Memoirs of a Doonite

An Order Published Too Late

A malady worse than cancer has gripped the old & new generation living in the hills. Some time back a feature had been published in your daily titled: “Plight of Women in Uttarakhand”. In that article, Bhagati Devi accidentally cut her leg with a sickle. Her young husband had to rush to the village to bring her to Srinagar for treatment. This time I write about this young man in particular & all other peasants in general to reveal the rot that has set in the lives of these erstwhile simple people.

Balam Singh, name changed, was summoned back to the village from Doon to help his father till the land measuring about 55 Nalis scattered over a wide area. His father was in the Army & pestered the Commanding Officer for voluntary discharge after earning pension able service. He did not alter his resolve even after sage counsel. After retirement his only son, Balam Singh was born. Had he been in the Army he would have been compelled to record it by means of an “order”. In the village he did not deem it necessary only to sow the seed of an impending tragedy that followed. Soon the wife died & Balam Singh was raised by the aged grandmother.

Balam Singh’s father was dim witted & delightfully gullible for the wily counterparts in the village. They methodically nurtured his foolish ego & in turn were rewarded with a perennial supply of tea & hours of gossip in his house. This lifestyle rendered his pecuniary condition critical. Still, ends were being met though with great hardship. His aged mother tilled the land, & still does, to eke out living, growing vegetables. Meanwhile he lazed about subsisting on his meager pension.

One day, a “bosom” friend took a loan from the local bank while Balam’s father stood as guarantor. As expected, his friend went to some town or city & never returned. His pension was attached for repayment of the loan. Now he was poorer than the proverbial church mouse. This did not alter his life style. The tea kettle was always full to quench the insatiable propensity of the peasants to sip tea. How did he manage? Well he took rations & money on loan & soon became heavily indebted. He proudly but foolishly warned his son that the latter would make good his debt throughout his life!

While children normally grow up, Balam tumbled up & despite this, grew to be a sprightly young man. Predictably, the father took Balam for enrolment only to find that his son was short of pipping the desired height by 2 cms. Balam tried again & again only to be told that he was too short. Only if he was a son of an Ex-Serviceman could he avail a 2 cms concession. Still wisdom did not dawn on his father. Much later he went to Lansdowne & got the needful order published. By then it was too late. The Army had raised the physical height further as a result of which Balam was now 4 cms short. (Apparently it seems that the Army discovered that taller men make better soldiers than shorter ones & that indisputably they look better. Twisting the logic further, they would assume that in hindsight taller & better looking soldiers would have performed far better than 2 cms shorter ones in WW I & II!) All hopes for Balam Singh to join Army vanished. He still had hope. His father owned some land in the village at a potentially commercial area where a road had been developed. He could open a shop there & do good business.

Balam Singh was dismayed to learn that his father had sold of this piece of lucrative land. With this, whatever hope he had to fend for himself vanished. At this stage the evils of new culture prevalent in the hills overtook him. His peer group gathered around him & accentuated Balam’s frustration. These gatherings were always accompanied by drinking bouts & useless rambling over their collective despondency.

Alcoholism is the Achilles’ heel of all hill people. Earlier the only source was the monthly quota from the Canteen. Now a new development had taken place. Cheap & readily available labor in the form of Nepalese had made their indelible presence in the remote areas of the hills. Their technology of making cheap hooch was quickly mastered by the locals. Every enterprising household was preparing this heady brew, packing it in polybags & using young children as couriers, often their own, to deliver the same to the market place. The reward for the children - two toffees or biscuits! With this system in vogue, the rot spread from the very impressionable age of the children. The illegal distillers of hooch encourage the women & children to become addicts. Shocking? Wait till you read the next lines.

The liquor is made under highly unhygienic conditions. In order to hasten the process & ensure a good “kick,” some shocking ingredients are added that will assure death in a matter of months. One deadly ingredient is Urea. The other is the use of the carbon rod of dry cells, which are ground & added to the mixture. Often the brew is consumed even before it has cooled down. Such cottage industry is flourishing. A young boy once revealed to the author that he too had procured the containers & tools to start making liquor but soon abandoned it. All this is shocking revelation. The prior evening Balam Singh had consumed such concoction & was found cold & lifeless next morning. He leaves behind a young childless widow, a father neck deep in debt, & a 90 odd year old grandmother who tends the vegetable patch & cooks for her good-for-nothing-retired son.

Life in the hills is tough for any hill dweller. Here, in Uttarakhand, men are often seen sitting idly gossiping & smoking. Women literally kill themselves with work. Disco dancing during marriages is keenly looked forward to. Every marriage, as in Doon, is a three day affair. The fare on all days is the same – meat & liquor. However the occasions are different. The first day is “Cocktail Party”; the second is “Baraat”; & the penultimate day is “At Home”. Are you reading this Mr. George Bush? We in the hills are not far behind you & could have given you some ideas on how to blow up scarce money on useless avoidable marriage ceremonies. When the author tells some literate men to mend their ways, they find the suggestion ridiculous – “What will others say if we don’t have a three day ceremony & that too without liquor & meat?” they say. They are convinced that the author has gone bonkers!

Most of the youth cheat in the exams. Attending school is a big farce. There is no vocational training & there are no jobs. In the plains they have to compete with more sturdy & aggressive youth of other states. They travel from town to town, city to city, hoping they will make it big one day working under a “Sethji”. Dreams remain dreams. With them their young brides, left back in the village, are doomed & so is the fate of the hill districts of Uttarakhand. No one can help. The locals have to help themselves. The million dollar question is – WILL THEY?

I planted some seeds of Nectarine seeds in my backyard in 2003. This year, early spring, this tree blossomed & about 22 fruits formed. I took pics of these at varying stages. The fruit is of good size & has acquired lovely red colour. I hope the fruit will taste as good as it looks. If it does I will graft cuttings on some local peach trees to propagate this fruit. Anyone else growing this may exchange notes on the subject of griwing Nectarines.

src="http://data5.blog.de/media/588/2574588_f19ed756ed_s.jpg" alt="Jemadar Keshar Singh" vspace="5" hspace="5" /> The Great Escape – From Italy to India

Some time back we had learnt about a truly outstanding soldier who hailed from Village Haida Kholi, near Satpuli, not far from Lansdowne. He was Laat Subedar Balbhadra Singh Negi. Last month I was fortunate to meet the son of another Garhwali soldier whose feat must be revealed so that many more unsung heroes like Keshar Singh are given due recognition. This is the tale as narrated by his son Lt Col (retired) Surender Singh Chaudhari.

This is the story of Keshar Singh Chaudhari. He was born in village Ladoli, Kirsal, in District Chamoli of Uttarakhand. Like many other brave young men he went on to join the 3rd Battalion, 18 Royal Garhwal Rifles. Significantly, this battalion was destined to sail to East Africa to inaugurate the first Allied victory in this theatre & that too under the command of Brig (later Field Marshal) W Slim.

With the declaration of war on 3 September 1939, 3rd Battalion, 18 Royal Garhwal Rifles moved to Jhansi in October as part of 10 Infantry Brigade commanded by Brigadier W Slim MC, under 5 Infantry Division. The battalion disembarked at Port Sudan on 24 September 1940 & proceeded to Haiya Camp & thence to Gederaf, the Headquarter of Sudan Defense Force. Here they dug defenses & commenced training. 10 Brigade Headquarters was located a few miles short of Galabat. 4th Battalion 10th Baluch Regiment held position a mile ahead of the brigade headquarters. The third battalion of the brigade was the Essex Regiment.

Galabat was a formidable fortress, held by the Italians, situated on the Sudan-Abyssinian border. The Italians had captured this fortress from the Sudan Defense Force on the outbreak of war. Under the Italians it had been further fortified & was quite like similar positions the British troops had confronted in Afghanistan – covering approximately 300 square yards atop a barren rocky hill offering an excellent defensive position.

A surprise attack was staged to recapture Galabat. William “Bill” Slim’s 10th Infantry Brigade of the Indian 5th Infantry Division was accompanied by a squadron of 12 medium and light tanks, a field regiment of artillery, and supported by the RAF.

On 6 November 1940, the Garhwalis commenced the assault on Galabat supported by tanks. Delta Company led the assault across a minefield facing heavy machine gun fire & succeeded in silencing the guns. Charlie Company pressed home the attack, made a gap in the wire obstacle while tanks maneuvered to the rear of the enemy. Significantly, Jemadar Keshar Singh was the leading Platoon Commander in this attack by Charlie Company. Under Lt Col SE Taylor’s inspiring leadership & valor, the fort was captured. (Lt Col SE Taylor was immediately behind the leading section commander, the author’s father, attacking Galabat).

While the majority of Italian troops fled, two Italian officers were taken PW. (Lt Col SE Taylor DSO later died in the battle for Sanchil, once again leading from the front manifesting his characteristic bravado for which he had often been chastised by Major SK Murray)

Garhwali veterans of this theatre were & are known to the author & it must be admitted that these men were made of different mettle than their counterparts of today. (The author’s father, a veteran of this war, lives on to narrate the tales with vivid clarity). They narrated graphic tales of their personal experiences fighting “the white man’s battle against other white men” in a totally alien & hostile country. They recall with pride that they laid the foundation of the Allied victory in East Africa.

Keshar Singh was a Jemadar at that time & was part of the attack on Galabat. As usual the attack had to contend with the formidable minefields, machine gun, mortar & artillery fire, & enemy air bombardment. The veteran soldiers held the Italian mortars in high esteem because of their speedy & devastatingly accurate counter mortar fire. Consequently the attacking troops had to quickly redeploy themselves after having frantically prepared safe dugouts, cursing the British officers for ordering the move from the seemingly safe dugouts only to bless them later for taking that decision. (In such situations there was one incident that the author can scarcely resist narrating. After capturing Galabat, the author’s father & men of his section selected a seemingly safe crater to take cover from the expected Italian counter bombardment. Just then the Essex Regiment of British soldiers moved up & shooed them away to go elsewhere & occupied the crater. In the ensuing shelling a shell fell plumb into it & killed all of them! Such things do happen in war.)

Jemadar Keshar Singh survived a minefield injury that he sustained in Galabat shortly after cautioning men of his platoon about the threat of Italian mines! It is not known when this Brigade faced its first setback; when & how Garhwali soldiers were taken captive. In the ensuing setbacks & successes the Allied troops fell captive to the Italians as did the Italians themselves. In one of these occasions Keshar Singh became a POW – whether of the Germans or Italians is not known. This was the end of Keshar Singh’s role in the battle against the Axis powers. However he continued to show those sterling qualities of a soldier even in captivity.

Officially Keshar Singh was declared missing during Dec 1940. This was communicated to his family by a letter. His family members lost no hope & awaited happy tidings till one year. After this long wait they assumed that he was dead. Accordingly his last rites were performed. Keshar Singh’s son was four years old. Both mother & son endured a life of deprivation till 4 May 1945.

On 4 May 1945 Keshar Singh’s wife received a letter written by him from MH Chandigarh. He was wounded & would soon reach home. As expected & customary, this blessing of his home-coming was attributed to Lord Badrinathji. On 10 May 1945 Keshar Singh arrived at the village amidst unprecedented jubilation. The dead had come alive! It was nothing short of a miracle. A ceremony to mark his re-birth & re-marriage was performed.

Naturally everyone was eager to hear about his travails after being declared missing. He came out with a startling revelation. He had escaped from an Italian PW camp in Italy. His only companion in the Great Escape was none other than the late Chief of the Army Staff – General PP Kumaramangalam! Much later, on the occasion of becoming the Army Chief he invited Subedar Keshar Singh, by then retired, to Delhi. What a great occasion that must have been! Little is known about what transpired between the two. One expects some account of the duo’s travails from the Italian PW camp to India in memoirs of the General.

During the II World War, East Africa was witness to rising & falling fortunes for the adversaries. In August 1940, Italians had successfully wrested control of the region from the British. The British Garrison of Berbera was besieged. Two Australian ships, including HMAS Hobart evacuated 7000 besieged troops. The most significant feature of this operation was that three Australians engaged in rescue operations became Australia’s first prisoners of the Italians. Later, as Italian fortunes rose, British troops taken prisoners found themselves lodged in the some camps that were prepared by the British for the expected Italian prisoners!

As the tide turned in favor of the Allied Forces the POWs were moved rearwards till they were finally lodged in Italy after suffering privations, hunger, unhygienic conditions & often torture. Keshar narrated to his kin that the Italians lodged prisoners in nine concentric circles. The innermost was for the most troublesome prisoners who were stamped as ‘Turbulenti’- those with history of attempted escape & evasion. Accordingly the ones in the outermost circle were trusted not to attempt escape or mutiny. One’s status in the prison was subject to one’s conduct. In one such prison Keshar Singh impressed Major PP Kumaramangalam. The latter was the Adjutant at the camp & took Keshar Singh as his Jemadar Adjutant. They remained together as prisoners in the same PW camp. In the camp, the Italians relied upon British Officers to exercise control over the prisoners. They were referred to as SBOs (Senior British Officers). Apparently Major PP Kumaramangalam, on who was conferred the DSO while a prisoner was deputed as SBO but not before proving his credentials. Keshar Singh narrated that the two worked their way from the tight inner circles to the outermost in order to put their plan into action.

