Hymns of the Mountains – Gangtok (Part I)

Nestled among the snow covered peaks of Himalayas lies the state of Sikkim… Adorned by the scenic beauty and resonating songs of the majestic mountains. It is a world of different dimension that seems to teleport you into a promised land of snowy abode. Meandering through the uphill roads as you ascent the higher, small villages dotting the landscape can be seen downhill. Somewhere down among the valleys, the tranquil flow of Teesta river rejuvenates live around it.  The serenity of this mesmerizing land seduces one’s soul and makes it sink deeper into itself. It is not just a place you visit, it’s a quest for the ultimate purpose of our own existence.  

The township of Gangtok

Gangtok dwells in the eastern Himalayan range at a height of 5400 feet above sea level. It is the capital of the state of Sikkim and the headquarters of Eastern district of Sikkim. The town spreads across a tiny expanse of the mighty Himalayas. Houses hover at the edge of hilly cliffs. And the sky delicately seems to kiss it's heart with occasional tender fog. Life is calm here with equanimity peacefully seeping through the valley. A land that I had been aspiring to visit... A journey I had to take. 

On the Road to Gangtok

A spell binding sunrise - view from the train 

When my eyes flew open it was 6:30 AM in my watch. I could feel my body oscillating from side to side. The train was moving, though a little rough but steadily. I climbed down from my upper berth. It was a cold. The coach attendant might have forgotten to put down the AC. In search of a little warmth I decided to step out. As I opened the door, chill air rushed in sending a wave of goose bumps across my skin. Arms wrapped tight around my chest I walked up to the door. The sight that greeted me was mesmerizing... golden rays of the sun were illuminating the morning sky, silhouettes of trees zooming away and that cold rush of winter air was sending tremors through the body. Spell bound.

The sun was already up in the sky when our trains gently glided into New Jalpaiguri station. Buzz around the platform had a little high altitude fragrance to it. Our eyes undoubtedly fell upon the northeast's people, who reflect the serenity of the mountains. Somewhere across the platform tea vendors waving their hot beverage kettle were seen. In the early winter morning the temptation of sipping on a steaming cup of tea was irresistible. We got some for ourselves
.

Through the lense 

New Jalpaiguri serves as a gateway to the northeast province of India, to Darjeeling, Gangtok and even beyond the border to Bhutan. They say "Destiny is not important, but the journey is". I was about to find that out in short while. Mr. Amos our guide was already there to receive us. When we approached him, he was standing next to his car. His lean, skinny frame with milky fair skin shimmered in the early morning sun. Judging from his baby face and innocent look I expected him to be in his early twenties. Gosh, Does he even own a driving licence! A broad hearty smile from Mr Amos greeted us. He helped us stack up our luggage on the tiny roof of his small car - a silver Chevrolet beat. These vehicles are ideal for narrow mountain roads. He informed us that it would take around 4-5 hours to reach Gangtok, (125 kms). And our journey begun, to the mountains... The abode of the great Himalayas.

Coronation Bridge

After a little friendly argument I had been successful to get on to the front seat. The fact that I would be the unpaid photographer had won the argument for me. Besides, I was an armature photographer then and I loved the opportunity to refine my talent. The roads were scenic lined with tall oak and pine trees on one side and sheer cliff on the other. A complete view of the valley below enchanted the soul as we rode higher and higher. The Teesta river flowed in a serpentine path, making it's journey from the mountains down to the lowlands. It's crystal blue water carried with it the glacial chill of the Himalayas. We traveled alongside the river from Sevoke to Ranipool, an winding uphill road of around 80 kms. Mr. Amos made a stop a few kilometers from Sevoke, at the Coronation Bridge. This halt was partly because of a traffic jam and partly because he wanted us to cherish the scenic beauty of the place. A giant arc comprised the base of the bridge, colored in cream and pink. It stands as a memoir of the coronation of  King George VI and Queen Elizabeth in 1937. But locals prefer to call it "Baghpool", meaning tiger bridge as two lion statues adorn the entrance.

lone fisherman attempting to catch some fishes

Prayer flags flattered freely in the wind, stretching long across the bridge. The chime of river flowing placidly underneath casted a soothing feel on one's mind. Down on the riverside a couple of fishermen were busy in their endeavor to hook some fishes. Their empty baskets hinted at their yet unsuccessful day.  The caravan of vehicles slithered ahead and it was time for us to move on. The hilly slopes on the left possessed a constant threat of land slides. But the scenic eminence of the place seem to fade all risk factors. During a casual conversation Mr. Amos informed us of adventure activities along the way. One such activity that lured us was white water river rafting... And yup we were on it in no time.

