The complications of the simple village life!

The joy of being !

This blog post is translation of an article published in marathi daily 'Loksatta' under column 'Ghatmathyavarun' on 26th April, 2017.

For the past 12-13 days I walking southwards on the Sahyadri plateau. As the plateau here slopes down gradually, stepwise towards coastal strip in the west, I could not see the western cliffs of the mountain range. However as I reached Kurungawadi, situated at the foot of Kulang fort, I could see the steep descent of the cliffs jumping down to the Konkanstrip. I was now literally 'walking on the edge'!

The landscape thereafter was a feast to the eyes. Kalsubai, Alang-Kulang range, and then Katrabai pass near Ratangad and then Harishchandra fort via Pachnai- the journey through these mountains was a dream come true- literally and figuratively.  As I sat on the edge of Kokankada at Harishchandragad, I realized that this was the 30^th day of my expedition. The exact midpoint of my 60 day journey. I thought of the efforts that went into the planning of this expedition.  I was to undertake the complete journey alone, but it was made possible only by the efforts of so many people, who worked untiringly as a team. Route mapping, procuring the necessary equipment for the documentation of the life of the mountain people, and the costing, needed to be taken care of. At various pre decided destinations, various friends came to meet me and they were assigned the task of providing me with the necessary supplies, as I could carry only a limited amount of luggage with me. The travel costs of these friends, the cost of equipment, cost of guides, who would be needed in difficult unknown areas- all these expenses had to be met.  And the required amount was considerable.  Trekkers, who found this expedition fascinating, lent a helping hand. Mr. Rajesh Gadgil of Jai Kajal partially sponsored this endeavor and also personally gave some amount. Mr. Vasant Limaye also helped. With this help the expedition seemed more of a reality and not just a dream.

I received great help from the villagers here. They welcomed me, fed me and gave me a bed. Trekking and tourism is quite unknown in the region from Satpuras to Traymbak. It is therefore not seen nor exploited as a source of income. People here would not accept money in return for food or shelter or  as  guides. Homestays or food as service rendered for money is not a known concept. At times I was in a fix. Do I offer money for the food or would they take offence, was the perpetual question that I faced.

After Igatpuri however, the situation is different. Harishchandragad, Kalsubai have earned quite a good name as eco-tourism and trekking destinations. Locals here have now acquired the necessary skills and offer their services as guides or homestays or as local food joints. It is mutually beneficial for both-the trekkers, tourists and the locals, whereby, the one gets required facilities the other the much needed money. Were the regions around Satpura and Bagtaan to develop as eco-tourism or trekking destinations, they would benefit the locals similarly and also attract people in this beautiful area that still remains neglected.

Ruminating over these thoughts I was sitting at the Konkankada with Dhananjay Madan, an experienced trekker, who had accompanied me on this stretch. His encouragement gave me the required strength to complete the rest of the journey.

As we sat there, I looked around. Konkankada offers a magnificent view. I sat there mesmerized by the beauty around and I had sudden tears in my eyes. Tears of gratitude, gratitude towards all those, who made my dream possible, tears of happiness at the sheer beauty of nature. Tears of joy that I was back in my beloved Sahyadris! Tears of happiness for being here, for just being!

Prasad Nikte

walkingedge@gmail.com

Life goes on !

This blog post is translation of an article published in marathi daily 'Loksatta' under column 'Ghatmathyavarun' on 19th April, 2017.

As I reach the house, I can see around me the usual pastoral scene at dusk. The men returning from their farms, women getting the food ready. I have reached the house of Ullusha Bhoye, a large and happy family with children and grandchildren. They are all Malkaris (Malkaris abstain from alcohol and non-vegetarian food and usually participate in the Vaari, the annual trip to Pandharpur). I have the usual dinner of bhakri and pithla and sit on the cot in the aangan surrounded by the early night sounds. Children playing, while getting ready for bed, men talking, women closing the kitchen for the night.