At an opportune moment at night the two slipped out & made good their escape on a motor cycle. The two were discovered fleeing on the motor cycle & were fired upon resulting in a bullet injury sustained by Keshar Singh. The two evaded capture & commenced an arduous journey along the northern shore of the Mediterranean Sea, to cross over to Asia Minor & finally reached India. On one occasion they had to cross a formidable river. They used their wet air-filled-pajamas to keep themselves afloat & swam across. During the escape they hid themselves during the day & moved during night. Apparently Major Kumaramangalam became captive after two weeks & was lodged once again in a PW camp – this time in Germany. Six months later Keshar Singh was back in India. On arrival in India he was kept under custody for interrogation till finally cleared & ordered back to service. According to Keshar Singh, Major Kumaramangalam too had returned to India while Keshar Singh’s role after he was declared missing was under scrutiny. Both were promoted – Major Kumaramangalam to the rank of Brigadier & Jemadar Keshar Singh to the rank of Subedar.

One would like to know if anyone has recorded a detailed account of the Great Escape of these two soldiers. The endeavor of the author is twofold. Firstly, invite more details about the capture, life in the PW camps, treatment of Indian soldiers (treated worse than that of the European soldiers); escape plan, assistance by locals en route, & survival of the two heroes would be most welcome from any quarter. Secondly, the Kumaramangalam family could arrange a meeting with the family members of Keshar Singh. Keshar Singh’s son recalls that his father did speak about the subject, but only after he had taken his daily “dram”! Keshar Singh mentioned about some Muslim officer of the British Indian army who, a heavy smoker, often smoked Keshar Singh's quota of cigarettes too! This officer later went on to become a General in the Pakistan army! Perhaps detailed research could be carried out by serious scholars to record authentic details of the outstanding feat of this duo.

(A similar tale of escape from a PW camp, narrated but not recorded, by late Chattar Singh of the same battalion, resident of Chamba, Tehri Garhwal should have been preserved in our historical records. Chattar Singh was an amputee having lost a leg. He lived long after regaling one & all by ticking off senior army & civil officers including our revered friend late Commissioner SC Singha!)

No. 8964 – IO Subedar Keshar Singh Chaudhari was the son of Kaliyan Singh Chaudhari. He retired in 1948. His had five sons continued with the tradition of serving in the Army. They are:-
Hav/ VM Narender Singh Chaudhari
Lt Col SS Chaudhari
SM/Clk/Hony Capt BS Chaudhari
Subedar RS Chaudhari
Hav Kunwar Singh Chaudhari

Some of the soldiers who were in Jemadar Keshar Singh’s platoon are as follows:-
(a) Platoon Headquarters
Havildar Dharam Singh
Naik Umrao Singh
Rifleman Narain Singh
(b) Leading Section
Naik Inder Singh Rawat (Retired Lt Col IS Rawat KC)
Rifleman Inder Singh Rawat, IDSM
Rifleman (Cobbler) Dalbir Sarki, IDSM
Rifleman Sher Singh
Others eminent soldiers who were in the Galabat Battle with Jemadar Keshar Singh are:-

Jemadar Rithu Singh Rawat, IDSM, IOM (Retd Hony Capt)
Jemadar Ram Singh, MC
Jemadar Inder Singh Negi, Int Section, (Retd Hony Capt)
Naik Balam Singh Negi, Int Section (Retd Major)
Naik RCS Gusain, Int Section, (Retd Lt Col)
Naik Ram Singh Negi, Int Section, (Retd Lt Col from 3/3 GR)
Naik Kundan Singh Negi, MMG Platoon
Rfn Dhan SinghNegi, Posthumous
Rfn Bagh Singh, Posthumous

Another feature of Galabat Battle worth recording was that three brothers, of village Bangali, Dhaijuli, Pauri Garhwal, together were in the battlefield. They were:-
Warrant Officer Dalip Singh Negi, RIASC (Retd Major 1/3 GR)
Naik Ram Singh Negi, (Retd Lt Col 3/3 GR)
Rfn Dhan Singh Negi, (Posthumous)

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I have collected some unusual plants, mostly succulants. Every year I await the arrival of their blossoms. I hope you will like the flowers.

Bhutan Diary

Bhutan is a country still wrapped in nature’s cloak in almost every way. It’s impossible to describe its splendor in such limited space. The foliage of trees, covering the entire expanse as far as the eye can see is lush & thick covering almost the entire mountain range from the foothills to the tree line above which lie the summer pastures & snow covered peaks. Rarely can one see open bare patches while journeying from Phuntsoling to Thimphu, Paro or Ha. The view beyond the Himalayan watershed is that of a vast grassy Tibetan plateau, gently sloping away northwards.

Above the tree line there are vast open pastures owned solely by the powerful Dorjees of western Bhutan. Each individually owned grazing ground may be as large as the whole of Mussoorie, where the entire herds of Yak graze on the alpine vegetation, the like of which obtains in our very own Valley of Flowers. Locals of Tibetan stock are the Yak herds. Slaughter of this animal is the task of these people. The tender meat is cut into long strips & left to hang & dry. Once dry it can be eaten raw even by infants. The Yak hair is braided to make tents, headgear, upper portion of shoes, while the skin is converted into shoes. Construction of local houses, a collective social responsibility, is accompanied by singing, feasting & drinking of the heady Chhaang or rice beer. The entire double storied house is made solely of clayey soil & wood. No iron or steel is used – even in the doors. The earth for the thick wall is packed tight with the feet amidst rhythmic chanting the whole day long. The finished house is spacious, warm, waterproof & earthquake-proof. Thus nature has provided for them in every way.

A Snow Leopard Sighted
With stringent laws against hunting & fishing, Bhutan abounds in a variety of fauna. Once I was rewarded with a magnificent sight of a rare snow leopard while negotiating a high altitude mountain pass. It was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in its natural habitat. On seeing us it neither bolted nor balked. It merely gave us a side glance & leisurely ambled along without changing the direction it was going. I recall the words of a Kashmiri fur trader’s words many years back. He described the leopards as, “Khuda ka karishma! (God’s miracle)” Having seen it amidst patches of snow, meadows & alpine vegetation at this altitude I fully appreciate his powerful & apt description. Why do I term this sighting as rare? While in Bhutan I was browsing through a book written on the snow leopard. The author traveled to the upper reaches of Nepal to do precisely that & had to return failing to have sighted one! However he churned out a voluminous book on this elusive & endangered animal.

Friends of the Angle
The rivers of Bhutan, in the upper reaches, were teaming with another marvelous & highly sought after creature – the Brown Trout. Its lineage can be traced to the chalk streams of Scotland. One rare issue of the wonderful magazine “Field & Stream” carried a gem of an article on this. It revealed that a Scot was in Kashmir for trading in carpets. Seeing the suitability of Srinagar’s climate & the chalk fed streams, he undertook a successful mission to bring trout fingerlings by ship to Bombay, thence by train to Pathankot, thence by road via Abbotabad, Muzaffarabad to his bungalow in Srinagar. In his sprawling verandah he laid a series of wooden vats to allow flow of water by gravity. To ensure the desired continuous flow of fresh water, he “employed a bucket brigade of coolies”. This Brown Trout survived & was later released into the popular trout streams of Srinagar. A good deal has been written in the article about one Mr. Maqbool Butt who was the caretaker or warden. Rules were strictly enforced. The catch was restricted to five or six trout not less than a specified length. He is reported to have hauled up a few anglers from the West & several from Delhi & Bombay, which implies impounding of the angling equipment, fine & cancellation of permit. Only fly fishing was allowed. Spinning was a sin - akin to cold-blooded murder in broad daylight.

With that prelude, one can trace the journey of this trout from Srinagar to Sikkim, thanks to the Chogyal. Sikkim boasts of an excellent stock of Brown Trout in its high altitude lakes, the foremost being Manmoichu followed by Yakla & Chhangu. The footpath to Manmoichu is lined with an array of Rhododendron shrubs. At the end of the trek is a hatchery – a series of concrete tanks, for trout of varying age, from where they are released into the huge lake. It was from Sikkim, it is believed, that the King of Bhutan took the fingerlings to the streams & rivers of his kingdom. Angling was permitted once in a cycle of two years. This way the streams were abundantly stocked with fish. Lately, I learnt that all the trout in Bhutan has perished! I wonder how?

To continue with the stupendous work done by this man from Scotland, Chogyal of Sikkim, & the King of Bhutan, I too tried to contribute in a very small way by releasing trout, obtained from Srinagar’s hatchery, into a lake near Bod Bangas, as well as into the river that flows past Naugam in the Baramula sector of Srinagar.

Small Wonders
While in Bhutan I saw some amazing sights. During a patrol into the upper reaches of western Bhutan, literally under the shadow of Chomolhari, we came across a herd of mountain goats. There was no habitation till two days’ march. The locals accompanying me asked me to shoot one. Obviously, I declined & I am glad to I took that decision. At the end of this day I couldn’t resist deviating from the easy path along the valley to climb on the ridge that overlooked the Tibetan plateau I mentioned earlier. It was an exhilarating sight but the fierce cold wind that prevailed did not allow us to stay longer, as it was getting ominously fiercer by the minute, threatening to rip off our clothes. We retraced our steps back to our planned route to begin our ascent to the pass to descend to the Paro valley & lost our way. In a frantic search, a local porter exclaimed that we were indeed on the right track. In fact there was no track at all. When asked about the proof of this amazing conclusion, he pointed at the ice in the re-entrant where, in warm weather a stream flowed. There was nothing unusual about the ice except that from one end the ice had just started melting & trickling downstream – something quite natural. However our Man Friday claimed that in Bhutan this was a good sign - a good omen & therefore, he claimed, it was the right way to hurtle downhill. Who can argue against such steadfast conviction – that too in alien turf? After some difficult & trying hours, we were indeed on a comfortable route to the valley below.

Happy to have descended to the upper reaches of Paro valley, way north of Dukhye Dzong, we rested astride a stream. Shortly afterwards, a Bhutanese family, apparently headed upstream, came & halted not far from where we rested. The men lit a fire & once it was raging hot, they picked up two large stones & placed them inside it. They then went to the stream & brought water to a huge tree trunk that had been hollowed out to form a small tub. They filled it with water. The stones in the fire were removed & with the help of a thick part of their garment, they lifted each one & dropped them into the improvised tub. Viola! The chilled water of the tub was steaming hot. Meanwhile one of the women undressed & sat in this tub to take a bath. Soon others too followed suit amazing us with their simplicity & ingenuity. At the end of it they doused the fire. Apparently this was a traditional site for halting to bathe the fatigued limbs of the mountain dwellers.

Dukhye Dzong
About an hour’s drive from Paro, is Dukhye Dzong. As one moves along the valley from Paro, the valley becomes narrower & narrower. At the same time the sides of the valley become steeper & steeper. I had heard that there was a monastery perched precariously atop sheer 1000 feet vertical cliff. So, I sought permission to do so & was luckily granted it. On arriving at Dukhye Dzong road-head, one has to gaze at the northern slopes that rise steeply forming a vertical rock face which at places is concave! Just strain your neck a little more, backwards please. Above all this is a huge monastery – Taksang Gompa. Those afflicted by vertigo may end their journey here & meet me later. Beyond & above Taksang Gompa the tree line ends & I was told that there was another monastery higher up. I will take you there too but first let’s climb up to Taksang Gompa. I had to go alone as my companion, my cousin, Biju Negi, had sprained his ankle. Not wanting to leave him alone for long, I promised him that I would be back in a jiffy. Biju gave me his camera to take along assuming that I was familiar with its operation. Leaving some tea & biscuits with him I left.

Assuming myself to be possessing unlimited stamina, I sprinted uphill till the gradient was good. This was contrary to the advice of a seasoned Mountaineer & Everester Mr. HCS Rawat who was at that time posted at Thimpu in the Indian Embassy, who advocated selecting a gradient no sharper than 30 degrees & a pace that does not strain one’s breath. Soon I was breathless yet I climbed at a furious pace. Almost at the top of the ascent I was pleased to see a small village. Here onwards the path became level but narrow. As I approached, what had looked like cliff from below, I saw the path further narrowed, adequate to allow on man to pass at a time. The worst was yet to come. The path suddenly disappeared around the rocky bend. Beyond, what I saw was a wide chasm, perhaps 300-400 yards wide! Had the path been swept away in landslide? There was no one nearby within ear-shot. (Soliloquy) Should I continue or turn back? I could always tell Biju that I went to the monastery but took no photographs! That would be most disappointing. But, “Is this a dead end I see before me, with the deep open chasm beckoning me? Come let me see thee. I see thee not. Yet I see thee still. Am I a victim of a heat-oppressed brain?” (Soliloquy ends). Finally, invoking Shakespeare, I continued with bated breath. A wrought iron railing was lining the path. Negotiating the blind hairpin bend was scary. I wondered how a pony could bend its body 90 degrees to go past it! A peep over the railing revealed a sheer cliff hundreds of feet beneath. The moment I negotiated the bend, I was blessed with the view of a massive structure of the Gompa, seemingly resting on a ledge. I still wonder how this place was chosen; how the material for it was taken up; how long it took to build; & how old it was. Inside, the Gompa was spacious & cool. Every place within seemed to invite me to sit & enjoy its cool ambience & fragrance of herbal incense - juniper. The Lama offered me water & some morsel to eat. I couldn’t spend as much time as I would have liked to. I had promised Biju an early return. My descent was a jog all the way.

I must mention here that while on my way up, I messed with the camera thereby exposing the entire colored reel to the sun. With that, all photographs of our trek from Ha to Chalai La – Paro – Dukhye Dzong & Taksang Gompa (as seen from the road below) were lost. Skeptics may take this an alibi for rendering no evidence. I sincerely apologize to the believers.

