The Himalayan Women Rewriting the Climate Story
If she was a boy, she would’ve joined him too - guiding the sheep, sleeping outdoors, living a semi-nomadic life.
Pushpa and I stand on the side of a winding mountain road in Uttarakhand, holding our thumbs out under the blazing late-morning sun. A pair of binoculars dangle from her shoulder. Under her salwar kameez, she wears a rugged pair of walking shoes. Over her dupatta is slung a worn-out backpack.
There is hardly any traffic on the road, but soon enough, an army jeep slows down to examine us and lets us in. Some banter and kilometers later, we alight at the starting point of our hike.
Old teak forests line the way. Scarlet rhododendrons liven up the landscape. The air carries the refreshing aroma of moist soil. As we join an old shepherd trail on a narrow ridge, we both let out a sigh, prompted by the awe of the scene that unfolds before us. The five snow-clad Panchachuli peaks tower over the mountains, their laps far below filled with tiny specks of mountain villages.
It’s my first time on this trail, but Pushpa has been a regular ever since she trained as a trek leader and started guiding travellers on these spectacular hikes. Walking is in her soul, she tells me. She is after all, the daughter of a bakriwal. Her father has wandered these Alpine trails with his flock of sheep ever since he was young. If she was a boy, she would’ve joined him too - guiding the sheep, sleeping outdoors, living a semi-nomadic life.
When we stop to rest our tired feet, she hands me the binoculars and a book about birds found in this vicinity, and starts to gather twigs to light a fire. She whips out a steel kettle from her backpack as I hopelessly try to identify a red-breasted bird on a bush. With foraged herbs, she makes a soul-warming tea.
As we slurp the tea together, I can’t help but think that her life path would’ve been that of every mountain woman in Uttarakhand - finish school if lucky, early marriage, raise kids, cook, clean, farm, engage in daily wage labor at construction sites if pressed for money, repeat. She had been auto-assigned the roles of daughter, wife and mother at birth. But in 2004, she became part of a women’s collective of homestay hosts with the community tourism organization Himalayan Ark. Her love for walking and willingness to push herself eventually led her to formally train as a trek leader, and become one of the region’s only female high-altitude guides - a rarity in rural India!
Access to a steady income, which until then was her husband’s domain, has allowed Pushpa to contribute to her son’s college education and revamp her homestay. Several studies have documented the broader impact of financial independence for rural women. When women have a dependable source of livelihoods, they invest in their children’s education (especially girls) and contribute to the wellbeing of the entire community. Indeed, all women-led homestays under the umbrella of Himalayan Ark contribute a voluntary fee for the conservation of their forest - a crucial local ecosystem and global carbon sink. They’ve advocated for the protection of their rivers and natural resources. And the fortitude of pioneers like Pushpa has even inspired young women from remote villages further out in the Gori Valley, to join Himalayan Ark’s alpine guide training camp, hoping to follow in her footsteps.
Over the months I would spend slow travelling in this part of my home state, I would learn that when the organization’s founder Malika Virdi (mountaineer and women’s rights advocate) was elected sarpanch of the Van Panchayat - a dwindling 70-year-old institution focused on the sustainable management of forests in Uttarakhand - it occurred to her that in the age of capitalism, nature conservation must be closely linked with income generation. Conservation-focused tourism training for their 20 homestays and 25 trained guides (of which over 50% are women) has over the years, built pride for the natural and cultural heritage of the region. Local gatherings and festivals have evolved to restore and celebrate their spring water sources, and inculcate a love for nature among the youth and elders alike. It’s no wonder that Pushpa has the glee of a little girl each time we spot a rare bird or butterfly!
In much of Uttarakhand, climate impacts on agriculture, drying water sources, changing weather patterns, the lack of jobs and the promise of city life, are compelling entire families, especially the youth, to abandon their villages. But distress migration is a rarity here, Malika tells me proudly. She believes that young people should seek fulfilling opportunities but shouldn’t have to leave their village out of desperation, driven by a lack of livelihood sources. When travellers choose to stay in these community-owned homestays, they send a social signal that rural life, with its intimacy with nature, low environmental footprint and food security, is an aspirational way of life. Together, the women of Munsiari - guides, homestay hosts, social activists, environmental advocates, farmers, wives, mothers, daughters - are rewriting the climate story.
Support Himalayan Ark’s work in community-led nature-based tourism:
Travel: Stay at women-owned homestays in stunning Munsiari, hike with a female guide, and get involved in their ongoing work. The months I’ve spent with them has redefined how I think about travel.
Volunteer: Offer your skills in farming, nature-based education and storytelling as a volunteer.
Website: www.himalayanark.com | Instagram: @voicesofmunsiari
Contact: himalayanark@gmail.com
Rootless and Restless: Book updates
Days before my book release, while facilitating a travel writing workshop, during a session on dealing with insecurity as a writer, I proudly quoted the poet Vonnegut: “The goal of art is to make your soul grow.” Proudly, because I thought in the months between writing and publishing my new book, I had let go the fear and insecurity of the aftermath.
