Ironically, it is the country's progress that has taken them backward in time. Since the last 30 years, a string of reservoirs have mushroomed and now water is impounded where once these rustic Mavalas used to reside. Almost 35 years ago when seeds of economical progress were sown in Maharashtra, several massive dams were constructed and lakes created.

But beneath the progress villages like Dasve were submerged and those owning some land were resettled in shoddy colonies, further downstream, east of Pune.

The remaining landless villagers were forced to move up the hills and quite literally cling on to them for survival. Although the 21st century is knocking furiously at our doors, inaccessibility to water, food, roads and electricity is a stark reality.

The climb is rugged says Vishnu More, a relatively ``better-off'' villager of Dasve, ``that no politician or government officer is willing to see their problems. Although the boats can take them 20 km. across the river, no one cares enough to climb up and down the hilly slopes to see Dasve.''

The boat often goes out of service due to mechanical failure or the fury of the waters, leaving Davse and 23 other hamlets that are tucked in the Mose valley in a lurch.

Says More, ``The only village in the area which has power supply is Patharshet, which is the home of local MP Ashok Mohol's maternal grandparents. Others cope with darkness after sunset as very few can afford to burn kerosene lanterns.'' A fate that 2,500 odd inhabitants here share.

This reporter and photographer went part of the way by jeep and trekked the last 20 km. The jeep was abandoned after the massive Varasgaon dam wall as a portion of the kuccha road was washed by the heavy monsoons three months ago. A five feet deep trench had completely cut off the village from the world. The villagers have reported the matter to the Zilla Parishad three months back, but no action has been taken.

The verdant scenery is fed by the post-monsoon season and adds to the beauty and the ensuing irony of the villager's spartan existence.

The signs of poverty, ignorance and illiteracy dominate the landscape. Potatoes, onions, cauliflower, cabbage are alien here, although they can be bought from Panshet 25 km away. The cost is prohibitive for their frugal incomes. Because all they have is milk to sell that too is at the mercy of the undependable boats.

Says Shankar Jadhav, ``We grow nachni (coarse grains) and groundnuts on these hill slopes but after that we cannot cultivate anything here for the next five years.'' Thus, nachni is the staple diet and the sparse grocery they require, are bought from the Panshet market.

The farmers cannot grow other crops, says Heerabai Pawar. ``The fertility of the land is so bad that after one crop, the land became infertile for the next 10 years.''

Langot (loin cloth) is the civilised dress here. The most qualified person is fourth standard pass. The temple of Kalbhairav is the remedy for snake bite in the valley. But signs of education are very much evident here. There's a primary school which is run in front of the school teacher's house, under a tree with just 11 students. Says Laxaman Vishnu Marne, the Zilla Parishad teacher, with frustration, ``Nothing has changed since my birth. I studied here now I teach.'' He is the only primary teacher in the village is also arogya rakshak of the people. He is supposed to keep the stock of essential tablets.

The nearest primary health centre is at Panshet. In case of emergencies, people are taken to Panshet in a `zoli' (a bedcover and two bamboo stretcher). Shouldered by two males on foot, for a serious patient it is a nightmarish journey.

The nearest public telephone is 45 km. away. The four months of monsoon is a horrifying experience for these people. Their huts, made of dry grass and mud, suffer enormously. Shankar Lahanu Jadhav says, ``We start the preparation of aghot (stocking of essentials during summer) for the monsoon period when we cannot move out of our houses, in the month of May itself. Aghot requires money and we are forced to beg from lenders.''

Although water is bountiful, villagers get it with great difficulty. Women have to spend a minimum of two hours every day, apart from helping out their husbands in farming, cooking and looking after cattle, to fetch two pots of water.

The only representative of the government is the primary teacher. The schools have no buildings. The classes are conducted either in a temple or in a pandal. Madhukar Barate, a primary teacher says ``there were average 15 students in every school. Nobody bothers to send his child to high school. The girls are married off after puberty while the boy is compelled to look after livestock.''

The apathy of the government administration and elected representatives can be seen from the fact that there were only three talathis and one gramsewak for the entire valley. The talathis and gramsewak never visit the hamlets. They operate from Panshet and so the villagers do not even know who they are.

Ask them about any government schemes and they are blank. A water supply scheme was inaugurated at Mose Budruk village three years back. The villagers got tap water for an hour on the day the scheme was inaugurated. Now tap stands dry, a mute testimony of the government's ineffectual efforts.

Politicians never turn to this area. The ZP member of this area resides in a posh bungalow in Pune. The people do not know the names of their MLAs and MPs. Mulaji Bhagu Margale complains the politicians even do not visit the valley during the elections. For the politicians these handful of voters is not worth the effort.

No wonder then, the names of Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Indira Gandhi are alien, particularly for the women folks here.