In 2022, I left the polished bureaus of Delhi with dreams of covering global flashpoints like Syria. I was an adventurer seeking foreign conflict, but Chhattisgarh, my home state, had a more intimate fate in store for me. Instead of the desert, I was pulled into the “Amazon of India”, the dense, once-impenetrable heart of Abujhmadh in Bastar district.
As my car cuts through the outskirts of Raipur on this March morning, a memory from 2023 takes centre stage. I was on the ground in Korba, covering the state elections, when I heard Union Home Minister Amit Shah deliver a speech that felt like pure political theatre at the time. He announced with absolute conviction that if the BJP formed the government, Naxalism would face an “absolute end”. While the journalist in me noted the deep-rooted tentacles of an insurgency that has gripped this soil since 1975, a quieter part of me felt a surge of hope. I was rooting for the “stunt” to work; I wanted my home state to no longer be synonymous with bloodshed, but to finally be recognised for its true, untainted worth.
Read Full Story
The irony of my journey today is striking. After a daunting drive past Antagarh and a strategic shortcut through Bhanupratappur, I am finally entering the ‘Unknown Hill’. This vast forest, once the safest haven for the most feared Naxal commandos, has been reduced to a sanctuary of peaceful trees. The canopy that once echoed with the percussive thud of gunfire now only whispers with the cooing of birds.
Earlier today, at the Bhanupratappur rehabilitation centre, I met Kuwar Singh, the man they once called ‘Jugnu’ (The Firefly). For twenty years, he was a forest surgeon without a degree, extracting bullets and cleaning wounds under a canopy that felt like a cage. “I’ve lost count of the surgeries I performed in the shadows,” he told me, his hands now steady as he carves wood instead of flesh. “The deeper the wound, the larger the scalpel. But violence was never the answer.”
Kuwar Singh
His dream is now simple: to earn a formal medical degree and serve his village in the light, not the darkness. Looking at the towering trees of the ‘Madh’ now, I realise that Kuwar Singh’s story is the story of this entire forest, a slow, steady healing.
A sudden jolt from a road breaker snaps me back to the present. The sun is our lifeline out here; without it, the story stays in the shadows. We missed the light in Narayanpur last night, the sun dipping below the horizon just as we arrived, forcing us to wait for dawn. But the 6 am start was worth every minute of the delay. Moving 30 kilometres away from the main city, the landscape opened up into incredible, sweeping meadows, the kind of raw, untouched beauty that feels timeless, even though the history of this ground is scarred by a very different reality.
Twenty-five kilometres into the heart of Abujhmadh, the “Unknown Hill”, we reached Irakbhatti. Not long ago, this name was synonymous with fear and the shadow of Naxalism, but as we pulled over at a mud house under construction, the atmosphere felt fundamentally different. There was a rhythm to the villagers’ work and a genuine lightness on their faces.
An elderly man paused, looking back at the years they’ve finally left behind, recounting how denial was never an option. He spoke of villagers being tied with ropes and beaten for refusing food, rations or recruitment into the Naxal Dalam. “Since the police camp came up a year ago,” he told us, “there is only safety and development, things we once only dreamed of.”
Nearby, I met Ganga, a teacher’s wife, who was smiling from ear to ear. She explained that while they used to laugh in the past, that laughter was always laced with fear. Now, she says, they can smile with ease and live a life unburdened by that weight. The physical transformation of the village mirrors this shift; the old pagtandis, or dirt tracks, have been replaced by paved roads, allowing buses to ply deep into the forest.
Perhaps the most striking sign of change is Ganga’s awareness of the outside world. When asked about Prime Minister Narendra Modi, she mentioned his “white beard”, adding that she had seen him on social media. It is a vivid sign that mobile connectivity has finally reached these remote corners.
A little further down the road, the silence of the forest was broken by a sound that felt like a miracle in this terrain, a chorus of children reciting, “A for Apple, B for Ball.” The primary school here, which started just last year, currently has six or seven regular students, but its impact is immense.
Their teacher said that while Naxals once actively blocked education, they can now focus on both learning and health. They follow a strict midday meal menu, poha with peanuts or alia, to ensure proper nutrition. Hearing that chorus in a place once defined by silence and conflict was overwhelming; in just one year, childhood here has been transformed in unimaginable ways.
We eventually followed a man towards a clean, new structure, a Primary Health Centre built last year for Rs 28 lakh. He was heading in to get his blood pressure checked, a simple act of self-care that was once impossible here.
Inside, Community Health Officer Dr Namita Netam explained that they are now carrying out consistent OPD treatments. She said that while these communities have relied on nature for healing for generations, awareness is slowly growing. Villagers are beginning to place their faith in modern medicine, realising that safety, education and health are finally within reach.
Our journey culminated at the 124 battalion of the BSF camp, which coincidentally completed two years of establishment on March 31. Looking at the progress made, whether the camp will even need to remain for much longer has become a genuine question.
I had never thought this day would come, but seeing such work on the ground, not just on paper, is remarkable. The government addressed the core issue; establishing these camps became the turning point that enabled change in both security and mindset.
The experience is overwhelming. The shadow that once defined Chhattisgarh is lifting. The “Unknown Hill” is finally being seen in a new light.
– Ends
Published By:
Sonali Verma
Published On:
Mar 31, 2026 12:57 IST
Tune In
