Somewhere in the jungles of the rocky Kumaon
A phenomenon moved silent and stealthy.
Hamlets spread around the foothills creeping on
to the majestic mountain indifferent to nature.
Tribesmen lay dormant, lost to dreamless sleep,
in huts made of mud and thatch, like black dots
on a white sky, like unwanted appendages to
ancient ranges timeless sentinels to regal nature.
The irreverent knew not of the forces released
on their villages and miles of vegetation
green and vibrant. In the dead of the rain-
drenched dark night, sudden screams of
terror and pain sliced through the waves of
chill and smog waking thousands that slept
the slumber of the damned lot without a care.
Their horror-filled eyes saw the hill- sides
caving in and a rude shower of rocky soil,
ice-cold flood pounding down ending lives and livestock.
The gushing water sounded the alarm for
an ambitious, greedy race that never learns.
“You frail human being! Beware and never
trespass the sacred lands of Mother Earth.”
Kumaon is a maze of mountains, part of the Himalaya range, some of which are among the loftiest known. In a tract not more than 225 km in length and 65 km in breadth there are over thirty peaks rising to elevations exceeding 5500 m. But this hadn’t stopped the greedy from desecrating the stately ranges.