Drying Out - Kutch

DRYING OUT – THE SEVEN WONDERS OF KUTCH

Ajit Chaudhuri

“You will come to Kutch crying, and you will leave Kutch crying!”[1]

Written in July 2007

Background: I have been to Kutch many, many times – I have long lost count – a few times by choice, but mostly because of work. I have been in many guises – as a broke student, as a trainer to local women’s groups, as a representative of a development donor agency, as a tourist with my family, and as an aid worker in the aftermath of drought and an earthquake. Familiarity has yet to breed contempt. Why? Certainly because it is large, remote and colourful! The people are nice, the food is great, and the women combine good looks with backless blouses. There are many exciting places to see and experience, many of which I am yet to do. And also because of something intangible – the n + 1th visit offers the possibility of learning something new, every single time.

Kutch is a real corner! It is among India’s largest districts, and is also its western-most. It is separated from the rest of India (and from Pakistan) by a curious land form called the rann, salty marshlands that appear to have been formed from the Arabian Sea receding, home to abundant wildlife (and the natural habitat of the Wild Ass) and birds (such as the Great Indian Bustard[2]) but inimical to human survival because of heat and salinity. The Kutchis are a colourful people; they speak a dialect that spans Gujarati, Marwari and Sindhi, they are equally divided between Hindus and Muslims, and they are great seafarers and businessmen. Kutch is also a disaster-prone area, suffering droughts and cyclones at regular intervals and major earthquakes about once every fifty years.

Kutch is reachable by various means. The most boring is the daily flight from Mumbai that takes one directly to the district headquarters, Bhuj. Boring because flights are intrinsically boring, and boring also because the route is operated only by Jet Airways[3] and you get a glimpse of the airline in a non-competitive environment – unreasonably high fares, vegetarian food only, and no support from the airline when they cancel the flight. There are also trains, but these are convenient only if you are coming from Mumbai. The easiest is by road, with two routes in – one from the east from Palanpur via Radhanpur, Santhalpur westward into Kutch, and the other from the south-east from Ahmedabad via Morbi. A third and much shorter route from Ahmedabad was added through Dhrangadhra in the mid-1990s, ultimately joining the Morbi route and cutting the distance between Ahmedabad and Bhuj to about 350 km.


Kutch too has its wonders – and in this age of the seventh month of the seventh year I identify seven of them that I have experienced and would strongly recommend. I write them in the order of chronology of my own visit to each of them.

Narayan Sarovar: This is possibly the western-most place in India – it is a lake just next to Sir Creek (across which lies Karachi), and a small town called Koteshwar. I visited in October 1988 along with my batchmates Som and Balu, all of us broke students at the time in search of a place as far away as possible from anywhere else. We took a Gujarat Roadways bus from Bhuj that went through Nakhatrana and Matanamad and ended up in the evening in this tiny town where the only place to stay was some religious complex. One room for the three of us – Rs. 1.50 with dinner included, and no, I haven’t mistakenly put the dot – but we had to sing ‘Ram Ram’ while being served dinner and put up with suspicious looks from the complex authorities because Som and Balu were both bearded. This was unfortunate, because we decided to head back to Bhuj the next morning rather than put up with another day of that sort of crap. Before that, we did manage to look around at the sea and the saltpans on all sides, make friends with some fellow Bongs at the Border Security Force outpost, and watch the sun go down for the day on India in one of the most beautiful sunsets I have experienced. I wish that we had been able to spend another day or two there, Ram Ram and all (at that price I would be willing to sing anything including gangsta rap), but I suspect that my friends were quite happy to head back to the bright lights of Bhuj town.

Bhuj: KMVS Annual Day Function: I have once had the opportunity, somewhere in the mid-1990s, to attend a Women’s Day function at the Kutch Mahila Vikas Sangathan (KMVS - this is a district level federation of women’s groups) office in Bhuj. No, I was not an invitee – I just happened to be visiting at the time and they were probably too polite to tell me to shove off because of my gender. So there I was, with about a thousand women from all over Kutch around me, in all sizes, ages and colours. It is, no doubt, political incorrect to size up women at occasions to commemorate Women’s Day, but I have never regretted doing so at this one. The speeches wound down and the dancing began, including one called the Ahir dance that remains etched in memory – black clad Ahir women moving in circles to the beat of one drum. It had a rhythm and synchronicity that is difficult to describe. All good things come to an end, however, and this one wound down because the NGO type khadi-clad babes, without exception with two left feet, insisted on joining in and screwing it up in the name of sisterhood.

Bhuj: Annapurna: Under normal circumstances, I go through withdrawal symptoms if I am forced to eat vegetarian food for more than 3 meals consecutively. That I have no such difficulties in Bhuj is thanks to a small restaurant that is walking distance from my regular hotel. Annapurna serves Kutchi food, not the sugar-in-the-dal stuff that is available across Gujarat, it is spicy, oily, curdy and is eaten with coarse Bajra rotis that are soaked and crumpled in home-made white butter (with fresh ones served hot just as you finish the previous one), washed down with chaanch and rounded off with a sweet shrikhand. You come out stuffed to the gills in about Rs. 50. Annapurna is the main reason for all my hard work under the Kutchi sun not resulting in a corresponding reduction in the waistline (and my wife suspecting that the time away from home was probably actually in Mumbai living it up with Ash and Sush). Honourable mention in this regard must be made of the Egg-wallah next to Bhuj bus stand, who makes a mean double-desi-omelette cooked in butter in the morning and follows it up with strong tea.

