മാറിയത്.എല്ലാ യാത്രകളും അങ്ങനെ തന്നെയല്ലേ.കാറും കോളും നിറഞ്ഞിരിക്കും.അവസാനം ഒരു മഴ വരും.ചിലപ്പോള് ആ മഴ സന്തോഷത്തിന്റെ കൂട്ടുകാരിയായിരിക്കും.മറ്റ് ചിലപ്പോള് അത് കണ്ണുന്നീരിന്റെ സഹയാത്രികനായിരിക്കും ..
ശുഭയാത്ര നേരുന്നു ..
സമര്പ്പണം – ഞങ്ങളുടെ മഞ്ജു മിസിന് ..
Into the forest
Sep 20th
It was very unexpected that I would be asked by my friend to go with him for a trip into the forest near his place. It all happened very fast that without thinking about it I told him that I would go with him. Today I will tell you about that day.
I had to take a bike which was with a friend of my friend. To take that bike from him we had to go to his home.
A trip to his house was itself an adventure! Two guys on a bike, through narrow roads which at some places have fences and concrete barricades to protect the travelers from falling into the deep canyons on both sides and some places just bamboo poles. And in these roads I saw the steepest climbs and hardest descents. I found out why my friend had his bike’s break problem fixed!
By 2.45 PM we reached that guy’s home. But he wasn’t there. His mother told us he went to the deep forest with some guys who used to be in the college with him. They had gone to visit a temple in the forest. Also he took their jeep and asked his mother to give me the bike’s key when we arrive there. So I took the key, thanked her for the fruit juice she gave us and began the journey back.
Anyway, when we got out from there my friend asked me if I would like to go for a trip into the forest. And with out any hesitation, I accorded with him. And we began to climb the mountain on our bikes.
The start-up check
First we had to check if we had enough fuel to make the climb and to come back. We decided to switch of the bikes and ride on neutral while making the descent, as long as possible so that we could save some fuel. There are no petrol bunks in that area and to refill the tanks we would have to come back to the town area which is about 50 KMs from where we were then.
We also decided if his bike runs out of petrol we would use some petrol in my bike. We were safe as long as my bike runs on the main tank. We had to be pretty much sure about that as my friend’s bike drinks up petrol twice the rate than mine.
The Climb – Stage 1
Since we knew they went to a temple and in the forest there are not much temples, we could find the way by asking the people who were there in the first junction we saw. They clearly told us about the steep climbs that are to come and the possibility of seeing an elephant in the way.
For some length the road was tarred and though broke at most of the stretch was comfortable compared to the rest of the way. And then came the steeper climbs. And the inroad? Please imagine this, you are walking on stone paved road. And the stones are floating on water! It was almost the same.
We had to be extra careful on the rocks. There were no barricades to prevent us from getting thrown from the edge! And every now and then me and my friend felt like we were losing control on our bikes! But we kept on going as we both love adventure.
This is the maximum I could snap while on the bike. I had to have both my hands on the handle for the bike to be stable. And that is my friend on his bike, in the distance. Also I took this picture while descending.
A Temple
There were many side roads from the main one. There are nobody in the jungle to ask for directions. We continued on our way trusting our instincts and we looked for tyre marks of the jeep. It was the tyre markings which helped us to decide on which way to move, when we reached a 3-way joint. And we saw it – A Temple.
This temple is of Lord Shiva. There is also a place where the people keep betel leaves and areca nuts for the mountain god, for its help in finding way in and way out, with out any problems. It is believed, if a person gets into the forest with out giving offerings to the mountain God will have a hard time inside the forest.
There they were, the guy whom we went to meet and his friends, with the Jeep. We decided to travel on the Jeep for the rest of the stretch as we were not sure about how far we would be able to ride on the bikes with the available fuel. We had to save the fuel for the trip back, at least until we could refill.
The Climb – Stage 2
So we got into the jeep with the rest of the guys and continued on the trip. The road was much better than the stretch we climbed. We were told that some people had cleared the road with a proclainer. My friend kept watch in anticipation to find an animal. We expected to see elephants or deer or wild buffalo. But with no luck. So we decided to go on with climbing the mountain.
