Fiction: A scheme to unearth the ‘lost’ Saraswati river becomes an act of Hindu nationalist pride

We rose quickly, almost vertically, the passing peaks abstracted on the reflective surfaces of our foil heat blankets. The chopper would take us to Munsiyari, where a coach would drive us on to the new town of Mool Sarovara.

In our extended absence, a narrative had formed: Hindu pilgrims detained on holy route by Chinese forces as border battle intensifies. I just wanted to get home, but it became clear that we didn’t have much of a choice about going to Mool Sarovara. I could escape political reporting, but I couldn’t escape politics. The small town, still essentially a construction site, was deeper into the mountains, and further from our route back to our normal lives, but the government wanted to capitalise on the press. As pilgrims, we would now pray at the new lake, the “new source” of the Saraswati River, on the Indian side of the border. I managed to get through to my editor, who was keen for me to go along with it all and send back some words each night.

The sun set behind the peaks as we flew, the sky an intense and varied blue through the glare-resistant tint. We landed on a school playground in...

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