'The Rise and Fall of Sula' by K.J.S.Chatrath*

A water fountain in Paris

I was back in India after a rewarding stay of over a year in France, which included a month spent in the world famous mineral water town of Vichy. I was naturally full of stories of my stay in France, much to the annoyance of some. At one such session, on my mentioning the mineral water of Vichy, a friend informed me, quite patriotically, that an excellent source of natural mineral water having curative properties and been discovered in some place in Palampur district of Himachal Pradesh. By the India had not year entered the bottle-tap-water-called-mineral-water age and one had to go to the source to take mineral water. Then somehow the conversation took a totally different turn. Years passed by. It was after about five year that I had a chance of visiting Palampur.

A view from Palampur

I was really impressed by the majestic beauty of the Dhauladhar ranges. I told my host while returning in taxi to Palampur after a visit to a distant spot that I had heard about a mineral water source in Palampur and that I would very much like to visit it. Ah, no problem, he said, we will take a route that goes through the mineral water village of Sula and he gave necessary instructions to the driver.

The taxi driver was an old Himachali, who, from his getup and impressive moustaches, appeared to be an ex-army personnel. Those were the days when I too was nursing a massive set of moustaches. We glanced appreciatively at each other’s moustaches and an invisible rapport was created instantly. “Driver Sahib, app kya fauj mein they?” (Driver Sahib, were you I the army), I asked. He very proudly said yes and put me a counter question asking if I too had been in the army. Unfortunately no, I replied regretfully, being a solid admirer of army’s discipline I was very keen but I has weak eyesight right from the school days. He nodded, I thought quite sympathetically. The ice having been broken, a wonderful conversation followed. For the rest of the journey, I dropped the work “driver” and addressed him as “Sahib” only. He reciprocated and called me a respectful but affectionate “Sir ji” all through the journey.

An gracefull gentleman with impressive moustaches- from the northern hilly regions of India

Please tell me about the geography and history of Sula’s mineral water, I requested him. Sir ji, I will tell you not only the history and geography but also the politics, he chuckled with a mischievous smile.

He turned out to be a remarkable story teller. Sir ji, once the news about the curative properties of the water spread, there was no stopping Sula, he started. It became the hottest topic of discussion in an otherwise very calm and peaceful State. Soon all kinds of incredible stories of people having been cured of dangerous diseases after having taken Sula water spread. Business and economy of Sula started booming with large hordes of people arriving every day from all parts of the State and even from outside the State for getting cured, It had its impact in the socio-domestic fields too. One started getting messages from long forgotten relatives requesting for sending a few bottles of the by now famous Sula Water. The final sign that the place had “arrived” was that the government servants started using pulls and pushes to get a posting as near Sula as possible. Transport department became especially important. Sir ji, you won’t believe me, smiled the driver, the rooftops of the buses became overloaded with jerrycans of mineral water being transported by the transport department staff for their bosses, colleagues, relatives etc, Mineral water had its political fallout too. People’s representatives elected from that region became very influential. “But then what went wrong”, I interrupted.

Sir ji, ultimately the reason, which led to its fame and rise, also became the cause of its fall from grace – the mineral water, It started with the installation of two plastic tanks where the spring water would drip in and could be taken out through taps. By then the polite people of Sula had became tired of looking after an unending queue of near and dear, and not so near and not so dear relations. It had its impact on the politics of the State too – there was pressure on other MLAs to discover similar sources in their constituencies. A whisper campaign started that the water was not really that good and that the natural properties of the water had been lost because instead of letting it flow in the natural way, it was first getting collected in plastic tanks, said the rumour mills. Stories of some sources of better mineral water, having even more miraculous properties having been discovered in some other districts/constituencies also started floating in the air. And suddenly after a sharp curve the taxi stopped and the driver announced that we had reached Sula. Sir ji, after drinking the water you tell us whether it is good or not, said the driver very impartially.

It was dark by then and a fairly dim bulb was providing some lazy rays of light. We filled our bottles with the magical water and I sat back in the taxi feeling totally tired by then. On the journey back to Palampur, I slowly and very gradually finished a bottle of Sula water, sipping it in the tradition of the best wines, letting it roll over my tongue. It tasted really good. And a littler later we reached Palampur. I went straight to the loo and felt remarkable light and nice after relieving myself, and wondered how much of driver’s tale was true!

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*From my book 'The French Collection'