By ‘climbing the mountain’ I don’t mean that there were only climbs. The road was twisting with sharp turns and quicksands where the tyres could get stuck and if not careful even we could get caught in that.
The boys got on top of the jeep so that they could have a better view of the woods. I still can’t make out how they managed to hold on while we were having a rough time traveling through that road.
On Foot
Finally, we reached a point from where the jeep could not be used. The road had mounts of mud and sand in the road which were formed by the JCB which passed earlier some day through there. So, we left the jeep and began to trek. We trekked for almost 5 Kms. We were looking for a small river which we had heard about.
The Leeches
While we were walking we noticed some things crawling on our feet. We took a closer look and saw the leeches: scores of them! We ran from there to a log we found lying on the side and sitting on it we began to remove the leeches. As we were removing the leeches one by one, more of them began to climb. We decided to move till we found solid ground or rocks, to get rid of leeches.
It is very hard to see where the leeches have bitten or where they found room. When they bite you, they inject some kind of a local anesthetic which numbs the portion and they begin to fill themselves with the blood oozing from the tiny wound. We won’t notice it unless we look for it. So, we thoroughly checked our body so that later we wont have to find a leech bulging with blood!
Gradually we lost our hope in finding the stream. We couldn’t hear the stream. Anyway, we kept on walking, with the leeches on our feet.
The Stream
After a hike for about 3 hours we found the stream, or a skeleton of a stream. With only a little amount of water in puddles, we identified it as a stream by the rock pattern. Its dried up. Also we found some remains of burnt logs which might have been used in the process of making arack! We climbed the rocks and continued to walk along the stream.
After sometime we got tired and decided to head back. We couldn’t see any animals and it was almost dark. We thought it would be best if head back as we haven’t taken any precautionary measures against rain or animals as it was a completely unexpected trip.
The Descent
Climbing a mountain is much easier compared to the descent, through a steep slope, with stones rolling under your bike’s tyres. We couldn’t idle the engine and descent on neutral gear as we needed to employ the ‘engine break’ to keep the bike on the road, rather than fly down the slope! But once the rocky slopes were over we could continue our downward journey on neutral gear.
I was not able to take pictures of rocky slopes through which we traveled, because as I said earlier I needed my two hands to hold my bike on track, and I was hoping if I had two more hands!
We were very excited to have made this trip on our bikes. We were very tired. I was fighting hard for breath after the climb back on foot. While climbing back I was running as I didn’t want much of those leeches to get on to my feet!
Even though we were tired, in the end of the day, we were happy! After all, I got a story to tell!
[This post is from my own blog notesfrommrlazy.blogspot.com and was posted there on 04 – 03 – 2010.]
I blog @ notesfrommrlazy.blogspot.com
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My First Flight
Sep 18th
A pleasant evening. There was a rush in my home. I took all the luggage and kept it in the car. Me along with my family were going for a trip to Delhi. It was the first flight for me. I was afraid of planes due to many accidents i heard to have happened at that time.
We reached airport. As it was first for me i was watching all the procedures one passenger has to go through to board the plane. After all the procedures we waited for a long time. After all tight security checking we boarded the plane. I waited the plane to take off. I sat there and prayed(As my first experience). It took off.
As it went up into the skies i watched the skies through the window with a fear inside me. The sun was going to set. The beauty of the skies converted my fear into a sudden happiness. The sight of light hitting the clouds creating shades and making shapes gave me a rare experience. It ws the most beautiful sight i have ever seen. I saw the conversion of a day to night which mingled all objects we watch in the skies.
At that day i noticed the beauty of clouds and how a lighting effects can make great difference in a picture.. WOW.. It was a superb experience. Then i became sad thinking that i had kept my cam in my packed luggage. It was a short flight. With in a few hours we arrived at Delhi airport. I went to take my luggage. I was happy. The only sadness which i had were for the best shots i missed during the flight.
Amateur Photography
Sep 17th
All the photos presented here were taken with Sony Cybershot DSC W210.
