Uttrakhand; the land of ghost barrens

By: Mohit Kulasari

Days back I went to my village to get a space from my busy schedule and also to meet my adorable grandpa. Like always, everything looked same; as always the silence was predictable. Although, my visit was of four days but, it was emphatic!
The starting day’s routine was quite lethargic as, whole day I just went snoozing. But on the third day I walked upon the roof to admire the silence of the valley; interesting part of Uttrakhand roofs are, that they are slanted and are made from the sliced stones. Well, the weather was jolly good and I was enjoying everything up to the mark. Everything was comprehended. During the time, I started to capture the astounding beauty around me; the old & gold architecture, the green canvas and the trees, fully fledged with fruits and a narrative history. Everything was fine but suddenly, something blew in; the mourning thought, which was all circulated in the range of my vision. Suddenly, someone knocked me!
Hey, how are you doing?
Well.. I am doing great! How are you doing?
Just living…ah.. well don’t mind!
Do I know you?
Yes, of course! Don’t you remember?
I am sorry, I don’t. Could I know you name, please?
Actually we are quite in numbers! Well try to go in the past.
I am serious; I don’t remember you and for god sake just leave me and let me enjoy my moment.
Ok, so you are also same, same as others, who have left us to survive in this great oblivion.
Oblivion! Are you serious? I did not leave anyone at such stage. Anyway, I don’t remember too!
Its heart rending that you have forgotten us, but still we do remember you. We remember everything, as how we were the shoulder of yours childhood; the time you spend in our laps. How you would complain to us about the bizarre you would create for your parents and get scolded by them ( hahaha..). We were the letter box of your complains and yes, a great listener too! Remember the hug you would give us and would go by the promise of meeting us at the same time. Well all we would get annoyed by your melodrama but always wait to see you again. Its been ten years of your departure, you have grown up into a lad. We seriously feel blessed but crestfallen too; as you no more remember us.
I am sorry! But still I am out of my memory.
As expected. Well, let us introduce our selves. I am the guardian tree of your village and there goes the other respective trees too! Under whom you shaped the most charismatic memories. The stony roof in which you are standing, once you would nit the dream of your wonderland and would lose yourself into the surge of your mind’s eye. The valley would bring a grin on your face and the fields, where you would feel the heights of your jolly childhood. But, we are shattered now, because we have been left as the ghost barrens. For the past ten years the trees have been producing products for anonymous, the fields have crave out for the gold, ones they would cultivate. The shredding houses have cried out for their survival. The history of our lifespan (once birthed by your ancestor), has started to lose into the nowhere race of mankind. But, its fine. Forget all of us but, we have a question for you – how would you reiterate about your spur ‘virasat’ to your next generation, when there would be left none?
Suddenly a blow of voice broke my concentration and the voice was of my sister, who was calling me out for the tea. But still, the voices were there humming into my ears; that were there in the search of their identity. The bonanza in the migration which has come up in uttrakhand is lethal from the perspective of social, cultural, economical and historical outlook. I don’t know whom to tick off for the situation, but yes somewhere we all have to accept the brutal attempts we have made to our ancestry. Either it includes the state echelons or the general public who have discarded their land( ghost barrens) for the hunger of vocations.
Still a impetus solution needs to be rolled out.