Rivers and Roads: A tale of travels and disasters from Kinnaur

Kinnaur has witnessed many changes in the past few years. Road connectivity, apple economy and arrival of big and small hydropower projects in the region are amongst them. In this piece the writer explores what the stories of travel looked like in the generation of her grandparents and how things have evolved. On foot travel appear to be things of a distant past and the travel tales today are plagued by the signboards of “Danger” and news headlines of “disasters”.

Read the story in Hindi

Kinnaur has been a landscape where sheep rearing and transhumance have historically been vital for the region – a livelihood that ceaselessly demands difficult journeys. A conversation reminiscing the past with a Kinnaura elder would not be complete if they did not tell you their on-foot travel tales.

My eighty-three-year-old grandmother would often exclaim- 

“I could rarely visit my mother’s home after my marriage because there were no roads or buses back then.”

Her unfeigned amazement at the ease of connectivity in the present times makes me curious about how our lives and lifestyles have changed over time.

The old Hindustan Tibet Road, an ancient trade route between India and Tibet, passes through Kinnaur. Old HT Road was famous for the extensive trade of wool and related products. The formal recognition of trade goes back to the 17th century when the King of Tibet and Bushahr signed a treaty forbidding any levy on trade between the two regions. 

The trading relations are reflected in markets and trade fairs along both sides – including the famous Lavi trade fair. It continues to be organised at Rampur in every year in November, albeit without the Tibetan traders. The word “Lavi“ is believed to have originated from the Pahadi dialect “Loi“ which means raw wool. 

During the colonial era, the British attempted to widen the tracks of the Old HT Road- originally a donkey trail- and began construction along the banks of Sutlej connecting Kinnaur to the plains of North India. This track would be later converted to NH22 as India faced the threat of aggression from China back in the 1960s. Prior to that Kinnaur had limited connection with the mainland while the relations with Tibet continued flourishing. Pilgrims and businessmen from Kinnaur frequently visited their unfettered Tibetan neighbour. My grandfather was one of the many children who had embarked on a long journey by foot to become a monk in Lhasa. But his timing was a little bad. His Buddhist education was shortly disrupted due to the annexation of Tibet by China. My grandfather became a captive in a foreign land full of political turmoil. He narrated his dangerous journey back home to me when I was young child and though I do not remember the details of his journey- the thrill and the pride I felt at the time I heard his extraordinary travel tale lives on in me.

The tales of travel from the generation of my parents are slightly different. My mother always beams with pride when she tells me-

“I was the first woman to complete graduation from my village and it wasn’t easy.” 

Formal schooling for all and employment opportunities made their way to Kinnaur during their time. Their stories typically feature the struggles and hardships they had to face.

“There was no school in our village. We used to walk every day to the neighbouring village just to attend school.” 

“We didn’t have the luxury of falling sick, we were simply healthy or we couldn’t survive.” 

Another big change during this time was the shift towards an apple economy. In 1915, Samual Evans Stoke aka Satyanand Stokes brought a few saplings of apples from America, his place of origin, and planted them in Thanedar, Himachal Pradesh, his chosen home. In the following few decades, the apple economy kept growing slowly and made its way to Kinnaur, which by now was effectively connected to the plains of north India.

Road connectivity paved the way for Kinnaur’s apples to gain access to the markets across India, and apple cultivation emerged as the region’s primary economic activity. Road connectivity also led to a steady increase in tourism as well. Although the medical facilities aren’t dramatically different from my mother’s time and several villages still remain without roads, Kinnaur has the status of having the second-largest per capita income out of the twelve districts in Himachal Pradesh. 

The National Highway connects Kinnaur to Shimla on one side and Spiti on the other, and runs along the banks of the Sutlej River. Travellers come to experience the thrill of driving along this road, apart from enjoying the scenic valleys and the cultural heritage of Kinnaur. However, with the Sutlej being extensively dammed for the production of Hydropower electricity, instead of driving along a free-flowing river, one will be driving alongside a series of dams and tunnels in time.  

Within a rapidly changing landscape, the tales of travel in the region have not at all diminished, only metamorphosed. The travel narratives of Kinnaur today are marked by landslides, dangerous rock fall and work-in-progress signboards. In 2021, two landslides at Batseri and Nigulsari took the lives of 9 and 28 people respectively. Many disasters have since unfolded in the region. 

On the early morning of the 9th of July 2023, everyone woke up to disturbing news of the damage the torrential rains had done across Himachal Pradesh. On the following days images and videos of floods kept circulating on social media. Floods across Mandi, Shimla, Manali and Kinnaur washed away houses, roads, cattle, trees and people.

