Almora, old & new

I have just returned from a short trip to Almora where I was invited to attend its first-ever lit fest. Since this is my mother Shivani’s birth centenary year, they had a special session to honour her as one of the most popular and famous writers from Almora. Naturally, I couldn’t refuse to go even though holding any kind of festival during the monsoon in the hills is rather foolhardy. The venue was the beautifully restored old Kutcherry of the town, a heritage building that is breathtaking in its location and architecture. So far, so good. The open-air amphitheatre, the main venue of the talks and music concerts, was a disastrous choice, for each time it rained (at least once or twice a day), the audience and the speakers had to run away! If this was not funny enough, walking through the narrow lanes of the atmospheric Almora bazaar in slush over cobbled stones was also a hazard. Anyhow, it was well-attended and I was very touched at the response to my session.

My husband and I have been going up and down for decades to meet our kith and kin and touch base with our roots there. Over the years, Almora has become slummier and dirtier and like all hill stations it is groaning under the furious makeovers taking place as it becomes a ‘modern’ tourist destination.

As old family homes are pulled down, new and wholly unsuitable cement boxes have taken their place. The gracious ambience of an old way of living in the hills and the laidback pace of life are almost gone. Yet, while one half of the old town is being rebuilt into a modern Karol Bagh-like settlement, the old Cantonment and some hilltop properties have been beautifully restored and modernised to be run as homestays (to avail the tax rebates given by the government to promote eco-tourism, I presume). We were lucky to find one and enjoyed it hugely.

Something more momentous is also happening, so my elegy on the loss of our childhood homes and lifestyle is merely the standard lament of old geezers like us. The migration of young Pahari men to the plains in search of a job that was once a matter of concern, is slowly reversing. Prosperous folk always had a small cottage in Nainital, Ranikhet and elsewhere but now there are hundreds of new estates coming up even in those rural areas that were once forgotten Edens. Filmstars, lawyers, doctors are just one part of those who have chosen our picturesque hills to build themselves a holiday home. The latest wave of migrants to the hills is young professionals who have decided to quit the rat race and their corporate lives in polluted cities, to create a community of like-minded friends.

Thanks to the Internet revolution, such tech-savvy youngsters can now work from the hills. Unlike the earlier ‘settlers’, they have introduced what I can best describe as a ‘gig economy’ and run NGOs that offer local youth opportunities for developing an enterprise that brings them a decent income, along with the comfort of living with their families. The mushrooming hospitality industry has a limitless need of chefs, waiters and accounting staff. What is more, local women, too, can have an independent income in this industry. In addition, there are nursing homes, small hospitals and shops that prefer to employ women because unlike most Pahari men they do not drink and disappear for days.

There was a time when we had to go for every little thing to Haldwani. No longer is this the case. Almora now boasts of a mall (nearly fainted when I saw it) and there are well-stocked grocery marts in village locations such as Orakhan and Nathuakhan that may even keep artisanal cheese made locally by some enterprising ‘desi’, pottery items, fresh pickles, jams and hand-knitted stuff made by a women’s self-help group to be sold at one of the several craft shops dotting all along these villages.

The Scooty has brought the kind of mobility that one could not have imagined a few years ago. Like mosquitoes buzzing in irritating zigzags, they zoom up and down to deliver goods (even Himalayan trout, I’m told) to the rich and famous who live in remote locations. These young boys with their hair crafted into frightening spikes, baseball caps worn in reverse, wave confidently at passers-by as they zoom past. Some are multi-taskers who can drive, fix leaky taps and roofs, repair broken hinges et al and become rocking ‘deezays’ by night at weddings where you will be served ‘Chineez phood’ rather than Pahari poori-aloo-kaddu feasts. As for the ubiquitous momo, ‘chowmeen’ and Maggi fusion food is another culinary revolution that has shaken the roots of old Kumaon.

Lastly, the determined bid to promote religious tourism in our devbhoomi has brought a completely new wave of bhakts. As celebrities such as Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, Hollywood stars, tech giants from the US and our own Virat Kohli were transformed by their pilgrimage to Baba Neem Karoli’s Ashram at Kainchi, word quickly spread among the chatterati.

The result? Long traffic jams all along the area, hundreds of food stalls, ‘hotels’ and trinket sellers have made this once-peaceful ashram near Bhowali something else. The Pahari hustlers who promote such bhakti are laughing all the way to the bank.

Jai ho!