Kartikey Sehgal
–Drugs and economic disparity in the Indian home of the Dalai Lama. Standalone story. Other parts of the series here.

“Hey gorgeous, nice shoes”, they call out to a foreigner who is wearing shining dark red shoes. She turns to look at them; “thanks”. As a rule, the duo avoids complementing Indian women and any woman with a man. “Hey baby! You look beautiful” and “Wow, you are lovely”, they call out to women in their accented English.

I sit next to them and see that many women turn to look at the boys. Some of them smile and a few just walk on. Years of staying at Dharamsala has taught them to converse with foreigners. They tell me that the secret to stay out of trouble is to approach “only those cars that are without drivers”. Thus far, they have not faced problems from the women. “Foreign women are very open”, adds Jeleani, gleefully. His comrade Shahid adds, “Oh yes baby”. [photo above: Jeleani (l), Shahid (r)]

The duo own a small shop by the road at some distance from where I am staying. I see that they are not selling anything to the women; none of the metal jewellery, bags and postcards. “Business is just ok”, says Jeleani. “Theek hi hai”, according to Shahid. Unlike Jeleani and Shahid, another Kashmiri, Tariq Ahmad does not own a shop but leads customers to a shop of Kashmiri antiques owned by a North Indian man. But Tariq is spending most of his time dusting the shop. “Sale is low”.

He can converse in English but is happy to recite with me a poem by poet Allama Iqbal, at the end of which he tells me, “We are brothers. These politicians create problems in Kashmir”.

Tariq, Jeleani and Shahid live in an entirely different world from the one at Kashmir. Here they realise that they are equals and that they are not discriminated against either by the Tibetans or the local Himachal lads. Of course, night life is non-existent in the region but they hook up with their friends for beer and whisky. When there is little cash, then they can buy the easily available and cheap ‘desi daaru’. The dark streets are good enough to roam around a little drunk.

Work also comes a bit easy these days as sales are low but recession is high; they are hoping that the foreigners spend money on their goods. Tariq’s friend, also a Kashmiri, spends his time talking to foreigners. He works in a shop alongside and often stuns foreigners with what he calls his “universal accent” or the mid-Atlantic accent, although he has never stepped outside India. Even if the foreign girls don’t buy the Pashminas and sweaters he hopes to be remembered forever.

These young men are single and away from familiar surroundings. They won’t reveal the how and where but they say that they get lucky with women. I learn that despite its invisibility prostitution is prevalent and the trio know about the importance of condoms; they are available easily and in every other shop at McLeodganj. “Without them, what will the foreigners ever do?” quips a local Himachal lad.

I ask them about their love life and Jeleani and Shaid open up to me. They have come here to sell exotic goods but they end up “being more exotic than what we sell”. Foreign women like their fair skin and “deep brown” or green coloured eyes.

“Some of them don’t believe that we are from India”.
“Our skin colour and accented language makes them feel like we are Europeans”.
“They feel at home with us”.

In short, they are more in demand than their goods.

“The same goes for the exotic Tibetans and some of the local Himachal lads”; I leave the duo laughing over a private joke.

But unlike them Tariq is more serious about the decreasing sales. As I am about to leave, we hug and he asks me the rate of the buses that leave for Delhi. “In case, if I ever have to”.

 
Tariq Ahmad

This concludes the four part series of ‘Hidden Tremors’.

Share This Story

More »

Kartikey Sehgal
–Drugs and economic disparity in the Indian home of the Dalai Lama
A standalone story. Part One and Part Two of the series.

McLeodganj, with its constant buzz of commerce may not be comfortable for everybody. On all the streets you see some hapless faces calling out to you to buy their products. There are noticeably no beggars but the sellers—especially some of the Indian locals—have little self-respect; some of them try to trick you into buying authentic Tibetan goods until you tell them that you are not a foreigner and that their product is available in Mumbai and Delhi at lesser rates.

“Less money, so they want to make a quick buck through drugs Sir. You know how much you can earn through one sale to a foreigner?” asks a sixty-plus year old seller of shawls and clothes who has a pretty Tibetan girl to help him make sales. He doesn’t tell me more about the drugs.

I am on route to the Bhagsu Nag waterfall; among the most popular and scenic places at McLeodganj. The climb is a narrow path made up of broken stones and concrete tiles. The government has widened the path and earlier it was very risky and slippery, a local tells me. Even now it is easy to slip from the path; there is no fencing and at some places the turns allow for only one person to walk. Some Indian tourists who are walking with me decide to discontinue their journey.

It starts raining and I am witness to the first monsoon rainfall in the region. I am wet and reach the waterfall area along with a family and their baby. We cover the baby with handkerchiefs and a towel that a shopkeeper gives us.

