Reels, monkey antics and rubbish: When civic sense takes a Himalayan tumble

Somewhere between the plains and the first hairpin bend into Himachal Pradesh or Uttarakhand, something curious happens to the average tourist. Civic sense quietly disembarks. It simply disappears. 

What follows every long weekend is now painfully familiar. Tourists from the plains storm the hills like they’ve won a lifetime supply of irresponsibility vouchers, transforming snow-capped serenity into a giant, litter-strewn tailgate party. 

Having pored over the endless circus in news clips and social media feeds — those viral jams, trash avalanches and tone-deaf shirtless antics — one cannot help but chuckle bitterly at the annual ritual: plenty of selfies, zero self-awareness.

Behold the majestic 13-km Manali-Patlikuhal jam, where Delhi-NCR and neighbouring states day-trippers ditch their low-slung sedans and porter luggage like reluctant sherpas, auditioning for Survivor: Himachal Edition. 

Shimla-Manali reels under 8,000-10,000 vehicles daily, trapping even the culprits for 24-hour marathons in their own chaos — three lakh invaders projected, because why plan when you can honk? Cops play human Tetris to free the mess, while locals ponder if Everest was this exhausting.

Nullahs bloated with plastics, Tirthan Valley’s pristine brooks auditioning as Delhi’s next landfill. Apparently, 70% NCR tourists mistook ‘leave no trace’ for ‘leave your trash’. Viral Sissu clips capture sunroof revellers boozing through a 40-day tourism ban, as if ‘customs’ meant ‘costumes for clowns’. 

Mussoorie, the so-called Queen of Hills, chokes on wrappers while polite foreigners play cleanup crew - talk about role reversal with a side of rubbish.

Sari-stripping in Manali? Pistol-waving at Parwanoo-Shimla tolls? These gems have ministers begging for ‘civilised conduct’ on sacred Dev bhoomi, as if hill etiquette came with a spoiler alert. Shimla’s Mall Road? Locals’ no-fly zone amid selfie zombies and VIP tantrums, nothing screams ‘holiday’ like treating apple carts as photo props.

Uttarakhand's 2023 pledge to assess limits in 15 towns - from Mussoorie to Pithoragarh - gathers dust, ignoring NGT pleas for tourist registration tied to parking and rooms. Himachal splurges Rs 3,000 crore on tunnels and tamashas, blind to sewage tsunamis and landslide encores post-Joshimath. 

Activists like Anoop Nautiyal scream into the void: revenue’s golden egg hatches scarcity, smog and sobbing locals. Who needs limits when selfies are infinite?

At the heart of this seasonal circus is entitlement. A belief that paying for a hotel room includes the right to block roads, ignore rules and treat fragile ecosystems as disposable backdrops. Authorities respond with fines, caps and barricades, but enforcement has limits. Civic sense, unfortunately, cannot be outsourced to the traffic police.

So, what’s the solution to this recurring theatre of the absurd? Perhaps it is time for a radical idea: treat hill towns like places where people actually live. Drive less, walk more. Carry your rubbish. Lower the volume. 

Cap homestays, ape Sikkim’s plastic purge, slap ‘civic deposits’ refunded minus your landfill donation. Ban sunroof DJs, snow-illiterate cars and blast PSAs: ‘Hills ain’t your highway, hotshot’. 

The mountains have been patient hosts. The question is whether tourists can learn to be guests rather than invaders. Until then, civic deficient nomads will keep re-enacting Mumbai rush hour at 10,000 feet, one flung bottle at a time. 

Last Lullaby at God’s Gate

There was still a bit of chill in the April air as the first rays of the sun reflected upon the rushing waves of the River Ganga. A crowd had already built up on either side of the ghats (banks) of the sacred river at Haridwar even at that early hour. Some had already started their ritualistic bath. A holy dip at the Ganga is said to wash away one's sins to attain Moksha – freedom from the cycle of repeated death and rebirth.

Haridwar, which means the 'Gateway to God', witnesses a surge of devotees, pilgrims and tourists from all over the world during the Kumbh Mela. This is the largest gathering of people for a religious purpose in the world. Millions gather for this auspicious Hindu event.

But my visit to Haridwar was neither to celebrate the Kumbh Mela, which is being held after 12 years in this small Uttarakhand town from January 14 to April 28, and nor as a tourist. It was for a special purpose for someone sacred to me. I got lost amongst the ever swelling riots of colourful crowd as the ripples of the Ganga seemed to sing an eternal song of life and death.

The site of the Kumbh festival revolves between four locations on four sacred rivers and is celebrated four times every 12 years – at Haridwar on the Ganges, at Allahabad on the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna and the mythical River Saraswati, at Ujjain on the Shipra, and at Nasik on the Godavari.

The fair also witnesses one of the largest convergence of sadhus (mystics or wandering monks). The attraction among them is the ash-smeared Naga sadhus – who renounce everything materialistic. It is a spectacle to see thousands of naked Naga sadhus march through the town before taking a dip in the Ganga on the occasion of the first Shahi Snan (royal bath) of the Kumbh on Maha Shivratri (the day that marks the marriage between Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati).

Commercially, Kumbh Mela is also a great opportunity for ‘green-seeking squeegees’. Hotels rates in the town can even put the Himalayan heights to shame, especially the ones along the ghats. There are endless rows of shops selling anything from flowers to the latest Cartoon Network merchandise. Interestingly, I noticed a number of shops selling pitchers, apart various other brass and copper items. The reason, which I later discovered, was that Kumbh is a Sanskrit word for pitcher. And mela means fair. I got the picture.

The many small bridges over the Ganga not only connect the ghats but also the many alms seekers and advertisers with the thousands that traverse to either side of the river.  Haridwar is a place to connect – with god, spirituality, inner-self, life, death, people, target audience, religion, history, nature...the list is endless. 

And there are the many babas ('holy men' and yogis) being sought after, some internationally renowned with large followers base. With the number of gargantuan hoardings of 'holy men' that greets you as you approach Haridwar, it’s easy to figure out why it is known as the land of babas. The stretch is an OOH advertising maze. 

I marvelled at the sight of humanity immersed in an ocean of spiritualism, questism and commercialism, wishing I had a proper camera to capture it instead of my cellphone. Next time is too long a time. I left leaving the Ganges to sing the last lullaby for a benevolent soul. 

(Naga sadhus photo: Courtesy Kumbh Mela official website)