As
the sun moved westward ushering in a cool evening, we
undertook a trip to Patratu from Ranchi on a Saturday.
Our expedition on the 15-kilometre stretch of Pithouria-Patratu
Valley reminded me of one similar trip on the Gangtok-Nathula
stretch in 2002, when I had travelled among towering mountains.
Flanked
by hills covered with lush green trees, red and violet
flowers and honey bees humming, the Pithouria-Patratu
Valley is no less attractive than the valleys on the Gangtok-Nathula,
Dehradun-Mussouri and Raxaul-Kathmandu roads in terms
of natural elegance. Of course, the hills along the Pithouria-Patratu
stretch are devoid of snow, unlike the ones on Gangtok-Nathula.
But green saal, sakhuwa and bamboos with flowers, in a
riot of colours, more than make up for the absence of
snow. The jingle-jangle of waterfalls and rivulets rushing
through the stones, soothed the ears, and eyes, even more
than any maestro's music.
We
were on our way to watch the vast expanse of water that
the Patratu Dam had accumulated this raining season. But
Mother Nature spreading her allure all around forced us
to break our journey at many places. To my surprise, however,
we were the only travellers to witness this generous display.
The valley had the presence of humans all right - there
were several groups carrying coal on their cycles and
struggling to reach Ranchi to sell the goods. They had
probably loaded their bicycles at Patratu Mines and were
peddling their way through the intricate turns and bends
of the valley. But no tourists.
Unlike
on the charming Pokhra-Kathmandu, Gangtok-Nathula and
Dehradun-Mussouri roads, the travellers fear to tread
through the Pithouria-Patratu stretch. Even angels fear
to tread here after five. "It's a very unsafe stretch.
No one dares to bring their family," said our driver,
a local resident, before adding: "Maoists have their
den at many places here." In fact, the driver confirmed
what the police openly admits and the people at large
believe.
Needless
to add, there were no eateries or "paan" or
cigarette shops on the entire stretch. Why should there
be, when there is no chance of travellers ever passing
through the valley. It was around 5 pm when we reached
Patratu Dam.
Again, we were the only tourists near the dam, which looked
awe-inspiring in the rains, but devoid of any tourist
boats or rest houses and refreshment stalls. There was
a group of local lads, who were giving their buffaloes
a wash. They watched us with surprise.
"It's
safer to leave the place before sunset for you have your
family with you," a shop owner, serving us samosa
and jilebi, at the small Patratu Bazaar told us anxiously.
As we left the dam to return we saw two passenger buses
that were escorted by heavily armed security men. Later
we learnt that two buses, accompanied with well-armed
security personnel, ply every day between Patratu and
Ranchi to transport passengers.
As
we finally reached Kanke Road, we found the Ranchi rock
garden bustling with city men, women, boys and girls attired
in smart dresses enjoying the weekend evening. One could
see the Kanke Dam overflowing with water. There was a
beautiful balmy breeze all around. Small boys and girls
were discussing merrily about "ghost houses"
and "ghosts" thanks to the impact of light and
music there. But the scene and artificiality at the rock
garden was in no way a match to the charm and elegance
that nature has gifted to the Pithouria-Patratu Valley.
I wish and wonder if the state will ever see days when
visitors will walk and drive safely around the Patratu-Pithouria
stretch while enjoying nature's beauty and abundance -
the same way one travels on the Gangtok-Nathula and other
roads.
Had I been a Moist leader I would have allowed at least
the travellers to take the route, to widen my support
and acceptability among the urban middle-class. Alas!
I don't have a Maoist leader like me around.