“Which God’s image did you see on your way up to the waterfall?” the shopkeeper asks me.

Easy; there were several eating joints along the way that had their interiors decorated by paintings of Lord Shiva and Dalai Lama…

“Why do you think Lord Shiva is so popular here? Foreigners come and worship him for many different reasons. The most important reason being that he consumed lots of charas”.

The shopkeeper continues, “Foreigners sit here by the waterfall and smoke joints. But they don’t trouble anybody. Things are smooth here. The sky is blue and the water is cold. Everything is nice. Maybe all due to Shiva”.

After a short stay and a small meal at the waterfall, he informs me. “Maybe you’d like to climb a little way up”.

There must be a good reason why tourists would like to climb vary narrow and steep paths. Maybe Lord Shiva himself!

I discover a café with a swimming pool made up of water from the mountains. The cold mountain water is also used to cool soft drink bottles. There are large and well-groomed blue colour flowers; a lodge if you want to stay over; hand-drawn paintings of different Gods, including Lord Shiva.

“Do you sell charas here?” I ask the café attendants. They are dressed in ragged clothes and their menu includes a variety of pancakes and different flavours of tea. They smile and say that they don’t sell any drugs. A foreign couple that I had got acquainted with some time back are also in the café. There are some Indian men relaxing under the shade of the mountains. One of them is a Delhi-boy and we discuss the place, the weather and charas.

“Do you see that plant over there?” We walk to a plant that is close to the Shiva painting. “It is cannabis; used in the making of charas. Just take some of it”.

He breaks the leaves and stuffs them in my pocket and gives me directions as to how to get a “mild high”. We shake hands and I am on my way down from the café. I then meet the shopkeeper who is on his way home and tell him about the experience at the café.

“For proper charas,” he opens up now, “you have to contact any of the several Indian guys”, he tells me about the shops and the men. “And this one chap is old and black, sells shawls and…”

And he has a Tibetan girl in his shop.

(The rain-day photographs were lost to camera malfunction. The author climbed again the next day for these photographs)

Bhagsu Nag Waterfall

I am on route to the Bhagsu Nag waterfall; among the most popular and scenic places at McLeodganj. 

Four men from Punjab on route to the waterfall. They also looked at women and felt happy.

“Why do you think Lord Shiva is so popular here? Foreigners come and worship him for many different reasons. The most important reason being that he consumed lots of charas”.

The cold mountain water is also used to cool soft drink bottles.

Bhagsu Nag Waterfall 

I discover a café with a swimming pool made up of water from the mountains. 

“Do you see that plant over there?” We walk to a plant that is close to the Shiva painting. “It is cannabis; used in the making of charas. Just take some of it”.
 

 
The Bhagsu Nag trail

Share This Story

More »

Kartikey Sehgal

Read the first half here.

–Drugs and economic disparity in the Indian home of the Dalai Lama

continued…
“If you have the money, you can buy anything here”, says Manoj and feels strongly about the drug problem especially because it affects the local Indians more than it affects the Tibetans.

I have already learned from some locals about the rules of selling the drugs. You have to approach the vendors. If you are a foreigner then they will sell you what you want easily. If you are an Indian then they will be suspicious; what if you are sent to them by the police?

Tourists from Punjab and Haryana are charged more money for a tola of drugs than the Indians from other parts of the country. The reason is resentment. They are seen to come over and take much of the business from the local population.

Sonam admits that there is a growing resentment towards the outsiders. “The Punjabis open shops and restaurants and employ Tibetans just to attract customers. So the local Himachal population feels that we are eating into their business”.

Most of the market is targeted at the foreigners and the effects of recession are already visible. At around noon, I buy some wooden necklaces from a shop owned by a Tibetan family and ask them, “How is business?” “Very bad”, the man responds and adds, “You are the first customer since morning”. He knows the reason for the decreasing sales. “Foreigners are spending less money than before”. He hopes that his business will grow soon.

Not all are willing to reduce their prices yet. “It is tourist season now. More tourists will come and buy the goods”, says a Tibetan lady who refused any negotiation on the price of a kurta.

Manoj, however, is sure that the recession will affect the locals more than it will affect the Tibetans. He feels that the economic disparity between the Tibetans and the Indians is perpetually increasing. “Have you seen a Tibetan beggar here? Most of them are taken care of by their local government. Unlike the Indian locals, they won’t go hungry because of recession”. Manoj has made no sale since morning and doesn’t have enough money to last him the day.

Sonam agrees that Tibetans are well-off when compared to the locals. He says that he is aware of the increasing tensions between the local Indians and the Tibetans.

