In picturesque valleys and hills nestled in the heart of the popular hill of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh, life flowed with tranquil beauty. Inhabitants went about their daily routines, surrounded by lush forests, cascading streams in the valleys, and the ever-present embrace of misty clouds. The region’s charm was matched only by its vulnerability to nature’s unpredictable forces. The vulnerabilities being pointed out loudly in the past, the agenda of growth and better lives, however, always overshadowed that.
Over the last couple of days, the sky overhead was beginning to darken threateningly only indicating the fuming reaction from the rain god. The air was heavy with anticipation, and nervous energy pervaded the village. The villagers had experienced heavy rains before, but this time was different – there was a sense of unease that hung in the air like a premonition.
As the day wore on, the distant rumbling of thunder grew steadily closer. Clouds amassed, their shades of grey foreboding against the backdrop of the once-serene landscape. The elders whispered tales of ancient legends, where the mountains wept and the heavens unleashed their wrath upon the land.
By late afternoon, a deafening clap of thunder marked the beginning of a torrential downpour. Rain cascaded from the sky like liquid bullets, drenching everything in its path. Streams swelled into raging torrents, carrying away rocks and debris. The villages’ rivers transformed from a gentle stream into a raging monster, its voracious appetite tearing at the riverbanks. As the intensity of the rain increased, the ground could no longer absorb the deluge, and water began to pool in the low-lying areas. The cloudburst had arrived.
In a matter of minutes, a swathe of water stream descended upon the villages, like an angry titan seeking retribution. Houses were ripped from their foundations, trees uprooted, and boulders dislodged from their age-old perches. The villages, once bubbling with laughter and camaraderie, were now a swirling vortex of destruction.
Villagers scrambled to higher ground, clutching onto each other for dear life, but the deafening roar of the water drowned out their cries, crashing buildings with sliding soil mass.
As the rain’s fury halted and the people drew the courage to move out of their homes, the full extent of the tragedy became painfully clear. Rescue teams from NDRF, SDRF, and volunteering neighbours arrived, battling the treacherous terrain and relentless rain. The once-thriving villages were reduced to a ghostly memory, and the loss of life was staggering. Families were shattered, homes were reduced to rubble, and scars were etched into the land itself.
The aftermath of rains in hilly areas always brings its own story with clear warnings and loud messages. Horrendous tales of lost lives and property losses are being reported with deep sympathies to the bereaved families, directly and indirectly affected.
Another event of havoc passed, with sympathies for the damages but no remorse. That development and climate change are responsible for such tragedies is known for quite some time. What is disturbing and quite a dangerous trend is our blindness toward the development path followed over the last four decades despite clear warnings and expert advice against it. Another more serious observation is apathy towards this destruction by locals and the absence of a mass movement like ‘Chipko Andolan’.
An ecosystem approach of management is required to be integrated with the present development model in Himalayas. The feasibility studies of infrastructure development in such fragile areas should be carried out with an Ecosystem Approach Framework. The much-needed infrastructure should legitimately form a component of the Himalayan Ecosystem.