“First, we used to think, what is this thing called internet? Now it is such an essential in life that I have to go to Turtuk from Thang every morning to get some kind of connectivity,” says Goba Ali.

In the shadow of the imposing Karakoram mountains, where the Shyok River carves its way through a rugged landscape, lies Thang, the last village on the Indian side of the India-Pakistan border. This remote hamlet, often forgotten by time and progress, is home to Goba Ali, a man whose life has been marked by separation, survival, and an unwavering hope for connection.

Thang’s isolation is more than just geographical; it’s a place where the digital age has yet to fully arrive, where the internet is a luxury rather than a given. For Goba Ali, a farmer, botanist and self-taught innovator, the quest for connectivity is not just about convenience but a bridge to a world beyond his village’s confines.

The story of Thang and Goba Ali unfolds like a thriller, with a journey that begins in a place steeped in history and sorrow. In 1971, when the Indian army captured Turtuk and three other villages from Pakistan during the Bangladesh Liberation War, the border moved, and with it, the lives of many, including Ali. Separated from his parents, he and his brother were left behind with their ailing grandfather in a land that was suddenly foreign yet familiar.

Ali’s childhood was shadowed by the pain of loss and the longing for reunion. For decades, he dreamt of seeing his parents again, a dream that came true in 2014 when he finally received a passport. Crossing the Line of Control into Pakistan, he was greeted by a stranger who embraced him with tears of joy. The stranger’s emotion stemmed from a shared history—Ali’s father who had served water to the Pakistani army, and it was this memory of him using borrowed binoculars to catch a glimpse of his sons across the border was still vivid in the stranger’s mind.

For ten months, Ali lived with his parents in Pakistan, cherishing the time they had lost. But the reunion was bittersweet. Before his return to India, his mother made a poignant request: to visit the border every Friday, dressed in white, and exchange glances through binoculars. This ritual, filled with hope and despair, continued for years until his mother’s passing. The grief of separation, it seemed, was too much for her to bear after the reunion. Ali’s father followed her soon after, leaving Ali with the heavy burden of guilt, believing he was the reason for their untimely demise.

Despite the sorrow, Ali never let his spirit falter. Back in Thang, he became a man of the land, tending to his fields and innovating eco-friendly products in Leh, Ladakh, a dry and arid region. He learned the value of hard work, honesty, and resilience—traits he attributes to his upbringing by the Indian army officers who raised him and his brother. These officers, who belonged to different faiths, provided not just shelter but lessons in discipline, ensuring that the boys were never defenseless against the world’s cruelties.

Ali’s life in Thang, however, remains a story of contrasts. While he works tirelessly to improve living standards in his village, his sons have chosen different paths, leaving him to carry on alone. Yet, he doesn’t complain; he sees his work as a duty, one that is guided by the hand of a higher power. “Everything is possible when he is looking out for you,” he says, reflecting on his life with a quiet sense of gratitude.

In the winter months, when the fields lie dormant, Ali travels to Delhi or Himachal Pradesh, seeking respite from the harsh Ladakhi climate. It’s during these times that he reconnects with the world outside, yet the lack of internet in Thang remains a constant thorn in his side.

After the 2020 Galwan Valley clash between India and China, there was a glimmer of hope. A prominent telecom company was set to connect the border towns, and a site near Ali’s home was deemed feasible for a network tower. But the dream was shattered when local complaints and political agendas derailed the project. The village, along with the tourists who visit, continues to struggle with connectivity, a vital link to the outside world that remains elusive.

Ali is not just a man of the land; he’s also a man of ideas, with a YouTube channel where he hopes to share his life and work. From vlogs about his agricultural practices to workshops on eco-friendly products, Ali’s channel is a window into a world that few get to see. However, the lack of reliable internet in Thang has made it challenging for him to upload content regularly. Having consistent connectivity would not only help him share his story with the world but also inspire others who face similar challenges.

As we continue our work, we aim to make this a possibility. We are committed to bringing the internet to Thang, ensuring that Ali and others like him can connect, share, and thrive in this digital age. The journey is far from over, but with perseverance and support, we believe that the last village of India can soon be a beacon of connection and hope.