Even from the cruising heights of a Boeing 737, Leh looked like an isolated
oasis, in a cold desert. I remembered that a Kashmiri queen once made it to Leh
only after a six month journey. "It indeed looks cut off from the rest of
the world," I muttered to myself.
Today, Leh is only 75 minutes by flight from Delhi, has the world's highest
motorable road connecting it to other parts, and enjoys all the communications
facilities, at least on paper.
Later, SL Raina, divisional engineer (phones), BSNL,Leh informed me that the
tele-density here was way above the national mark of 7.74, with 4,500 landlines
and about 1,020 mobiles phones for Leh's 50,000 people. Gautam Lal, district
telecom manager, Leh, BSNL added, "Telecom is the only 24-hour service in
Ladakh." And to my amazement, there seemed to be more VSATs here than
satellite TV dishes.
But I soon realized that claims and statistics apart, making an an STD call
to home at 9 pm was a futile and harrowing experience. And I am desperate to get
through-my boss will accept the explanation, but my wife won't.
Hussein, my hotel manager, assured me that mobiles worked very well here,
giving full-strength signals on most days. Then there are days when there's no
signal for hours. Was this a Timbuktu after all, I wondered aloud.
To be fair, providing year-round connectivity in Leh is no mean task.
Electricity here is for a few hours a day, the hydel project literally freezes
during winter, the city lives on diesel gensets most of the year, and there isn't
even an all-weather (read 'any time') road. But then, Ladakhis are masters
in adapting to their circumstances.
Local administration, of course, has the best communication resources in the
area. A few offices were recently enabled with video conferencing, connected to
a satellite-enabled network. But the general public has also got its share.
Sabir Malik, who works in the district commissioner's office, told me that at
the community information center at Darbuk, 130 km from Leh, children studying
in cities like Delhi can videoconference with their parents.
Satellite
connectivity also powers Sonam Norgoo Memorial (SNM) Hospital's telemedicine
department. The facility is spick and span (patient load is quite low). Still,
Dr PT Augchuk, the radiologist, is putting the facility to good use. He prepares
case sheets of those who can benefit from tele-consultation with doctors at,
say, AIIMS, Delhi.
One afternoon, as I was paying my lunch bill, I overheard Goba P Wangchuk
(the restaurant owner) placing a rather large 0order of 'fresh' vegetables
on the phone. After the call, he took my bill, and apologized with a rather
surprising line, "I was calling Delhi." Next day, I had gobi
manchurian for lunch.
He'd kept me waiting as connecting to Delhi is difficult. As Gautam Lal,
district telecom manager, Leh showed me, there are 330 circuits at the exchange,
165 each for incoming and outgoing calls. However, all the outgoing lines are
busy while most of the incoming lines free. Lal conceded that 50:50 was perhaps
not a good idea here.
As for Internet connectivity, I was told that it had deteriorated over the
past few months. In fact, many cyber cafés have shut down. Most people referred
me to a café run by Delhex. Delhex pays about Rs 30,000 per month to Essel
Shyam for the 56 k connection which runs via VSAT and charges Rs 120 per hour.
The army also runs a café, called Sadbhavna, which charges only Rs 20 per hour.
But then, it's too far from the city center for me.
What they could do with some more connectivity, I ask myself. I also promised
myself that the next time I'm in Leh, I will bring a Cell-One phone with
roaming activated (pre-paids don't work in J&K). It might save me the
chilly morning PCO hunting treks, just to call home and office.
Alok Singh
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