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Runn Of Kutch: World's largest "salt" desert & My Lost identity

10 Years Ago

It is an ocean that has no water in it. It is a desert that has no sand in it. Its color resembles the land of Antarctica, but its heat resembles the desert of Sahara. Its one end meets the sandy desert, while other meets the ocean. It is a white carpet which spreads thousands of kilometers on land. There is no tree here; there is no plant. It does not tolerate human beings. It is a place of white emptiness. It is world’s largest desert of salt. It is the great “Runn of Kutch.”

Runn of Kutch lies in between borders of Pakistan and India. This place is a seasonal salt marsh which is as flat as pancake. It was once a part of the ocean. Later, due to geological uplift, it separated from the ocean. Today, when monsoon arrives, this Runn becomes a ground known for its seasonal flooding. After that, it becomes dry, creating the world’s largest desert of salt.

Many rivers of the past flowed from this desert and emptied into the Arabian Sea. But now all channels are either dried out or their up streams are captured by River Indus and Ganges. During flooding, some of the water from rivers passes out from the great Runn and empties into the ocean. But for most part of the year, this is a land of dry surface, tasty salt, and shining whiteness.

This place is mentioned in Hindu scriptures as a land of waste. The word "Runn" is a sanskrit word which means desert. While the other word "Kutch" means tortoise. The name of this region is a metaphor of experiencing extreme difficulties which people face while crossing this plain.

This land of waste is mentioned in several accounts. Ancient Macedonian army of Alexander the Great, when came to this region, found this place as if it was a vast lake separated from the ocean. The Gazetteer of India during the rule of British Empire states, ”The Rann of Kutch resembles a dried up sea… except a stray bird, an occasional caravan, no sign of life breaks the desolate loneliness” (Imperial Gazette of India, 1908).

Though this region is harsh, there is something beautiful about it. At least, at one point of the year, this place rivals the beauty of paradise. It is when moon is at its full. When whiteness on sky meets the whiteness on earth, this place becomes no less than heaven. Then, the combination of light makes the entire region glow as if the energy of the whole world is somehow accumulated inside the “Great Runn of Kutch” and it is destined to purge the soul.

I have a strong affection with Runn of Kutch not only because it contains an ancient city of Indus civilization which I consider as a part of my lost identity, but also because I was born near this very region. My district Badin of Sindh has its border adjacent to the Great Runn of Kutch. I belong to a Jat family of lower Sindh whose some members still reside in the great Runn. They are about twenty four thousand in number, together known as "Jats of Kutch." Their profession is similar to the profession of our ancient Jats, and they are amongst us.

My ancestors were the only people who provided transport facilities and guided caravans to pass through that treacherous desert. After the partition of India and Pakistan, not only land was divided between both the countries but relatives and friends too lost contact from one another. We never saw them again. But their music still reaches our ear. When in dark they sit on the floor of the great desert, and sing the ancient songs of pain and separation, we hear them. We hear them so clearly.

It reminds me of a story. Once upon a time, my great grandfather crossed the vast desert of emptiness, all alone and with little resources. Runn of Kutch was probably the route which saw a ninety year old man riding his camel all the way through the valley of salt. With every step of his camel, the surrounding salt of the surface scattered and scorching heat of the summer put forward new challenges. He resisted the extremes of desert at day time, while at night he used stars to navigate his direction.

He was brave enough to pass through the desert with limited resources. Perhaps, the only reason why he survived in that no man’s land was his strength of purpose. Some local Hindu merchant had snatched his agricultural land of two acres from him, and he wanted to complain the British Imperial army about it.

His old age and bravery touched the heart of a lord who offered him a land of thousand acres. Annoyed by the offer which gave him enormous land but not the land he risked his life for, my great grandfather attacked the lord in front of his soldiers. But that old man had no strength left in him to cause any harm.

He was given a chance to explain the reason why he attacked him. At this he said, “I came to your highness only to seek justice, and justice meant that I get my native land back” On hearing this, lord helped him get his two acre land in the village of Khorwah, Sindh.
Today, when I take a look on documents of my father’s agricultural land, those two acres are registered with the name of an Englishman named Lord Pringle, probably a high rank person of British Empire who helped my great grandfather recover his lost land.

It is said, that Runn of Kutch is also a place where ghosts enjoy moments of privacy. It is their favorite place on earth, for they are not disturbed in the silence. Many a time, villagers of nearby Runn witness glowing colorful dancing lights in the dark. This light is known as “Chir Batti.” It is not white, and that area has no man in it.

I wonder whether “Chir bati” saved my great grandfather from dying out of hunger in middle of the desert; or was that moon light which brightened his soul and gave him strength to cross some seven thousand square kilometers on his camel. Surely, if I get a chance to visit that land, and I find out that abode of ghosts, I will ask them if they had ever seen my great grandfather crossing that desert.

A lesson this ground of resurrection teaches is that sometimes emptiness has its benefits hidden inside it. This emptiness is not only harsh but also beautiful. It is not just painful, but also a means of achieving glory. It is not only surrounded with silence, but tells in its unique ways, multiple stories. This emptiness and this pain is a blessing in disguise for those who understand.

But for wisdom to receive, and glory to achieve, one must be patient while walking through the troubled regions of emptiness and deep silence. He must bear extreme heat of the day, until night emerges with its cold breeze and shining moon light. He must bear the troubles of salty surface even if his shoes are worn out and his skin is bleeding. If one wants to find a diamond, he must enter into the mine of coal. If one wants to find a pearl, he must dive into the deepest regions of ocean. Because in the midst of utmost resistance, lies the salvation and everlasting glory.