Uttarakhand:It is indeed surprising when the skipper of a state, entrusted with the future of its people, chooses to immerse himself in the grandeur of Kumbh Mela and the ceremonial announcement of Amrit Snan dates, while the cries of Devbhumi’s dwellers echo unanswered across the hills. Uttarakhand, celebrated as Devbhumi, is not merely a land of temples and rituals—it is the living abode of its people, the villagers, the women, the youth, who embody the spirit of the gods themselves. If the land is sacred, then surely its inhabitants are divine too, yet their struggles remain unheard beneath the chants of religious proclamations.

In the high hills of the state, women have been stalling protests against liquor and drugs, demanding protection for their families and communities from the scourge of addiction that has seeped even into the remotest corners of the pahad. Their voices rise from the ridges and valleys, but the administration seems more occupied with the logistics of bathing rituals than with the cleansing of society from these poisons. Just weeks ago, a councillor of the ruling party in Haldwani shot a young man, who succumbed after hours of painful survival. The incident shook the town, yet justice remains elusive, buried under political shields and silence.

The shadow of Ankita Bhandari’s brutal murder still hangs heavy over the mountains. The daughter of the hills, who refused to bow to the demands of VIPs, was killed in cold blood, and despite candle marches and protest processions across Haridwar, Udham Singh Nagar, Dehradun, Rudrapur, and countless districts, the promise of justice has not been fulfilled. Hidden sources continue to whisper the names of powerful figures, yet accountability is deferred, delayed, denied. The pahad burns with grief and anger, but the skipper of the state stands with the Akhara Parishad, announcing the dates of Amrit Snan as though ritual alone could wash away the stains of injustice.

The announcement itself was historic: the Ardh Kumbh Mela in Haridwar will begin on January 13, 2027, with four Amrit Snans scheduled for the first time. The symbolism is grand, the spectacle promises to be splendid, perhaps even heavenly for the millions who will gather. Some say the true pot of Amrit lies in Gangotri or the high hills of Pithoragarh, where the Ganga descends from the heavens to meet the earth. Yet for the people of Devbhumi, Amrit is not found in ritual baths but in the assurance of justice, dignity, and livelihood. Without that, the drops of Amrit are but illusions.

The Ganga Sewa Samiti president has demanded that non-Hindus be barred from entering the Kumbh Mela, a demand that has stirred controversy and awaits the administration’s decision. Will the chief minister accept or reject such exclusionary calls? The question lingers, another rift in society waiting to be widened by those who thrive on division. Just days ago, the nation heard Sangeet Som call actor Shah Rukh Khan a traitor, only for journalists to reveal documents proving his own association with beef exports under the name Al-Dua Food Processing. Hypocrisy, it seems, flows more freely than the Ganga itself.

So if the chief minister of Uttarakhand leaves governance to his men and engages himself in religious ceremonies, it may not be surprising in a land where politics and faith often intertwine. But what about the daughter of the hills who was brutally silenced for rejecting the services of VIPs? What about the unemployed youths still struggling for free and fair examinations, their future clouded by corruption and delay? What about the paharis whose lives are ravaged by the smuggling of drugs and liquor, even into the most inaccessible arenas of the mountains? These questions remain unanswered, drowned in the chants of Amrit Snan, deferred until the next ritual, the next announcement, the next distraction.

The people of Devbhumi continue their candle marches, their protests, their cries for justice. They seek not the illusion of Amrit but the reality of accountability. They demand not ritual baths but clean governance. They yearn not for grand announcements but for the simple dignity of being heard. Yet the state’s skipper stands at the banks of the Ganga, announcing dates for a bath in 2027, while the present burns with injustice, unemployment, addiction, and grief. The irony is stark, the contrast painful: Amrit for the body, but none for the soul of the people.

In the end, the hills themselves speak. They whisper through the winds of Nainital, the rivers of Champawat, the forests of Pithoragarh, the ghats of Haridwar. They remind us that Devbhumi is not merely a land of gods but of people, and that the true Amrit lies not in ritual but in justice, not in spectacle but in sincerity. Until the cries of the “pahad” are answered, until the daughters of the hills are protected, until the youths are given fair opportunities, the Amrit Snan of 2027 will remain a splendid heaven for the public, but a hollow promise for the people who are themselves the living gods of this sacred land.