On another occasion I ventured beyond Taksang Gompa. The tree line is a short distance above the Gompa. Thereafter, the view is a grand feast for the beholder. The gradient is gentle; the entire hillside is covered with lush green grass & flowers including anemones; the air is crispy cool & the sky, if you are lucky is blue. Soon I came across yak grazing, a few clean shaven female monks working outside a small double storied house. I heard someone call out, “Hmmmm, Pacca sahib, Pacca sahib!” It came from a friendly round cherubic face quite akin to that of “The Laughing Buddha statues”. We were invited inside. A narrow wooden ladder took me to the first floor. I spoke no Bhutanese & he spoke no Hindi or English. Hence we got along reasonably well. Things got much better when he offered me his Guru’s blessing – it was milky white liquid. Why don’t I call it by its proper name? Well, it was Chhaang. Thereafter we communicated better- at least I did! After many last ones & not to forget “one for the road”, we bid a heart-breaking adieu the like of which one sees outside any pub. I trudged further beyond, a short distance to witness another majestic view.

We reached an open patch that commanded a glorious & unrestricted view of the entire Paro Valley. Who was that Greek or Roman who stood on a hill top & uttered something immortal? Will someone prompt me? Anyway, the cumulative effect of the brew & the view, rhyme unintended, was intoxicating. If you ever plan to visit Bhutan, don’t ever miss out on visiting Taksang Gompa & this commanding platform. (There is added attraction for tipplers!). A tip for the tourist – Look for an L shaped pony to take the final hairpin bend!

Ta Dzong
On the eastern slopes of Paro Valley, is an imposing monument. It is not as big as other Dzongs, yet it is very prominent, commanding the entire valley. It could have served as a fortress in the past. Today it is a museum displaying ancient coats of armor, weapons etc. When I visited it, I was told frightening tales about this Dzong, serving for some time as a prison. What was most petrifying was the knowledge that the inmates of this Dzong feasted on human flesh! Quite incredible! Much later, when I read about such practice amongst the Buddhist of Tibet, in the book “Tibet – A Chronicle of Exploration” by John MacGregor, I tend to believe what I heard. It was first reported by a Franciscan ascetic Friar William, the Flemish friar of Rubruck, who was chosen by King Louis IX as the next emissary to the Mongols in1253. He ventured forth with the knowledge that the Tibetan people were of a habit of eating their parents upon death. This custom, the Friar attributed to piety, that “they should not give their parents any other sepulchre than their bowels”. He also observed that Tibetans ‘made handsome cups of the skulls of their parents, so when they drink out of them while merrymaking, they may have their parents well in mind.’ Later, Odoric, yet another Franciscan ascetic, with his imagination or credulity notes: “… & so he (the son) takes his (dead) father’s head, & straightaway cooks it & eats it; & of the skull he maketh a goblet, from which he & all his family always drink devoutly to the memory of the deceased father.” This may have been the practice those days. However, it is common knowledge that corpses are expertly dismembered on some venerated hilltop to be devoured by eagles, ravens, kites & other carnivorous birds. In Bhutan, I learnt form the locals, the dead after dismemberment are tied in the fetal position for birds to devour. I was comfortably assured that the cannibalistic practice was only confined to Ta Dzong long back & was no more prevalent. Notwithstanding the aforementioned notes of Christian travelers, Ta Dzong definitely deserves a visit.

Apples of Paro
One cannot do adequate justice to Paro without paying tribute to its apple orchards. One has to get off the main road & to see to believe that one of the finest varieties of the ‘Delicious’ apples are grown in abundance here. Luckily, the entire valley is free form the most damaging factors that spell ruin for the apple grower. Firstly, there are no monkeys. These primates not only tear apart the delicate & carefully trained & nursed branches, but also pluck almost all fruits & discard each after a superficial bite! Secondly, parrots, migrating or otherwise, are not to be seen. Thirdly, this area is free from the scourge of hailstorm. As a result, the apples are free from any blemish that otherwise adversely affect their commercial value. Fourthly, since forests are in abundance & so is the food for the wild game. Consequently, deer rarely visit the orchards. This shy creature, i.e. the Barking Deer as well as the Sambhar that feed only on the delicate bark of the trees do not foray into human habitation. The most striking feature of this apple is its color. At first sight one would conclude that it is black, whereas, in fact it is dark maroon! These apples are full of juice & could easily qualify to the title of the best ‘Delicious’ apples. If ever you visit Western Bhutan seek these rare apples.

Bongde Farm – Paro
If you are fond of gardening, you must not forget to visit Bongde Farm, which lies on the way to the Paro airfield when you are traveling from the Confluence to Paro. It lies within Paro Valley. One outstanding feature of this farm is that it is solely managed by a highly reticent Japanese man, married to a Bhutanese. One sees such high – tech farms in Pune, though not in northern India. This farm is fully equipped with its own lab for tissue culture to produce an array of hybrid seeds. One would have loved to inter-act with him but he has no time for idle gossip. Anyway, you are welcome to go around & appreciate his work.

His crops grow indoors as well as outdoors. I have seen huge watermelons growing at Bongde. At another patch I saw a stack of freshly harvested garlic enough to feed the needs of western Bhutan for a year. Assorted varieties of vegetables were growing here. What fascinated me were the tomatoes growing inside a greenhouse. Healthy plants grew in elevated beds. The strong stalks were supported on vertical & horizontal Aluminum pipe structure. The branches had been trained to ensure there was no bunching & that each stem obtained adequate amount of light & air. On the branches hung bunches of large red tomatoes. (We at Ha were at the mercy of our own guy who sent us our weekly provision of vegetables at inflated rates! God forgive him for he knew not what he was doing). I always wanted to replicate this project in my home in, Dehra Dun & Garhwal so that my people too have access to vegetables all year round. Alas, I have yet to find the funds for this project. But, learning from Bongde, & from the library books & private kitchen gardens of Newcastle, UK, I learnt the fine art of harvesting an abundant crop of tomatoes in my own small kitchen garden.

It is here that the local mushroom, Chanterelle is collected & canned for export as well as local consumption. I purchased some cans for myself. Beware – in case the can appears bloated DO NOT even open it leave aside cooking it. It will be rotten. Same will the case be if you find the smell akin to “a garbage truck, run over a skunk near a wood-pulp factory!” Save these two exceptions, go ahead & enjoy the dish.

Finally, do pick up a smattering of Japanese. You might be awarded an audience with this man, who over the years may have become more gregarious, though with age the reverse may be the case!

Mushrooms
Our library in Ha was well stocked with books. One useful book I found was on mushrooms. Since Bhutan has a variety of wild mushrooms, I naturally took keen interest in this subject. I put this knowledge to good use in a two day trek I planned from Ha – Chalai La (pass) – Paro – Thimpu. After crossing Chalai La we passed through a thickly wooded area. Here we came across some men of Nepalese descent. One was carrying something in a handkerchief. When asked he revealed that it was edible mushroom. I asked him to show it to me. It was just like Ripand Hydnam. In fact it was Ripand Hydnam. After some brief bargaining I had my dinner in my bag. Major (retd Colonel) RS Singh, Capt (retd Brig) RP Nautiyal, & Capt (now a General Officer) PC Kharbanda swore not to partake in this meal. Arriving at the Border Roads Officers’ Mess I handed over the mushrooms to the cook with necessary instructions. He threatened to desert service but would not cook this poisonous “chyoon”. With great deal of cajoling he complied & the dish was on the table. My three companions swore that I would die frothing & writhing in pain but, in the same breath agreed to eat the victuals in the morning for breakfast - if I survived. I have never seen anyone intently watching the first; second, third & several other morsels of mushroom enter my mouth & gullet. As far as they were concerned, they had already drafted an appropriate epitaph for me. I finished half the dish with great relish & slept soundly while my friends spent a sleepless night. Needless to say, I survived & they ate the victuals during breakfast. Had I known about the local Bhutanese remedy for mushroom poisoning I would never eat any – edible or otherwise.

Poisonous Mushrooms & Local Emetics
On returning to Ha, I narrated the story to my friend Capt Sonam Thondup, of the Royal Bhutan Army. He told me that a similar foolish act had been committed by a local who actually ate poisonous mushroom. The local remedy was quickly prepared & poured into his gullet. It was fresh human excreta diluted with water! All the contents of the patient’s stomach were emitted & he survived with the distinction of having toasted his meal of mushrooms with you know what!

While at Paro, I asked a wise old Bhutanese whether it was safe to eat mushroom that I picked from the hillside. He confidently gave me a mantra to dispel the poison, if any, from the mushroom. He said, “Pahle kuch bhi naam de do – phir khaa lo”. I would do no such foolish thing. He did not tell me what I would have to drink after eating poisonous ones! Nevertheless, I knew that the famous & delicious, saffron/yellow colored mushroom, “Chanterelle” ( pronounced Shan-ta-ra-lay) of France & Switzerland, picked & tinned for local & overseas consumption, was growing abundantly wild all over the hillside around Paro. Even then I complied with the local sage’s advice & called it by its name Chanterelle, while picking them. I was keen to explore if the famed Gucci, Morchella Esculanta, found in the upper reaches of Kashmir’s Pir Panjal Range, as well as in the upper reaches of Naugam – Barkot (en route to Jamnotri), grew in Bhutan. Unfortunately I couldn’t as that was not the reason why I was posted in Bhutan! Anyway I passed on this valuable knowledge to the Queen Mother’s brother, Dasho Rimp, handing him a copy of a rare copy on the National Geographic that carried a full page picture of the delicious & highly priced mushroom. Dasho is a form of addressing elevated people in Bhutanese society. I too was addressed thus!

Archery
Memories of Bhutan are so heady that one easily forgets the original purpose of writing! I started off with the aim of writing about the Lunana Valley & look how I have taken myself & the weary reader astray. There is yet another very interesting event, a recreation, that absorbs the Bhutanese & that is Archery. The commoner like me & my team used bamboo bows & arrows. The skilled craftsman was always a man of Tibetan descent. He was an expert in aerodynamics. The superior arrows had Himalayan Monal’s (Lophophorus Impeyanus) tail feathers at the back, while the ordinary ones had chicken feathers. He would visually inspect the shaft again & again till the spectator was fed up & he himself was fully satisfied. Thence he would place the shaft to balance on his left thumb nail & with the other hand give it a spin. The result was amazing! The arrow would spin perfectly in a horizontal position balanced just on his thumb nail! This test meant that the arrow would fly true. In this manner he manufactured his arrows. A word about the part of the feather used is necessary. You are aware that feathers have a broad side as well as a narrow one. Well it is the narrow side that is carefully removed & stuck with some black local adhesive to the tail of the arrow. A small part below the nock was wrapped in colorful thread to distinguish it from any other arrow. The making of a bow is equally interesting & we will omit it here to allow the reader to visit Bhutan to see for himself/herself how it is done.

Once the hardware is ready, you are ready for the game. Actually it is a form of betting like in Golf where each point carries Rs 50. Two teams assemble. Two wooden targets are placed 162 yards apart. Each member shoots one of the two arrows followed by the opponent after which they shoot the second arrow. This way the two teams take turns alternately. If the arrow gets embedded within one arrow distance of the target it earns one point. It’s called a Daya. If the opponent’s arrow embeds closer, then that point is negated & the opponent scores one point instead. If an arrow strikes the target, which it does with a resounding “Thokk” it’s called a “Kaari”. At this the other members of this team, led by the shooter run up a few paces screaming, “Wholululululululu….. Taaaaaaa Huiiiiiiiiiii”. It irritates the other team no end. This screaming is accompanied by a dance with hands raised & each leg alternately lifted revealing their smooth muscular thighs! And so points are scored & nullified the whole day long. The match continues for three or more days. Gallons of Whisky, Rum, Beer & finally Chaang are consumed. Dawn gives way to dusk when the contest is withheld for the day. Money changes hands at the end of the contest. Incidentally, the Royal Bhutan Army as well as the Royal Bhutan Guard uses sophisticated imported fiber glass bows & arrows for these contests. Some even use Compound Bows, which I feel is highly unfair!

Lunana Valley
Such is the variety in beauty & splendor of Bhutan’s nature & rich culture. However there are several areas where outsiders do not venture or are not allowed to do so. In fact there are areas that many Bhutanese may not have visited at all. One such place is called the Lunana Valley. It lies plumb at the highest reaches of Central Bhutan. How can we venture here without an appropriate prelude? The reader may tarry awhile for a paragraph or two & we shall resume our journey.