More can be found at my photo blog: Perspective.
Calmness:- Idukki Dam As Seen From Cheruthoni Reservoir
Beauty of Palakkad: A Scene from Palakkad-Pollachi Highway
Walk On a Misty Evening- Captured at Azheekkal Beach
The Beauty Of Idukki
Leh Cloud-Burst: a First-hand account
Aug 20th
Midnight, August 6, 2010: “Link, wake up! Water is coming in from the roof!” My mother and I were in Leh, Ladakh, staying at “Eco-Homestay,” the house of Mr. Sonam Gyatso and family, in Lower Sankar. The house was made in a hybrid of traditional and modern construction techniques: the main hall in the house was concrete, while rooms surrounding it were made of sun-dried mud bricks, and roofed with Poplar beams, a mesh of willow branches, and a thick pad of fine clay-like mud. The house incorporated passive solar building techniques, such as a direct-gain room, and a Trombe wall, and had solar-powered lighting. It had been raining since evening, and by midnight the clay roof was saturated and began to leak.
We were in Leh for the express purpose of meeting with Helena Norberg-Hodge, the founder of the International Society for Ecology and Culture [http://www.isec.org.uk/], co-founder of the International Forum on Globalization [http://www.ifg.org/], founder of the Ladakh Ecological Development Group [http://ledeg.org/], and founder of the Women’s Alliance, Ladakh. We had learned of her online, seeing an article of hers in CounterCurrents.org, and watching her video “Ancient Futures.” She is the only person who has critically witnessed the “development” of Ladakh, from complete self-sufficiency in an exceedingly fragile eco-system, to the disaster under which it writhes today. She has seen how “development” pulls people into a money economy, increases the distance between production and consumption, brings reliance on fossil fuels (especially apparent in Leh where fuel and commodities are trucked in over a hazardous two-day journey from lower altitudes), results in urbanization and rural-urban migration, and brings psychological impoverishment to the people it is inflicted upon. For 35 years, she has been working to bring safe, stable, and ecologically sound development to the region through her organizations. Her work today, no longer limited to Ladakh, is focussed on spreading economic literacy among people throughout the planet, educating about the deeper impacts of globalization and today’s consumer mono-culture. Garnered from her years of observation and research, she has an important message for humanity today, which is what prompted us to go and meet her.
Rain is more or less foreign and new to Ladakh, as are tourists. People there say that it never rained in Ladakh, though records show an insignificant average annual rainfall of less than 3.5 inches. Villages exist like oases around rivers and tributaries, the only green in the otherwise rocky, arid landscape. Geographically, Ladakh is situated in the rain shadow of the Lower Himalayan mountains. Water for drinking and irrigation in Ladakh comes from glacier melt, which was historically replenished every year by winter snowfall. Today, anyone in Ladakh — even children — can tell you their memories of large glaciers, now only tiny silver slivers on the tops of massive black mountains in the distance. Going and gone are the pure waters that came from those glaciers. Each generation, and now each year, looks toward the mountains apprehensively, watching their water supply — their life-blood — melt away.
Before bed, Stanzin Tashi, Mr. Gyatso’s son, had been playing with my camera, trying to take pictures of the lightening. It was a ferocious storm, with constant, menacing thunder, and an incessant volley of lightening up and down the valley. The whole family was a little nervous, since they had never seen such a storm before. Mom and I weren’t particularly worried, having experienced tropical storms in Kerala. Only later did we realize that tropical storms belong in the tropics, not the highest mountain desert of the world.
