Saturday, December 21, 2024

The Salt Makers of the Little Rann of Kutch

Kalubhai


Kalubhai. I have had the privilege of spending 2 days with Kalubhai and his family. Kalubhai is a 4th generation salt maker from the Little Rann of Kutch.

The Rann is a harsh place - barren with almost no good water. The sun beats down so hard that people not accustomed to this climate will not be able to survive a summer here. The wild asses roam this arid land. The raptors fly over it looking for food. This almost featureless vast landscape extends upto where the sky meets the horizon. Walking on the parched cracked earth gives you a sense of melancholy.

The land oozes salt water. This is what is used for the salt making. Shallow wells are dug and the water is pumped into the salt pans. The once manual process had shifted to using water pumps running 24/7 on crude oil. Now they run only at night. Electric pumps run in the daytime powered by 2 large solar pannels. You can see these pannels dotted around the landscape - indicating where a family is working.

Salt-making is a laborious task. They work barefoot in the salt pans. This takes a toll on their legs and feet, and older people have permanent swellings and thickening of their skin. Both Kalubhai and his wife work this tough job.

The land taketh but it also giveth. You get to see the sun rise from the ground on the horizon - shining in its vast glory. The nights are fantastic with millions of stars adorning it. The air is crisp and clean. There is a simplicity to this life which balances the harsh realities.

We entered this remote and mystical world through the gateway at Zhinzhuwada. Kalubhai's elder son met us at the Vasraj dada temple at the edge of the Rann. Vasraj dada is the local deity who is supposed to have fought with a monster to protect his cows. He was beheaded but still continued to fight. There are two temples - one where his head fell and the other where his body fell. The later is a large complex where a yearly festival of some size occurs.

Kalubhai and his wife fed us home cooked and love infused food. Bajra rotla and mixed veg sabzi, fresh toor rassa sabzi, special suji halva. All washed down with lots of chaas. We sat under the shade of the solar panels and listened to their simple life.

We drove across the Rann to the larger Vasraj dada temple. An unforgettable journey! I had the feeling of being on an alien planet. The vast grey-brown landscape stretched all around us. Seemingly unending.

At the temple we had the prasad lunch. Sweet rice, chapati's and mixed-veg sabji. And chaas. We washed and cleaned our plates after eating. Then we rested for some time before heading back.

One the next day we attempted to get to the nearby dam but out vehicle got stuck in the sticky mud. Some of the areas are wet muddy slush and they appear darker. Mukesh - Kalubhai's son - was guiding us but he, being used to his light two wheeler, misjudged a patch. Our heavy car just sunk and refused to budge. After trying with stones and wood sticks and what not we finally got a tractor to pull us out.

We had pitched out tents next to the hut to protect somewhat from the wind which can get pretty strong. The nights were chill - about 13C. Early morning Kalubhai's wife made us hot puri's to go with the sweet black tea they drank. The tea had a distinctive salty taste due to the water. Super tasty combination.

After two nights experiencing the loving hospitality of these hardy folks, we bid adieu and headed back towards reality.


The Rann is vast. It is flat and featureless. The horizon stretches out in all directions. The landscape evokes a sense of melancholy.

The landscape is dotted with these small temples dedicated to various deities. They serve as markers on this featureless landscape.

Kalubhai's wife working on the pan. They flatten the base with their bare feet as they preapre a new pan. It is very hard work. The mud is sticky. When dried it hardens like a rock. We had to use screwdrivers to get it out of our shoes.

A control board. Sort of. Control of the pumps.

The boys of the Rann. Children of the salt makers

The vast Rann

Our vehicle got stuck in the salty mud and had to be pulled out by a tractor.

The gate at Zhinjuwada - The gateway to the Rann

The salt pans

The salt pans

Dawn. The white salt reflected the sky vividly.

Arrid

Food for the soul

Bajra rotla's, fresh toor rassa, special halva. It was amazing food.

We spent two nights in our tents next to their hut.

We bid adieu to Kalubhai and his family in the cold morning.