Over the years, events may have got blurred; hence I may be pardoned if a few inaccuracies occur. Many many moons back, when Tibetans were granted refuge in India & other countries, i.e. pre & post 1959, a certain European, a Swiss traveling in his car in Switzerland saw a man in Tibetan attire thumbing for a lift. The good man stopped his car & asked the latter where he wanted to be dropped. That done, the journey continued. At the end of the journey the man alighted & thanked the Swiss profusely. Before leaving he told the latter that he, the person who was given the kind lift was actually the King of Bhutan, on a visit to Switzerland for medical treatment! Therefore, in return for this kind gesture, the King invited this gentleman & his wife to visit Bhutan & be his royal guests. This was a rare invitation as Bhutan was a forbidden country! Who would miss this opportunity? So, the royal guests arrived & this is what the King shared with them. The king, who came from the Wangchuk clan of Central Bhutan, was concerned about sudden devastating flash floods in the Mo Chhu (Mother River) & Pho Chhu (Father River) that united near his ancestral home. These rivers were thus a cause for yearly grief to Central Bhutan. The King wanted this couple to investigate its cause. So far no foreigner ever stepped inside Bhutan, & here were two Europeans invited to go into the most remote & forbidden territory! This is where I beckon the reader to the Lunana Valley after a short but necessary digression

I must confess that I, though very keen, was not given due permission by my own organization. (My request was misconstrued as a ruse by me to be away from my place of work to earn some extra Traveling/Dearness Allowance). Anyway, dear reader, to Lunana we shall go now accompanying these guests of none other than the King of Bhutan. Elaborate arrangements were made as the route was treacherous & extremely hazardous. After all, Lunana Valley was perched at the very top, like a crown on the proud head of Bhutan. The only way to enter it is through one solitary pass, perhaps well over 17,125 feet Rinchenzoa Pass, that was open for just a few months, sometime in October-November when the rains clear the snow that otherwise seals Lunana Valley for the rest of the year! Apart from this, the only way up was along the course of one of the two rivers, Mo Chhu/ Pho Chhu. This is easier said than done. These river courses were deep with steep gorges. A misplaced step would send one hurtling headlong into the frothy water below to be swept away miles downstream in a flash – the same horrible way the barefooted Hindu pilgrims, en route to Badrinath, “wound their way up the Himalayan slopes. Sometimes the path as it clung to the sheer face of towering canyon walls narrowed to inches. The travelers were compelled to edge carefully by these dangerous stretches, gripping the rock where they could to avoid losing their balance & plunging to their death in the rushing Ganga far below”, as described in John MacGregor’s book “Tibet, A Chronicle of Exploration”.

In these perilous circumstances, the expedition ventured forth & vividly described nature’s beauty along the route. Finally the pass was crossed & they entered the forbidden Lunana Valley. The altitude of the valley was 13,000 ft. There was no trace of civilization as we perceive it. There was no machinery, chemicals, pesticides or even basic medicines. All the inhabitants were exceptionally healthy – free from the nagging ailments that bedevil us city dwellers. This was one of the terms of reference that the King spelt out to his guests. How is it that the locals survive, nay thrive without any conventional medical care? Friends, Bhutan, as it is today is perhaps enjoys the purest of environment. What about the Lunana Valley? It must be paradise.

The locals in this valley kept sheep & cattle. Their short cropping season was at the stage for harvesting. Their water was the purest. Their food was simple & most significant of all, tension or stress was unheard of. Life followed the rules of nature. If my memory serves me well, one of the guests was a Doctor sent with the mission to seek answers relating to health care of the locals. The locals, as discovered by the couple, needed no medical care. In fact the environment prevailing was of pure bliss. Having dwelt on this matter long enough, we will explore the cause of devastating floods in the course of Mo & Pho Chhu.

The expedition examined the entire course of the river for the possible cause of floods. They were fed by melting glaciers. In the very highest reaches of the river course, the banks consisted of loose rocks or scree, and often entire hillsides came cascading down impounding the water flow. Thus the formation of temporary lakes was an ongoing process – some harmless & others likely to burst over a period of time, something like several mini Birahi Taals or Gauna Lakes of Chamoli district. It was the formation, gradual or rapid filling & bursting of such lakes that caused devastation all along the course of Mo Chhu up to Punakha & beyond. After having been jolted by a severe earthquake within my first month of stay at Ha, I am inclined to believe that such tremors too could be contributing towards the breach of these highly unstable high altitude lakes.

Having mentioned tectonic tremors, I must share a unique experience at Ha. At about midnight, all of a sudden it became ominously quiet. Then as though in an orchestrated fashion, all the dogs in the Ha valley together started to wail. They were not barking but wailing or howling. A few minutes after the whole valley were rattled as though something monstrously big was being dragged beneath the earth from one end to the other. Yes, we witnessed the fantastic sixth sense & ability of animals, especially dogs to perceive an earthquake giving you adequate time to scramble outdoors.

The expedition to Lunana had to make haste to undertake the return journey as closure of the pass would imply imprisonment there till next year! On returning, the King was apprised of the findings & the possible remedial or precautionary measures that could be taken to protect life & property.

I am not sure who these guests were. I have always been inclined to believe that they were Hugh & Colleen Gantzer. I hope someone will correct me on this matter. Now that I have mentioned these names, I must share with the reader the knowledge that they are outstanding photographers. I have browsed through their book consisting of breathtaking colored photos of high altitude lakes – placid & blue. As I conclude this piece, I cannot help gazing at another photograph in my room, of a placid blue lake & sky under which is written a quote from my dear & revered Guruji:-

“Calmness is the living breath of God’s immortality in you”.
Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda
Indeed, if you seek sublime peace & tranquility, do visit Bhutan.

Surveyors, Geologists & Environmentalists Wanted

By Rajendra Rawat
I hope all readers of Garhwal Post read what Dr Nitin Panday writes. I for one do so with great pleasure. Why? He opens up interesting dimensions on raging issues. For instance, in one of his articles he revealed that not all capitals of some countries or states were chosen after deliberations on technical matters. I was astonished to read that some were chosen on sentimental grounds while some by simple application of rudimentary geometry! In no way is it being suggested that the same be applied for Uttarakhand. I fully endorse his view that appropriate technical expertise be part of development projects. Now he writes about roads of Uttarakhand. Dr Panday says, “Geologists must compulsorily be hired by the Contractor for the entire project”. Roads, in the hill region of Uttarakhand will continue to be white elephants for the State as they will cry for heavy & perpetual maintenance, while the beneficiaries will be laughing all the way to their banks unless Geologists are incorporated – at least in the planning stage. One who has not ventured often into Uttarakhand’s interior may not appreciate this suggestion – neither will the Contractors & those in cahoots with them.
Contractor Accountability is not a new concept. A system of Third Party Inspection, too, is followed. Currently National Highways under construction & externally aided roads opt for this. Seeing the quality of work executed on Uttarakhand roads, coupled with lack of accountability, it may be prudent to introduce this concept. Of course, every service comes with a price tag. Every penny spent will be worth it. Let’s pioneer this change in our fledgling state. Let Uttarakhand be the second state to plan introduction of Mobile Testing Vans after Bihar. If the latter option is prohibitive, let us devise effective means to ensure Contractor Accountability.
Take a trip to Deoprayag, especially in your own car. Shortly after passing Rishikesh you will travel agonizingly unto Shivpuri & Kudiyala. Why should you care? It’s because we, the citizens of Uttarakhand, are beckoning tourists, Indian & foreigners to (please) visit the Land of Gods. The road is being widened. That’s good news. The hillside is prone to landslides every monsoon. That’s bad news. I have seen this stretch since1965. The hillside consists of loose rocks & boulders bound together by the vegetation now scarce. Dozers & explosives had speeded up the construction but, as Dr Panday writes, explosives have shaken up the fragile system that prevented landslides, soil erosion & consequently floods in the riparian region. Often trees, unable to hold their majestic height, weight & canopy come crashing down, blocking the narrow road for hours, frustrating the erstwhile exuberant tourists. Yes, if geologists were an important part of the project, the roads would have been several shades better, albeit more expensive. Does anyone care? If it was mandatory for the Contractor to maintain the road, at his own expense, for at least 5 years, (as suggested by Dr Pandey) due care would have been exercised at the very construction stage.
Go past Karanprayag en route to Gwaldam. Take care if you are travelling during the Monsoon. The entire hillside at one place is slipping – like Varunavat. Here in the 60s, my father had a providential escape. He crossed a stretch of this road just in time to look back & see that the entire road behind him had sunk up to the Pindar River! While driving, you will appreciate the unstable nature of this stretch of hillside. Have a good look at it. Could such an alignment be avoided? In one case it could not be avoided. That is the road short of Kohima, capital of Nagaland. Why? The Japanese advance had to be rolled back. The last battle was fought at the Tennis Court. There was overwhelming military expediency. The planners & builders of Uttarakhand roads faced no such expediency.
I have met a few geologists & surveyors here. Surely there are more & maybe far more eminent, present in Uttarakhand. Their experience ought to be utilised in the planning & execution of large projects in the hills. The present Chief Minister is himself an engineer of vast experience. Of course he cannot bear the yoke himself. He must seek these experts and in turn they must rise to offer their assistance. Roads must be built on sound geological survey, and not based on factors like sentiments and political appeasement of say village Rikholi, because they voted for X party, & not Kundil because they voted for Y party. Unfortunately such factors often clinch the issue. After all, the local MLA deems himself fit to over-rule any kind of geological or geomorphologic hindrance!
There are many more examples where development challenged nature only to be humiliated. There is an odd good example, too. I remember Brother Gannon of St George’s Mussoorie ( now quite blind & in his 90s) telling me that the Engineer in charge of the present Doon – Mussoorie road came up to the site of work every single day of the calendar to oversee the trace cutting & subsequent work. He was all praise for that man’s work & even said that he did not recall a single day when the traffic was held up on account of landslides or sinking of roads. This masterpiece continues to delight us even today. When you drive on this road, do thank that man for his work. Also thank late Darshan Lal who, with his own funds constructed one mile of road up to Kincraig. (No thanks to those responsible for limestone quarrying since the early 50s. If they were not reigned in, probably Library would have slipped down to Kincraig. Someone made a killing in the quarrying, while much later the TA Battalion laboured hard to restore the hillside and probably the Government paid far more in terms of financing the battalion. Does it make any sense? X exploits, Y is employed and labours while Z pays out of tax payers’ coffers.
Dr Satendra’s book, “Disaster Management in The Hills” should be the Bible for all planning of major projects in Uttarakhand. In brief, he highlights how Development can lead to Destruction if planning does not heed to the geological and geomorphologic factors and preservation of ecological environment. (“Development & vulnerability are inextricably linked” he writes). Catering to preservation of our ecological environment is as vital as the other two factors. A small illustration will highlight the pitfalls in its neglect.
Most of us have been to Dhanaulti. I have been going there since the 60s. It has majestic Deodar trees nestling the steep northern slopes. At Dhanaulti, there are green meadows, not too large but adequate to invite you to spread your mat for a picnic, or pitch a small tent for camping. All that still exists but today, the meadows are littered with polythene and other non-biodegradable trash. The stench of “mule dooly” welcomes you. In the heart of the small market, a desire to have a refreshing cup of tea is rewarded with dish water adequately sweetened. Perched on a roof top your panoramic view of the tree tops must be restricted lest it trespass the modesty of genteel ladies making their way downhill to the best cover available to ease themselves.(Men not mentioned – no modesty). The resultant stench is a combination of “mule & human dooly”. Five to ten years down the line you may not want to enter Dhanaulti at all. Perhaps, this is what Dr Pandey meant when he wrote that disaster can strike if development is not accompanied by protection of environment.
I would like to go further to say that environmental protection must precede development. The Uttarakhand Tourism Ministry may or may not have added to their bottom line through tourism. The cost of cleaning up Dhanaulti will empty their coffers. They will be solely responsible for the environmental degradation. Where is the garbage of its hotels and that of all private hotels and shops being disposed? Obviously behind the plush façade of buildings for the “Maha Nature Nigam” karamcharis, i.e. wind, rain and gravity to take it all out of sight. Mussoorie and all hill stations and tourist spots are facing such devastating onslaught of man’s indiscretion. As regards attitude by citizens of Doon as to where their household garbage is going and its efficient disposal (if any), adequacy or inadequacy of trenching grounds, the less said the better. We all have witnessed it when we visit Paltan Bazaar early enough in the day. Garbage is swept by shopkeepers up to the centre of the road from either side. What happens next is not their concern. Plying two wheelers whip up the dirt and dust while some shoppers lick their ice cream cones at the road side. This is exactly what is happening in Doon on a larger scale. (At some propitious time I will describe to you what lies in the compound of late Advocate Raneshwar Singh, brother of Hollywood villain KN Singh, who was chased up the Howrah Bridge by Dev Anand in the movie, merely 600 to 800 yards from the MNA office.)
Coming back to the subject of roads, Dr Satendra states that 60,000 cubic meters of soil is displaced for every kilometer of road. That would amount to a cube approximately 40x 40x40 meters. Debris removal of 16,654 kms of roads of Uttarakhand is mind boggling. This is not all. After all this debris is removed, which is unavoidable, it is the undesired soil erosion due to landslides that may be accounting for similar quantity of loss of soil/land. Proper technical advice by surveyors and geologists will mitigate the loss of valuable topsoil and vegetation, as also it will minimise the cost of avoidable maintenance and disruption of traffic. One does see some effort to arrest land slippage and tumbling rocks. Mere plantation of Agaves on the roadside or upper slopes is not adequate. Much more needs to be done to mitigate varied forms of destruction that follows road construction in the terrain obtaining in Uttarakhand.
There are many breathtaking locations crowning the very top of the otherwise barren hillsides, as yet not popularly known and exploited. I visited one such location recently. Amongst majestic deodars we lunched alone, in peace that one craves for in the city. We collected all our garbage and brought it home for disposal. This will be a rule with us rather than an exception. However, while driving down from Mussoorie we were enraged to see a speeding DLC Tata Indica car occupants, young lads, flinging two empty Bisleri bottles on the “Jalebi Bends”, below the old Toll Barrier! Mercifully, we didn’t catch up with them as we were aware of road rage consequences and the speed with which lethal weapons are whipped out and used with impunity by affluent occupants of such registered vehicles.
Should one disclose these untouched locations to the Airlines’ magazines & later see them listed in the itinerary of Tourism which has become a synonym for degradation of environment? Let these pristine and sublime locales enjoy their freedom as long as they can, OR till we humans can evolve a harmonious balance between man and nature.
Is one asking for too much? Don’t go too far to seek models to emulate. Just visit Himachal Pradesh to see how the locals and Administration can create paradise you would like to visit again and again. As a parting shot I would like to mention that there is a tourist spot Matheran, in Maharashtra where one has to walk; where no automobiles of any sort are allowed; where there is no garbage. One cannot help quoting another example from the same state. With the attitudinal change, the locals have converted a littered place into a clean one. Perhaps our hill stations are demanding this change in attitude from us - a similar change for the good. Perhaps other spots planned to be developed by Uttarakhand Tourism need to keep automobiles well away from the naturally beautiful spots. Why not start from Mussoorie. Stop vehicular traffic on the Mussoorie Mall.

