RAGE OF THE RIVER
The untold story of the Kedarnath disaster
Hridayesh Joshi
Penguin
209 pages; Rs 399
First up, the author deserves praise for choosing to label the tragedy the "Kedarnath Disaster". This is important because the cloudburst on the day of the disaster was heavily localised in one part of Uttarakhand. True, its spillover affected other parts of the Himalayan state, but the majority of the damage was in the Mandakini Valley, which originates in the lofty heights behind the holy Kedarnath Shrine in Uttarakhand. It was primarily television news reporters who were guilty of sensationalising the disaster as one that affected the entire state, causing incalculable economic damage on unaffected parts of the state that depend on the seasonal influx of tourists to sustain the local economy.
The book is a light and breezy read. Within the first few pages it feels like an immersive travelogue, except that there are no happy scenes in the Mandakini valley. The author does a good job of reconstructing the exact chronology of events, which have been lost in the haze of the disaster. His interviews, especially of the brave private helicopter pilots who flew the first rescue missions to the Kedarnath shrine, paints a vivid picture of the disaster zone.
There were some very important questions raised during this disaster, like every other one, on journalistic ethics, especially of reporters hitching rides on rescue helicopters at the cost of emergency supplies or survivor rescues being delayed. The author justifies his ride in a helicopter to the Kedarnath shrine in one of the early rescue sorties on grounds that he chose to bring images out of the disaster zone so that it would enable a larger rescue effort. The rescue effort did go on to become the largest such ever attempted anywhere in the world. Live TV certainly played a part in accelerating rescue efforts.
The slow-motion recap of the flurry of events is a worthy read but the author's efforts fall short in peeling away layers of the story - especially the factual ones. An issue that festers three years after the disaster is the exact human toll. There is massive variance between official quoted figures and how many people are claimed to have perished. It was easy to count pilgrims and local people who died, but there is still no clarity on the number of migrant workers who perished. Migrant workers came to work in Kedarnath all the way from Nepal to the Gangetic plains. Their families have more or less given up running from pillar to post to get basics such as death certificates. The issue of missing Nepali workers is, in fact, still a bone of contention between the Nepalese and Indian governments. A journalist returning to the scene of a disaster is expected to shed further light on this contentious issue.
The next big gap in the book is not documenting the relief effort after the initial rescue efforts. Investigating further would have yielded clues to solve a huge puzzle - what happened to all the money disbursed for long-term relief and rehabilitation? Record sums of money were earmarked for long-term relief and rehabilitation, mostly provided by the central government. But the state is still limping back from the disaster rather than galloping forward. The rumour mills in the corridors of power in this Himalayan state are always spinning with stories of what actually happened with the funds. It is worth wondering which journalist scoops this story, which could be of Himalayan proportions.
Development choices are largely blamed for the huge impact of the disaster. Flash floods in the Himalayas are not unknown but as the author rightly points out, human development managed to park itself right in between the flood waters. There are, again, innumerable statistics, reports and authoritative voices quoted that warn against tampering with the fragile geology and ecology of the region. But sadly, there is no attempt to fix accountability on the politicians whose decisions led to this tragedy or discover whether lessons have been learned.
The untold story of the Kedarnath disaster
Hridayesh Joshi
Penguin
209 pages; Rs 399
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In the breathless reporting of breaking news events one often wonders whether Indian television journalists pause to peel away the many layers of a story. Therefore, it is a very pleasant surprise indeed to read a book written by a television journalist who found himself in the midst of a much-televised disaster - the flash floods of 2013 in parts of Uttarakhand. Further, the author was at the time a journalist for a local language television news channel, the kind that are often accused of not getting their facts right. He chose to publish the book in Hindi first, and it has been translated into English.
First up, the author deserves praise for choosing to label the tragedy the "Kedarnath Disaster". This is important because the cloudburst on the day of the disaster was heavily localised in one part of Uttarakhand. True, its spillover affected other parts of the Himalayan state, but the majority of the damage was in the Mandakini Valley, which originates in the lofty heights behind the holy Kedarnath Shrine in Uttarakhand. It was primarily television news reporters who were guilty of sensationalising the disaster as one that affected the entire state, causing incalculable economic damage on unaffected parts of the state that depend on the seasonal influx of tourists to sustain the local economy.
The book is a light and breezy read. Within the first few pages it feels like an immersive travelogue, except that there are no happy scenes in the Mandakini valley. The author does a good job of reconstructing the exact chronology of events, which have been lost in the haze of the disaster. His interviews, especially of the brave private helicopter pilots who flew the first rescue missions to the Kedarnath shrine, paints a vivid picture of the disaster zone.
There were some very important questions raised during this disaster, like every other one, on journalistic ethics, especially of reporters hitching rides on rescue helicopters at the cost of emergency supplies or survivor rescues being delayed. The author justifies his ride in a helicopter to the Kedarnath shrine in one of the early rescue sorties on grounds that he chose to bring images out of the disaster zone so that it would enable a larger rescue effort. The rescue effort did go on to become the largest such ever attempted anywhere in the world. Live TV certainly played a part in accelerating rescue efforts.
The slow-motion recap of the flurry of events is a worthy read but the author's efforts fall short in peeling away layers of the story - especially the factual ones. An issue that festers three years after the disaster is the exact human toll. There is massive variance between official quoted figures and how many people are claimed to have perished. It was easy to count pilgrims and local people who died, but there is still no clarity on the number of migrant workers who perished. Migrant workers came to work in Kedarnath all the way from Nepal to the Gangetic plains. Their families have more or less given up running from pillar to post to get basics such as death certificates. The issue of missing Nepali workers is, in fact, still a bone of contention between the Nepalese and Indian governments. A journalist returning to the scene of a disaster is expected to shed further light on this contentious issue.
The next big gap in the book is not documenting the relief effort after the initial rescue efforts. Investigating further would have yielded clues to solve a huge puzzle - what happened to all the money disbursed for long-term relief and rehabilitation? Record sums of money were earmarked for long-term relief and rehabilitation, mostly provided by the central government. But the state is still limping back from the disaster rather than galloping forward. The rumour mills in the corridors of power in this Himalayan state are always spinning with stories of what actually happened with the funds. It is worth wondering which journalist scoops this story, which could be of Himalayan proportions.
Development choices are largely blamed for the huge impact of the disaster. Flash floods in the Himalayas are not unknown but as the author rightly points out, human development managed to park itself right in between the flood waters. There are, again, innumerable statistics, reports and authoritative voices quoted that warn against tampering with the fragile geology and ecology of the region. But sadly, there is no attempt to fix accountability on the politicians whose decisions led to this tragedy or discover whether lessons have been learned.