In the peak summer of May, I decided to visit Mukteshwar, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of Nainital district of Uttarakhand, at an altitude of 2171 metres.
I had to rejuvenate my spirit and find solace in nature’s grandeur. The place was awesome with green lush meadows, the misty evening and gentle coolness in the air casting an enchanting spell. After reaching the place, I realised that it was the perfect place to find one’s inner self.
The next day, after a trek of around 13 km, my path led me to a village, a place that my resort owner had referred to as a “ghost village”, one abandoned by its original inhabitants. It was there that I had the privilege of meeting Kunti Devi, a warm and welcoming lady in her late fifties. As I was very tired, she offered me Buransh ka juice, a taste of the local culture of Kumaon.
Speaking with her, I found that the peace and tranquillity I had found in that heavenly place had a totally different meaning for her. She shared with me her daily struggles and the heart-wrenching story of the village’s decline, as evident from the abandoned, damaged houses made up of mud and stones and beautifully carved wooden doors and windows. She said that once upon a time, it had been a thriving community. Nearly a dozen families used to live in perfect harmony with each other. Tears welled up in her eyes as she recounted those times. Today, it was empty and abandoned. She said that people had migrated in search of employment and a better lifestyle. Her son has settled down in Delhi and visited her just once a year.
Despite the beauty of the Himalayas that surrounded her, her life was far from idyllic. She told me about her daily challenges in collecting firewood from the forests nearby and going 2 km to fetch water from natural sources. The fury of nature, especially during rain and chilling winters, made her life more arduous.
When I asked her to shift with her son to the comfort of a city life, she gave me a critical look, saying she had spent her whole life in harmony with nature. Moreover, if she left the place, who would take care of her village?
She offered me tea with jaggery. I realised that I had nothing to offer her in return, except my patient listening ears. I bid farewell to her with a deep sense of gratitude and respect for her strength and resilience.
As I departed after a few days of stay in that place, Mukteshwar remained in my heart as a heavenly place with serene beauty, but Kunti Devi’s narrative shed light on the struggles and sacrifices of those who call this region “home”.
Hilly areas of Uttarakhand not only have natural beauty, peace, and tranquillity but also uncounted stories of human endurance and challenges of rural life in those Himalayan foothills.
bhumika.lak27@gmail.com
