Kullu ravaged

Sarika Sharma

In his 1932 book ‘Himalayan Art’, Indian Civil Services officer JC French wrote that the Beas reminded him of the Rhine back in Europe and the castles (though abandoned then too) flanking its banks. A little less than a century apart, the banks of Beas are a picture of horror, misery, destruction and death.

When Neeraj Thakur, a lecturer residing in Chhruru (8 km from Kullu town) on the river’s left bank, stepped out of his house after three days of rain last Tuesday, three bodies stuck to the trees along the bank sent a shiver down his spine. “We have seen rains, but this was unprecedented.” Thakur’s house is in a relatively flat area, at a distance from both the river and the mountains. However, while the river had reached the outer boundary of their locality, they heard rocks falling from mountains all night.

Right from Manali to Pandoh, there has been violation of rules governing the disposal of debris. It is to be thrown at designated dumpyards, but was strewn along the riverside.

Joginder Walia | convener of Bhumi Adhigrahan Prabhavit Manch

Among the first visuals of destruction to come from Manali were those of Bahang (8 km from the town), which leads to Solang. Roadside shops were swept away by the river that had barely travelled a few kilometres from Beas Kund, where it originates. It was in full fury already. On a regular day, Bahang would’ve been teeming with tourists, adventure activities beginning right at the bank. Today, the Beas has consumed the road at several places, shops lie abandoned, insulated dungarees rented out to tourists even during summers still hanging outside the shops.

Rohit Negi, an Associate Professor of Urban Studies at Delhi’s Ambedkar University, was visiting relatives in Manali (his parents live at Banjar in Kullu) when it started to rain on July 7. It poured non-stop for nearly 70 hours. “On July 9 afternoon, I walked down to the National Highway along the river. The volume of water was several times above normal; half of the four-lane highway had already been washed away,” recalls Negi. By the next day, a large patch of the highway had disappeared, cutting off Manali from the areas downstream. Stranded tourists walked around confused; locals surveyed the damage.

It was only when the weather got better that people realised the extent of the damage. “Several buildings had disappeared. Huge rocks and thousands of boulders lined up what was earlier a busy road and market,” says Negi.

Further down, the river claimed the newly built highway at several places on the right bank, including Kalaath, 17 Mile and Raison. The ramp to Kullu town’s Bailey bridge at Akhara Bazaar was washed away. The left bank, most of which is at a higher altitude, was spared, except for a 500-metre stretch at Chhruru.

At Bhuntar, the Beas widened further with Parbati river from Manikaran joining in. Here, it claimed more than 20 shops, several homes and a chunk of the road. Amit Sharma was in Noida when his four-storey house came crashing down. “A part of the concrete wall along the river had been damaged for some time now. The river in spate damaged it further. That along with illegal mining of sand and boulders aided the change in the river’s course,” says Sharma.

“My late father had built this house with his life savings. We are emotionally, physically and financially drained,” adds Sharma, his voice choking. The water has receded, but the Beas now flows through where once stood his home.

The locals have been reminded of the 1995 floods which caused a huge loss to life, property and infrastructure. Back then, a little island ubiquitously called Tapu, where shops had come up right in the middle of the river in Kullu, had been swept away. The river had also claimed the water-run flour mills along the bank. Roads and bridges had been lost. But no lessons were learnt. This time, the losses are much higher with the four-lane NH damaged.

PWD Minister Vikramaditya Singh has put the blame on illegal mining. Environment activist Manshi Asher says mining is also being done to feed the large-scale construction work — be it for tourism, dams or four-lane highways, which all governments have pushed.

Joginder Walia, convener of the Bhumi Adhigrahan Prabhavit Manch, says that right from Manali to Pandoh, there has been violation of rules governing the disposal of debris. “It is to be thrown at the designated dumpyards that are within 10-km radius of the construction site, but was dumped by the bank. When the rains came, the debris raised the water level, causing flooding. Also, government policy says that any construction by the river has to be at least 50 metres away (recently revised by the High Court to 100 metres). But we have hotels, shops and homes bang on the bank. We invited trouble.”

An urban practitioner and scholar of the Himalayan region, Negi says: “Rampant construction proximate to rivers and streams across sites like Manali, Kullu, Tirthan and Jibhi puts buildings and people at considerable flood-risk. The development of highways so close to the river is also unscientific. Opaque decision-making by NHAI is at fault here. Its engineers must be made answerable to the public at large.”

Negi says these floods underline the urgency of comprehensive planning of infrastructure and tourism in the Himalayas, and the HP government must task a skilled, sensitive, and open-minded team of individuals to advise.

As life limps back to normalcy, people will soon forget these nightmarish times. Banks will be encroached upon, multi-storey buildings will come up, mining will go on. But the river doesn’t forget. It will reclaim its course.