                                                     Secretary Sahib – Late Udai Singh Rawat of Dehra Dun                      

     There may still be some citizens whose attachment with Doon date back to the 1950s, or even earlier. I was five years when we moved into Jayal Flats as tenants in 1952 till we settled permanently at Race Course in 1955. Even at that young age, some personalities created an indelible image in my impressionable mind. One was an Anglo-Indian police officer. He was tall & wiry, dressed in immaculate Khaki bush-shirt, shorts, stockings, garter flashes & boots. His impressive look was topped with a Solar Toupee. He looked straight ahead while riding a cycle & in retrospect, it seemed as though he was a Jailor or was stationed at the Kutchery. Under his arm, even while he cycled, he carried a short cane. The other was an aged lady who moved in with her family of at least two daughters & three sons from the newly formed Pakistan. She was a Sikh widow who efficiently tended her buffalo & grown up children. Her eldest son went to JSW, eldest daughter became a Doctor, Jangi went on to own Doon Fancy Store in Paltan Bazaar, while one son owns “Impressions” on Subhash Road. All this was under the care of their mother who walked daily to deliver lunch to her children in tiffins neatly wrapped in white cloth. The grand old lady had a glowing rosy complexion that went well with her white salwar kameez.

     There was yet another personality whose challenges in life, dress & glowing complexion complemented that of the two personalities mentioned earlier.    He was Secretary Sahib – so he was called by all, young & old. Though we ought to have referred to him Mamaji or Tauji, since Uncleji had not yet come into fashion then, we all referred to Shri Udai Singh Rawat as Secretary Sahib. Precisely why he was called thus, & what was he Secretary of, one did not know. But, the way he was seen & respected all over Doon, one surmised that he was indeed a very important functionary of Dehra Doon. It was quite evident that he had acquired exceptionally superior genes & values from his parents. Only, perhaps Thakur Kishan Singh, who was an Advocate & an MP, who claimed his lineage to the royal family of Tehri, could match the health & eternal youth that Secretary Sahib possessed. I saw the former, i.e. Thakur Kishan Singh in his twilight years. His youth had taken leave of him. However, Secretary Sahib, till his last day had an impeccable complexion & aura that many in the present times, in the business of modeling for facial lotions & creams would envy. With the changing weather of Doon in which its residents also bloom & wilt, Secretary Sahib was evergreen fresh in his looks.    

     Like the Anglo Indian police officer, Secretary Sahib to wore a Solar Toupee during the summers. He sported a thick mop of white hair. His appearance was always neat no matter what time of the day it was. As I grew up, & for a short while roamed all over Doon with nothing to do, like all young boys do, I was often surprised to see him at the most unexpected places. I always feared that he didn’t carry a good impression of me on this account because, as expected, I rarely found any convincing reason to be where I was. Nevertheless he spoke to me with great affection whenever we met.    Secretary Sahib was business-like in his dealings. He had little time for idle gossip or for carousing over a cup of tea. He always came with a mission &, after having conveyed what he had to, left for the next task in hand. He was an indispensable person on all important occasions. Everyone seemed to know him & expressed high regard for him. I never saw him imbibing spirits. That’s strange indeed. I wonder if he ever did. If he did, like his other hilly compatriots, his children would not have been what they are today. Not only did he have to perform the role of a bread earner, as a father, but he had to also perform the role of a mother too – a daunting role indeed with eight energetic & growing children. Yet, all were well fed though some appeared a bit too overfed! All studied in St. Thomas’ High School & went on to earn fame & manifest the values of their industrious father.    Once in while he was seen in his antique jalopy that was a petrol-guzzler, emerging out the Chukkhu Mohalla Road into Rajpur Road. Cars were rare on Doon roads those days. The only other cars seen were carrying red name plates of the states of Jind, Nalagarh, Nahan, Patiala, Sirmoor etc. Secretary Sahib’s jalopy was a vintage compared to other cars. With its top cruising speed, the tonga wallas were quite delighted & comfortable with Secretary Sahib’s car. The only problem for the pedestrians was the horn that was not very different from the hand blown horn of the tongas!    On one occasion his eldest son tried to race this car to its limit of maneuverability & in the process keeled over upside down. He, the son, being a physically strong lad, pushed it upright, started the ignition & drove off! I wonder if he ever confessed this commission. Anyway, kudos to the car that neither suffered any visible damage, nor inflicted any on the driver.     What was the secret of his good health? I knew little about his early morning, late evening routine or even his dietary habits. What I did notice was his fondness for construction work. During the peak of Doon summer season, I who once again had no valid reason to be loitering in Curzon Road, Dalanwala, saw Secretary Sahib standing on the berm of the narrow road, umbrella in hand. He was supervising the construction of a culvert & wouldn’t trust anyone else to do what seems to be a rudimentary job! This was a small example of what he did & enjoyed. I also know that he would hear no nonsense from his elder son, who was himself holding a fairly exalted military rank, & undertook the construction of his son’s house in the manner Secretary Sahib deemed fit. Likewise, I am told, he supervised the construction of almost all his children’ houses. Apparently, he thoroughly enjoyed this vocation as a hobby, or was this a motivating force to keep fit & going on & on till all his fledglings were safely ensconced in nests of their own? Perhaps the latter is true.   
     With Secretary Sahib’s passing away, yet another prominent & revered citizen of Doon & a devoted father entered the haloed portals of Doon’s beloved personalities of yesteryears.

(Written 8 Nov- 11 Nov 2007)

Sometimes past scripts remain in ethereal state, tucked into memory, only to be materialized as an article or a book when prodded by pleasant or disturbing events. The recent revelation of the Prime Minister’s Relief Fund has nudged my memory. While part of this Fund is alleged to have transformed into ether, my own memory of the Orissa Cyclone has done the reverse; hence the materialization of this piece on a first hand experience of the events.
I was the Sub Area Commander of Bihar & Orissa awaiting departure for Nagaland – my new assignment - when there was speculation whether the cyclone was headed for Bangla Desh or Orissa. As events unfolded, the stage was set for coastal Orissa. It happened on 29/30 Oct 1999. The Super Cyclone had struck with unprecedented fury. As per the Standing Operating Procedure the local Divisional Commander was ordered to mobilize his formation for immediate Relief & Rescue. He asked me to assist him. I agreed, but asked him to seek the clearance from Lucknow & also to provide me a helicopter & I would be with him in Ranchi within an hour. This was done & I arrived at Ranchi where the IAF aircrafts were loaded & in readiness for take off. Bad weather prevented our departure that day. None of us had ever handled a disaster before; this one was of immense magnitude & multi - dimensional.
It was late in the afternoon when the scene of devastation unfolded as the aircraft circled over Bhubaneshwar. Water engulfed most of the land. The landscape looked more like Bangla Desh or Bihar during the rainy season. The Bay of Bengal seemed to have extended its reach deep into Jagatsinghpura, Kendrapara & Bhadrak. All trees had been leveled without exception. As we came in for landing more devastation unfolded.
We were transported to the State Guest Rooms. Trees, electric & telephone poles lay strewn across the roads. At the Guest House there was no electricity, water or telephone communication. We settled down as best as we could & established contact with the Government officials as well as with Lucknow. The Control Headquarters had been established but the columns of troops were en route from Barrackpore & Ranchi. They had to pass through Bhadrak.
At night we learnt that the bridges on the highway in Bhadrak had been washed away; our first setback. The best of plans rarely work with clockwork precision. Quick assessment, flexibility, improvisation, & modification of the overall plan were going to be the hallmarks of such an operation. The columns were stranded. Some civilians had drowned while escaping the rising waters west of the highway. Far more water was expected to gush down from the hill districts in the hinterland as it was raining. Water level on both sides of the highway was rising.
Back at the State Guest House we had a candlelight dinner consisting of lumps of sticky rice & dal. We had no complaints. Administration had actually collapsed. This condition prevailed for some days while the state government grappled with multifarious problems. The incumbent Chief Secretary had flown to USA to be with his offspring during the height of this disaster!
First & foremost all means of communication had to be speedily restored. Opening up of various major & subsidiary arterial roads was vital to reach the worst hit areas. This entailed physical reconnaissance & employment of mechanical & physical effort. At the same time marooned people trapped in small hamlets would perish if relief didn’t reach on time. Their relief & rescue couldn’t wait till the roads opened. The only way to reach them was by boats & helicopters. Our infantry & engineer columns were stranded within Bhadrak, in North Orissa. Rescue & relief operation in the most critical areas was yet to commence. The situation at Bhadrak had not only stalled us but compelled the column commanders to rescue locals west of the highway to safer areas on the road. Engineer BUATs had to be launched at night, in the rain, to ferry troops across the breach. At the same time furious efforts were in progress to plug the breach. Meanwhile the rising water was threatening to breach the road at more places.
Meanwhile the Air Force & Navy too were concentrating their effort – the former in Bhubaneshwar & the latter in the coastal areas. While the relief columns were arriving I took an aerial view of the cyclone affected areas. This was most useful to allocate resources to ground judiciously & expeditiously. What I saw was a revelation that was very handy for coping with all aspects of the operation - rescue, relief, medication, politicians, media, coordination of voluntary organizations & speedy disposal of dead bodies & carcass.

Areas Devastated
The Super Cyclone and its aftermath caused "severe" damage in the districts of Jagatsinghpura, Balasore, Cuttack, Puri, Nayagarh, Jajpur Kendrapada, Bhadrak and Khurda and "moderate" damage in the districts of Mayurbhanj, Dhenkanal and Keonjhar. The worst hit was the areas that came astride the path of the cyclone – the path that looked like a typical ice hockey stick i.e. due East-West-swinging Northwestwards & back along the same path. Almost complete devastation was suffered up to the latitude of Ersama in Jagatsinghpura. Though this is a broad brush assessment of the affected areas, as per my own assessment I have classified & segmented these areas further based on the cumulative impact of tidal wave, wind & rain or part thereof.

Protocol Faux Pas
My immediate boss in the chain of command was the Area Commander at Jabalpur. I was completely out of touch with him. Here, at Bhubaneshwar my boss, the Task Force Commander, was the GOC of a Division. The day following our arrival at Bhubaneshwar, he decided to visit the breech on the highway at Bhadrak that held our troops coming by road from Barrackpore. While we were departing I learnt that the Area Commander was arriving at Bhubaneshwar by IA Flight. Not wanting to slight the Task Force Commander, I went to Bhadrak but not before deputing an officer & vehicle to receive the Area Commander. Just as I feared, they were late in arriving at the airport. It was a Faux Pas I regret. The Area Commander looked like the Vesuvius about to explode but said nothing. I apologized & explained the circumstances to him. He made adequate amends later when I departed for my next posting to Nagaland.
This was the first & last visit of the Area Commander during the operation. After retirement he headed the Disaster Management Cell in Madhya Pradesh.

Elements of Nature

One had read about the description of the cyclone. Now a bird’s eye view revealed much more. The elements that caused & multiplied the disaster were:-
(a) Oceanic waves.
(b) Wind.
(c) Rain.
(d) Night.
(e) Embankments along the coast large scale settlement of fishermen, from Andhra Pradesh, West Bengal & Bangla Desh, along the coastline in temporary hutments.

Tidal Waves
Apparently a tidal wave, believed to be 20 feet high, came crashing in over the coast driven by winds over 250 Kms per hour, in an East-Westerly direction up to halfway between Bhubaneshwar & the coastline. The devastation caused was complete almost up to Ersama. It was evident that devastation was severe near the coast & less severe towards the hinterland. Just short of Ersama, the devastation was complete with not even a trace of a village. Closer to Ersama, one could identify a village by the traces of just the foundation of dwellings. However, concrete houses, though damaged survived complete destruction.
The incoming tidal waves carried trees, hutments, cattle & humans several miles inland; simultaneously inundating the very fertile land in Jagatsinghpura with saline sea water. All fishermen dwelling on the coast, about whom the state government had no record just perished; so did the peasants in the villages inland. There was a case of a fisherman who tucked his children in a Storm Shelter & went to bring his livestock. He never came back. I came across many such surviving orphans all over the affected area. Thus, the entire population was transported miles away from their homes; their bodies strewn all over a vast area. Identification was impossible. At that stage, rescue of survivors was vital.
Thus this area was the victim of the fury of tidal waves, furious winds & inundation by saline sea water; a combination that inflicted the worst damage, both in the short & long term.
While dead bodies were randomly deposited all over the landscape, interestingly, the cattle were found lying dead in close clusters. It was evident that those cattle that were not tethered panicked & ran helter-skelter; instinctively trying to find safety together till the unforgiving fury of nature put them to permanent rest – in a group.
There was no standing tree in sight. The coconut trees whose roots are considered strong & firmly embedded, were lying like match sticks – not in the direction of the prevailing wind but in the opposite direction, i.e. towards the east. We shall explain this phenomenon shortly.
The tidal wave easily surmounted the tidal bandh astride the coast & swept all trees, structures, and livestock & humans miles inland. Only the concrete structures seemed to survive. The returning winds swept seawards but this time the bandh prevented large amount of the sea water from escaping; rendering the soil infertile & sources of water polluted.

