Joint Ventures

In the good old ‘60s, when drugs and peace were synonymous, they came from the distant West in search of hash-imbibed nirvana. But now it’s the lust for money that lures them to the cannabis-rich valleys of Kulu and Manali in Himachal Pradesh. Indeed, over the years, the chillum-smoking seekers of bliss have given way to traders of the contraband. Young groups of Israelis, Germans and Italians have found the cooler climes of Manali - coupled with a rudimentary network of law enforcement agencies - conducive for growing and supplying cannabis.

According to locals, the modus operandi is simple. Drive a good 50 or 60 km out of Manali or Kulu town, identify a village or forest land in the higher reaches of the mountains and strike a deal with the villagers. For a sum ranging between Rs 20,000 and Rs 40,000, the villagers cultivate cannabis for the foreigner. The end product is then packed and sold at sundry tourist spots in Goa and Rajasthan or smuggled out to Europe.

Says Rakesh Goel, zonal director of the Narcotics Control Bureau (ncb), Chandigarh, under whose jurisdiction Kulu and Manali falls: "Some of these foreigners own flats back home in Europe. They rent out their flats and come here to enjoy themselves, travelling from Manali to Goa on motorbikes. The charas is supplied mainly to Europe rather than America."

The ncb is obviously aware of the drug trade in the Kulu-Manali belt but inadequate manpower and lack of concrete intelligence owing to poor coordination between government agencies has prevented the authorities from launching any serious operation against the local collaborators and foreign drug lords.

Another problem is that since cannabis grows wild in this part of Himachal Pradesh, it becomes difficult for the agencies to pin down the responsibility for either ‘sowing’ or cultivating it on anybody. Taking full advantage of this, the cannabis cultivators use the forest land belonging to the government in the higher reaches of mountains, where enforcement agencies normally do not venture. During their annual ritual of destroying the crop, the police target easily accessible areas along the roadside. But the bulk of the yield comes from the hilltops.

Sources say those foreigners who have married local women and settled down in and around Manali and the Parbati valley in the vicinity of Manikaran confidently indulge in the drug trade because of the cover they have built for themselves. Ostensibly running a restaurant or a store, they trade in cannabis clandestinely. "There are strong indications that these people may be involved in the smuggling of charas. Otherwise, how are they leading such a comfortable life? Where is the money coming from?" asks a Manali businessman who wants to remain anonymous.

Police sources in the area say that sometimes the drug traders use young locals as couriers but often carry the hashish in the petrol tank of their motorcycles. But the modus operandi to smuggle cannabis out of the hills keeps changing and the latest innovation is to use TV picture tubes to ferry it out of the valley.

Locals say that foreigners involved in the trade do not like to interact directly with strangers, especially if they are Indians. "Actually, they avoid dealing with Indians other than the villagers. They instead prefer to deal with other foreigners from whom they get huge orders," says a youth in Kulga village, 35 km from Manikaran town.

Approaching a foreigner hashish trader is possible only through a local Indian contact, and that too only after you have won his confidence. Any attempt to contact them directly immediately arouses suspicion, especially if you are masquerading as a backpacking flower child and a potential buyer.

As you wind up a hilly dirt-track to Kulga village in the Parbati valley, you meet a number of backpackers returning from Khirganga. Once you enter this nondescript hill village, you realise that foreigners have virtually taken it over. Almost every house has been converted into a restaurant supplying German bread, cake and soup. Sitting in the chairs outside the makeshift restaurant, young men and women puff at the clay chillum filled with high-quality marijuana, their collective chant of ‘bom’, a mark of reverence to Shiva, reverberating in the tranquil atmosphere. A little later, an argument threatens to snowball into a fight between a group of Israelis insisting on singing a Hebrew folk song and a British punk with half-shaven head who does not want any of it. Others present intervene, a round of chillum quickly calms things down. Locals tell you that fights between the Israelis and Germans have become routine.

After two days of interaction, the owner of the restaurant, a 32-year-old Himachali, promises to take me "to the fields on high mountains". He also promises an introduction to foreigners who cultivate charas. To show his seriousness, he brings a pouch stuffed with several pieces of fine-quality Malana Creme, considered the best-grade charas. "You tell me how much quantity you want and where. The rest is our headache. We will get it delivered wherever you say. But you will have to pay extra money for that. Risk bhi to lena padta hai (We have to take a risk)," he justifies.

Back in Manali. The Old Manali continues to be India’s own little Amsterdam where local guides tell you "hash is illegal but it is just tolerated". Go to any tea stall, restaurant or hotel and you will find locals and foreigners rolling hash-cigarettes and filling chillums. It happens openly, everything is so freely available. Why don’t you conduct surprise raids to stop it? The superintendent of police at Kulu lowers his tone, as if he wants to share a secret, and says: "They are all so well-connected by mobile phones. The moment you enter, they hide everything." Hashish, charas or marijuana, whatever you call it, is not only tolerated in Manali but its consumption and trade is encouraged only because the law enforcers prefer to turn a blind eye to the drug menace.