I sit there and think back over the past few days. A few days back I took leave of my new friend- The Satpuras.  I thought of Mandwa, a market place in the Satpuras, and Daab, a place of religious importance for the adivasis, since it is believed to be the abode of their goddess Yaha Mogi. In their tribal language Bhillori, Yaha means mother. I remembered the ghat that led me from Daab to the plains below. It was scenic and beautiful and as I climbed down a considerable distance, I could see far away to the south, shimmering in the haze, a blurred line on the horizon – and I felt a thrill run through my body! Sahyadris!

I thought of the journey from Akkalkuwa to Haldani, the trek through Gujarat on my way. (Towards the south of Akkalkuwa is the dam Ukkai on the Tapi River. So I had to take a detour towards right in order to cross the river. Here a small strip of Gujarat enters Maharashtra)

The small village of Haldani, the mild mannered people there, and the overnight stay at the pastor’s place.  My surprise at the villagers, who are placed financially in relatively much better position, are relatively better educated, have small families with two children.

I tried to remember all the various languages that changed with the changing geography. In Satpuras - Pawri, Nuiri, Bhillori, on the plains Dehavli, towards Sahyadri Mavchi Gavit, which is also spoken in Nandurbar and also in Dhule on the Sahyadri plateau, but in a different dialect.  Not that I could understand the difference, since these adivasi languages were totally new and incomprehensible to me.

The small Khose ghat, that led me from the plains to the Sahyadri plateau and had me winded with its twists and turns. The journey from Haldani village to Khose ghat, through the semi deciduous jungle, with no breezes, stifling, leaving me hot and tired and parched, longing for a drink of cool water.

The stay at Salher at the foot of the Salher fort, with Sunil Bhoye.  My friend Rohit had given me his reference. Sunil’s father Kashinathdada was a mine of information on the region around. When Rohit was working at the Salher fort for Durgapratishthan, he got to know Kashinath dada and plagued him with questions about the fort and the surrounding area.  Rohit later wrote a book on Salher fort named Salher Takht, an excellent example of local knowledge and urban education coming together.

Thus I landed here at Ullusha Bhoye’s house in the village of Suple Dighar near Arjunsagar dam. He is the brother of Kashinath dada. With this thought I came back to the present.

I suddenly realize, it is a beautiful moonlit night, fragrantly silent. I lie down on the cot feeling the warm, coarse touch of the blanket below. The family members are getting ready for bed. The youngest granddaughter of the family is asking her grandmother to sing a lullaby. And the grandmother starts singing in a sweet melodious voice. She is singing a folksong, asking God, addressing Him by His various names, where do we find Him?  Where is His abode? The child listens  and repeats the song as and how she can in her young, childish voice. Though she is getting the words wrong, she gets the melody right.  As I drift off to sleep in these old mountains, surrounded by these simple loving people, I think about how these age old traditions, wisdom and lessons of life are passed on from one generation to the next.  Of how life goes on !

Prasad Nikte

walkingedge@gmail.com

The Economics of Satpuras

This blog post is translation of an article published in marathi daily 'Loksatta' under column 'Ghatmathyavarun' on 12th April, 2017.

Last year I had the opportunity to go through the HSC 12^th std. Sociology textbook, which had information about the economics of the adivasis. As I was trekking through Nandurbar district in the Satpuras and the plains below, I almost read the chapter again!

The Adivasis practise subsistence farming. Cultivation is not profit oriented in any sense. Whatever is cultivated is used for the family, the surplus stored for difficult times like droughts. “We don’t sell the surplus grain, rather store it for later” said an old wrinkled man, who probably had been through such calamities. Droughts create a scarcity of food and a surge in the moneylending business. Moneylenders lend grain and retrieve it doubled in the form of interest. 

Payli (Measurement of grain)

If the hungry families borrow a payli of grain, they have to pay twice the amount, ifthey pay back within six months. An annual repayment would be 4 paylis of grain! This exorbitant interest rate plunges the poor into a self-perpetuating spiral of indebtedness and poverty. However in the recent years moneylending has been on the decline. Food grains are available at ration shops at a cheap price. Government schemes have made rice, wheat available at 3 to 4 Rs a kg. As a city person and seeing through the cocoon of luxurious city life I always thought -such schemes tend to make these people lazy. But the experiences here were a real eye opener. These schemes have helped alleviate the food scarcity to a large extent.