The Wind
The effect of the wind waned as it progressed inland. Near the coast where there was no trace of habitation, one gradually saw traces of the foundation & deeper inland the thatched roofs were missing while further inland parts of the roof had been blown off. The wind had been the cause of disruption to telephone & electric poles & cables. The top canopy of trees within Bhubaneshwar had been rudely wrenched off.
The devastation due to the wind seemed to veer northwards in the vicinity of Bhubaneshwar as was evident from the tell tale marks on the ground. The direction of the wind therefore was from the sea westwards up to Bhubaneshwar & then it swung northwards towards Bhadrak by which time much of its fury had waned. Nevertheless the entire area halfway up to Bhadrak was inundated; submerging all houses almost up to the roof top. Apparently the locals were safe as they were spared from the tidal wave. Nevertheless they needed urgent rescue & relief. The inundation in Bhadrak was not due to tidal waves.
On the return flight I saw that the coconut trees revealed what actually happened. As I flew from Bhadrak towards Bhubaneshwar I saw that these trees were lying flat in a north-south direction. Near about Bhubaneshwar these prone trees had changed the direction from north-south to NW-SE & later west-east towards Ersama & beyond to the coast. It so happened that the winds blew inland from east to west & swung north, after which they blew, obviously with greater fury in the exact opposite direction. This explains the pattern made by the fallen coconut trees on the landscape. Obviously this reverse flow of wind caused the actual damage all along.
Thus it was evident that almost the districts of Jagatsinghpura & Kendrapara & only contiguous coastal areas suffered the dual onslaught of furious winds, accompanied by tidal waves, & then equally furious winds in the reverse direction; & the latter seemed to cause the major destruction. Obviously these two districts & contiguous coastal areas deserved greater attention.

Rain
The cyclone was preceded & followed by heavy rains. It was apparent that the heavy downpour was across the state. However, swiftly rising waters west of the highway astride Bhadrak indicated that the hill districts experienced very heavy cloudbursts. The rushing water from these upper tracts gave rise to sudden inundation of land not only west of the highway but also east of it. The small bridges & culverts across the road were grossly inadequate to discharge the water accumulating from the hill districts. Thus there were some cases of drowning in this area initially. What was alarming was the likelihood of the highway getting breached at numerous places as the mud filled berm were quickly eroded.
These areas in the North, i.e. Bhadrak, were flooded with rain water. However, even thatched huts though almost fully submerged were intact. Obviously, no damage was caused by the winds that apparently had lost their fury by the time they reached thus far. These areas therefore demanded rescue to safer areas by boats.

Night
Total disruption to the power supply made movement & rescue operation difficult at night. The arterial roads leading to the coast & into the coastal districts were severely damaged. Movement at night for the rescuers & rescued was hazardous. Obviously, time was of utmost importance; operations had to be pressed on - both during day & night.
It became quite clear that first the major axis & then the subsidiary feeder roads had to be made road worthy. All available army engineer effort, JCBs & Dozers of the state government, & active cooperation of able bodied locals was the need of the hour. These task forces had to be assigned their specific sectors for clearance for any meaningful rescue & relief operation. The state power & telephone staff was to be co-opted with them to simultaneously carry out restoration work. Neither locals nor government staff was available. Reasons will be explained later.

Embankments along the Coast
As mentioned earlier, there was a raised embankment all along the coastline, parallel to the sandy beach. Astride this, numerous rows of temporary shelters had been erected by the fishermen. It is not known how many perished because, as explained earlier, many were from the adjoining state of Andhra Pradesh, West Bengal & some say even from Bangla Desh. The embankment provided adequate safety from normal tidal waves but not from Cyclonic or Tsunami waves. This embankment also protected the very fertile land in Jagatsinghpura & Kendrapara. The fishermen expected the cyclone to hit Bangla Desh as was once predicted. Thus they were ill prepared & almost all except a few who took shelter inside the inadequate storm shelters perished; swept inland & drowned, or swept back into the sea with the receding wave. This embankment was to inflict yet another long term sentence – trapping the sea water inland causing salinity in the fields & all water sources.

Human Element

The reader may ponder, at this stage, what role man had to play in the resultant disaster. Disasters of varying hues strike periodically all over the world; & victims react in different manner. Initially all are paralyzed with the shock over the loss of kin, hearth & means of livelihood. However, some display resilience to quickly bounce back to help themselves or the Rescue & Relief agencies. This was not the case in Orissa.
As mentioned earlier, the Chief Secretary, for personal reasons, chose to abandon ship at a critical stage of the monumental disaster. It was he who was to execute the Disaster Management Plan; a piece of brilliant literature that occupies a number of pages; a document that only the most literate with high degree of administrative experience & acumen can produce; a document intimidating enough to make the cyclone chose some other target. The onus fell on the able shoulders of a few officials of the Department of Home. Whether the Chief Secretary’s departure was a clarion call for all to follow, one may conjecture; because almost the entire Secretariat was also abandoned as the employees headed to their respective areas to be with their kith & kin or to assess the damage. Hardly anyone was available during the initial critical days.
Likewise, even after the initial shock effect ought to have subsided, one witnessed an all pervading mood of despondency. To make matters worse, some unscrupulous elements behaved in a shocking manner. These are briefly listed as follows:-
(a) A truck carrying the very first consignment of relief was waylaid, within Bhadrak, en route to Bhubaneshwar & its contents looted in the very initial stages of relief operation, by people who were miles away from the scene of devastation.
(b) A consignment of blankets, from a foreign agency was loaded in a truck in the airport & taken out through an otherwise unused locked gate. It is not known where they went. None came to the most adversely affected areas while we were there.
(c) Some locals reported that unscrupulous elements were attempting to exploit young girls. Many such girls, especially children suddenly became orphans, vulnerable, not knowing whom to trust.
(d) The most shocking revelation was that the so called upper caste declined to physically handle their dead. A commercial aircraft was chartered to airlift safai karamcharis from the capital Delhi.
(e) A young girl, dressed in tatters, unable to cover her modesty was in Queue to take her share of clothing. The army officer, a native of Orissa, gave her a salwar kameez. She pleaded, in English, for another pair. She was a graduate. Why I mention this is that most, if not all clothing came from outside Orissa. More was needed. The local girls of major cities & towns in Orissa, living in concrete houses, contributed little either by an organized presence, or in terms of contribution towards their sisters in distress.
(f) On more than one occasion, I was accosted to send aid to the hill districts not at all affected by the cyclone. They neither suffered the tidal waves nor flooding. Yes, they did experience heavy rains strong gale & must have suffered damage to their thatched hutments. But, they were not the ones who deserved immediate assistance. Such requests were declined - politely.
(g) As the days progressed, aid kept pouring in. Locals pleaded that distribution be the responsibility of no other agency but the army. This was needed & possible up to a certain point. Civil Administration had to take over. In this period of transition, the entire cricket stadium was chock-a-block with aid. Many trucks inside the stadium were still loaded. Outside the stadium were large numbers of trucks awaiting their turn to unload. They were cursing their plight saying that they made all haste from as far as Punjab to deliver the relief material & here they were sitting idle for several days. There seemed to be no command & control. Ironically, those under genuine depredation were left clamoring for aid.
(h) What the victims of cyclone needed urgently, almost immediately, was late to come. In this the UN, NGO, & voluntary bodies failed badly. More will be said about this in subsequently in this paper.
(i) Yet another example of prevailing apathy to the suffering of fellow citizens. During the later period of our operation I met a senior officer of Orissa. He mentioned with glee that the Jagatsinghpura-wallas were served right by fate. They, the Jagatsinghpuris, haughtily spoke of their vast tracts of fertile agricultural land & fied upon others of other districts. The truth was that those arrogant landlords lived mostly in Bhubaneshwar; the land was tilled by peasants- these laborers were the ones who perished!

Rescue & Relief by the Army, Navy & Air Force

I have seen that the Air Force is always at the scene of action before anyone else. As usual, in Orissa too, they were not hampered by impediments on ground. Their presence was palpable on ground at Bhubaneshwar & in the air over Orissa. Obviously, they were flying the VIPs over Orissa & continued to do so even during the height of our operations. I too had a VIP visit from Lucknow, my Army Commander who knighted me as the Deputy Task Force Commander! Thus, I wore two hats; one of a Sub Area Commander & the other of the Task Force.

Allocation of Resources to Task

Allocation of available resources had to be carried out judiciously in such an operation. There was no room for error; once committed resources could not be re-allocated without its associated detrimental effects. Sectors & Sub-Sectors were demarcated & tasks assigned with the following priorities:-
(a) Opening up of the roads e.g. to Paradeep.
(b) Launching Engineer boats north the above road for rescue operations.
(c) Establishing contact & communication with the areas affected & in the process gaining first hand information about the ground realities; about prevailing conditions that we, thus far, saw from the air.
As the area in the north was inundated & continued to do so because of the after effects of rains in the hill districts, Engineer BAUTs were assigned to the columns in the north. These troops did a commendable job reaching deep inside marooned areas; at times at considerable peril. On occasions, where the water was shallow they had to wade through water to deliver relief to the marooned. Some gave us sleepless nights outstretching themselves beyond the range of communication & without food for over 24 hours. It was a Gurkha unit. Much later when we were to wind up our operation & the civil administration was to take charge, a Law & Order situation emerged. Locals were up in arms, so to say; physically blocking the departure of the troops. This was the greatest tribute & honor the nation could bestow on the Army. We were touched by the faith reposed on the troops to diligently, fairly & honestly dole the largesse provided by the benevolent citizens of the country as relief material. The officers on the spot pacified the frenzied crowd sought a safe departure.
As the columns advanced to clear the roads, they confronted ever new challenges & vision of death & destruction. Though the worst hit areas were still water logged, there was no way boats could be launched; the water was not deep enough. Troops had to wade through waist deep water to reach the needy. I must record one poignant incident. I wish I could do so in bold golden words. The skies had cleared; the midday sun was exceptionally hot – quite uncomfortable for an outsider. Troops left for their tasks at the crack of dawn armed with packed lunch & water. After a particularly grueling day, one soldier sat down to have his well deserved lunch. Hardly had he opened the package, when he saw some famished local children collected around him. He decided to forego his meal & offered it to these boys.
In the Army one comes across several examples of men quickly finding a solution to surmount problems. While the officers are trained & tend to think linier, the men think laterally. When the columns were initially stumped by breached or blocked roads, they reported that locals stood paralyzed without extending a helping hand. The jawans, who were in the forefront, motivated them & that had an electrifying effect. Apart from this, the men were quick to borrow cycles from locals & probed deeper ahead to provide the vital information needed well before the column approached it. Yes, in retrospect, a few cycles with the Army columns would be a very useful means of transportation under such conditions.
Medical aid on behalf of the Orissa Government was no different from that in any other state. Here it was a shade worst. At least two Field Ambulances were flown in & deployed astride the axis just south of Bhubaneshwar leading on to Ersama & beyond. The Army Medical Corps was fully geared up to meet the kind of medical problems obtaining in such disasters. Locals, even from those areas not affected by cyclone flocked to the Field Ambulance for treatment. The local peasants were most disappointed to see the Field Ambulance derequisitioned – rightly so, as they would now be at the mercy of their own local doctors.
The Air Force took direct orders from the Civil Authority & had negligible coordination with the other two services. The close coordination with the Navy was noteworthy. The Naval Chief flew into Bhubaneshwar & spent a day with us in the Control Headquarters. After the briefing he informed us that he was directing a Naval detachment to operate along the coastal areas for obvious reasons & the Army’s limitation in this regard. After he departed, the Naval officer told me that his force was at our disposal for any task & that they would like to operate in close coordination & alongside the Army. This gladdened my heart. It was not a tall claim. He & his men took great pleasure in working alongside the Army columns, wherever they were eminently suited for the job. I had resolved to write a Demi Official letter of appreciation to the Naval Chief commending our Naval counterparts for their exemplary attitude towards collective response to a common crisis. I never could fulfill my resolve & I regret it.

Coordination with Civil Authorities

Land & radio communication was disrupted. The government was therefore oblivious to what was the actual situation. The army columns were making good progress. Vital intelligence was pouring in from all sectors. Every morning at 9 AM I had to attend the conference at the Secretariat. It was a huge hall with a large number of bureaucrats- maybe 30 or 40. I was the first one to speak & give an update on the latest situation as our tentacles were effective in the most inaccessible areas, & more importantly, we were only ones in communication with those areas on radio. (Much later, we were provided INMERSATs- satellite communication. Gradually satellite imagery was delivered to us – though not in real time – from which we could clearly see the receding waters in Bhadrak. It now seemed the nation had fully geared up)
During the briefings I could see the senior officers nodding their heads in confirmation, consternation or dismay. After the briefing I was asked about the suggested action for that day & the next. My role for the day, in the conference was over & I departed. Based on this, & their prudence, all effort was directed.
My daily interaction with some officials in the Secretariat helped me to project our requirements to bring speedy relief. Meanwhile the Task Force Commander, Maj. Gen. Kler & the Command Headquarters had mobilized more resources in terms of Army Engineers & Field Hospitals. We wanted more from the state government. We pressed for maximum engineering vehicles like Dozers, JCBs & Dumpers. The state officials were very responsive & supplemented our efforts in every way.
Consequent to my interaction with the local press, I confirmed that in & around Astrang, north of Devi Nadi, no aid whatsoever had reached. The locals were feeding on the roots of coconut trees. They were furious with the civil administration. I apprised my superiors about this & was directed to write to the Chief Secretary, which I did in rather blunt terms for which the Army Commander admonished me. The next morning as expected I was summoned to the Secretariat. The Army Commander, who was present in the Operations Room sympathetically told me to face the music. I was ushered to the Chief Secretary’s office, where two Additional Chief Secretaries too were apparently summoned. A lovely cup of tea was served. The Chief Secretary arrived & asked the other two to individually read my letter adding, “For your eyes only”. I expected to be thrown out of the window! Then he turned to me & asked, “Brigadier, what course of action do you suggest?” I advised him to immediately suspend all relief & direct the entire day’s Army, Navy & Air Force effort to provide relief for people of Astrang. I am happy to write that this was done. The local correspondents confirmed this to me. However I requested them not to put to test my temper again lest I get sacked!

