Hooked to hash: As more and more young people ignore the perils of smoking pot, hash has become the party equivalent of fizzy drinks Sonali Acharjee and Aditi Pai New Delhi IT

     

When her friends set off on the mall crawl on weekends, Mahek Mehta (name changed), 20, takes off on her very own trip, to what is known as 'Hasher's Street' in Delhi's Paharganj, with an Italian-crafted chillum and a weed crusher for company. At Smoker's Corner, an all-hash store, she sifts through the latest hash oil flavours, mixes it with Kerala Gold, one of the purest forms of hash, fills up her chillum and revels in the sweet-pungent smoke that fills the air. "Unless I am baked, I can't think of facing the high-stress week ahead. Smoking up is relaxing and inspiring," says the second-year art student at Delhi University. Baked, for her, is the high that hash brings. Across India, GenNext is riding on a high from hash and weed . On campuses, at nightclubs and at parties, smoking pot is seen as cool; Amsterdam Dream,
Malana Cream and Bombay Black, varieties of hash and weed, are the new buzzwords and chillums and rolling paper the new youth accessories. "Hash is as common as mint and chocolate; it's the new recreational drug even among kids as young as 12," says Harish Shetty, social psychiatrist at the L.H. Hiranandani Hospital in Mumbai. "Its use is so rampant that it has even penetrated the conservative Mumbai neighbourhoods of Vile Parle, Dadar and Navi Mumbai."

Hash, or hashish, is a product of the cannabis plant and can be smoked in pipes or rolled up in paper like a cigarette. Unlike harder drugs such as cocaine, hash makes one drowsy but rarely causes hallucinations, making it a popular social drug among the youth. One of the arguments presented in its favour is the popular theory of how it is non-addictive, "safer than cigarettes", and part of the "Indian spiritual tradition". But hash often leads to behavioural abnormalities and memory damage. Dr Shetty, who has treated several cases of students with falling grades and failing memory, says its harmful effects are usually overlooked, at the user's peril, because it doesn't have the withdrawal symptoms associated with harmful substances.
The demand for the drug is evident from the shelves at Delhi's 'Hasher's Street', a row of around 10 shops that offer a variety of products from Italian chillums to South American orchid-scented rolling paper. Like Smoker's Corner, the shops here sell hash paraphernalia openly. Everything related to hash is here-a variety of pipes, mechanical joint rollers, weed crushers, rolling paper, chillum cleaners, weed storage boxes, hash oil dispensers, needles, hookahs and tobacco blends. And to those in the know, like the teens crowding the place, furtive exchanges can fetch joints that they can light up over a cup of milky chai. "My business has really expanded in the last five years," says the owner of a shop. "Weed and hash are everyday party products now, just like Coca-Cola and chips. Most of my customers are school or college children. They spend anything from Rs.200 for an Indian terracotta chillum to Rs.3,000 for some special hash such as Amsterdam Weed.
Studies also show a sharp rise in demand for cannabis, of which hash is one product. The 2012 World Drug Report by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime stated that between 2002 and 2010, India was one of the leading suppliers of cannabis. Easy access, abundant availability in cities, and relatively reasonable prices have made the clientele for hash younger than ever before, affecting children as young as 12 rather than 17 or 18, which was the age of highest susceptibility earlier. Gone are the days when one needed to walk into dingy shops and dimly lit markets. Today, from the neighbourhood paan shop to elite nightclub waiters and dealers outside campuses, hash is only a call away. Be it the Capital's upmarket localities of Saket and Vasant Kunj, Mumbai's elite Colaba or Pune's nightclubs and lounges, all one needs is about Rs.1,000 to get high. In Bangalore, friendly neighbourhood suppliers charge Rs.1,200-2,000 for 10 grams of hash depending on its quality.