He credits the Tibetan population that works towards making their stay peaceful and economically beneficial. “Every Tibetan pays 30 percent of his income to the government. If you don’t pay this tax, then you are not even considered as a Tibetan. This money is then used for there own good”.

Manoj says that the state government must work towards making the life of the locals on par with the life of the Tibetans.

This view finds favour in Swargesh Kaundal who has forever stayed at McLeodganj and now studies in Chandigarh. In his holidays he comes over to McLeodganj and manages an eating place right next to the waterfall at Bhagsu Nag. “The Tibetans and the locals are very peaceful but sometimes now there are fights especially in the peak seasons”, he says and adds, “the Tibetans are very nice, but the number of monks seems to be forever increasing. What exactly do they do?”

The feeling that Tibetans have it easy is echoed elsewhere. “The monks come here every morning and buy the most expensive vegetables or eat what they like at any of the restaurants they like”, says a taxi driver not willing to be named.

“Also”, adds Manoj, “foreigners come here and sponsor the education of Tibetan children. But there is not enough provision for us from the government. We feel left out”.

Manoj is not married. He doesn’t feel that this is a good place to raise a family. He is 34 now and will consider marriage when he goes back to Punjab, where he feels there should be better provisions for him and his children.

Sonam agrees with every grievance that I bring to his notice. But he asks me to consider; “We are refugees and a displaced population. Naturally we get more sympathy and support from outsiders. But any benefit to us is not at the cost of the local population”.

It is to work towards reducing this disparity and “paying the debt to India” that Sonam has signed on as the ‘Health Project Officer’ of an organisation ‘Tong-Len’ that works among the slum-dwellers in Dharamsala.

Sonam says that he reaches out to about ten thousand slum dwellers in the Kangra district through this organisation and up to forty talented children are now studying in private schools.

“We are the perhaps the most successful refugees in the world, but the number of local Indians living in slums is increasing”, says Sonam. “We want to bring this number down. This country has given us so much love and we want to return it”.
 
End of Part One.

“We are the perhaps the most successful refugees in the world, but the number of local Indians living in slums is increasing”, says Sonam. “We want to bring this number down. This country has given us so much love and we want to return it”.

“Have you seen a Tibetan beggar here? Most of them are taken care of by their local government. Unlike the Indian locals, they won’t go hungry because of recession”. 

“Every Tibetan pays 30 percent of his income to the government. If you don’t pay this tax, then you are not even considered as a Tibetan. This money is then used for there own good”. 

“The monks come here every morning and buy the most expensive vegetables or eat what they like at any of the restaurants they like”, says a taxi driver not willing to be named.

 
Most of the market is targeted at the foreigners and the effects of recession are already visible.

Most shops target foreigners thinking that they will spend more money on the ‘Buddhist’ or authentic Tibetan products.

Manoj, however, is sure that the recession will affect the locals more than it will affect the Tibetans. He feels that the economic disparity between the Tibetans and the Indians is perpetually increasing.

“The Tibetans and the locals are very peaceful but sometimes now there are fights especially in the peak seasons”, he says and adds, “the Tibetans are very nice, but the number of monks seems to be forever increasing. What exactly do they do?”

Share This Story

More »

Kartikey Sehgal

–Drugs and economic disparity in the Indian home of the Dalai Lama

(The author travelled to Dharamsala earlier this year.)

“There will be a big vacuum once the Dalai Lama leaves us”, says Sonam Dorjee, a member of the Tibetan Congress in India. Listening to him talk passionately about his love for Tibet, I begin to think that he subscribes to the philosophy of some young Tibetans who feel that violence is the only way to achieve Tibetan independence from China.

“There will be a big vacuum once the Dalai Lama leaves us”, says Sonam Dorjee, a member of the Tibetan Congress in India. “It is the Dalai Lama and non-violence for me, till I die”

“It is the Dalai Lama and non-violence for me, till I die”, he says and bites into another piece of momo, the favourite Tibetan dumpling. Like some other young Tibetans I spoke to, Sonam too wonders if one of the most popular tourist destinations in India will survive the problem of economic disparity and drugs when the Dalai Lama is no more.

I am at McLeodganj in Dharamsala. The rain clouds have designed themselves atop the Dhauladhar Mountains, across the Kangra Valley. The tourists, perched on the narrow trekking paths in the mountains can watch a million drops relieve the ground from the May heat. The rains mark the beginning of the biggest tourist season and foreigners will scan the place for food, clothes and spirituality. The winds are cold and the temples, internet cafes, momo shops, restaurants are huddled together and packed with foreigners and some Indian tourists. But at night, many lodges and hotels announce themselves as closed and the buzzing streets are left almost-empty.

Every night at 10:30-11, police constables walk the streets to ensure the absence of any surreptitious activity or any illegal consumption of drugs. The place shuts by around midnight and there is very little night-life in this popular destination.