Press Briefings
The number of media personnel was directly proportionate the improvement in conditions. Many of them followed closely behind the Army Columns & also were given a helicopter sortie to see the area. Thus, when they came for the briefing, most of them were fully conversant with the progress & seemed to test the veracity of the briefing. The task of briefing was assigned to me. The time assigned was 1 PM but they were there well before that. As the area was vast, the media was keen to be updated on all fronts. Initially they were difficult to handle but soon they gained adequate faith in our objective reporting. As a consequence of the mutual understanding, an unwanted relationship developed. They started to perceive me as the hero in the entire live drama.
One day I told them that the next day I would introduce to them the soldiers who were the real heroes - who did all the work. They were naturally excited. I took my staff officer, a Major of the Maratha Regiment, who was actually the GSO2 in the formation headquarters, & the Commanding Officer of an Assam Regiment battalion, Colonel Saha for the Press Briefing. I introduced these two to the media saying that these & many more were the ones who were doing all the difficult work & that I would like them to take on the briefing & answer all queries. The two officers were an instant hit & the briefing went off exceptionally well. The added bonus was that the two officers’ families saw them on the TV that evening.
It was in a few of these briefings that some local media personnel revealed to me the plight of locals at Astrang. This, I verified & consequently took the action I have already described.
Apart from the Press Briefings, I was contacted by the BBC to account for a statement I made that morning. In the briefing, I had stated that if speedy action was not taken to efficiently dispose off the rotting bodies & carcasses there could an epidemic; and that I had apprised the State Government about it that morning in the Secretariat. This perhaps was just the fodder BBC & CNN were looking for. I was requested to be available on line at 9 PM that evening. They were explained that the authorities concerned gave the assurance that necessary action will follow. That seemed to satisfy BBC.
Shortly after, Satendra Singh Bindra came to the headquarters & met my Sector Commander & sought an interview for the CNN. As expected, I was placed on the “Firing Range Butt”. His first question was a loaded one, which came after a long prelude. He was suggesting that what the State Government was doing was inadequate. While facing the camera I addressed him by his name & told him that I was here to provide aid to the State Government & not to criticize or do them down. It was not done & hence such questions may please be kept out of the purview of the interview. Apparently, he was a thorough gentleman, & I have no doubt to believe otherwise, & the interview ended. We had informal interaction during the course of which he revealed some very interesting aspects for which I shall always be indebted to him.
Satindra had hired a local cab & had been driving non stop to reach as far forward as possible. Having seen as much as was possible, he was with us that evening in the headquarters. His driver was dependent on Satindra for food. The latter, though a Punjabi, was an American. He carried food that suited him. En route the driver exhibited pangs of hunger. Satindra’s own survival depended on the driver. He doled out a fair share for the driver & in addition gave him a full tin of Baked Beans. All this was shoveled down. After a short time the driver again complained of hunger. Satendra was surprised. What was a full meal for a Marine in the US army, proved inadequate for our Oriya. The driver then explained that a meal consisting of rice was considered a square one. The irony was that most of the food aid that was flown in from abroad was junk for the locals who would prefer chana, gur, sattu etc instead of what came in. I recollect that in Bihar, the local administration kept this in mind & supplied precisely what the locals prefer i.e. chana, gur, sattu, candles, matches, etc – items of dire necessity in water proof bags. Will the UN & other agencies ensure that they study the basic food habits of the people they wish to assist?
Often I traveled by road into the affected areas. I had never before seen such appalling sights. The village Ersama, like very other village in the Cyclone affected area, was surrounded by knee deep water. The sun shone bright & hot. Humidity added to the prevailing misery. Potable drinking water was not available or scarce. Carcasses of bovine creatures lay within yards of the devastated hutments. They added to the overall stench of the stagnant water. A woman crouched near the stagnant water cleaning her utensils & filling water for cooking. A dead body lay close by. I apprised the authorities about this & urged them to take immediate action to efficiently dispose the dead – humans & animals. This would require JCBs, Dozers, kerosene oil (for incinerating) & manpower. If this was not done urgently, there could an epidemic. I made the mistake of mentioning this in the 1 PM Press Conference. BBC was quick to react & wanted me on line at 9 PM. My Task Force Commander was naturally agitated. At the appointed time I was on line. They wanted specifics on the expected epidemic. I put their apprehensions to rest by sharing the knowledge that the State Government had ordered mobilization of JCBs & issue of kerosene oil. Indeed, I did see the work in progress but as expected it was done half-heartedly. Carcasses were partially burnt & buried. At least some action was taken.

Role of NGOs
A written account on the aftermath of Orissa Cyclone cannot be complete without the mention of the role played by NGOs & several voluntary organizations. Not only did the relief material pour in from different parts of the country, volunteers of various hues were visible all over. They apparently had their priorities correct & set about removing & disposing the dead. Almost all wore masks, to ward off the stench, & gloves to handle the carcasses. I must mention here that the only ones who did not use masks or gloves were from the RSS.
In the relief work were volunteers from almost all religious organizations – Hindus, Sikhs, Christians. All of them made their presence felt & rendered valuable service. On many occasions they approached us to seek the most severely affected areas so that their services were judiciously deployed. Two members, of western origin, from the ISKCON too visited our headquarters to provide help. All served those suffering with missionary zeal. I even had the pleasure of receiving & briefing the staff the internationally famous organization called Medicine sans Frontiers. OXFAM too had arrived but I never interacted with them or saw them while I was there. I strongly recommend that a single agency of the Government should canalize such effort so that each is able to do a complete & thorough job under coordination of the Government at the Centre.

Imminent Problems Faced by the Orissa Government
As soon as the state administration felt confident of handling the situation, they started the process of de-requisitioning in phased manner. This local populace did not like this. The army was happy to be called back to their barracks. The quantum of aid lying in the Cricket Stadium needed proper planning for distribution. Apart from this, it is imperative that the local government regain control & confidence of the people. Though the Armed Forces had performed a daunting task, the task of the Government after this was going to be equally difficult. Relief & Rescue almost over, the task of Rehabilitation was going to be a challenging one.
Shelters
The immediate & most urgent requirement of the locals was a shelter. Obviously, proper shelters would take time to transport & erect. The immediate need of the hour was poly sheets for protection against rain & sun. Overseas agencies, in their wisdom decided not to fly in this item; they presumed that it would be available within India. It made sense. However they underestimated the business acumen of us Indians. All stocks went underground. None were available! They were available in black. So, the Cyclone victims were the victims of their own citizens. For a very long time locals clamored for these sheets. None were forthcoming. (It happens in war too. The wily merchant/businessman makes essential goods scarce to make profit on the sideline while the going is good. Arms manufacturers & supplier do the same on a larger scale.)

Potable Water
Sea water had flooded all water sources. There was no potable water. Who would provide this bare human necessity & for how long? Most of the areas were still inaccessible. Water tankers if any, if pressed to service would be able to access only the fringes. A massive campaign would have to be undertaken to bore fresh wells at pre-designated sites to provide immediate succor.

Desalination of soil
There was no way dredging could be done over such a vast area. It was left to the elements of nature to dry the entire area; this took a long time. But, how would the locals restore the fertility of the erstwhile highly productive areas? I still wonder. In case the land remained adversely affected by the sea water, how long did it take for it to be restored to its productive state – with or without Government intervention? Associated with this is the problem of seeds for sowing as the available stocks with the locals were destroyed.

Compensation
Who would get the monetary & material compensation & on what basis? Hardly any one survived in the worst hit areas. Many were lone survivors. Some were children who were huddled inside the cyclone shelters. In a way every one was orphaned in one way or the other. Verification of claimants would be a daunting task. The Revenue officials would literally play the role of God – or the Devil! There would be no trace of any land documents with the survivors.
Who owned a mud & wattle/thatched hut? Who owned a house with a brick wall with a thatched roof & who owned a concrete house? Who owned cattle & how many? Would the compensation be on a uniform scale for everyone across the board?
The first assistance the survivors needed, to start the difficult journey to self reliance is livestock. After all they, almost all, had cows, buffaloes, bullocks etc. None of these survived. The Government must provide these at whatever arrangement – free or on some easy installments or heavily subsidized. I heard the matter being discussed while I was there. There was a suggestion that bullocks were most essential – to plough the fields once the salinity problem was solved. Where would they come from? Someone suggested that they would be brought from other states. Would these creatures quickly adapt themselves to the local humid conditions? I wonder, in retrospect, how the locals procured cattle for themselves or, to put it correctly, how the Government assisted in providing them because milk & milk products are daily necessities of the rural folk.
This aspect of cattle brings forth another allied problem – fodder. Since all vegetation had been destroyed or rendered useless, where would the fodder come from? Again someone suggested that it would come from neighboring states. In this grim discussion on a somber occasion there was a brief humorous interlude. The reason was – fodder from Bihar!
Surely, the peasants must have owned some poultry in every household. Shouldn’t some immediate steps be taken to provide them with some roosters & hens so that they are provided some immediate means to feed themselves?

Orphans
What was the mechanism within the armory of the State Government to take care of the orphans, infants & young girls – not that the elderly old & infirm did not need care & rehabilitation? The former needed more care because I had heard of some cases of attempted molestation & trafficking. Who would be entrusted with their care - that too on a long term basis? It is very easy & elevating to go to such areas for short durations & return to the safe & secure environment where we live. To stay longer in the devastated areas to rehabilitate, to provide emotional support, to alleviate the mental trauma, to finally secure a profitable qualification & job & marriage is another cup of tea. Obviously this can be done, & must be done by the locals themselves for obvious reasons as outside agencies & volunteers must return to their own jobs & businesses. I wonder how well this aspect was looked after. I am fully aware of the fact that many voluntary organizations perform best when under the arc lights of the media. Once this is absent, the same humanitarian job loses its sheen & glamour. Some NGOs collect adequate data & visuals to meet their requirements of further funding. Their reports are impressive & statistics voluminous. It would be interesting to carry out a ground audit of their claims to have bored wells etc.

Education
Local schools & colleges were disrupted. Students lost al their books & perhaps their notebooks too. The young lady I mentioned earlier in this article was doing her graduation. She had lost all her family members. She was, at that moment in dire need of clothes to protect her modesty. Who would provide her books & the college fees? Like her, there were many students who shared the same plight. How did the Government overcome this problem, or did they? How long did it take for normal schools & colleges to resume functioning?

Construction of Cyclone Shelters
Did you read The Seventh Secret by Irving Wallace? If you have time, do read it. You will appreciate what I intend to convey. Hitler is said to have created underground structures, for himself, at seven places. Well, I don’t imply that the Orissa State Government create subterranean townships at prohibitive cost. Instead, strong & fully self sufficient Cyclone shelter domes should be created after a Systems Analysis in the Cyclone affected areas based on past experience. In this manner precious lives of citizens & livestock can be saved.

Medical Cover
The initial medical cover was provided by the Army Field Hospitals. I remember at least two such units were flown in & deployed. One was deployed short of Ersama. When we left, these units stayed on a little longer. Their hands were full with patients streaming in, not only from the east but also from the west! However this medical assistance was needed right till normalcy was restored. Locals had to be immunized against the kind of infection that accompanies contaminated water, poor sanitation, mal-nourishment, heat & high humidity etc. Infants required proper nourishment while women needed pre& post natal care. This was an awesome task that needed monitoring at the highest possible level.
All the aforementioned actions had to be taken by the State Government on a war footing so as to provide the basic infrastructure well before the onset of the forthcoming monsoon season. The reader will appreciate that not all was possible within this time frame though work had started in earnest.

Regeneration of Vegetation
Concurrent action would have to be taken to provide coconut saplings for plantation as all standing trees had been leveled in the manner described earlier. Whatever forest cover there was had been either destroyed or had suffered serious damage. All this would need immediate attention of the Government.
I do not know if Mangrove growth along the coast, in certain areas, had been cleared in the past for prawn cultivation. I heard some wise people comment about the important role played by Mangrove swamps in mitigating the otherwise violent impact of any cyclone or tsunami.

Early Warning System
Unless all available warning systems are integrated to provide real time information to the people, human lives will be lost in such like disasters. Where & how did we go wrong in our estimates & predictions in Orissa? Even if the threat appeared to be veering off towards the North, there was no harm in taking precautionary measures. In such cases on should err on the plus side. I would go further to state that in such cases one should view the situation as a pessimist. Many readers may not concur with my observation in this regard.

