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This is an archive article published on December 28, 2008

A lonely beach

The terror attacks on Mumbai have left long, dreary shadows on Arnala, a beachside village in Maharashtra that is awaiting its yearend tourists.

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The terror attacks on Mumbai have left long, dreary shadows on Arnala, a beachside village in Maharashtra that is awaiting its yearend tourists. Pranav Kulkarni finds that this year, the beach is deserted and the resorts aren’t booked

Dheeraj Patil sat all day at his desk with a bunch of 15 keys—”all suite keys”. Hours later, as the sun went down on Arnala, a village that’s around 50 km from Mumbai, Patil quietly handed over the keys to the watchman. Patil is the owner of Sagar Beach Resort at Arnala, a beachside hamlet that’s popular with Mumbai’s Christmas and yearend revelers. But with the terror attacks on Mumbai, this year has been bad. “Every year during this time, our resort has a waiting list of visitors. Nearly 200 people visit our resort in the last week of the year. But this year, only two of the 15 rooms in the resort are taken,” he says. “It is impossible for me to sustain. I am losing Rs 30-35,000. In fact, I may even keep the resort closed on December 31.”

The terror attacks on Mumbai—Arnala is an hour’s drive from Mumbai’s northern suburb of Borivilli—have left long, dreary shadows on Arnala’s beach, stalling its tiny tourism economy. This is a village of beach resorts, famous for its New Year parties. Agriculture and fishing are the only sources of income—about 80 per cent of the villagers are farmers—but the returns aren’t enough to push the village above poverty line. So it’s the New Year parties and the economy around it that villagers look forward to every year, between December 25 and 31, when over 12 beach resorts of Arnala are flooded with tourists, primarily from Mumbai. But so far this year, Arnala has only seen deserted roads, empty tourist buses and the occasional visits by Coast Guards.

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Ambarish Singh, manager of Coco Hut restaurant and Sea Beach Resort, says, “Even the few people who have come here after the Mumbai attacks make lengthy enquires about the security. In fact, as a security measure from our side, we’ve been checking the luggage of all the visitors. We usually arrange for a DJ and organise a get-together for visitors, but this year, we don’t think we’ll do any of that,” he says.

The mini economy that has sprung around this tourism industry has also been hit. Sanjay Yadav, who supports his 12-member family by selling ice golas on the beach, says this should have been the best time of the year, when he usually sells around 50 golas a day and makes Rs 420 at the end of it. But this year, he too is counting his losses. “I have been doing this for the last 12 years but this year I’ll be happy if I can sell at least 10 golas a day,” says Yadav, adding that he was now struggling to pay the daily tax of Rs 10 to the gram panchayat.

Like others in Arnala, Haresh Kharkandi usually spends the whole of December planning for New Year’s eve. He and his 25-member local band usually practice for songs that they sing on the beach on December 31. But this year, he isn’t sure he is striking the right note. “This year I may have to perform in front of these trees,” he said. This year, he is booked only for three hours and plans to sing two “patriotic songs for the country”.

Devram Patil, a former sarpanch of Arnala, says the situation in his village disturbs him. “Even the government has clamped down with stricter rules on the beach. There are restrictions on the timings for the celebrations, which is why people are willing to stay home rather than come here. The resorts in Arnala are family businesses run by farmers who have taken loans to develop their backyards into farm houses. With most of them unable to pay their installments, I hope this doesn’t turn into a year of mourning for Arnala,” he says.

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As we leave Arnala, we meet Salman Hussain, standing beside his glowing rickshaw. “During this time of the year, I usually complain about how I don’t get time to clean my rickshaw. Between 2 p.m. and 8 p.m., I would have otherwise done five trips from Virar to Arnala. But it’s already 4 p.m. and I am still waiting for my first customer,” says Hussain.

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