Ladakh, at an altitude of 3,500 meters, is geographically considered to be part of the Tibetan Plateau. They do have violent storms there, usually very brief and very destructive hailstorms, which come few and far-between. In the winter, there is lots of snow, and it is so cold that the schools give a three month holiday. People cluster around little stoves in the center of each room, burning wood and dung to keep warm. As shown in Helena Norberg-Hodge’s book “Ancient Futures: Learning from Ladakh,” (watch the movie online for free at: http://bit.ly/bIOl2B) traditional Ladakh had a completely sustainable life-style. The people were self-sufficient in all their needs: food, water, and warmth. For thousands of years, life had continued there more or less undisturbed by foreign cultures, even though the valley was a focal point for traders travelling the Silk Route, and traders from Tibet and China. Everything about life in Ladakh had a view toward the future generations; resources were shared and balanced, ensuring that they were never depleted, and the population was self-regulated to ensure enough for everyone. There were no squalid poor, no filthy rich. The people were strong, honest, and trustworthy. Only recently has all of this changed, as “modern world culture” invades and converts people to it’s individual-centric, greedy, consumerist ways.
As I awoke, I noticed water pouring down the walls, and saw that the storm was still in full force. Mr. Gyatso and I went up to the roof and started bailing with a dustpan and a bucket. Gradually the rain died down, and we removed most of the standing water. By around 3 AM, the rain had subsided, the storm had moved farther down the valley, and the roof was no longer dripping; we went to sleep.
Prayer Wheels near the Leh Gate.
Two nights previous, Nubra (a nearby town) had suffered significant damage from a cloud burst, and radio had reported some 12 deaths. On the morning of the 6th, the radio was silent and phones unresponsive, so Mr. Gyatso went out to take stock of the situation. When he came back, he was in shock. ”The BSNL office, the Bus Stand, the Hospital, everything below the [entrance to Leh] gate… all gone.” That’s all he could say. He had never seen anything like it, nor had anyone else in living memory. (The entrance to Leh is grandly decorated by a colorful and ornate Buddhist gate over the road, with prayer wheels and chortens on either side.) Apparently, a cloud-burst had happened in a ravine above the Leh Gate, causing a huge torrent of water to rush down the ravine into the road, picking up stones, mud, bricks, cars, people, and houses as it went. All communication channels were taken out — no electricity, no telephone, no radio, no internet.
The remains of the BSNL office. I’m told that it was quite a large building. All communications were knocked out.
Many of the fatalities have been blamed on poor planning: due to the mad influx of “development” to the region, many houses were built in places where, traditionally, no building should stand. We call it “tradition” and scoff at it, but in truth we are mocking a set of codes that have been developed and refined for thousands of years. A Ladakhi saying goes to the effect that “Water must have it’s way,” essentially, that the flow of water must not be blocked. Had this simple command been heeded, much of the destruction could have been avoided, but today’s globalization pattern eschews and destroys anything and everything that doesn’t fit the consumer mono-culture — it ignores the Earth upon which it stands.
Mom immediately swung into action, and she and I headed out by 9 AM with a shovel, some water, willing hearts, and two hands each. When we got to the gate, we saw unbelivable devastation. The flood had left behind mud about a story deep, buried houses, toppled steel-and-concrete structures four stories high, crunched cars… it was much like the Tsunami of 2004 in South East Asia. Numb with shock, a crowd of people were helping a JCB (backhoe) dig at the top of the pile, looking for survivors. We helped there a bit, then continued down the hill towards the hospital. The destruction became more and more massive as we went. The air was dry, causing passing vehicles to raise clouds of dust from the now-dry mud.
We later heard opinions expressed that the traditional mud-brick construction of the majority of the houses which were destroyed was responsible for the deaths; had it been modern cement and steel, they say, the houses would have remained. On the ground, however, next to a four story cement and steel structure that had half toppled over, was a single story mud-brick house that had received the full brunt of the flow but was still standing. Not that it made a difference: people in both structures died in the deep flow of mud, but the difference in structural integrity was astonishing, and is worth taking note.
This building is two or three stories tall (not sure because I haven’t seen it before this), and the mud surrounding it is up to the top story.
As we continued down the path that the water had taken (we were walking on the mud left behind, between four and six feet above normal ground level) we went past the municipal buildings, the location of the destroyed BSNL office, and down towards the hospital. The destructive power of fast-flowing water is amazing: bulldozers and road rollers had been piled up against a fence; four buses were smashed into the back of a building; a water tanker was driven up a satellite dish; the bus stand was cleared; Innovas, Santros, Qualis’s, Sumos, all were strewn around the landscape, crushed sometimes beyond recognition; houses were wiped out without a trace. We are sure that every time we walked on that mud, we were walking over dead bodies.
