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.






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