I learnt about Malana over the internet. There was something
intriguing about her profile – her political roots, her air of superiority and
the more recent flirtations with the psychedelic world. Her character it would seem has been sculpted out of the seclusion of
the mountains – her minimal contact with the outside world left her to find her
own solutions - rules to establish order, a creed to fill the loopholes and a
language to communicate the same. The result is proof that perhaps too many
philosophers and economists can overcook the broth. Her allegiance to a system
which the majority of the free world believes to be the most optimal, has made
her the subject of study of many a sociologist and historian. But then she was
discovered. And as contact with the
outside world grew, in came the vices of modernity endangering her ways and
thus herself.
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| Village of Malana |
My tryst with Malana was long overdue – I always felt like I
was fighting against time. Every month spent without seeing her meant she moved
a bit closer to the current year and to extinction. A change in job and location forced me to reset
my priorities on the travel front and in the middle of October 2011, I find
myself huffing and puffing up the slopes towards her. The path isn’t too steep,
but prosperity has had its way in the past year, albeit in only a physical
manifestation. My guide, who I hired from Jari, is amused. The panting and
frequent stops bring a smirk to his face, a proud and pompous expression that
lets you know that you, the urban creature, in your pursuit of your
intellectual progress have depreciated the dexterity inborn in your limbs! He
keeps pointing to the tele tower up above and tells me that we only need to
climb till that point. I look at the tower and get the sinking feeling that
Malana might have already passed me by. Meanwhile, I begin to notice the
cannabis on the slopes around. “This is the season of Charas”, the guide tells me, “and the police are in and out of Malana frequently.”
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| Central courtyard |
I finally cross the metal tower and move into the boundaries
of Malana. There really must be a crackdown on the hash trade – I read
travelogues describing locals trying to sell you Charas or cream the minute you
set foot in the village – none of this happens. Perhaps, they think I’m too
cheap! (Hash sells for Rs. 80,000/kg according to my guide)
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| Malana architecture resembles the Kinnauri style |
The first vision of the village hits me as one in transition
– housing is a mix of a more traditional wood and slate and a newer stone/brick
and tin/asbestos. There was a fire here in 2008 and many families switched to
stone and asbestos after that. The rubble scattered across the village suggests
that the work might still be on, or the neighbourhood doesn’t care! I sight a
local school, a shop with well known brands and even a non-veg restaurant! Clearly
the traditional shackles have been broken. But progress aside, I am still an
untouchable! Locals here believe that they belong to a superior race – they or
their houses cannot be touched by outsiders. I take the path that goes through
the village, designed so that you don’t have to go near their homes. My guide
keeps warning me each time I go even a bit off the path trying to get the right
photograph.
The Oldest democracy in the world!
Malanis are believed to be descendants of the soldiers of
Alexander the great, who took refuge here after their defeat. For centuries
they have upheld a democratic structure consisting of a lower house and an
upper house. Many historians believe this to be the oldest democracy in the
world.
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| Malani local |
But for a superior race, they aren’t exactly the most tidy.
The central courtyard that houses the temples and the parliament house is
strewn with plastic bags and all sorts of other garbage. Add to that the rubble
I mentioned earlier and you have quite a mess. I notice a few kids playing and
try to offer them some chocolates. Again
my guide intervenes and asks me to hand them over to him. He in turn gives the chocolates
to the kids – apparently he is pure for some genetic, spiritual or commercial
reason. He then goes on to tell me that if I were to lay my hands on them or
their houses, I would have to pay a Rs. 1000 fine. I have one mind to go ahead
and do it, purely out of curiosity. But then I pull back when he tells me the
money is to buy a hen which would be sacrificed to purify the place! All said and done, the chocolates have warmed up the kids. They are
happy to pose for a few photographs and continue to shout for some more chocolate,
even if they do it from ten feet away!
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| Kids will be kids! |
The last piece in the puzzle is the language of Malana – one
which had the overtones of the northern languages, but was certainly not
familiar. My guide tells me that years ago, a Rishi (sage) had ordered a local demon to leave Malana. The demon said
that he would do so on the condition that he be remembered in some way. The Rishi agreed and his language was given
to the locals of Malana.
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| The image of the local deity - the Jamdagni rishi with the Rs. 1000 fine notice |
Dusk is approaching now, and we are eager to get back to
Jari -the route to Malana is infamous for muggings. It’s a mixture of disappointment and
satisfaction as I leave the village. Disappointment at the dispirited effort by
the community to keep their identity alive and satisfied that I have witnessed
and experienced Malana before she is extinct!
On my way down, I bump into a group of foreigners. “How is
Malana?”, asked the Norwegian in the group. I reply that she had modernized and
was not like earlier visitors had described in their travelogues. The response
evokes puzzled looks from the entire group. They look at each other for answers
, baffled as if they suddenly realize they took a wrong turn somewhere on the
way up. The lady tries again, now slightly embarrassed, “Are they
cultivating?”
It’s a slow death for Malana. I can only hope this
travelogue along with the others online, are a fitting testimony of her.
POINTERS
- The closest village to Malana is Jari. The Om Shiva guest house is the best here – if it is closed, call the number posted on the front and the caretaker will come there in 10-15 mins
- You can also stay at Kasol & Manikaran – there are supposed to have better hotels/guest houses. Malana also has a guest house or two – you can stay there or camp ahead esp. if you trekking to Naggar over the Chanderkhani pass.
- You can get to within 2 kms of Malana by road. After that it’s a climb up to the top.
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