When fear of landslips overtakes Karsog’s charms

Long before I knew Karsog would someday become my home, it held a familiar comfort and warmth of nature’s embrace.

Whenever I take a bus from Shimla, my motion sickness kicks in on the single-lane roads. But even as the turns take you for a ride, views remain a delight for the eyes.

The lush green hills of Mashobra and Naldehra are a picturesque relief from the concrete jungle of Shimla. As you move on, you are treated by the waters of Tattapani before you slowly make your way to Churag and finally reach Karsog.

According to folklore, the word Karsog was originally formed as a combination of two words ‘kar’ and ‘shok’ (which translates to ‘daily mourning’). A myth based on Mahabharata claims that the village was home to a demon who would eat a villager every day, until Bhim saved Karsog by offering himself to the demon.

Most people know Karsog as the base to Shikari Devi, Kamrunaag and Mahunag. The valley is also home to the historical Mamleshwar Mahadev and Kamaksha Temple. But what makes this town my favourite is its raw energy. It has managed to escape the tourism exploits, making it ideal to build a peaceful home instead of a one-time destination.

However, journey to Karsog felt different this time. It was both scary and tragic. Almost every alternative turn greets you with a waterfall or a landslip. Before you enter the market, you see the nullah that recently caused a havoc after the cloudburst. No amount of news coverage prepares you for disaster back home.

As we heard news about the cloudburst, I remember my cousin's ​anxious tone who was in Bengaluru. We were lucky to have called before phones back home ran out of battery. Knowing everyone was safe brought a relief. But, we did not realise that we were not done for the monsoon.

Two months later, rains are yet to stop. For once, road blocks seem a minor inconvenience when you read about tragedies across the region. Monsoon always made me think of “chai-samosa”. This time, it triggers fear as scenes in the hills showed that nature’s fury is real. Now, we anxiously wait for our loved ones to safely reach home, quietly pray for weather to be gentle, hills to be kinder.

Vaishnavi, Chandigarh