Often, parents and teachers are unaware of what hash even looks like. Shetty, who has treated several teenagers for hash-induced behavioural abnormalities, says children often use eye-drops to clear the effects of hash before they head home after a smoke. "I could smoke a joint under my teacher's nose and she would probably think I am smoking rotten tobacco. No teacher in my school has the slightest idea about how often my friends smoke up, what hash really is or how to tell between joints and cigarettes," says Riya Kapoor (name changed), 15, a student at one of Delhi's premier private schools. Academics say one must understand the psychology of children to keep them away from drugs. "Smoking is a growing concern among schoolchildren and teachers need to be better educated on the subject," says Mark Parkinson, executive director of Kunskapskolan School in Gurgaon and former director of Delhi's Shri Ram School. "Students who smoke are convinced that it is not addictive and is just for fun. They feel they can quit any time. To change their minds, one really needs to understand their psychology and priorities. I myself used to smoke as a child, so I know that threats and punishments never quite work as a deterrent."
The supply chain is almost seamless. Get the right leads and a tola (10 grams) of hash can appear within minutes. In Mumbai, for example, getting your dose is as simple as walking along the Colaba Causeway towards the Gateway of India. Regulars will point to dealers who offer doorstep delivery or take you to suppliers, usually near the docks, if you want to strike a better deal. "Certain cheap bars are perfectly fine with people smoking pot inside," says Neha Mathur, 22, an architect and hash regular in Mumbai.
The neighbourhood paanwala is often the nondescript, round-the-clock hash supplier. The drug is tucked away in a corner of the shop and sold to regular clients. "Buying weed is much easier in Delhi today than it was 10 years ago," says Geetu Nair, 27, a software professional in Delhi. "Earlier, it was available only in shady, dingy shops in Palika Bazar but today you get it easily in the posh areas of Jangpura, INA, Vasant Kunj or Saket. Ask casually and they'll sell it to you as if it were a box of gum or mints." A few nightclubs, too, are known to keep a supply of hash ready for regulars. "I just send a text message to the manager that I am going with my gang and he keeps it ready," says Abhishek Kamra, 28, an investment banker in Mumbai.

If local stores can whip up 'packets' on demand, students sometimes turn garden patches on campus into hash plantations for a regular supply. "It's a criminal offence to grow marijuana or weed without a licence but ignorance, police negligence and corruption ensure that the practice is rampant," says Niteen Pradhan, senior criminal lawyer at the Bombay High Court. If some users blame it on peer pressure, others treat hash as a panacea to cure stress.
Besides its cool quotient, users argue that it's safe because it's rarely known to cause major physiological damage. But medical practitioners debunk such myths. At Gurgaon's FMRI, Samir Parikh, director, mental and behavioural science, has seen a threefold increase in the number of hash users in the past two years. "A joint is available for Rs.150, cheaper than a movie and popcorn at a multiplex. Kids believe hash is safer than smoking and the risk-taking tendencies during adolescence lead them to use cannabis in a big way." But, he warns, it dulls the mind and regular use affects social and occupational abilities.
Shilpa Khanna (name changed), 26, a banking executive from Gurgaon, smokes up to "calm down instantly as it distorts time and space". Says Agneya Singh, 24, writer and director of M Cream, a forthcoming film on hash use among the youth, "Hash is hugely popular among the youth and on campuses. It's a counter-cultural movement sweeping our country where the youth is pushing the limits of society and rebelling against social, economic and political uncertainties."

Unwilling to crack down on rebellious children, some urban parents, too, are condoning the occasional use of hash. Smita Kalyani, 42, a housewife from Chandigarh, has a pact with her 18-year-old son. He's allowed to smoke up at parties but never at home. "He will do it anyway, so it's better to be a friend to your children and limit the use of cigarettes and alcohol," she says.
The use of hash, like that of other narcotic substances, is punishable under the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances (NDPS) Act, 1985. The punishment can range from a fine or/and imprisonment of six months to 10 years depending on the quantity of drug. The offences and penalties come under Chapter 4 of the NDPS Act. Despite that, it is widely cultivated, sold and consumed across the country, often under the nose of the police and the authorities. "Even though the police are aware of this trade of drugs, they turn a blind eye due to political compulsions and corruption. I feel the drug trade is being used to fund terrorist and Naxalite activities," says Niteen Pradhan. "Probably, no one has been awarded death for dealing in drugs although under the NDPS Act, a second offence can attract the death penalty," he adds. Agneya Singh suggests the use of hash be decriminalised. "A lot of countries are decriminalising it. Adults should be allowed the freedom to choose the drugs they want to use. It will prevent smuggling and bring down costs," he says.

Criminal activity or not, hash use is thriving and evolving. Local produce and mud chillums are making way for Italian pipes that cost Rs.3,000 apiece, Tasty Puffs or food-flavoured hash oils and high-end Jamaican weed, Royal Afghani hash and Ganesha's Dream Weed. In Ritul Singh's thriving all-hash shop in Delhi's 'Hasher's Street' resides the prized Amsterdam Pride (a potent blend priced Rs.5,000 per gram). Locked away in a steel Steven Tyler box that says "Life is short, smoke it up", it symbolises the reckless, fast-growing demand for that 'ultimate high'.
- with Ayesha Aleem and J. Binduraj