River rafting - Riding the waves

A few kilometers uphill was a small adventure tour office. In fact it was just a shack with a tiny laptop placed on make shift table. The guy on the counter moved up to us hugged Amos. There was something that startled me, they both had resemblance. Their goatee seemed identical and their spiked hair as well. Brothers???? Mr. Amos set aside our thought as he introduced us to this guy who actually hailed from his own village. At first sight these North-east guys seem too similar, but believe me they all are different and unique. Soon enough we were given shortcut rafting lessons, basic yet life saving I suppose. A raft was loaded on to a trademark Wiley's jeep. Wiley's served as the ATV of the 80's & 90's.  It rode up hill a few kilometers and then bent down to the left into a graveled road that descended to the river's edge. The terrain was rough paved with stones of different shades and sizes. The stream of water seemed silent. It was early winters and the water level was down with no white rapids forming on it's surface.

Teesta river with the mountains in the backdrop

The beauty of the place was mesmerizing. The clear blue sky blanketed over the scattered alpine hilly slopes. The fluidity of the Teesta river trickled through the ravines kissing the tiny pebbles that laid in it's path. It was a land blessed with the grace of God himself. The icy water even could not deter our adventure seeking souls. In no time, we were in the water. Accompanying us were a guide and a raftman. We had our life jackets on, which I felt was just as a precaution. I took to the left front of the bow while my friend were asked to seat in a formation that balanced the vessel. Initial ride was smooth, not much of rough waters. Making our way through holes( water flowing over a rock) and laterals( waves peeling off an obstacle) our raft swiveled on the minor rapids. Our skill with the oars was not much of help as our guide was the one in control of the vessel. We just stroked on and tried not to fall off. It was an experience that will linger long in our memories. Towards the lowland the water became even calmer and we reached a point of low water. It was here that our guide asked us if we would like to take a swim.

Rowing through the calm waters

Me - "Swim!!! In these cold waters???"
Mr. Naresh (Guide) - "Haan, Saab ji. Ye pani upar Himalayas se aata. Isme ek baar dubki marne se bory ka sab bimara acha ho jata."
His hilly ascent was comforting but still we had our doubts. We exchanged puzzled looks. The thought that suddenly occured to me was... "What's the deal!!! It's going to be an experience of lifetime. Who knows when next I will get a chance like this?"
Without a second thought I jumped into the water. A shrill pain of thousand needles being pricked at once froze my body. The water was far too cold than I expected. It took a while for me to get acquainted to the freeze. Finally as the pain slowly dissolved a feeling of rejuvenating freshness took over. Indeed these waters cleansed one's body and mind. A few moments later my friends joined me as well.  We swam peacefully for a while before making it back on to the raft. And with this our rafting adventure was over.

We changed our wet clothes and jumped back on our Chevrolet beat. It was time now to move on ...Gangtok was waiting.

Do Drul Chorten Stupa

Gangtok welcomed us with open arms. Though it was late afternoon the cold refused to subside. Sudden gust of wind sometimes would send shivers down our spines. Mr. Amos told us that we still had time before it got dark and we could visit some monasteries. The prime religion in this part of the world is Buddhism. Many stupas and monasteries span across the mountains. I feel that peace is the way of life. The doctrine of Buddha made way to a new path of life, where sacrificing one's desires led to Nirvana. It's been 2500 years to that beatific day when Gautama Buddha attained enlightenment under the boudhi tree in Gaya. But his words and principles still resonant through out these pristine mountains and in far away lands. 

