Walking across Konkan

A Coastal walk to highlight the environmental issues and a dying culture.

The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.

-Mahatma Gandhi

Sorry for the infrequent newsletters, but words that once flowed freely through me, have dried up — and it is quite understandable. The mind needs rest after and before some adventure. My mind has moved on to the upcoming walk. I am writing emails and arranging things necessary for the coastal walk.

In other news, today grandma has prepared kheer (a sweet dish) because my cousin brother has received his PhD! We saw pictures of him as his friends and professors took him around his campus in Germany on a makeshift cart- with his doctorate hat. I am a proud brother.

In yet other news, in India, October 2 is recognised as a national holiday, and across the world, it is celebrated as the International Day of Non-Violence - any guesses why??

You are right, it has to do with Mahatma Gandhi. The annual Gandhi Jayanti on October 2 marks the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi, the father of the Indian nation. On this day, we commemorate Gandhi's message of non-violence and upholding the truth. He shared his message through love and kindness- while also loving the ones who were standing against him. I take a lot of inspiration from him.

If you want to change the world, start with yourself.

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This is what I am upto…

•As you know, I have been writing from my village. My last walk across India was guided by a different compass; I sought something deeper, something that lay beyond the noise of modern life. It was a search to better understand my country, yes, but more so to understand myself.

When my feet found their way back home, it was as if I had returned not just to the village where I grew up, but to a deeper belonging. Here, I immersed myself in the essentials of life—in a sustainable lifestyle, in the wisdom of older traditions that bind me to this soil. I was fortunate enough to reconnect with nature herself, to stand once more in the company of trees, the sky, and the wind, and to feel their quiet assurance, their eternal patience. The wonders of this place were not lost on me, and I felt again the deep peace. I planned to invite other people who might as well like to reset, reconnect and enjoy this wonder.

•But, as fate would have it, only a few short months into my return, rumors began to ripple. The government, it seemed, had set its eyes on a new venture—two coastal highways, the Revas-Reddi Coastal Highway and the Greenfield Highway—cutting a path through ancient forests and eco-sensitive zones, all in the name of ‘development.’

The unsettling truth, however, was that no one had been consulted. No voice from these villages, whose lifeblood is intertwined with the land, was heard. The decision had been made in the shadows, far from the soil that would be scarred.

Then, as if in a quiet storm, notices began to arrive—official letters, cold and indifferent, declaring that the cabinet had passed the proposal. The highways would come, and with them, the swift erasure of places that had stood for centuries, woven into the fabric of nature itself.

•This is devastating—it will tear through an already fragile coastline, a stretch of land that has long borne the scars of chemical factories leaching their waste into the rivers, and shipping industries bleeding oil into the sea. These wounds, still unhealed, will only deepen with this new project, which threatens not only the delicate balance of the ecosystem but also the fading culture of the tribal and native populations who have called this land home for centuries.

What remains of their heritage—rooted in the rhythms of nature, passed down through generations—stands on the brink of extinction. The forests, the rivers, and the very soil that hold their stories will be swept away, and with them, a way of life that once thrived in harmony with the land. This is not just the loss of wilderness; it is the slow death of a culture, inseparable from the earth it has long revered.

•My walk is not political. It is a simple desire to witness a culture in its twilight, to hear the voices of those who still live in harmony with the land before that harmony is silenced. I seek to speak with the villagers, to sit with them in gram sabhas and panchayat meetings, asking them what they truly want. Do they wish for this kind of development, which would force them to sell their ancestral land and migrate to the chaotic streets of Mumbai? Or do they long to preserve the peaceful life they have known for hundreds of years..

I invite as many as are willing to join me on this journey. Even if you can only walk for a single day, your presence is welcome. I want to show you the beauty of this land—its forests, its rivers, its quiet strength. There are other ways to live, to sustain ourselves, not through destruction, but through love and connection, through tourism that honors the land rather than exploiting it. Together, we can reimagine what it means to thrive, not at the cost of nature, but alongside it.

If you wish to donate for this project. I’ll be more than happy to get some contributions from you.

You can donate via paypal- @ashutoshjoshistudio

or Western Union - Ashutosh Joshi

If you are in India, you can do it through Gpay or Phone pay - here’s a scanner

It will help me in the logistics and preparations for this journey. Even little donations go a long way, but if you wish to donate more than £30/₹3000 then you will receive personalised postcards from me. If the donations are above £100/₹10k then you be the first ones to receive the outcome of this walk, may it be book or a documentary or something else.

Thanks and see you on the road!!

-Ashutosh

"Change is impermanent,
but may each change we seek
guide us toward the light, not the dark."

ashutoshjoshistudio

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