Leh, Apr 8 (ANI): A Ladakhi proverb says, "Ame oma nat met, gukh pe chhwa gal met" which means " As mother's milk is free of disease, running water is free of germs." Indeed, the gentle yet hardy people of this hauntingly beautiful yet tortuously difficult mountainous terrain have lived for centuries in the lap of nature, both benefiting from and equally nurturing its fragile eco-system.
The land of glaciers, stark, treeless mountains, of temperatures plummeting to way below sub-zero, is characterized by a symbiotic bond between the environment and human life, which has allowed the region to retain its immense natural resources and its immense charm.
It is this charm, which over the last few decades has attracted new entrants to the Ladakh, to the splendor of its untouched beauty, to its unique culture, its way of life. This has opened up an entirely new dimension in Ladakh's society, economy, and environment.
The influx of tourists drawn in from across the world, the presence of the Army in this highly strategic zone, which shares a border with Pakistan have been the triggers in this process. The fall-out has been a transformation of a quiet, pristine region, which reflected harmonious co-existence with nature into a bustling township, a global village as it were.
For the quintessential resident of Ladakh, it is like a nightmare unfolding. Construction activity is high to cater to the demand of the tourists. The number of vehicles has increased exponentially partly in response to this influx as well as the presence of the Army in this strategically sensitive zone.
Pollution is the fall-out of all aspects of these heightened activities. Heavy tourist rush means more plastic bottles, cans, and wrappers. In the absence of a viable garbage management system to cater to the enormous waste it all piles up. In the winter months people particularly labourers coming from outside use it to light bonfires to keep warm.
This itself sets in motion, another set of environmental concerns. What would a large number of such fires over long winter months do to this ecologically sensitive zone? This is a question that should be high on the priority of policy makers and implementation agencies in Ladakh.
Ladakh has always faced water shortage. The local answer to this has been the construction and use of 'dry toilets' to conserve water. Now, however, in response to the need of tourists, hotels and guesthouses have introduced 'flush toilets', which use an enormous amount of water, which the region can ill-afford.
The sanitation system is also not designed to deal with the sewage produced, which sets in motion another process of pollution. There is every possibility of such untreated waste entering the main water bodies.
There is another kind of pollution, which you cannot see or feel; yet it is robbing Ladakh of its infinitely serene and quiet environment. The decimal levels of noise have gone up. There was a time, not too long ago when the strains of the Daman (drum) surna (flute) used to be heard across the region, marking any festive or social occasion. This has all but disappeared, its music frozen.
Instead, there is another kind of noise produced by PAS (public addressing system) music systems, headphones, I pod, all accessories of the new culture invading Ladakh.
Old-timers in Ladakhi villages remember that more than 25 years ago, seasons were periodical, predictable. Today, things have changed. Pollution levels are high. Even in this 'cold desert' of icy mountains, the heat levels have increased phenomenally. Glaciers are melting at a high rate that too over short periods because of the intensity of heat. This means a run-off of the glacial water down the mountains, too quickly to allow the farmers a continuous use of water for irrigating their fields.
This leaves them literally high and dry once it flows off and they are faced with the specter of very little water coming down the mountains during the remaining season of the crops. A paradox of plentiful water and then a complete dry spell.
The snow on the mountains is good for nourishing the grass growing underneath. It actually fertilises the grass making it excellent fodder for animals to graze on, in the summer months once the snow melts.
The intense heat leading to the snow melting faster means that the time for this process to take place is too short. This in turn causes the wild animals, who are losing their habitat, their natural feeding grounds to come closer and closer to human habitation for food.
Amongst these is the Himalayan goat, Capra Hircus famed for its soft underbelly fur made into the priceless 'Pashmina'. The animal needs intense cold to survive and for its winter coat to grow into the required thickness, which it then sheds.
The hastened pace of glaciers melting, the loss of natural fodder for wild animals, are all interlinked, adding up to the bigger picture, which needs to be addressed. It is time to read what the signs portend for the region and for its people.
Most villages in Leh district (Ladakh has two districts, Leh and Kargil) are dependent on glacial water, not only for their fields but also for domestic use. With fast-melting glaciers and subsequent loss of water, does this mean that people living in these villages would be forced to migrate in search of a more amenable environment?
Not immediately perhaps but 20-30 years later? Is this then not the time to worry about it and do some course correction?
The present scenario is a far cry from what the region was. There is a sense of nostalgia, even loss amongst the older inhabitants of Ladakh, particularly those connected with the land, " Earlier the soil used to be very soft and thus easy to plough." They also rue that the taste of the vegetables and fruit has changed , according to the Charkha Development Communications Network. .
Someone needs to answer their questions. An answer; the region is seeking as a whole.
(The author is the recipient of first Sanjoy Ghose Special Ladakh Media Award 2010-11 for persons with disability) By Mohd Iqbal ANI)
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