Amos drove us to Do Drul Chorten Stupa.

A portrait of Dorje Phurba

The bright white stupa stood calmly on a small hill. The dome rose up like a towering cone, having multi-tired square base. It's spire was ornated with an intricately carved golden parasol. Protecting the inner sanctum of the stupa was a square wall embedded with 108 Mani lhakor or prayer wheels. Buddhist prayers are carved on the wheels. It is considered that turning of the wheel represents reciting the mantra. The golden words seemed to emerge from the gyrating wheels carrying with it a chime of tranquility.  
The stupa was built in 1945 by Trulshik Rinpoche, one of the teachers of the 14th Dalai Lama. It housed a complete set of Dorje Phurba - The awareness being who stabs the root of anger and hatred. (As per Buddhist belief). Alongside it the stupa also contains Kangyur relics (Sacred texts of various schools of Tibetan Buddhism). 


Peace resided over the place like a winter blanket and an escape was not possible. Still, it was time now... we offered our prayers and bade our goodbye to Do Drul Chorten. 

Tashi View Point

The sting in the cold air was getting stronger and stronger with every passing minute. We desperately needed some warmth. Infact we wanted to wind up for the day and check in to our hotel. Our fingers had gone numb, head felt heavy. But Mr. Amos had other ideas. He wanted us to visit one last place. He kept it a surprise. Our many questions were only answered back with a child like smile. He stopped the car near an elevated archway. He pointed up to a series of stairs... "Wo upre Sab ji." And we obliged.

View of Kanchenjunga from Tashi Point

On reaching the top we fell awestruck. Vast open mountains were staring back at us from a distance. Ahead of us lay a series of densely vegetated array of valleys and hills. And beyond them was the golden sunlit mountain of Kanchenjunga. The portrait on the canvas of the landscape was a masterpiece of art by nature. I wondered what lie beyond those horizons as my eyes went moist. I kept staring into the nothingness for a while, but then I realized I was indeed engulfed by the enormity of these snow covered peaks. My thoughts went swiveling along with the winds into the sublime cradle of the valleys that sparks life. 

We stood there and watched the sun take a dip into the skyline of snow wrapped summits. Darkness followed fast as the sun vanished. leaving behind a purple blue tint in the sky. The chalice like night lamps on the terrace were lit up... and we decided to call it a day. We walked down to our car and headed for the hotel. We carved some much needed rest as we had a long journey the next day. 

Finally our first day in Gangtok came to an end. And we went to sleep in our cozy hotel room with the hymns of the mountains ringing in our ears.

Into the Blues... Havelock Island

HAVELOCK ISLAND, ANDAMANS

Drizzles of the early monsoon were slashing against our faces as we droves through the darkly roads of Havelock island. Twelve hundred kilometers off Indian mainland, in the abode of the Bay of Bengal is Havelock. It derived it's name from the Major General Sir Henry Havelock of the British army. It adorns the east horizon of the scattered pearl necklace like Andaman Island group. Serene and tranquil, it's like a pearl encased in an oyster deep in the blues. Thoughts and words go silent here. A feeling of self realization seeps in as you feel detached from a chaotic world of the mainland.

I would simply say, "HAVELOCKED".

Early June monsoon rains had already paid there visit to Havelock. The roads were soaked, the coconut trees dancing with the chill breeze and the clouds overhead were roaring with flashes of lightening now and then. Our tiny little scooter sometimes swiveled in the strong winds and the heavy drops of rain stinging our faces. The night was dark and cold and wet. The fringe illuminated road ahead was deserted as it was already 9 PM in the evening. Night falls quickly on this part of the world and the island goes to sleep very early. We were on our way to the Barefoot Cafe near the dock for dinner. Navigating on a new terrain can be a little difficult when the roads are new and depeopled. Still, the sound of the ships on the dock were our guide and it took us less than 10 minutes to be there.

