THE REMAKING OF KEDARNATH
This is not an anti-Modi rant but an anti-development one. The five construction projects announced by the prime minister when he visited Kedarnath—a new township Kedarpuri, a new bathing ghat and a retaining wall along the rivers Mandakini and Saraswati, tourist facilities with wi-fi and, of course, their attendant towers, homes for the priests and finally the ubiquitous motorable road, all seem to suggest that nothing has been learnt from the devastating floods of June 2013. Hundreds died in that cloudburst and thousands were displaced by the surging water as it sought a way past the hurdles of unplanned urbanisation. This is a rant against the idea of ‘development’ underlying the prime minister’s announcement because the use of concrete and more concrete that it implies has produced grave consequences for the natural environment. One may remind the PMO that the scientific studies in the aftermath of the floods of 2013 concluded that the destruction was caused not by nature’s fury alone but by human action—haphazard, unplanned construction. So, plans for roads, towns, power plants in the mountains and dams across fast-flowing rivers have to be revisited as we cope with climate change and contemplate the need for sustainable growth. Sadly, the PM’s announcement in Kedarnath is a destructive idea of development. Further, since Kedarnath is a magnificent temple, in a magnificent valley surrounded by majestic mountains, the announcement is also out of step with the temple’s philosophy that underlies the Char Dham pilgrimage.
Let me now elaborate on the idea of ‘sustainable development’ and the ‘philosophy of the pilgrimage’—the second one first. To put it bluntly, Kedarnath is a pilgrimage site, not a tourist location. Even unbelievers have to go there as pilgrims, and selfies, even with the PM, should generally be discouraged. The redevelopment of Kedarnath should, therefore, be from the perspective of the pilgrims’ convenience. Calm, silence, magnificence, mystery—images evoked by Aurobindo’s poem Who—should envelop the pilgrim and transport her from the mundane and the everyday to the transcendental that she may only occasionally glimpse. That is what a pilgrimage in the Himalayas seeks to do. To quote the last lines of Aurobindo’s poem:
It is he in the sun who is ageless and deathless,
And into the midnight His shadow is thrown;
When darkness was blind and engulfed within darkness, He was seated within it immense and alone
Ponder over those lines. And be a pilgrim, not a tourist.
The prime minister’s sentiment to rebuild Kedarnath should be respected, but his enthusiasm needs to be redirected. Here are some suggestions. First, declare the valley a bio-reserve. Plan it on the lines of the Japanese botanical gardens, and collaborate with the M.S. Swaminathan foundation to identify and plant rare medicinal plants of the Himalayas. Involve the nearby villages in the redevelopment, so that the bio-reserve is protected and cared for and there is local ownership. It will also create jobs. Second, have the bioreserve produce medicinal oils in modest packaging, sold in simple shops, to build subtle connections between the ancient system of Ayurveda and the spiritual ethos of the temple. An estimated 400,000 to 600,000 people make the pilgrimage every season, and just their purchases could make the temple economy, and the village and bio-reserve sustainable. Some monasteries in Europe are doing this successfully. Third, create in the bio-reserve simple facilities to educate people about the fragile ecology of the Himalayas and the ecoservices the region provides the plains. Take a pilgrim’s tour of the bio-reserve where such education is possible, as you might in the spice gardens of Kerala. Try to give shape to this alternative model for redeveloping Kedarnath. And do it without concrete.