Lavasa: No takers for big ideas?

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Some four years ago, I had got a call from a rural activist at Mulshi about construction violations at an emerging township called Lavasa, set deep in the heart and valley of the Sahyadri range, not far from Shivaji's Sinhagadh fort. "They're building an entire city there! How are they doing it? Isn't it illegal?" That's a question that has dominated dinner-table discussions in Mumbai and Pune for years now. "How are they doing it?" Was it indeed a new hill station for the region (Lavasa calls it India's first hill station after independence)? Was it a luxury retreat only for the moneyed? Since this was a Sharad Pawar pet project, was it just another cash cow for him and his cronies? The Environment Ministry finally took heed of the growing murmurs and slapped a belated show-cause notice on Lavasa Corporation Limited, objecting to lack of requisite environmental clearances and violations. Lavasa shot back at the Envt Min saying the notice reeked of nothing but "malafide intent" and has dragged the case to court.

At first, it seems like an open-and-shut case. Big, bad construction corporation throwing its weight around indigenous locals, acquiring land without compunction, and treating 'environment' like a dirty word in their bid to railroad over our hills and forests. Right? Well, numerous visits to Lavasa later, I'm just not so sure.

Planned over seven hills (25,000 acres) in four phases, Lavasa is audacious in its outlook. Phase One is Dasve town, 1700 acres of scenic hill and glade, that is nearly complete, but for the stay on construction. Three hotels, numerous service apartments, schools (including one for local village children), water sports, a 50-bed hospital, a public safety building (with gleaming fire truck), a town hall, signboards depicting curious street names (Thicket Street, Celosia Street, Waterfall Street), and neat villas peeking out from green hills (visibly dense, thanks to hydro-seeding): the lake city is governed by a city manager (American Scott Wrighton), who at this point is a figurehead, working with the local gram panchayat and the Mose-Khore Nagrik Vikas Sangh, a body representing the 18 villages that fall under the Lavasa Master Plan.

Walking through the cobblestone promenade of Lavasa, by the blue waters of the valley, I thought, "This seems a bit what Switzerland must look like." Having never been to Switzerland, I was secretly proud India had managed to pull off something like this. But only secretly, because a positive attitude towards Lavasa is frowned upon these days! So soon enough, I was rudely shaken out of my thoughts by the spectre of Medha Patkar and Jairam Ramesh frothing at the mouth, ordering demolition orders for my potential sylvan weekend getaway.

Lavasa is virtually in the middle-of-nowhere, a good 50-km drive up and down three hills. The new road through the steep, hairpin curves has changed the lives of the tribal (and non-tribal) villagers. One tribal woman told me giving birth used to be like inviting death: women had to travel 8-10 hours over treacherous terrain to get to the nearest hospital. Now aside of the hospital in Lavasa, Pune too is an hour's drive away.

Two thousand families have firmly thrown their support behind the project saying life for them and their children has never been better. Lakshman Pasalkar, representing the Mose-Khore Nagrik Vikas Sangh, choked up while telling me he is proud his children can speak in English (they're studying at Crystal House, the upscale-looking school for underprivileged children). Every member of each family has been assured employment, and villagers claim that across the seven hills, only three families from Mugaon village, next to Dasve, have been opposing the project - 17 people in total. "Medha Patkar has 17 people, and politicians and media follow them. Two thousand families are having rallies and begging for construction to resume and nobody listens," says Pasalkar.

It's clear rehabilitation is a greater success at Lavasa than at most large-scale developmental sites. But what about the environment? The environment ministry's claims seem too flimsy for even their own committee to support. Even Naresh Dayal, part of the Environment Committee ordered by the High Court to inspect the site 'for at least 3 days', came back impressed, saying to the media, "prima facie, there doesn't seem to be any environmental damage." A member of the inspection team says they had to carry their own tiffin boxes, provided by the state government of course, so they wouldn't have to partake of Lavasa's hospitality. The team returned with 10,000 pages in documents, and filed a report that came as a surprise to the locals. Lavasa is environmentally damaging, says the report, and what's more, the state government had no jurisdiction to notify the area as a hill station. But if Lavasa agrees to pay a penalty and set up of a large corpus fund, then it will be considered 'on merit'. A fine in lieu of 'environmental damage'?

'Environmentally damaging' is a sufficiently broad term. Just a quick look at the specifics: the main complaint in the Envt Min's showcause notice to Lavasa was that there were structures over the height of a 1000m, in violation of rules for an area notified as a hill station. In truth, there is just one structure that high: the welcome arch into Lavasa, standing at 1047mt. Other complaints like water for Lavasa leading to a water shortage in Pune seem equally frivolous. The source of water for both locations is different! The real question that must be asked is: while the 45 lakh residents of Pune city have to be content with just 14 TMC of water, why do the mere 2 lakh residents of Lavasa get allotted 2 TMC of water? Again, a question not for the environment ministry, but for the state's irrigation department to answer.

The gaping holes in the environment ministry's claims, and the total lack of public support for Medha Patkar & Co. aside, the question I ask as I walk through Lavasa is this: is this hill city ahead of its time?

What's wrong with aspiring to a behemoth project that could prove to be a key to sustainable development? It's certainly the closest India has come to it. While Mumbai is still far from Shanghai, what's wrong with planning an impressive Shanghai elsewhere, even if it's in the middle-of-nowhere? I spoke to a few son-of-the-soil Punekars wandering around Lavasa with their families for a holiday, and they all said the same thing: It seems too good to be true. Probe it extensively, bring the corrupt to book, but don't throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Does the Lavasa battle mean there can be no aspiration to grand developmental projects, because there will always be bureaucratic corruption and political finagling over permissions/clearances/kickbacks? Without a doubt, permissions are the only way a corrosive builder lobby can be checked from entirely wiping out our landscape. But can no middle ground be reached based on merit, especially with projects of this scale?

It is the fashion to have extreme opinions, and to champion the cause of the environment, even if the environment is not threatened! Jairam Ramesh so far has proven himself a brave man for walking the fine line between the law, High Command pressures, and an all-powerful builder lobby snapping at his heels. But as this country moves from villages into urban environs, shouldn't projects like this serve as a blueprint for future cities? Or is our inert, pessimistic, often extreme, knee-jerk response symptomatic of a total bankruptcy of audacious, yet ecologically imaginative ideas?