Apart from subsistence farming the adivasis here are hugely dependent on the jungle for most of their other needs. Building material, firewood, mahua flowers, everything is procured from the jungle. The simple architecture of the huts requires bamboo, wood and mud – all jungle produce. Houses are built with the help of other village members. They are paid for their help in kind- either a meal or mahua alcohol. Cash is hardly used here. It is neither required for the materials nor for the labour. Therefore the demonetisation was of really no consequence to these people. Except to the labourers, who went out to earn their daily wages.

I started my journey just after Holi. The Mahua tree was in full blossom. Almost in every house I saw Mahua flowers laid out on the roofs to dry. They are then stored in bamboo baskets. Seeing these flowers in such huge quantities, I was pretty sure that alcoholism would be a major problem here. In fact throughout my stay in this region, I hardly saw anybody drunk. Mahua alcohol is used only on auspicious occasions or for celebrations. Then what do they need these flowers in such large quantities for? Actually these flowers are used as currency here. Barter system is still prevalent in this region. As I was sitting in Malsing Patil’s verandah one day, I saw a man buying two bunches of spring onions for a payli of mahua flowers.  These flowers are sold at 60 Rs a kg at the market place.

Mahua flowers laid out on the roofs to dry

The adivasis are self -sufficient. However with changing times they are now trying to cope with the new economics. People like Dr. Narendra Padvi are helping, educating these people, creating work opportunities for them (he has started a factory where dried raw mango is produced). Dr. Narendra Padvi completed his MBBS in Mumbai 40 years back and returned home to his native village, Bhagadari, immediately. Since then he has been working tirelessly for the people here. Although an ex MLA he leads an extremely simple life and is well respected throughout Nandurbar district. I met him first on my way to Bharad and since then have been treated as his guest by the locals here.

As I left the mountains and came near to the smaller cities, I realized the difference in the lifestyles of the adivasis here and the mountain people. The tribals there are relatively self -sufficient and lead a peaceful and satisfied existence. However the adivasi settlements near the smaller cities have turned into slums, with alcoholism, gambling rampant.

Comparing the two I am faced with the eternal question – Do better work opportunities, more facilities, better transport really enhance our quality of life or deteriorate it?

Prasad Nikte

walkingedge@gmail.com

Tender Shoots

This blog post is translation of an article published in marathi daily 'Loksatta' under column 'Ghatmathyavarun' on 5th April, 2017.

From Bharad my journey took me along the banks of Narmada into the Satpuras. Passing through villages like Thuvani, Keli, Atti, Paula, Debramal, I was getting to know the mountains better. 

While going to Atti from Keli

The Satpuras – hilly, rugged, bare. The sparse green patches accentuate the barrenness of the mountains .With steep cliffs, craggy mountaintops, narrow passes and rocky paths, the range presents a formidable challenge to human existence. The living conditions here are harsh and unforgiving. As the small springs and pools dry up in the summers, the villagers trek up and down and across the mountains daily, driven by their need of water. With the exception of a few, most of the villages and hamlets are isolated and cut off from the outside world, with no roads just mountain paths taking you there.  The few that are connected by roads can be reached by jeeps, which are the only mode of transport in this hilly region. The journey one way costs around 100 Rs.  an expense hard to bear for the villagers here, who need to travel to the taluka or market for almost everything: from groceries to land matters. There are no irrigation facilities and no electricity either .Just a few solar lamps.  Inspite of the primitive existence, schooling and education seem to have taken roots. There are hostels for adivasi children, who complete their B.As and B. Eds. But lack of work opportunities in this area takes them to taluka or faraway cities and these villages remain as they are: remote and primitive.

Thus I journey through these mountains, under the scorching sun, awed by the sheer cliffs, humbled by the tenacity of the people living here. 

