The Merciful

 "He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how." — Friedrich Nietzsche

The street was overflowing with people, it seemed very narrowly  laid in the vast spread of greenery. It was vacation time for the kids in North India, in South India the schools reopen in the first week of June. People love being at Shimla in Himachal Pradesh in summers, it was the summer capital during the British rule, it has a pleasant weather being a hill station. There were people of all age groups. Every one seemed rich and  debonair as they made their way towards an opening sporting two lifts. One has to pay rupees ten to go to mall road in Shimla via this lift. The lift carries eight people at a time, moves  half way up and then we need to walk through a by lane to enter another lift which carries us above the hills on a steep mountain road called the mall road which has several small shops lined on either ends. There are a few diversions which lead us to clearings where there is the church, temple and a summer festival was also going on in a large clearing. It turned warm with the rising sun and speeding up crowd, shopkeepers began briskly selling their wares, we trudged on searching for something special for our kith and kin. After the shopping we looked around for the lift area, but it seemed very far, however we saw a narrow staircase moving down to the area where our car was parked, we moved down regretting our decision as the stairs were  narrow and uncomfortably crooked that made the  descent  very difficult . I looked around to see a person fair and strongly built, who was gradually moving along the  mountain slope towards these stairs heading to mall road. The only distinction was that he was hauling a brand new refrigerator in a brown carton strapped to his back. There was total indifference to this sight which made me understand that it was a common spectacle, a little ahead I saw men and women awaiting to carry sacks of onions to mall road high up on the road, mind you the sacks were a hundred kilos and above. On questioning I came to know that these scenic tourist spots had no source of employment for the localites, and as they heaved weights they reminded you of animals used for  dragging loads reminding me of ancient Sumerian world, when human beings were used as beasts of burden.

At the hotel I met stewards who were working as room service boys and errand boys in spite of a degree in Hotel management for rupees 4500 per month.They lived in pathetic condition in the villages in small hutment resembling the slum areas in Mumbai.

The women who lived in villages walked the steep mountain  roads covering long distances to sell wild berries and cherries. They pleaded people to buy it but people prefer buying cherries which are presented well in beautiful packed cartons as it looks hygienic, fresh and is easy to carry along. The most common means of travel in these places were tourist cars, but the tourist loved mounting horses and yaks and took numerous pictures to post it on social sites.

At Kufre,  20 km away from Shimla, I noticed many horses and a few yaks. The localites use these as a means of transport on the steep mountains. They either use these animals or just slide through the short cuts formed due to soil erosions in the mountain valley where there are monkeys, bears snakes and other animals  to reach their homes in the valley. Many of the localites moaned of having been bitten by snakes, and then were brought back to life when one amongst them would suck the poison out. They had never heard of antivenin and I did not know an equivalent in Himachali. These localites had a perfect indulgence with the car drivers, who were arranged by makemytrip,  yatra.com or any other tourism department to take tourist for a horse ride with a directive to pay some amount to the driver. We often found the innocent localites earning lesser than the car drivers who were shrewd being city bred. We had a young boy who took us to the snow point, high up in the snow clad mountains. We were asked to hire clothes , gum boots woollen socks by warning us that we would freeze on the Himalayas, we found everyone akin, and so paid three thousand for those few hours. The lad promised us Ice skiing on the iced slopes on the Himalayas. During our interaction we understood that the lad hardly got any money in the transaction and his whole day was spent in being an itinerant. Further, he said that the tourist  jobs were only during the tourist seasons in summers and in winters. During the rains they needed to look out for other jobs.We however found they were the most loving people despite their hardships. They had a great deal of decency, goodness and dependability which by no means is found in developed states. They were kind, sympathetic and spent all their valuable time while we kept aping at their vulnerability and inabilityto get a proper job. They were worse than those  daily wage labourers who at least have a job, these men need to look out for a different job each day according to the season . 

It reminded me of Jug suraiya’s article ‘What a Waste’ in Times of India where he says that financial desperation  inspires Indians to move to alien lands despite the fact that they have to learn new skills, keep out of the punishments and law, learn new language  and try to survive in the hope of earning wealth in a distant inhospitable clime. They may not cause a brain drain like professionals however they are no lessy witty with strong innate abilities which have helped them survive. Conceivably a country grows when the people are able to endure and contribute in their own capacities. Himachal with its unstinted environment should have been a challenge for any other state in employment and well-being of its people.

"We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it." — Rick Warren