Reaching the new hospital building, we joined the people working there. The construction of this three story building had been just finished, it’s plumbing and electrical was almost done, and miraculously, it had survived the flood. The ground floor was full of mud about two feet deep, and patients were already being brought in from the old, single-story, mud-filled hospital. Mom went up to see what she could do in the wards, while I joined some people clearing the mud for streachers and other equipment. Another major miracle: the hospital’s drug and equipment store room had been untouched, as had the only petrol pump in Leh, about 100 meters farther down.
This is the new hospital building. Note the height of the mud on the sides: over one story high.
A fire truck was positioned near the hospital, and supplied water to wash off the various pieces of equipment that were salvaged from the old wards: oxygen and nitrogen tanks, suction machines, X-Ray machines, beds, streachers, etc. Once washed, the equipment was dried and immediately put to use. After a bit, I too went to the wards, and got involved in dressing wounds. Most of the patients had full-body cuts and scrapes, about 90% of their skin scratched or missing, with head injuries, and many broken ribs.
Many of the patients were Bihari. Did you imagine that only tourists went to Ladakh? There are almost as many Bihari laborers in Leh as there are Ladakhis! Due to the economics of globalization, the poor Bihari has become the laborer for the rest of India, going to the most remote corners of the country, slaving for cash to send to his farming village, so that they can buy food that they can’t grow, as their fields are filled with mono crops meant for the export market. It continues to amaze me that farmers, who produce the only truly essential commodity, are taught to see their profession as backward, and are cheated into living in the money economy as poor, starved skeletons. Squeezing the rural poor is good for the GDP, however, since it creates a large, cheap labor pool, which encourages construction, which generates investment opportunities for the rich. ”To he that have shall be given, and from he that have not, shall be taken even that which he has.” The “poor” (”undeveloped”) had culture, now even that is being taken away by today’s globalized, greed-based corporatocracy.
Choglamsar, a town about 7 kilometers down the valley from Leh, was worst hit — reports said it was mostly wiped out. For several hours that morning, army lorries were bringing up loads of dead bodies every 10 minutes, and an unfinished shopping complex was turned into a temporary morgue, after the official one, and another hall, had filled up. The bridges and roads to other villages were completely wiped out, making the only escape for tourists in those parts a three day trek. A friend of ours who had gone trekking just before the disaster told us (when she finally made it back, days later) that the Ladakhi social fabric is still sufficiently intact, despite the onslaught of modernization, that families in the town she was in were opening their guesthouses free of charge for people whose homes were destroyed. Helena Norberg-Hodge, in a message she wrote to Ladakhis at this time observed that if such hospitality could be extended throughout the region, than the huge amounts of money that is usually spent for conventional emergency relief could be saved and put to better use. What better response than a community response? Low-cost, highly efficient, localized, and personal; that is the way of the future.
From Mrs. Norberg-Hodge, we learned that in Buddhism, as in Sanathana Dharma, there is an emphasis on accepting change, part of the reason that “development,” and the associated impoverishment of people has been readily accepted in Ladakh and throughout India. However, today’s change is not natural, evolutionary change, it is change that is actively brought about due to an economic structure that is destroying human civilization. Globalization is truly the spread of consumerism and an economically unsound mono-culture. In her film, “The Economics of Happines,” Helena Norberg-Hodge points to our common misconception of globalization, that it is about increasing international understanding and collaboration. Today’s globalized economies import and export about the same amount of each commodity, creating a needless increase in transportation. Need is manufactured, and products created to fill that need, leading to a gigantic, senseless waste of resources. Helena showed us how apples in the UK were flown to South Africa for washing and waxing, and then flown back for sales. The recent shutdown due to volcanic ash in Europe demonstrated the perilous aspects of the global economy. Consumerism is exported and expounded to all parts of the planet, impoverishing truly rich, though “undeveloped” people. All of this leads to an increase in the usage (wastage?) of energy worldwide, heating our Earth, polluting our water, killing our soil. When we speak of the world’s regions most vulnerable to climate change, islands and beaches top the list, but this experience in Ladakh convinces me that all places on Mother Earth are equally, and extremely, endangered.
