rediff.com: Josy Joseph reports on a valley of vice

Part 4

Through the fields of gold

Josy Joseph
Some 30 kilometres from Kullu on the Manali road, a path climbs to your left.
It is steep and precariously close to the rivulet below. It leads you to Meha village, which is where we are headed today.
I am accompanying Narcotics Control Bureau officials and policemen. Led by NCB Zonal Director Rakesh Goel and Deputy Superintendent of Police Kushal Sharma, they are on a raid to destroy cannabis plantations.
Meha is some three hours away. It is a typical mountain village, perched atop a steep peak, some 15 kilometres from the nearest motorable road.
On this ribbon of a path, you have to watch every step. A slip could land you hundreds of feet below.
You see no one on the way, no activity, nothing -- just stretches of mountain.
An hour and we see cannabis plants. Not too many, mind you, just an acre or so.
"There are villages where you can see acres and acres of cannabis fields," says Goel.
Most plants had their top dry or plucked off. "The villagers have already extracted hashish and the flowers from the female plants," Goel explains.
He tells me his is the first time the police and the NCB are coming together in a joint raid. "Tomorrow customs officials will also join us," he says.
THE raids, an annual feature by the police, begin sometime in September and are carried on through October. When I insisted I wanted to be part of one, Kullu Superintendent of Police Venu Gopal had warned me to be ready to "walk for hours and meet hostile villagers".
"If we destroy their fields, which they have been looking after for six, seven months, it would be a message to them," Venu Gopal had explained the rationale behind the raids so late in the year.
A couple of kilometres before Meha, we meet a group of villagers. Attired in their colourful traditional dress, they politely stand to one side with folded hands.
"Their politeness is just a façade," one policeman tells me.
Our party stops to destroy the cannabis around. The plants are between one and three metres. The female plants are rare, and are in demand as their flowers are dried to make ganja. Hashish is obtained from both female and male plants.
WE walk on again. My mouth is dry. I ask Kushal Sharma, a young police officer who used to teach sociology before donning the uniform, for water. He admits he too is thirsty.
A constable says the village is near and we would get water there. But it is another three kilometres before we reach Meha.
We see a group of women and approach them for water. "We don't have any," one of them says in the local dialect, her eyes flashing with anger. "The tap has been dry for days now."
"She is lying," a policeman says. He promises to get me water from the first house.
But there too the women turn us away. We walk towards the public tap in the village.
"These villages have taps and often a telephone," says DySP Sharma.
The tap is almost dry. A woman is patiently collecting drops of water. Fortunately, she is less hostile and provides us a glass and water.
There are cannabis plants growing around the village. The inhabitants are quick to proclaim their innocence -- the plants, they claim, are "growing wild."
"We know it is illegal. We survive on agriculture," says Ram Chand Thakur, 46, an affable man with a greying moustache and torn clothes. He offers us tea and some apples from his field.
"For the last two years the apple harvest has been really bad. These apples I had kept for my family," he says.
AS I talk to the villagers, a story of appalling official neglect, illiteracy and ignorance unfolds, justifying to an extent the narcotics trade that they are involved in.
The village has only a primary school. For further education, their children have to trek for hours. It has no medical facilities, not even a primary health centre. The nearest clinic is an hour away. A doctor comes there once in a while.
"If someone is seriously ill," a villager says, "we know he won't live to see the sunlight next day."
The children here, I find, have not heard of the Olympics. But surprisingly, there are dish antennas over some houses.
The village temple is a two-storied building in carved wood. It is majestic.
There is not a single person in this village of 200, who holds a permanent job. The most educated person is Rum Singh, 22, who dropped out after two years of college.
"I was studying in Kullu. I used to work with a tentwallah there to earn some money. But I couldn't carry it on, so I came back to the village," he says.
Rum Singh is now a teacher at the primary school.
Government officials seldom visit the village. "I think we are the highest ranking officials ever to have come here," Sharma says.
But foreigners do come, with dollars in their pockets. That's the tragedy.
Concluded
Page design: Dominic Xavier

Do mail us your comments
Valley of Vice | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The Rediff Specials

HOME | NEWS | CRICKET | MONEY | SPORTS | MOVIES | CHAT | BROADBAND | TRAVEL
ASTROLOGY | NEWSLINKS | BOOK SHOP | MUSIC SHOP | GIFT SHOP | HOTEL BOOKINGS
AIR/RAIL | WEDDING | ROMANCE | WEATHER | WOMEN | E-CARDS | EDUCATION
HOMEPAGES | FREE MESSENGER | FREE EMAIL | CONTESTS | FEEDBACK

