Panoramic view of the sacred forest, Meghalaya
Meghalaya, which literally means "abode of clouds" in Sanskrit, is a name that evokes images of rolling hills shrouded in mist, dense forests teeming with life, and rivers that flow like veins through the land. For centuries, this northeastern Indian state has been a sanctuary for both nature and culture, largely untouched by the frenetic pace of modern development. But as I journey through the heart of Meghalaya, I am confronted with a different reality — one where the relentless pursuit of profit is transforming this natural haven into a desolate wasteland. The untapped beauty that once defined Meghalaya is now under siege, and the consequences are as devastating as they are irreversible.
Why is Meghalaya called the abode of clouds?
The Meghalaya of my childhood was a place of wonder. The forests were thick and alive with the sounds of birds and animals, the rivers ran clear, and the communities lived in harmony with their surroundings. The Khasi people, one of the major tribes in the state, have always had a deep, spiritual connection to the land. Their belief system, which includes reverence of the sacred forests known as law kyntang, is a testament to their commitment to environmental stewardship. Protected by traditional customs and considered the abode of deities, some of these groves have existed for centuries. The Khasi believe that disturbing these cloud-shrouded forests — including the Jaintia Hills and the Khasi Hills on the Shillong Plateau— would bring misfortune, so they remained untouched sanctuaries of biodiversity.
Khasi village of Mawphlang
Vanishing Beauty
Today, I see a different picture. The forests that once stretched endlessly are now fragmented, the rivers that were once the lifeblood of the community are poisoned, and the cultural roots that anchored the Khasi people to this land are loosening, slowly but surely.
Rat-Hole Mining: A Descent into Darkness
The most glaring example of this exploitation is rat-hole coal mining, a practice that has wreaked havoc on Meghalaya’s environment. Characterized by the digging of narrow tunnels into the earth to extract coal, this type of mining is both illegal and deadly. The sight of these mines is haunting — deep, dark holes pockmarking the once-lush hillsides, with toxic coal dust hanging in the air like a shroud.
Coal mines have transformed the landscape in Meghalaya
As I ventured closer, I witnessed the extent of the environmental destruction caused by these mines. The once-vibrant hills that had been covered in thick forests now resemble a lunar landscape — barren, gray and lifeless. The rivers, which were the essence of the local communities, have turned toxic. Acidic runoff from the mines has contaminated the water, which now smells like rotten flesh, killing the fish and other aquatic species that once thrived here. The water biome, once so diverse and abundant, has been all but obliterated.
The Human Toll Downstream
The impact of this environmental degradation extends far beyond the immediate vicinity of the mines. In southeast Meghalaya, downstream from the coalfields, entire communities are struggling to cope with tremendous loss. The water, once clean and pure, is now undrinkable. The landscape has dramatically changed over the last few years. The people who live downstream are now facing a crisis of survival. Without clean water, they cannot farm, fish, or even safely drink. The local tribes, including the Khasi, who have lived in harmony with the land for centuries, are now finding their cultural roots loosening as they are forced to abandon their traditional ways of life.
Coal extracted illegally
Their livelihoods, their traditions, their very identity are slipping away. The erosion of these cultural practices, which are so closely tied to the environment, includes a loss of knowledge and information that cannot be quantified.
The situation is further complicated by the plight of migrant laborers who came to Meghalaya in search of work in the mines. These workers, often from poorer states, are now trapped in a land that promised them prosperity but delivered only hardship. With the mines being shut down or operating intermittently due to legal crackdowns, many of them find themselves stranded, without the means to return home or the ability to sustain themselves in this hostile environment.
Inside one of the closed mines
When the National Green Tribunal (NGT) intervened to impose a ban on rat-hole mining, it felt like a small victory in a much larger battle. But as I have seen, the impact of the ban has been mixed. While it curbed some of the most blatant abuses, illegal mining continues in many areas, driven by powerful vested interests and the lack of consistent enforcement. The damage already done is extensive. The rivers remain polluted, the forests are gone, and the people are left to rebuild their lives in the shadow of a destroyed environment. The scars of rat-hole mining will take decades to heal, if they ever do, and the cultural erosion it has caused may never be fully reversed.