The next two nights, the Government issued a warning, telling all people to leave their houses and congregate at higher ground, and many people went to the tops of nearby ridges. As it was, people were jumpy and nervous; several times during the day, on mere rumors, people ran up the mountainsides fearing more flooding. The shock and grief of everyone in Leh was palpable. We met many people who told us that their whole family had been washed away… The family we were staying with climbed up to the Shanti Stupa, which is built on a small rocky hillock. Both nights we got back from the hospital, they were already gone, and we had no idea that this warning was issued, so we slept in our beds, somewhat nervous, but not knowing what else to do. By God’s Grace there was nothing more than mild rain!
Since all roads were damaged (sections washed away, blocked by mudslides, bridges gone), the only way out was the airport. Airlines were operating extra flights out of the Leh Airport, and everyone who could was trying to get out. The embassies of various countries had requested all their people to evacuate. Any ticket was valid for any flight (if you waited in line for a free seat). As our seats were confirmed for the 12th, we decided to wait and help in the hospitals until we left. We were grateful to be useful at such a time. We took photos of the patients to show Holy Mother Amma for her blessing when we got back, and she saw them on the night of the 13th.
A picture of the Candlelight Procession.
Ladakh has been an interesting case-in-point since it was opened to “modernization” in 1975. It is a microcosm of what happens to a people, culture, and ecology, when the consumer mono-culture and globalization hits it without consideration of ancient wisdoms for living with Mother Earth, and regulated intelligent development. The crises that has now hit Ladakh will, most unfortunately, hit again and again, and is not necessarily confined to Ladakh. If humankind does not learn from the increasing incidence of natural and man-made disasters, we have nothing to look forward to but mass extinction. If we seek to change our ways, the only real way to look is towards Localization — the bringing together of producer and consumer, and the creation of ethically-oriented communities, not to be confused with backwardness and isolationism. We need to think globally, and live locally, if we seek genuine development —true globalization.
Candles at the end of the procession.
On the 11th night, the Ladakh Buddhist Association (LBA) organized a candle light march from the petrol pump at the bottom of the hill to the LBA grounds in the Leh Market, in prayerful support of the people affected. Vehicles were stopped to limit the dust, but the wind blasted everyone with it anyway. Going down to the hospital before it started, clouds were gathering quite menacingly at the head of the valley, and it looked as if it was raining heavily in the next valley over, causing no slight misgivings among all the people! We bid farewell to all our friends in the hospital, and joined the march by the Leh gate. Angmo-le, Mr. Gyatso’s wife, was with us and sang a beautiful Buddhist chant as we went, as did many other groups. The procession culminated at the top of Market Road, placing all the candles in a circle, with everyone’s collective prayers for peace and harmony.
Video of the Candlelight Procession.
The following morning we flew out of the valley, over the majestic mountains, and down into Delhi. Personally, I was quite sad to leave the mountains; they are so beautiful and make easy a constant recall of the great power of God.
The tremendous loss of life in Ladakh is clearly a direct result of climate change, which in turn, is a direct result of the spread of economic globalization and with it the energy-intensive human and agricultural monoculture. As we are all aware, the floods that started in Ladakh continued down the Indus River, now displacing 13 million people in Pakistan. Submerging much of the Sindh area, it has become the biggest natural disaster in recent history. We were grateful to be able to render practical support and service to the great people of Ladakh, and pray that humans return to a loving and respectful relationship to each other and to Mother Earth, before it is too late.
It’s good not to be a tourist, it’s much more real to be family.
Credits: Much of the information in this article has been gained from our interactions with Helena Norberg-Hodge. See also: “Ancient Futures: Learning from Ladakh” by Helena Norberg-Hodge, and www.TheEconomicsOfHappiness.org
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