They may be a long way from home, the landscape having shifted from mountain peaks to the sea-coast, but for the few thousand Nepalese kanchas (boys), it is a means of livelihood.
And if that means protecting mango trees, then so be it. For that’s what they are doing in Ratnagiri, where the world famous Alphonso mangoes, or ‘‘Apus’’, are in full bloom. Their primary task is to protect the fruits from jealous neighbours.
‘‘Stealing ‘Apus’ from the next door baug is not very uncommon here. Although the theft can be detected the next day itself, very little can be done about it,’’ says Abhijit Rane, owner of a mango orchard near Ganpatipule.
So the solution is to hire guards to protect your trees. In fact, the migration of these Nepalese kanchas started sometime in early March, coinciding with the flowering season of the mango trees. And while locals recall a few Nepalese guards in the region last year, this time it has been an exodus. So much so that Nepali is now the second language here.
‘‘I came here in early March. I am paid Rs 1800 for round-the-clock duty to protect the mangoes in the baug. There are five others from my village who are also working here in Sakarpa,’’ says Dilip Thakur, who has come from Surket Village near Birganj in Nepal. ‘‘I will return home after all the fruits are plucked.’’
The salaries range between Rs 1000 to Rs 2000 per month, depending on the boarding expenses. And while the youngest kancha could be just 14 years old, the oldest is about 60 years.
About 50 per cent of these Nepalese guards have been hired by agents, who take over the mango orchards on a seasonal contract. And in contrast to the pittance offered to these out-of-town employees, the agents’ clinch their deal for anything from Rs 50,000 to Rs 2 lakh per orchard, depending on the number of trees and the flowers blooming in them.
With indications of a bumper crop in the district, there is even more reason to worry. ‘‘The locals are hiring these Nepalese guards because the trees are full with mangoes. A theft could mean huge losses,’’ points out armyman D Rane, who is on annual leave to protect his baug at Dokamble village.
Bhupinder Thapa, working in an orchard in Nevre village, has the final word. ‘‘The people here are kind. We are also attracted to the sea,’’ he says.