Where the Mountains Stories Are: Grassroot Ownership leads to a Better Ecological Health

 It takes some effort to reach the Mouchuki bungalow, especially if one decides to make the uphill trek from Suntalekha to the bungalow with a heavy backpack. However, the journey makes itself memorable as the forest walks along with you.

I was blessed to make that walk one day, burning some evil city calories as the sweat sucked at deep wounds and the constant state of tiredness that life becomes.

At a crossing, where boundaries are set and differences established, I happened to sit and watch the butterfly flutter. It was yellow in colour and perhaps that will be my maximum contribution to its description for it was yellow. About its name, I probably would have called it a yellow and black dots wala butterfly but modern science definitely has better, perhaps fancier name for it.

But speaking of this crossing which prevents tourists from entering the Neora National Park without a guide, it is also a symbol of local ownership pf the land.

As I sat here for countless moments, three moss collectors passed by as they mildly gossiped about me sitting in the corner. And then after a while, an ancient pastoralist tended his flock of goats and cows deep into the jungle, beyond the limits of what I could see from the crossing.

The desire to enter the densest part of the forest where locals could enter unhindered was overwhelming but all I could do was shift my position and try and see as far as I could. I walked steeply down as the road u-turned sharply and found myself looking at another wondrous view of the world.

There was a dense path going upwards, another steeply down and everywhere birds crackling. Makes me wonder whether we are entering the era of the hum of the bee getting replaced by the buzz of the drones.