Distress in the Deodars

Shimla’s devastation is due to unplanned construction, disregarding alerts about its susceptibility to landslides, seismic vulnerability, overpopulation exceeding its capacity and ecological instability

- Ashwani Sharma

THE toy train between Kalka and Shimla, symbolic of a summer vacation in the hills for many North Indians, won't run for a while now. The spindly narrow-gauge tracks, along the UNESCO-declared world heritage railway line, over which the train has rumbled for more than a century, traversing T 96.6 kms delicately gliding past deodar forests, over chasms, through countless tunnels and what was once a stunningly cosy countryside before chugging into Shimla, have come undone in at least five places along the route.

The damaged rail tracks bear the scars of recent relentless rains, sudden, but devastating landslides, and decades of unchecked human greed that appear to have transformed the Queen of Hill Stations to the Crone of the Himalayas. This year, the spirit of Independence Day in the hill city was drowned by the crash and rumble of a hastily cast civilisation coming undone, leaving behind mounds of rubble and homes sucked into sludge.

Between August 13 to 16, several high-rise buildings collapsed like a pack of flaky cards, roads cracked, opening up wide gashes in the development spiel of successive governments, as rubble, mud, stones and even the mighty deodars-large coniferous trees symbolic of the terrain-rolled down its slopes. Deodars are known for their deep root systems which have stabilised Shimla's hillsides for decades.

Raaja Bhasin, a well-known Shimla historian, is passionate about the living legacy of Shimla. "Shimla speaks as much of the heritage of India as any other Indian town. It was built by Indian hands, paid for by Indian money and stands squarely on Indian soil," he says.