Contaminated water of Kopili River in Meghalaya
Lumshnong: A Village Under Siege
The village of Lumshnong, a place once surrounded by dense forests and known for its natural beauty, today stands as a stark example of how industrialization can devastate a community. A village within the Jaintia Hills district of Meghalaya, it is also home to an oversized bed of high-grade limestone, one of the raw materials needed to create cement. This abundance has drawn cement companies to line up mines and factories as they set up operations in the region.
The forests, which provided not just beauty but also sustenance, have been razed to the ground to make way for quarries and industrial complexes. The sacred groves once protected by Khasi traditions are now under threat, as the relentless push for industrial expansion disregards both law and custom.
The air in Lumshnong is thick with dust and pollutants from the cement plants, causing a sharp rise in respiratory illnesses among the villagers. The ethnic communities, who have lived in these areas for centuries, are now grappling with an entirely new set of challenges. Their traditional way of life, so deeply intertwined with the health of the environment, is being eroded as the land grows increasingly inhospitable.
The polluted air of Lumshnong causes respiratory illnesses.
The illegal practices of some of these industries add another layer of complexity to the situation. Factories operate without proper environmental clearances, cutting down forests and dumping waste into rivers with impunity. These activities have gone largely unchecked, leaving the villagers to fend for themselves as their environment — and their culture — is systematically destroyed.
A Poignant Reality
The situation in Meghalaya is a stark example of the dynamics of an extractive capitalist economy, where the pursuit of profit overrides all other considerations. The coal and cement industries in the state have thrived not because of the supposed benefits they bring to the local communities, but because they exploit the region's natural resources with little regard for the consequences. This extortionist model, driven by a capitalist mindset, views nature not as a living system to be nurtured but as a repository of raw materials to be extracted and sold.
In Meghalaya, this has led to the destruction of ecosystems that have sustained life for centuries. The rivers, forests and land are being consumed at an alarming rate, with little thought given to long-term impacts. After living in harmony with nature for generations, local tribes like the Khasi are being displaced and marginalized, their voices drowned out by the machinery of industry.
Eco-Marxism and the Struggle for Justice
The struggle for environmental justice in Meghalaya is intertwined with the struggle for social justice. The Indigenous communities that have borne the brunt of this exploitation are fighting back, demanding that their rights to land, water and a healthy environment be respected. Local officials have disregarded laws and regulations in allowing cement companies to work in this sensitive region, including altering the legal definition of a forest in order to permit mining in previously protected woodlands. Journalists and activists have been assaulted while calling attention to the impacts, including how pollution from mining is turning the water red and that airborne ash from cement factories is making children sick.
The environmental crisis in Meghalaya also highlights the relevance of eco-Marxism, a perspective that critiques the capitalist exploitation of nature and advocates for a more equitable and sustainable relationship between humans and the environment. It argues that the environmental destruction we see today is a direct result of the capitalist system, which prioritizes profit over people and planet.
This struggle is not just about protecting the environment; it is also about preserving a way of life that has been passed down through generations. The Khasi, with their deep cultural ties to the land, are at the forefront of this fight, striving to protect their sacred forests and the integrity of their environment.
The Vision of Ecotopia: A Return to Harmony
As I consider the future, the concept of an ecotopia — a society that lives in harmony with nature — offers a vision of hope. For the Khasi people, this is not just a theoretical construct; it is a return to their roots, where environmental protection is ingrained in their cultural beliefs. The remaining sacred forests of the Khasi, which have been preserved with reverence and care, are a living example of what an ecotopian future could look like.
The Khasi have shown that it is possible to live in balance with nature. Their sacred groves are home to a rich diversity of life and protected by a belief system that sees the environment not as a resource to be exploited but as a sacred trust to be guarded. In my vision of ecotopia for Meghalaya, this could guide us toward a future where humanity and nature coexist in harmony.
A Call to Action
As I conclude my journey through Meghalaya, I feel a deep sense of urgency. The transformation of this land from an abode of clouds into a nightmare of industry is not just a local tragedy; it’s a reflection of a global crisis, where the relentless pursuit of profit is leading us down a path of irreversible environmental destruction.
I still believe there is hope. The fight to save Meghalaya is not just about protecting a piece of land; it’s also about defending a way of life, a culture, a future. It’s about challenging the capitalist agenda that has brought us to this point and embracing a vision of an ecotopia where humanity and nature live in balance.
All photos by Gopinath Sengupta