This year we witnessed spells of heavy rainfall in Himachal Pradesh due to the interaction of the monsoon and the Western Disturbance. Cyclonic storms known as “Western Disturbances” originate in the Mediterranean region and typically deliver winter precipitation and snow to the northwest regions of India and the Himalaya. However, due to the warming temperatures, Western Disturbances are entering India more frequently during the summer and monsoon season, bringing extreme weather events and in it’s was, catastrophic disasters.  

A second spell of heavy rainfall and destruction hit Himachal Pradesh in September. In Kinnaur, the rains triggered a landslide near Nigulsari on NH5 cutting off the region’s connection with the outside world for ten exhausting days. The landslide occurred at a time when people were prepared (or preparing) to transport and sell their pea harvest and early varietals of apples. The politicians, authorities and the local people all worked hard to get the roads up and running. This was the same stretch where a landslide that occurred in 2021 had claimed the lives of 28 residents of Kinnaur. 

Another landslide to impede NH5 occurred on October 28, 2023. And there were no heavy rains to blame this time. A massive portion of the mountain collapsed at Nathpa, which is hardly ten kilometres away from the site of the disaster at Nigulsari. The landslide occurred right above the reservoir of the 1500 MW Nathpa-Jhakri hydropower project. In October and November, the busiest period for exporting apples, the region witnessed multiple roadblocks in the same stretch near the dam. Most of the weddings in Kinnaur also take place in October and November. People wrap up their apple sales and there is a cash flow for the marriage season.

There is an old saying in our parts-

“If you eat using the same utensils used for cooking, it will rain during your wedding.”

I witnessed the intensity of the saying this year.

My cousin’s wedding was scheduled for 2nd November and to reach the wedding we had to cross this roadblock. The bus we were travelling by halted a few kilometres ahead of the block point. We got down and walked for a kilometre or so and another bus waited for the travellers on the other side. I heard someone express concern about the presents and gifts to the bride and groom, and that soon we should start an online transfer facility. On my journey, I kept wondering-

“What will be the tales of travel we tell our younger generations?” 

Of course, everyone will have their unique experiences to share but I bet each of the stories will be tagged with a cautionary message against the double-edged sword that is modernity. “Once upon a time, there was a young man who always ate in the same utensil used for cooking. He had to walk several kilometres to reach his bride’s house. Along the way, he had to tackle many big challenges (global warming, unregulated and unsafe mega structures that made rocks fall on his path and other misadventures)…”  

According to Himachal Pradesh’s (Cumulative Report) Statement showing damage during monsoon season, 428 people across the state died between 24th June 2023 to 13th September 2023 due to weather-related disasters, out of which 112 were just because of landslides. Total damages were approximated to be around 60 billion rupees. This does not include indirect losses such as that incurred by farmers, tourist businesses and small traders in Kinnaur and the mental trauma due to the repeated roadblocks. Heavy rains may act as catalysts but landslides do not occur suddenly.  It is the changing land use pattern and the disturbed slope stability that aggravates them. 

Whenever I go to visit my grandmother in her village Khadura, I am struck by the catchy slogans and the hashtag No Means No painted on the huge rocks along the road. One of them reads-

“Aaj Himalaya Jagega Lootne wala Bagega” (Today the Himalaya will rise and the plunderers will have to run for it.)

This is the region where another hydropower project, the 804 MW Jangi Thopan Hydro Power project, is proposed. The No Means No is a youth-led campaign and is a response against the proposed project. This campaign took shape in 2021 but there is a long history of protests and struggles across Kinnaur that have played a significant role in its formation. 

Accountability and independent inquiry for the repeated landslides on the National Highway is being demanded by many local people, including the campaigners of No Means No. Our politicians are quick to celebrate the opening up of road blocks or inaugurations of new bridges and roads, but will they not address the root cause of the repeated landslides? And with the Kinnaur people saying No means No, will the higher-ups pay heed? 

My grandmother once told me this very sad tale about one of her distant relatives. 

“To cross the fast-flowing river, a brother and sister tied a ‘thakpa’ (a strong rope made of sheep’s wool) around their waist. They then started crossing the river, lifting the sheep one by one in their arms. But the flow of water was very strong, and both of them were washed away. No one knows what became of them.”

Listening to her, I once again begin to wonder, what stories will we live to tell the coming generation? Journeys of roads and rivers, of choices, disasters and resilience?