Pulla Gumdesh

A Corner Where the Hills Begin

Pulla Gumdesh (पुल्ला गुमदेश) is a faraway sub-district in Champawat (चम्पावत) district, Uttarakhand, comprising around eighty-five scattered villages. The heart of this location beats quietly in Pulla village, which is situated about 16 km from Lohaghat (लोहाघाट) and nearly 31 km from the district headquarters. It spreads across 209 hectares of terraced fields, all proper bushes, and winding footpaths. Just 104 households call this vicinity home, and all daily life flows with the seasons and sounds of the hills.

Pulla: A Village That Breathes Together

Pulla's population stands at just over 500. There are 265 men and 254 women. About 81 children under six run through the fields and paths, laughing and carrying school bags bigger than their backs. The people here know each other by name, voice, and footstep. There's a natural balance; women walk the same fields as men, run homes, and care for the land and their children with equal strength.

Morning Starts with Water and Conversation

Before the mild spreads throughout the slopes, the village begins its day. Women gather on the hand pump or tap, balancing pots and babies. Their quiet conversations stitch the fabric of the morning. There's no rush. Just rhythm.

Men ready their tools or shoulder their ploughs, walking to nearby farms. Some work on their land. Others lend a hand wherever needed. Children head off to the neighbourhood primary school, their slippers flapping against the dust. Their dreams are bigger than the hills that surround them.

Farming That Tells a Story

Most of Pulla's land depends on rain. Lentils, maize, and mustard are more than crops. They're memories of monsoons past. Families know which patch needs more sunlight, which plot held water longer last year. Only a part of the fields can be irrigated, and the rest is left to the mercy of clouds and good luck. But they plant anyway. Every season, they plant. Because that's what faith looks like in Pulla.

Life Beyond the Fields

Almost every adult in the village works in some form. Farming is the mainstay, but human beings also work as tailors, masons, shopkeepers, or drivers. Some herd goats, some acquire herbs. Others travel to nearby towns, do odd jobs, and return by dusk.

Jobs may change, but dignity never wavers. Everyone pulls their weight. Everyone looks out for one another. If someone falls ill, a neighbor steps in. If there's a wedding, the whole village shows up, not just to celebrate, but to cook, clean, and carry.

School, Literacy, and Quiet Hope

Literacy is rising slowly. Children walk proudly with schoolbags and lunch wrapped in old cloth. Girls study side by side with boys. Their eyes sparkle with ambition; some want to teach, others want to build. Education is not just a word here; it's a doorway.

Higher studies demand travel, often to Lohaghat or Haldwani. It's tough. But families pool resources, adjust meals, and manage fees. When one child passes an exam, the entire village feels pride.

Power, Water, and Shared Burdens

Electricity flickers often. Storms knock it out. But homes manage with lanterns (लालटेन), solar lamps, and thick blankets. No one complains too much; they've lived through darker nights. Water sources run low in summer. Women walk farther. People wait longer. But tempers rarely flare. Everyone knows, it's the same story for all.

Health care is distant. The closest facility is hours away. But they cope. A man falls ill, and someone carries him on a cot. A child has a fever, so someone fetches medicine from town. These are the small, everyday acts of quiet courage.

Forest, Fields, and the Line Between

Fields lie close to the forest. Animals cross over, wild boars, sometimes even leopards. People have learnt to share space. Metal tins are banged to scare them off. Dogs bark warnings in the night. Children are taught early how to move, how to wait, and how to watch.

The forest also gives. Firewood, herbs, wild fruit. There's respect, not fear. People don't take more than they need.

Festivals That Bind Everyone

Festivals are not just celebrations. They're reunions. Holi means singing late into the night. Diwali lights up every home. Weddings are collective affairs, rice is shared, animals are offered, and old songs echo across the valley.

When local fairs happen, like the Chaintola mela (चैनटोला मेला), it's more than tradition. It's homecoming. Relatives visit, gods are honored, and antique friendships are refreshed. In those moments, the village is louder, brighter, fuller.

Small Changes, Big Meaning

Change creeps in quietly. A few families now have gas stoves. Some children have smartphones. There's a WhatsApp group that shares school updates, rain alerts, and job leads. A local boy opened a tailoring shop. A girl from here is preparing for her board exams in the city.
These are not big things. But here, they matter.

Why This Village Matters

Pulla may not be on tourist maps. It may never be. But it lives. It works. It hopes. 
It tells a tale of resilience written not in headlines, but in day-by-day chores, early morning walks, and bedtime lullabies.

Here, lifestyles aren't the best. But it's far sincere. And this is sufficient.

Final Reflection

You can also bypass this village without noticing. But if you stop, concentrate on the wind, taste the tea, and speak to the youngsters, you'll experience it: this region has soul. It holds wisdom passed through seasons, silence, and shared bread.

Pulla Gumdesh is not forgotten. It is simply steady, like the hills it leans on.