https://www.deccanherald.com/opinion/by-the-roots-of-the-deodar-3157786
A few months ago, we were holidaying in Himachal Pradesh. Our itinerary included both the popular and also, some less frequented destinations. Our penultimate stay was at Batseri, a quiet hamlet in the Sangla Valley. The property offered us stunning views of the snow-clad Himalayan peaks, and the emerald waters of the Baspa River, weaving its way over rocks and pebbles.
On the second day of our stay there, we made an exhilarating day trip to Chitkul, the last Indian village on the Indo-Tibet border, and headed back home in the afternoon. To access our resort, we had to cross a bridge over the Baspa, navigate a very steep climb, and then hit the concrete pathway leading to the building. Once we crossed the river, our driver pulled over to the side of the road. Ahead of us, several cabs, motorcycles and a tempo were lined up. Confused, we alighted and walked ahead to probe the matter. An old deodar tree, a part of the property, had got uprooted. It slumped over the boundary wall, and lodged itself right across the path, blocking all human and vehicular movement.
The ancient roots and gnarled branches of the tree, outlined against the fading sunlight, gave it an eerie look. The administration had swung into action. The monotonous whirr of the giant chainsaw cutter axing down the tree into large chunks, and the occasional thud of the felled logs, posed a sharp contrast to the gurgling of the river or the twitter of the home-bound birds. The hotel premises housed a sprawling apple farm which employed a large number of local residents. Given the gravitas of the situation, they all enthusiastically joined in the clearance work.
With no clear time span in sight, we simply strolled around or sat on the kerbside. What struck me here was the complete unpredictability and difficulty of life in the mountainous regions. What started as a smooth, half-day trip to a nearby site and back, now earned itself an unsolicited extension. For us, it was a one-off incident – for them, a part of life. The massive size of the tree, its sturdy roots enmeshed deep inside the earth’s womb, and the elevation, together made the task doubly arduous. Subsequently, a group of local women brought in large supplies of tea and biscuits for the entire workforce. The men took a breather as they sipped on the piping hot beverage.
The sun was setting, the air turned nippy, but our hearts felt warm. Here was a community living under the constant threat of nature’s erraticism and yet, upholding a sterling sense of solidarity and fraternity.
Eventually, a narrow tract was created and the stranded people – tourists and villagers alike – trundled out, feeling relieved.