	Part 4 Through the fields of gold Josy Joseph Some 30 kilometres from Kullu on the Manali road, a path climbs to your left. It is steep and precariously close to the rivulet below. It leads you to Meha village, which is where we are headed today. I am accompanying Narcotics Control Bureau officials and policemen. Led by NCB Zonal Director Rakesh Goel and Deputy Superintendent of Police Kushal Sharma, they are on a raid to destroy cannabis plantations. Meha is some three hours away. It is a typical mountain village, perched atop a steep peak, some 15 kilometres from the nearest motorable road. On this ribbon of a path, you have to watch every step. A slip could land you hundreds of feet below. You see no one on the way, no activity, nothing -- just stretches of mountain. An hour and we see cannabis plants. Not too many, mind you, just an acre or so. "There are villages where you can see acres and acres of cannabis fields," says Goel. Most plants had their top dry or plucked off. "The villagers have already extracted hashish and the flowers from the female plants," Goel explains. He tells me his is the first time the police and the NCB are coming together in a joint raid. "Tomorrow customs officials will also join us," he says. THE raids, an annual feature by the police, begin sometime in September and are carried on through October. When I insisted I wanted to be part of one, Kullu Superintendent of Police Venu Gopal had warned me to be ready to "walk for hours and meet hostile villagers". "If we destroy their fields, which they have been looking after for six, seven months, it would be a message to them," Venu Gopal had explained the rationale behind the raids so late in the year. A couple of kilometres before Meha, we meet a group of villagers. Attired in their colourful traditional dress, they politely stand to one side with folded hands. "Their politeness is just a façade," one policeman tells me. Our party stops to destroy the cannabis around. The plants are between one and three metres. The female plants are rare, and are in demand as their flowers are dried to make ganja. Hashish is obtained from both female and male plants. WE walk on again. My mouth is dry. I ask Kushal Sharma, a young police officer who used to teach sociology before donning the uniform, for water. He admits he too is thirsty. A constable says the village is near and we would get water there. But it is another three kilometres before we reach Meha. We see a group of women and approach them for water. "We don't have any," one of them says in the local dialect, her eyes flashing with anger. "The tap has been dry for days now." "She is lying," a policeman says. He promises to get me water from the first house. But there too the women turn us away. We walk towards the public tap in the village. "These villages have taps and often a telephone," says DySP Sharma. The tap is almost dry. A woman is patiently collecting drops of water. Fortunately, she is less hostile and provides us a glass and water. There are cannabis plants growing around the village. The inhabitants are quick to proclaim their innocence -- the plants, they claim, are "growing wild." "We know it is illegal. We survive on agriculture," says Ram Chand Thakur, 46, an affable man with a greying moustache and torn clothes. He offers us tea and some apples from his field. "For the last two years the apple harvest has been really bad. These apples I had kept for my family," he says. AS I talk to the villagers, a story of appalling official neglect, illiteracy and ignorance unfolds, justifying to an extent the narcotics trade that they are involved in. The village has only a primary school. For further education, their children have to trek for hours. It has no medical facilities, not even a primary health centre. The nearest clinic is an hour away. A doctor comes there once in a while. "If someone is seriously ill," a villager says, "we know he won't live to see the sunlight next day." The children here, I find, have not heard of the Olympics. But surprisingly, there are dish antennas over some houses. The village temple is a two-storied building in carved wood. It is majestic. There is not a single person in this village of 200, who holds a permanent job. The most educated person is Rum Singh, 22, who dropped out after two years of college. "I was studying in Kullu. I used to work with a tentwallah there to earn some money. But I couldn't carry it on, so I came back to the village," he says. Rum Singh is now a teacher at the primary school. Government officials seldom visit the village. "I think we are the highest ranking officials ever to have come here," Sharma says. But foreigners do come, with dollars in their pockets. That's the tragedy. Concluded *Page design: Dominic Xavier* Do mail us your comments Valley of Vice \| Part 1 \| Part 2 \| Part 3 The Rediff Specials
HOME \| NEWS \| CRICKET \| MONEY \| SPORTS \| MOVIES \| CHAT \| BROADBAND \| TRAVEL ASTROLOGY \| NEWSLINKS \| BOOK SHOP \| MUSIC SHOP \| GIFT SHOP \| HOTEL BOOKINGS AIR/RAIL \| WEDDING \| ROMANCE \| WEATHER \| WOMEN \| E-CARDS \| EDUCATION HOMEPAGES \| FREE MESSENGER \| FREE EMAIL \| CONTESTS \| FEEDBACK