Experience the beauty of hills, don’t kill them

The hills have always been my refuge. They offered me solace, love, and an embrace so gentle yet powerful that it shaped me through my formative years. In the 1980s, during our stay at Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie, the town was not just a place to live, it had an atmosphere of wonder.

While the family gathered around the television to watch ‘Ramayana’ or ‘Mahabharata’, I wandered outdoors, finding my epics in the wilderness. The moss patterns on the trees fascinated me endlessly. And then there were the occasional outings with visitors to the Kempty Falls. I can still recall the excitement of that walk downhill, turning at the bend where the silvery cascade revealed itself all at once. There were only one or two shops then, shopkeepers chilling their crates of cold drinks in the cold waters. The falls belonged to nature, and we belonged to it. Two decades later, when I returned, my heart sank. That same bend no longer opened to a free view. Shops had sprung up all along the slope, and the water itself seemed drowned in the din of commerce. What was once a sanctuary had been reduced to a crowded bazaar. It felt like losing an old friend to suffocation.

Over the years, as I have travelled through the Himalayas, I have seen the story repeat itself. Slopes scarred by construction, rivers choked with plastic, forests giving way to hotels and roads. Even in Shimla, where my annual visits to the Indian Institute of Advanced Study (IIAS) still bring joy, weekends and holidays leave the Mall Road gasping under the crush of people. Only in the early mornings does the town breathe with ease.

The tragedy is not confined to one hill station. Everywhere, the mountains seem tired, carrying the weight of our desire for comfort and convenience. Landslides, floods, and the retreat of glaciers remind us that these are not eternal backdrops, but fragile beings, easily wounded. And yet, who can deny that everyone deserves to experience their beauty? The cool air, the peace, the sense of being embraced by nature — it should not be the privilege of a few.

But perhaps the way we seek it needs to change. Must every slope be lined with stalls? Must every bend be crowded with hotels? Or is it time we asked whether our hills can truly bear this constant pressure? There may be no easy answers. The hills sustain livelihoods as they do life even as they suffer from them. To banish tourism would be unjust, but to let it run unchecked is equally cruel. Perhaps the change must begin in our own hearts — in choosing to tread lightly, in remembering that the mountains are not amusement parks but living, breathing spaces. Plato once said that good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws. The future of our hills rests on which side we choose to be. Do we care because the law compels us, or because our love for the mountains demands it?

The hills have my heart. I only hope we find it in ours to save them.

Dr Priyanka Singh, IIAS, Shimla