In the past three weeks, after the high of my book launch events subsided, I realized I couldn’t be more wrong. Despite warnings from my publisher on how the reading landscape has changed (slowed down) since I published my first book, I developed an unhealthy obsession with my book’s Amazon page. A few days ago, I finally received my initial book sales numbers from Penguin, and must confess I felt devastated. In its first month, Rootless and Restless sold only about half of what The Shooting Star did.
I got so fixated on the numbers that I ignored everything else. The readers who showed up for my launches with battered and read-too-many-times copies of my first book. The messages I receive pretty much every single day - on how the stories in Rootless and Restless have touched, moved and inspired readers, impacted their life and travel choices, and challenged their idea of personal freedom. How readers who’ve finished the book have bought extra copies to gift to friends, offer at retreats, and sell in their alternative store. Why does the qualitative, which carries so much more meaning, always get overshadowed by the empty numbers?
I feel very vulnerable writing this, but I write it in the hope of reminding myself (and you, if you’re a writer or artist), that the goal of art is to make our soul grow!
Here are some beautiful things that happened since my last updates:
On World Environment Day, an excerpt from the Cuba chapter of Rootless and Restless was published in Outlook India.
The book is now available to browse or buy at some of my favorite alternative spots across India: Earth Cafe in Mumbai, ReCharkha in Pune, Sol Cafe in Spiti, Bhoomi Cafe in Bir, No Nasties in Goa, Earthings in Pune and the Tirthan Eagle Nest homestay in Tirthan Valley.
I was invited to give a virtual talk to IBM employees earlier this month, on my slow and solo travel adventures in Rootless and Restless. I was amazed to get so many thoughtful questions from the curious audience, especially on the purpose of life and the roadmap we’re handed from society. A great session!
The book got its first 20 reviews on Amazon (some of them moved me to tears).
I printed out some beautiful postcards (on upcycled paper) based on my adventures in the book, to send as a thank you to my earliest readers and reviewers. If you’d like to receive one, DM me on Instagram or send me an email.
On 24th June at 8:30 pm IST, I’ll be doing an Instagram Live with the book community Read a Kitaab as part of their author talks. Tune in if you can!
Conscious recommendations
Meaningful travel ideas, eco-friendly finds and worthwhile opportunities, as well as books and films that’ve inspired me.
Read:
Heart Lamp: I was eager to get my hands on this book ever since it was nominated for a Booker Prize (and then won it), and during my book tour in India last month, I finally did! Written by Banu Mushtaq, a writer and activist from Karnataka, this is a collection of short stories based on the lives of Muslim women in South India - translated from Kannada by Deepa Bhasthi. The storytelling is layered and nuanced, and the vulnerability and courage of the characters of many of the stories pulled at my heartstrings. A beautiful read.
The Eyes of Gaza: I meant to do some light reading this month, but when I saw this book at Champaca Bookstore in Bangalore, I knew I had to read it. In 2023, the author Plestia Alaqad was a 21-year-old Palestinian journalist fresh out of university, when she found herself in the midst of what became a genocide. She writes the book as a diary of her days reporting from the genocide, but also about surviving as a young girl who prioritizes her laptop over her emergency bag. The book made me cry and feel very angry at the world, but also let me smile at the little joys of what it means to be human, even when forced out of your bombed-out home into a tent. If you read only one book this year, please let it be this, as a way to witness one of the worst realities of our present.
Watch:
Masumiyet Müzesi: I had no idea Orhan Pamuk’s book, The Museum of Innocence, was going to be turned into a limited series on Netflix - and I’m so glad it was. It’s based on one man’s obsession with a distant cousin from a different economic background, and his desire to create a museum dedicated to his love. The beautiful cinematography transported me right back to Turkey (it’s been so long since I last visited), and somehow the series managed to portray the complex protagonist with all his shades of grey.
Bir Baskadir: I wanted to watch all things Turkish after the above, which led me to Bir Baskadir (Ethos) - another limited series based on the vastly different lives of women in Istanbul. Beautiful storytelling with so many layers to unpack.
Check out:
The Shooting Star Academy - summer sale! For a limited period, get 30% off on my self-paced course, Get Paid to Travel the World With Purpose. I’m so proud of my course participants for proving time and again that we don’t need to follow trends or chase followers to grow into professional, impactful travel creators. They’ve landed paid gigs under 1000 followers, scored collaborations whose value far exceeded the course fee, landed international travel collabs (from Taiwan to El Salvador!), been featured in Vogue, Travel+Leisure, Economic Times etc, and turned one-time collaborations into long-term partnerships!
Mangoes & Meanings - Goa: Museum of Goa hosts many interesting events and art exhibits, and this is one of them. 40 artists share personal, cultural, ecological and community perspectives, reflecting on what it means to grow a mango, sit in the shade of its tree, share it with neighbors and spend long summers in its presence! Ends 14th July.
My stories elsewhere
Stories I’ve written, as well as social media posts I’d love for you to check out.
Blog:
Instagram:
How can one not subscribe this you? It's live changing to read this! Thank you for your wonderful work and inspiration 🙏🏻♥️