…

I meet him one night at the Main Square (central point) of McLeodganj. “Have you eaten yet…there is a party tonight at…Lot of disco… no police problem”. I tell him that I will consider and then leave. He is a Tibetan and can converse in English and Hindi, like many other Tibetans.

At around 11 p.m, I pass by the Main Square again and watch him walk swiftly to a local Himachal boy and take a packet from him; he stuffs the packet inside his trousers. The local boy walks away quickly. The Tibetan then approaches me and asks, “You did not come Sir? Entry fee Rs. 300, for Indian only Rs. 200”. As I walk on he whispers, “You can buy more fun if you want. Open till 3 a.m”.

The Indian home of the Dalai Lama, the spiritual leader of Tibetans, faces a perpetual problem of drug consumption. In 1959, the 14^TH Dalai Lama Tenzin Gyatso was given refuge at Dharamsala by Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and since then this place has garnered International attention. Foreigners come here and see the monastery, the temples, mountains and if they are lucky, the they get to see the Dalai Lama.

“They also come here for new experiences. Easy stay and easy drugs”, says Manoj Kumar, age 34, a shopkeeper of bags and shawls. Manoj was at the party the night before where a local tried to “get fresh” with a foreign girl and was promptly stopped by the other locals. He paid a 100 Rs entry fee and was given free beer by his friends inside.

Manoj is a native of Punjab and has been here for the last twelve years. He now plans to leave Dharamsala and start a new business in Punjab. He agrees to talk to me because he likes my name and because we can talk over a beer.

Manoj is a native of Punjab and has been here for the last twelve years. He now plans to leave Dharamsala and start a new business in Punjab. He believes in the Dalai Lama as much as he believes in the Hindu Gods and Goddesses. Then why is he leaving? His business is suffering. There has hardly been any sale today. There are so many shops for the same product and he is finding it tough to vie with the richer shops. He agrees to talk to me because he likes my name and because we can talk over a beer.

Part One to be continued.

Photographs

The rain clouds have designed themselves atop the Dhauladhar Mountains, across the Kangra Valley.

Russian Tourists at the Main Square (central point) of McLeodganj (Concerned about rising vegetable prices). Every night at 10:30-11, police constables walk the streets to ensure the absence of any surreptitious activity or any illegal consumption of drugs.

The rains mark the beginning of the biggest tourist season and foreigners will scan the place for food, clothes and spirituality.

The winds are cold and the temples, internet cafes, momo shops, restaurants are huddled together…

Part One to be continued.

Share This Story

More »

Nimesh Advani

[The writer describes his friend's suffering at his job; his talents are ridiculed and his youth is held against him]

 My friend Sid at his job

Mr. Gupta threw the file, smirked and promptly indulged in digging his nose. Then he started rambling about how competitive the world is and how people are treated in the film industry and how experienced he is and how Sid needs to follow him. Sid didn’t say much after this outburst. This had become a routine. Come to office and get fired.

It’s not that Sid is not efficient. Mr. Gupta has the habit to vent out his frustration regularly; sometimes every twenty minutes. What made Gupta behave irresponsibly? Sid often wondered if his wife beat him at home. But having a woman must be an achievement for Gupta. Misogynist.

Sid had thought that his dreams of becoming a movie director would be realized soon when he started working in a popular production house. However, when Gupta replaced his first boss, Sid found himself busy with tasks like buying samosas in the evening and contacting air-conditioner repairing service centres.

According to Gupta, people have to face flak and “take shit” in the early part of their career and he wanted Sid to join the bandwagon …

My Take

I hate such intentions and ideas (Gupta’s) … I asked Sid to leave the place but the pressure of economic recession and a nagging father were enough to over-power my advice.

I wonder why people behave like Gupta. Is he rude to others just because he has been dealt with in a similar manner?

Let me analyze a bit. Just because Gupta was treated cruelly, it means he will treat everyone who is junior to him, very cruelly.

We do not like it if someone is living comfortably because when we were in their position, we were treated badly…This sounds absurd to me. Why can’t we encourage a newcomer …?

If people were not encouraged during their youth, then should they discourage newcomers or simply avoid the mistake? It is against the ego to let somebody younger do better than them.

The mindset: “We were not given an opportunity at that point of time so why should these guys start early…why don’t they suffer like us?”

We have heard so much about healthy competition but the competition is anything but healthy. The moment somebody gets ahead of us, instead of us trying to overtake them with our own capabilities we try to pull them back.

Instead of thinking how we can get better we start thinking how the other person can get worse.

Can a newcomer start his career with the hope of being treated with dignity? Will this vicious 360 circle of life ever come to an end for him?

Share This Story

More »