Barefoot Cafe -The 1980's Memorabilia 

At the corner of the Havelock jetty dock is the Barefoot Bar and Brasserie. I parked my scooter on the pavement. It was a little dark but the place had it's own charm of being like an ancient mariner's chill out point. We were greeted by wooden furnished exteriors with wide open glass windows. A French connection radiated from the interiors. We made our way upstairs to the first floor with the wet wooden staircase squeaking beneath our feet. The lighting seemed dim emanating from a few overhead lights hanging over the dinner tables. The walls were matted with crisscross bamboo mat rolls. Photo-frames with retro american theme hung from them. We choose to take a table facing the open ocean. The balcony on which our table lined was bordered with thick wooden masts. The waves crashing on the dock made harmony with the thundering rain. Cold breeze slithering across our body sent chills down our spines. Me and my beloved Esposa sat transfixed as we molded into the scenic playground of Havelock's drizzling nights. We sat there for long before anyone of us spoke.

" Feels like heaven. I don't want to go back.", she whispered finally breaking the silence between us.
I nodded. My words resonating from her lips.
But my mind was churning with some other thoughts as well.
I stretched my arms across the table, holding her cold palms I asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She looked straight into my eyes. "Why do you ask? I think I have already told you that."
A feeling of guilt strode down my heart. "I feel I am asking much of you. You don't have to be in my shoes always."
With a gentle smile she put an end to the conversation. "I am where you are."
We ordered our food and cherished the amazing moment that we knew might not come again.

Call of the Deep Blue Sea

The Backyard beach of Sea Shell Resort 

The next morning I woke up early. "Finally the day had come".  Sluggishly I rose from my bed unwrapping the cozy blanket. It was cold that morning and clouds still lurked overhead. Some caffeine had been always tonic to my conflicting mind. I made some coffee for me. My wife was still deep in her slumber. I walked out of our room with the coffee mug dangling on my fingers. The sight that span ahead of me was breath-taking ... deep blue sea spread across as far as you can see, white sand beneath felt like silk pebbled carpet and a few mangrove tree stood sentinel on the water's edge. Our room of the Sea Shell Havelock Resort was just a few steps away from the beach. One could see waters from the windows. The sound of the waves were a melody that kept playing all the while. The resort had it's own personal beach that opened into the vast bay of Bengal.

A silent voice resonating from the waves felt like a spell that seduced me like an enchantress. My heart followed it's calling and I edged further towards the ocean till my feet could feel the water kissing them. Time lapsed by silently. My eyes were staring beyond the horizon where the two blue dimensions merged into one. Whirlpool of emotions flooded my heart and mind. For a moment it felt like eternity. But yes, there I stood facing my deepest fear... "Hydrophobia". And I was here to face it, conquer it once in for all.

By 10:00 AM we were done with our breakfast and gearing up for the adventure that lie ahead. There was very little we spoke that morning. We both were fighting our silent battles. On our trip to Andamans I had wished to go Scuba diving. And we had long conversations over it. The fact that I choose such an extreme sport was to win over my life long fear of deep waters. At a given moment we had decided against it as I risked of suffocating under water. Comforting each other and lifting our spirits we had finally agreed to go ahead. "Besides how often in life do you get a chance to defeat your fears risking your own life". We laughed heartily at this thought.

Our tour guide arrived sharp at 10:30 AM. Mr. Joseph was a short chubby guy, his noodled black hair neatly held back with a hair band.
He put forward his hand for a gentle shake, "Sir, shall we move along? It's time for your scuba dive."
A mixed cocktail of anxiety and excitement gripped me hard, but a confident voice escaped my lips, "Sure.".
I could see my wife smiling from the corner of my eye and I even knew what she thinking exactly.
We made our way to the diving site a few blocks away, walkable distance. "Sea link Scuba", a vibrant blue sign board welcomed us. The office was a well furnished beach shack. A few chairs were spread across a round wooden table and at the corner was a large reception desk. On the other side of desk sat a young bubbly lady with squinting eyes and bright red lipstick. Her ascent appeared to be of north east. She smiled to us as we approached the counter. She offered us the chairs and with a very friendly voice asked us to fill up a form. Hmmm... "this the part where people tell you that you are about to do a crazy stuff and might risk loosing your life. And if you do loose your life in the process, they will not be held responsible." I had seen it in movies but holding a form like that in your hand in real life is a different feeling altogether. It makes you think twice... no, thrice... no no, infact it doesn't make you to think at all. We just signed ticking out against all odds. I was hydrophobic and my Esposa a little asthmatic.