Vyar: This is a village in Nakhatrana tehsil that is mainly populated by the Rabari community. Rabaris, for those who don’t know it, are a cattle herding and rearing community who are distinctive in dress and whose women are particularly beautiful (the men, for those interested, are very good looking too). Vyar itself is nestled in a slightly undulating part of Kutch that turns green and stunning in the aftermath of the rains. Care Today, who I work for, had supported the building of a series of check dams in the village and I had gone there several times to check the project out. The celebration that we had on completion of the project back in 2000 was a wonderful experience – beautiful women decked out in coloured ghagras and backless cholis in the backdrop of green undulating land, and a great meal as well. Bhachibai, who led the community’s effort to build the check dams, went on to become the village sarpanch and it was a pleasure to meet her again last month and to see the change in her stature that the project initiated.

Hodka: Hodka falls about 70 km north of Bhuj, on an island in the rann and right on its banks. KMVS decided in 2005 to try out an indigenous tourism model here – this involved them designing and setting up a tourist resort, and enabling the village community to own, run, work in, and make profits from it. I was persuaded to spend a night here as a paying customer cum guinea pig in February 2006 (my antics over the years in KMVS catching up with me). I arrived at night and left early the next morning, but saw enough to come again ten months later, of my own accord, and spend a few days with my wife, children and dog. The resort itself is wonderful – remote, beautiful, spacious, luxurious, affordable (well, reasonably so), clean and hassle-free but, no booze. The service was worth a mention – the village boys did things in a way that was correct without being obsequious. The kids could be left to do their own thing, there was some entertainment every evening (local folk groups and whatnot – all male), and food was both good and plentiful. We also visited India Bridge, the last civilian point in India on a dry water body that has so much salt that it looks like it has snowed – this and the nearby quicksand made an impression on my two boys, with a recall of the latter and a small mention of the possibility of leaving them within ensuring immediate better behaviour.

Chhaari Dhaand: This is a huge water body north of Bhuj, and it is to my deep regret that I discovered it only in December 2006 – in the aftermath of a good monsoon, with large colonies of birds to see, including the famous pink flamingos out in all their majesty. This is in the middle of nowhere, there are no roads or anything and therefore a vehicle that can perform off the road and a guide who knows the way are necessities. The family spent a day to remember in my old Qualis, making our way slowly around the water body checking out the birds. But, if you visit, do remember to carry food and water – you will not see any settlements or people for long stretches and there are no shops of any sort anywhere in the vicinity. And the flamingos? To quote the kids – Awesome!

Dholavira: The words ‘remote’ and ‘middle of nowhere’ are often used to describe Kutch and many places within it. I feel that I have finally discovered where it applies most of all. Dholavira is a famous place – an ancient Indian settlement was discovered here in the late seventies and is still being excavated – but very few people know where it is, or that it falls in Kutch. I did know, and it has always been on my list of places to take time out to see, except that I never did until just recently (July 2007). The opportunity arose because of a cancelled Jet Airways flight from Bhuj to Mumbai and the airline’s official (a bimbo of the highest order) refusing to make arrangements for accommodation and acting as if she was doing me a favour by putting me on the next day’s flight – I decided to make my way to Ahmedabad by road and subsequently, upon the advice of my local colleagues, to do so via Dholavira (adding exactly 220 km to the journey). So, eastwards from Bhuj towards Rapar, north across a long stretch of rann and then west across more rann until I reached a little island and the site of what was a flourishing port city 4 millenniums ago when this was all sea. The site is fascinating – much larger than the other well known one in Gujarat (which is Lothal), and still being excavated so there are plenty of terracotta ornaments and whatnot lying around all over the place. The Archaeology Survey of India, who handle the excavation, have a decent museum at the site and are helpful and informative. Most refreshing was the attitude of the locals in the nearby village – happy to have visitors for the new faces and the possibility of newspapers and conversation. One old man said that they are so cut off that a haircut costs Rs. 150 – travel 90 kilometers to the nearest barber (who is in Rapar), have a haircut, eat some food, and return.

Kutch is going to change. Large tracts of land have been acquired for Special Economic Zones, making full use of the peoples’ low education levels and the considerable availability of commons. The towns, all flattened by the 2001 earthquake, are now fancy and laden with infrastructure that sits uneasily on old attitudes and norms. All roads will shortly have tollbooths every twenty or so kilometres. The traditional economy is quickly transforming, skilled people are moving in from all over India, and the scope for cattle rearing and pastoral nomadic lifestyles is rapidly diminishing. If you have yet to visit – you need to do so soon. Because, as the old song goes, ‘I will never be the same!’
[1] This is a Kutchi saying that refers to its position as a punishment posting for government servants within Gujarat, and the fact that people are transferred out with the same reluctance that they come in with.
[2] An old limerick goes – the Bustard is an incredible fowl, extremely satisfying to the bowel, saved from what would be, illegitimacy, by the grace of just one vowel.
[3] Indian Airlines (now Indian) used to operate, but closed down once Jet Airways settled on the route.