DEHRADUN: Mana, a 2,000-strong village in the upper reaches of Garhwal Himalayas, had already emptied out when disaster struck. By the time an avalanche crashed down the Mana-Ghastoli route on Friday morning, smothering everything in its path, the roads were deserted, the homes abandoned. As a result, not many heard the sound of ice fracturing, snow cascading, and the earth shuddering under its weight. They are now counting their blessings.
The villagers’ migration, a ritual dictated by centuries of wisdom, is more than tradition – it is survival. The Himalayas demand deference, and the people of Mana have long known when to step aside. “We are fortunate we had shifted to lower locations; otherwise, many people could have been trapped,” said Pitambhar Molpha, the village headman.
Each Nov, as the doors of the Badrinath temple close, the residents of Mana undertake their annual migration, leaving behind their homes and livelihoods to escape the harsh winter. They move to Gopeshwar, Jyotirmath, and Jhinkwan in Chamoli district. They return only when the Badrinath yatra is about to begin.
The avalanche – just 500 metres from the village – was neither the first nor the last. “Avalanches have been reported here in Feb and March before,” Molpha said. “At this time of year, workers are engaged in removing snow from the main routes. There is also an army camp near our village.”
For those who leave, there is always the lingering question of what remains. Sandeep Aswal, who runs a tea stall – once known as the ‘last tea stall of the country’ and now rebranded as the ‘first tea stall’ – has watched tourists come and go, drawn by Mana’s mystique. “It is an unfortunate incident. Since the village is empty, we don’t have any updates on whether the avalanche impacted the area. But we feel blessed that all 400 families had already moved,” he said.
