It was a quiet March afternoon in 2002, and I was sitting in my chamber in Bhopal, working through some reports, when Subhedar strode in. He’d just returned from Malana, where we’d supplied the turbines and generators for the hydropower station. But there was something different about him—an excitement, almost a glow. He came right up to my desk, paused for a moment, and then, with a mischievous glint, leaned in close.
“Sir, you won’t believe what I saw up there,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. I knew that look—Subhedar was about to tell a story, and when he got into his storytelling mode, he knew exactly how to pull you in.
“You know Malana, right?” he started. “It’s this beautiful valley tucked away in the mountains, quiet and green, almost like a paradise. But, sir, there’s more to it than just the scenery. They grow some of the best cannabis in the world there—practically legendary. The locals farm it, but foreigners, mainly Israelis, seem to control the whole trade from the shadows.”
He glanced around the room, as if to make sure no one else was listening, then continued, “I had checked into this small hotel in Kulu, full of tourists, most of them foreign. I got into a conversation with this Scandinavian couple, Konard and Sophie. At first, I thought they were like the other tourists—young, maybe curious about the local ‘specialty’—but it turned out they had a different reason for being there. They were looking for Sophie’s sister, who’d gone missing after a backpacking trip to Malana a month ago.”
Subhedar paused, his expression growing serious. “When I heard that, I felt I had to help. So, the next day, I offered to drive them up to Malana. The road was narrow, winding, and treacherous, but the valley… sir, it was breathtaking. You look out over those mountains, and it’s like you’re in another world.”
He took a deep breath before going on. “Now, this is where things got interesting. Once we reached the valley, I started noticing things. It wasn’t just the locals milling around—there were shops selling imported goods from all over the world. European chocolates, American cigarettes, Japanese gadgets… you name it, they had it. And right next to those shops, I found something else. There were shady little rooms where locals were openly exchanging foreign currency.”
Subhedar shook his head in disbelief. “It was all happening right there, sir. Unofficially, of course, but foreign currencies were going back and forth like regular cash. And it made sense because the whole place was crawling with foreigners—Europeans, Americans, Israelis—all of them buying and selling like they were in their own private market. It was the kind of setup you don’t expect to see in a remote valley.”
He leaned back, letting me take it all in before he continued. “Anyway, while Konard and Sophie were asking around about Sophie’s sister, things took an unexpected turn. A couple of locals caught on to them. They must have thought the couple was sniffing around for other reasons—maybe trying to muscle in on the trade or make some kind of deal. One guy looked particularly tough, clearly not someone you’d want to cross. They started questioning them, asking what they were really there for, with this menacing look in their eyes.”
Subhedar paused, letting the suspense build before he resumed.
“That’s when I stepped in. I had to think fast, so I pulled out my ID card, flashed it at them, and in my most official voice, I told them I was with the Excise Department and here on a surprise inspection. I told them my team was just behind us, ready to raid if necessary. They looked a bit startled—clearly not expecting an ‘officer’ to be there. The SUV I’d come in helped sell the story too, so they backed off, thinking I was the real deal.”
Subhedar chuckled softly. “But as we made our way back to the SUV, I could tell something was off. I glanced back and saw those same men talking to others, who started following us, making calls on their phones. It didn’t take long for them to realize we’d tricked them.”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “That’s when the chase began, sir.”
He described how they raced down the narrow mountain roads, the locals in SUVs hot on their tail. “Every turn felt like it could be our last. The cliffs were steep, and the road was barely wide enough for one vehicle. Our driver managed to stay ahead, but they kept closing in, horns blaring, headlights flashing.”
Finally, Subhedar sighed in relief. “By the time we reached Manali, we’d managed to lose them. We ducked into a crowded market, blending in just enough to slip away. I dropped the couple near the police station, advising them to file a report about Sophie’s missing sister and leave it to the authorities.”
He leaned back with a satisfied smile. “Quite the adventure, wouldn’t you say, sir? Malana… it’s more than just a valley. It’s a world of its own, with its own rules. And it’s not all as innocent as it looks.”
With that, he sat back, clearly pleased with himself, leaving me both amazed and entertained by the world that lay hidden in those remote mountains.
Note:
The Malana hydropower station has an installed capacity of *86 MW*, generated from two 43 MW vertical 6-jet Pelton turbines.¹ ² The plant's annual production is around *350 GWh*.
The equipment for the project was supplied by *Bharat Heavy Electricals (BHEL)*, which provided the turbines and electric generators.
The Malana hydropower station is a run-of-the-river project located on the Malana Nallah, a tributary of the Parbati River in the Beas Basin in Himachal Pradesh, India.
During my postings these turbines were commissioned against all odds.