Conclusion
This brings me to the end of my personal experience in Orissa. Whenever I meet an Oriya, I rarely miss the opportunity to mention that I too am an Oriya – purely because of my association with the aftermath of the Super Cyclone. In the process I usually end up engaging my unwary victim for at least half an hour narrating my eye witness account of the Rescue & Relief Operation. My last victims were Col CP Singh & his elegant wife, whom I waylaid at Doon during the Territorial Army Silver Jubilee Dinner. To that extent I treat a Bihari to a similar menu as I was closely associated with Flood Relief in North Bihar. Just as I have penned my Orissa account, so too I have committed my experience of battling for the annual flood victims of North Bihar.
I long to return & see what normalcy looks like; how the people have picked shattered pieces of life & hobbled back to life. Various NGOs, from within & without, seem to have done a magnificent job after we left. My only regret is that such assistance did not arrive in good time; it must follow the Armed Forces’ advancing columns to based on accurate estimates of the relief required; relief must reach the needy & not the other way around. I wonder if we will ever learn from our past experience; I wonder if pseudo Disaster Managers will again dominate the show after the difficult & hazardous job is over. We referred to these loud mouthed, managers as “Disastrous Managers” in lighter vein. Have you heard the old song “Blowin’ in the Wind”? If you haven’t, you must listen to it.
I have deliberately not ended this piece by penning down the lessons learnt. I have written exactly in the manner the thoughts have flowed in my mind - of events almost eight years old but fresh in my mind because of the traumatic memories I carry. Consequently I feel I have unburdened the heavy load from my mind by sharing it with you. The entire article is in a narrative form – just as I intend. For the serious student of Disaster Management, lessons are strewn all over the script.

Annual Floods – UP & Bihar

Year after year, the visuals of marooned people, particularly east UP & Bihar are disturbing to watch. Why, you may or ought to wonder, doesn’t anyone do something about it? Don’t science & technology, & wealth of modern India have a permanent solution to at least mitigate this recurring annual suffering if not totally eradicate it? So far, measures, if any, taken in this regard seem to have been ineffective. In fact, they have compounded the suffering as we shall soon reveal. Let us examine the issue in totality & historically to reveal the various facets of floods in this region.

Is this phenomenon a natural one or man made? Today, we can say that it is both. However, for centuries in the past, these areas & the banks of the mighty Ganga have been witness to flooding. Excessive rainfall in what now constitutes Uttarakhand & astride the course of Ganga & Yamuna has always been one constant factor, the impact of which was historically felt right up to Bangla Desh since time immemorial. This situation was further aggravated by similar downpours in Nepal whose rivers drain into UP & Bihar. Why, you may ask, wasn’t this scourge a prominent subject to be recorded in the annals of history? Did the people dwelling in the effected areas suffer loss of dwellings, livestock, food grain & human life? Was there any such loss suffered year after year by these people? Did they have to rebuild their hutments, replenish their livestock, & procure food grain for eating & sowing year after year? Or, did they show foresight & resilience to over come the scourge of floods? These are relevant questions. Why has the magnitude of the problem suddenly become so large that the local Army formations have to keep several Internal Security Columns of Infantry & Engineers, along with other support services, as well as Air Force helicopters in readiness to move in aid of the local government? Aid of this nature has become a matter of routine. It may appear unique as a state of direst emergency to the newly posted army commanders in the chain of command justifying imminent extension of aid to the marooned victims.

The entire subject was deftly dealt with by Mr. Laloo Prasad Yadav when he explained the matter in his characteristic but convincing rustic style. I respect his opinion in matters relating to life in Bihar for obvious reasons. I wish to share his views on this subject.

Mr. Laloo confided that indeed, his people were quite used to the ravages of flood. It was not a new phenomenon they were confronting. They in turn had learnt to effectively cope with such situations, including the worst scenarios. How? We shall explain later. In the very early stages when humans had not applied the modern scientific techniques to tame the rising waters, there was no real impediment to the flood waters. Thus, all the water overflowing the Ganges, Ghagara, Jharahi, Daha, Gandaki, Dhamati or Dhamahi, Siahi, Nikari, Sona, Gandak, Burhi Gandak, Kosi etc spread evenly all over north Bihar. In this manner the effect of flood water was swiftly spread over the entire region. Pointing to his knees, he said that the water rarely rose above that level. The rich alluvial soil spread evenly all over, returning bumper crops in the following cropping season. (The latter claim is true even today as corroborated by a local army doctor who owns large tracts of land. The doctor reiterated that they merely sowed seeds without tilling the soil!).

The locals, with generations of experience, had studied the behavior of the rivers during the monsoons to correctly gauge the maximum height of the surging waters. Accordingly, they raised a small mound high & large enough to accommodate their hutment, livestock & food grain for up to six months. Seems plausible as in the earlier times there was no Air Force or Army rescue & relief column, or engineer boats with OBMs to depend on.

When I asked him how they coped with their drinking water problem, he said that each of such hillocks had a well in the centre that provided them water. I have seen the entire stretch of northern Bihar, from west to east reduced to a massive lake dotted with countless islands like the ones Mr. Laloo described. Indeed these hillocks were above the water level. The prevailing winds were so strong that our Army engineers found the resultant waves unsafe to launch their boats for rescue & relief. The locals were sagacious enough to even raise portions of the cart track leading to their village to the same level to allow safety to the marooned if required. This helped our operation as the Air Force helicopters aligned their flight in line with these tracks & dropped the relief supplies along it. Mr. Laloo also revealed that the locals could survive for fairly long period on Sattu & Chana.

If that be the case, why has it lately become imperative to annually clamor for hundreds of crores of rupees as relief from the Centre accompanied by immediate demand for aid from military authorities? Here are some more interesting facts. Much of the land north of the Ganges is owned by powerful landlords. As per Mr. Laloo, some decades back a modern technique was applied to arrest the problem. How & why it was approved & implemented baffles me. A massive exercise was undertaken to construct concrete or stone filled bunds along the course of the major tributaries of the Ganges, which flowed from the Nepal border into Bihar! This had two highly adverse repercussions. Firstly, all the water canalized into constricted canal suddenly swelled the waters of the Ganges & naturally created havoc. Secondly, the land north of the Ganges was deprived of the rich alluvial soil. Land thus gradually became infertile & fallow. Thus, some affected parties deliberately breached the bunds contiguous to their land. Over a period of time these bunds no longer served their purpose. Mr. Laloo expressed dissent for this project for the various reasons just listed.

Mr. Laloo once remarked in jest that the people here do not want roads & electricity. What would happen to these roads if they were submerged under water for months? Also what would happen to the electric poles & lines under these circumstances? When I visited a Kargil widow’s home north of Darbhanga, I asked this question to a local. He emphatically stated what Mr. Laloo had said. “What will we do with vehicles on these mud tracks? What we need is bullock carts & lanterns”. No, he was not being sarcastic. He was earnest about it. His bullock cart navigated with greater ease than my jeep!

While the Homo sapiens are planning for Mars, how can we tame the forces of nature here? Well, in Bihar something enormous has been done in the past to protect Patna. For miles, the bank astride the Ganga has been protected by a massive concrete wall. It has sluice gates to allow water to drain into the Ganges from the south towards the north. When the Ganga is in spate, these sluice gates are shut. Piles of sand bags are placed to reinforce the gates. This gives rise to another problem. The rain water of the city collects within the city converting individual colonies to be waterlogged fro months. The same logic, Mr. Laloo’s, applies here too. Earlier Patna was not as sprawling as it is today. (Asia’s largest residential colony is within Patna. It’s called Kankarbagh. Interestingly, all its roads are nothing better than “kankar” or stones. Yet most houses are truly posh, opulent & spotlessly clean within their four walls. All their garbage is dumped on the road which is not their concern – so much like Doon!). Thus several colonies are inundated for the entire duration of Monsoons. So, in the past water spread all over evenly, even though the entire area was water logged. Now, this natural drainage is impeded & hence myriad problems arise relating to water pollution, mosquitoes, & heavy fog in the winters disrupting air traffic. (I once traveled from Delhi to Patna to find myself back at Delhi! On another occasion I had a free trip to Kolkata thanks to the fog).

Once again I quote Dr. Satendra Singh IFS as it is so relevant to the problems Patna faces due to flooding. Here unplanned or uncoordinated development has been accompanied by disaster! A highway cuts across the southern limits of Patna in west-easterly direction. It is an elevated highway almost as high as the second floor of neighboring houses. For miles there is no channel to allow water from the south to drain into the Ganges that lies north – its natural course is blocked by colonies & individual boundary walls. Astride this highway I have seen people commute by boats from their water logged homes to the road!

To me, as things stand today, a solution to the floods in east UP & Bihar is as frustrating as the solution to flooding in Mumbai. After all, one can’t empty the water in the latter case into the Arabian Sea. Likewise, the Ganges which is itself swollen, cannot accept the flood waters of its tributaries. Man has chosen to dwell in areas that are water-logged marshes during the monsoons. These marshes have been the traditional feeding grounds for the migratory Asian Openbill Stork, Anastomus oscitans, for time immemorial. They feed on the abundant supply of mollusks, frogs & insects, & nest in close clusters on Ficus (Pilkan) trees within Danapur (earlier known as Little England). The citizens of Patna & surrounding areas will obviously have to adopt the lifestyle of this stork – wade through water-logged marshy land for several months in a year.

I have first hand experience about the other form of relief provided during floods that must be eating up most of the aid provided by the Centre. During a reconnaissance mission, I landed at a location not far from Gorakhpur, close to the flooded area on the border of UP & Bihar. A police jeep took me to one site of a breach in the bund. I walked up to the very site of breach. The concerned Secretary of Bihar, a lady, some Mrs. Singh was at the breach sitting under blue polyurethane sheet! I was very impressed. The breach was about 100 yards wide & threatening to expand every hour. The force of the disgorging water was so strong that all the boulders that were being dropped to bridge the gap were being swept hundreds of yards away. In this manner several truck loads of boulders were rendered useless. Another experiment was undertaken. With the help of boats, the workers labored hard & erected a parallel row of bamboo fence downstream of the breach. Having done that, they now ferried boulders in boats & dropped them between the bamboo barricades. Thus the force of the gushing water from the mouth of the breach was somewhat reduced. Now they had the difficult task of plugging the actual breach. Glancing at the expanse lying ahead of me in the east I could see nothing but murky water heavily laden with alluvial soil from the upper tracts. As I was to do an aerial survey of the flood affected area to allocate Army resources, I took leave from this courageous lady Secretary whose unpleasant & seemingly impossible job was to plug the gap & account for unlimited trucks of boulders.

On the way back, the police driver shocked me by stating that, on paper, several hundred truck loads of boulders are shown as relief while in actuality only a small percentage is delivered. This he said was an annual feature. I refuse to believe this. How can anyone squander & misappropriate crores of Rupees released as aid for the flood victims?

As you may have concluded, the problem of floods in Bihar & eastern UP defies solution. The purpose of this article is not to scoff at Bihar’s demand for aid during floods. Far from it, I wish to suggest some more effective measures to ensure that aid, in whatever form reaches almost all those marooned, with minimum cost without resorting to the insufficient aid flown & dropped by helicopters. During the floods surface transport is restricted to travel by boats. Helicopters cannot land anywhere in the vast expanse of sea in north Bihar. Obviously relief cannot reach all the affected people. A large number of needy marooned villagers do not get relief. The state Government, at the end of helicopter sorties & deployment of Army columns pat their backs for a job well done. Files are closed to be opened next year & every following year.

The relief material consists of waterproof gunny bags, of uniform weight (perhaps 5 to 8 kgs each?) containing sattu, chana, jaggery, candles, match boxes & other such like useful items. Air Force helicopters are loaded with this cargo to be dropped at various marooned villages. The crew must ensure that the bags do not land on the frenzied crowd below, or into the water. Often the latter happens & occasionally the former. Sometimes a small stretch of elevated track leading to the village is available. It is here that a fairly large crowd is often gathered to grab the maximum bags. The helicopter takes a circuit to align itself to this track to offload the cargo along its length. Darwin’s theory – survival of the fittest – is on full display. The strongest of the boys always manage to retrieve the maximum bags. The old, women & children stand empty handed in despair while the helicopter moves to another location. I always wondered what the fate was of the old, infirm, & women folk who did not have such able bodied husbands or sons! Young men can be seen diving fearlessly into the water to retrieve the bags – some of which inevitably fall into it. How can relief be provided to all the needy in the given time? There is limit to the number of helicopter sorties & Army boats that can be provided. So, how can we be sure that relief has reached, at least, most of the people? The present system in vogue is an avoidable burden on the exchequer.

Since annual floods are sure to occur in Bihar, just as sure as the sunrise tomorrow morning, I would recommend that relief material, duly packed, based on the number in each household, is moved by road during the dry season, before the onset of rains, & distributed to the villages under proper supervision. It will cost much less to the Centre & State. Even after this pro-active step is taken towards mitigation of woes due to floods, aid from Army/Air force must continue but with one exception – it will be target specific, surgical & effective.

As stated by Mr. Laloo, getting marooned is no big deal for the locals. They have spent whole generations & life coping with it & rarely drown unless a boat capsizes. Not only do they co-exist with rising waters but also with a variety of snakes in the same trees that provide the only dry place to man & reptiles in emergent cases. This relief provided is nothing but a hedge against unusual circumstances of acute shortage. It must be continued. The landlords may be affluent, probably living in safer areas, but the locals live under most adverse weather conditions & general deprivation. Hence, till such time floods recur, all possible steps should be taken to alleviate their problems prudently – not like a “Seagull Manager” who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps all over & flies out!