Bhakri

Come lunchtime, I find myself in a small hamlet. My body needs rest and food. But I need not ask! As I approach the airy bamboo huts and greet the people living within, the woman of the house has started preparing a meal for me. The simple meal of jowar or millets Bhakri and pithla (made from udid dal or other lentils)  accompanied (rarely) by an onion or a raw mango (hardly any vegetables to be seen here) is immensely satisfying to a hungry stomach and the hospitality drives away any small pangs of homesickness I have. I thank these simple loving people with all my heart and move ahead. As I lie on the bed in the evening on a cot provided by some good family, covered with blankets, with a stomach filled with yet another meal lovingly prepared, I think of these mountains and the people here. 

Villagers

I lie there under the star studded sky, the quiet darkness enveloping me and cool breezes soothing my aching limbs. I wonder at nature’s marvels and how life never ceases to surprise me, as I think of the tender shoots of humanity that thrive and flourish in these harsh, barren mountains.

Prasad Nikte
walkingedge@gmail.com

On the banks of river Narmada

This blog post is translation of an article published in marathi daily 'Loksatta' under column 'Ghatmathyavarun' on 29th March, 2017.

While planning my expedition: Walking on the Edge, my wanderlust urged me to move beyond the Sahyadris and I decided that I would extend my expedition to the Satpura range. As a trekker I am well acquainted with the Sahyadris – the range, the peaks, the mountain pathways, the villages, the hamlets –are old friends now. But Satpura was new to me. Of course as the scope of the expedition extended, I and my team, we started looking for an appropriate starting point. And we found Bharad!

Seemingly a mere name on Google earth, Bharad is situated on the banks of Narmada, where the borders of Maharashtra, Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh meet. Its location made it an ideal starting point for my expedition.  Since none of us really knew, where this village actually was, we had to undertake another journey before the expedition: in search of Bharad.

On the way to Bharad, you start ascending the Satpuras after Dara village. Satpuras – dry, barren, with almost no vegetation, but aflame with palas: the Flame of the forest, silent with no vehicles on the hilly roads except for the infrequent blue state transport bus and some jeeps, which carry 30-40 people clinging to each other on a single journey, – was as different from Sahyadris as chalk and cheese. The hilly mountainous roads make the villages and hamlets almost inaccessible and therefore leave them isolated and alone.

Traversing these hilly roads, we finally reached our destination, a small village, inaccessible by road, far away from the madding crowd, with no electricity, no regular water supply, just a few solar lights. It is actually a hamlet surrounded by hills, comprising of just about 10-15 scattered bamboo huts, situated very close to the banks of Narmada. Due to the proximity of the river and the ferry service, villagers have an easier access to and travel to Kawath, a taluka place in Gujarat for their day to day supplies – right from vegetables to things like cupboards etc.  The lack of transportation, the high costs and the travelling time, make it difficult for them, to come to Maharashtra. So though technically in Maharashtra, Bharad is better connected to Gujarat. This connection is reflected in various things for e.g. language – with us they do speak Marathi but with a definite Gujarati accent.  Their communication is in their own dialects ( Bhilori and Pawri), which are totally incomprehensible to us.

Being on the banks of Narmada and near the dam has forced a rehabilitation of the village once and the villagers may have to move again across the mountain to Chinchkhedi. However the proximity of the dam has not improved the living conditions here. Lack of irrigational facilities leave the villagers at the mercy of the rains. Selling mahua flowers, working on daily wages and monsoon farming are the only means of livelihood here.

We reached Bharad as total strangers. But the villagers welcomed us with open arms. Their houses have walls of bamboo mesh, not plastered with mud and therefore welcome the sun and the wind.  These houses gave us an equally warm welcome, offered us everything- food, shelter, warmth, help. The villagers were ready to guide me through the unknown Satpura and help me get acquainted with these mountains better.  From here, with the friendship of these people, I have started my journey: Walking on the edge. To the north on my right are the Vindhyas, to the south the Satpuras and as I walk along the banks of Narmada I ask myself:  How well would I get to know these mountains? I don’t know yet. But yes, I would love to know these people better, as pure, and as untouched as the mountains themselves.

Prasad Nikte
walkingedge@gmail.com