For the 18 years she has been alive, Mahima Rana’s world has revolved around the mountains and the forests she has called home. Where she lives, there are the odd shops, but no cafes, not even a street-food joint. Her daily education has been learning the ropes of a life that is exposed to the elements: preparing for the harsh winter; accessing firewood from the neighbouring forest; foraging sustainably for food and fodder; and spending months in the summer camping
For the 18 years she has been alive, Mahima Rana’s world has revolved around the mountains and the forests she has called home. Where she lives, there are the odd shops, but no cafes, not even a street-food joint. Her daily education has been learning the ropes of a life that is exposed to the elements: preparing for the harsh winter; accessing firewood from the neighbouring forest; foraging sustainably for food and fodder; and spending months in the summer camping with her family in the forest, an annual ritual for the Bhotia people.
But on April 19, Rana did something in common with 1.82 million young people across India — she voted for the first time. “My teachers in school encouraged me to apply for my voter card. My mother said that because we belong to an area with a very small population, our job is to ensure everyone votes. This is a border area so national security is critical. The enemy are right across,” said Rana.
“I feel very proud that I managed to vote. It gives me right to choose our leaders,” she added.
Rana’s village – in Uttarakhand’s Chamoli – is not like others that lie close to the international border with China. Raini has a central place in India’s environmental conservation story. On March 26, 1974, when staff of the forest department, and labourers and agents of sports goods company Symonds descended on the village, intent on felling trees in the forest that the villagers hold so dear, a group of women led by Gaura Devi, the mahila adhyaksh (head of the women’s committee) hugged trees in protest, refusing to budge, in what later came to be known as the “Chipko movement”.
The women warned the men who had arrived that they would have to fell the trees over their dead bodies.
“The women in our village have always been strong. My mother and elderly grandmothers lug gas cylinders on their back to bring them up here to our village. I want to be like them. But there are problems that we have. All the young people have to leave to work outside. Sometimes it is strange to live only with the elderly. But I think of them as my friends the listen to their stories,” Rana said
Fifty years after the Chipko movement, Raini is confronted with another environmental crisis — glacial melt and the extreme weather. “It is very scary for us. On February 7, 2021, for instance, I was washing clothes in the morning when I saw workers running and screaming. Within moments, a huge cloud of dust and water was coming at us from the mountains. Thankfully, it did not touch our homes and swept away the Rishiganga hydro project instead. But people do not sleep well at night here. They wake up at the slightest disturbance, wondering if the glacier will start tumbling at us again. If it has happened once, why can’t it happen again?” she said.
The glacier breach, and the resultant avalanche in February 21, destroyed two hydro-power plants—Rishiganga and Tapovan Vishnugadh—and left around 200 people dead.
Rana said that the village elders narrate stories of how the snowfall has decreased significantly over the years, and her generation do not get to see the kind of winter her parents did. “I want to know why this is happening but there are no means to understand. We only hope that our forests and agriculture are not affected,” Rana said.
A 2023 report by the Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development found that glaciers in the Hindukush Himalayas could lose up to 80% of their current volume by the end of the century at current trajectories.
But despite these issues defining her everyday, environmental concerns are not at the centre of Rana’s fledgling electoral choices — simply because she does not believe that any party will live up to their promises. “They promise a lot of things but do nothing. After the 2021 disaster, we lost water taps, our washing area, even our village guest house. All our homes have cracks and it is dangerous to live here. Heavy infrastructure projects are not suited for our region and we can see how the blasting in the hills destabilises the slopes. But no party ever pays heed, and I am very disappointed on that front,” she said.
In the absence of these factors, Rana’s vote is based on other factors; social welfare programmes being chief among them. “I will not reveal who I voted for but I do like certain things about the BJP like their free ration delivery during Covid that helped us survive, and the programme to get water to every home. The swacchta (cleanliness) campaign is also great in my book,” Rana said.
There are other challenges that come with living in Raini. There is no primary health centre in the village, the closest town that has either a medical centre or doctors 45km away in Joshimath. “Modi ji has also started a scheme for subsidised LPG. I find that very useful and will vote for a party that works for women and their education. If we have some skills, we can start something of our own. That is not happening today,” she said.
Rana is still in school, one of three Class 12 science students at the Tapovan Intercollegiate School, which she joined after completing class 10 at the Rajakiya Uccha Madhyamik Vidyalaya (the state government middle school) in Raini, a short hike from her home. There were all of three students in her class at the time. Two chose not to continue their education after Class 10. “I want to be a nurse or a doctor and serve my village. I like biology because it tells us what we can do with our plants, fruits and herbs. I want to see if these can be used for medicinal purposes,” she said.
From early in the year, Rana has been looking forward to several festivals that take place through the year. The first is Phooldei — where villagers collect flowers and shower every home with them to welcome the spring. Then there is Harela, where the village plants different species of trees to welcome the rains. “Though the young do not have much to do here, there are 12 festivals in the 12 months of the year, so there is always something to look forward to,” Rana said. This year, Rana added another festival to her list; a festival that comes around once in five years.
On April 19, Rana voted for the first time.
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