Tagged and Ready  "2B-5"

Just behind the shack, a narrow path led to the beach. Diving suits that we were asked to put on were rubbery black and blue. Was not very uncomfortable but somewhat skin tight. Hand in hand we strolled ahead, felling like children about to get candies. The sandy path was lined with mangrove trees whose intertwined roots emerged from the water soaked sand. Pebbles and dead corals of different hues washed up shore tainted the white sandy beach. At a distance, in waist high water we could see some guys with scuba diving  gear on. They were instructing some sign languages and gesture to the poor victims about to face the deep waters, and in a few moments we were about to join them. A small bench served as their control room where a young man was sitting and closely observing the activities in the water. He was surrounded by life jackets, oxygen cylinders, diving vest and what not. A "Monster" marked cap was what he had put with a sporty colorful sun glass resting on it's hood. He rose from his seat to greet as we approached. He asked me to put forward my hand and marked a number on the back of my palm "2B-5". That was our registration number. He then pointed to a man standing on the water's edge, "That's Raghav, he will be your instructor. Please go and meet him", he said handing us two underwater masks.

Meeting Raghav

Raghav was from Mumbai. He works for a few months as dive instructor while rest of the year he sits behind na executive desk in some corporate office in Navi-mumbai.
"Hello", he said with a serene smile. I shook his hand "Hi".
He went on, "I am Raghav. I will be your dive instructor for the session."
"Is it your first dive?", he said curiously.
"Yup, it is.", I replied.
He looked at me and them at my Esposa, "Can you guys swim?".
I shook my head, "No".
My Esposa added, "just a couple of times during my air hostess training days."
His lips perched back with strained look on his face he smiled at us. "Great!", he exclaimed.
"Nervous?", He enquired.
"I am extremely Hydrophobic. And I don't know why we are doing this!", I slyly admitted.
A thundering laugh echoed.
"Don't worry my friend you are in safe hands. Besides, Even I was hydrophobic and it took me six hours to get into the water the first time I did this. See, here I am after a couple year. Can't stay away from the blues now." , added Raghav.
I don't know if it was fact or he just said it to comfort us. But his words worked.
"Shall we?", he said asking us join him in the water.
It was time now.

Into the Open Ocean

The training session - getting ready for the deep blue sea

Raghav made us put on the oxygen cylinders and the weight belts necessary to stay underwater. Underwater masks covered our eyes and nose. We had an hour long training session regarding the utility of the diving gear and how to use it. Raghav was a professional and he made all efforts to keep us at ease. Sign languages were vital as underwater you cannot speak. We revised it again and again till we got it right. My thoughts were only stuck at one sign, "thumbs up" i.e. "get me up to the surface". At chest deep water we practiced immersing, breath control through the regulator, displaying sign languages and all. Got to admit was a little tiring but adventure has it's own way of thrilling you.  Raghav was right, when you spend some time in the water you start to fall in love with it. The crystal clear waters hypnotizes you in way that the human mind fails to resist. And finally it was time to venture into the enchanting ocean.

The vests puffed up when the air valve was released and the body felt weightless. In a moment we were floating on our backs. The instructors dragged us into deep water slowly. I was afloat facing the sky, speckles of clouds still strolling on it's canvas. I stretched out to reach my Esposa, it took a few strokes to get to
her.
I held her hand, "Seno, are you OK?", I asked.
"It's Beautiful.", she whispered.
I couldn't  see her as we were facing up. But I knew she was smiling.

Finally Underwater

About two hundred meters away from the shore the air valves were tightened and slowly we descended into the water. As the splash of aquamarine sea surrounded me in from all side a feeling of dread pierced through my heart. Hydrophobia was taking control. As trained I took a few deep breaths with my eyes closed and relaxed, bubbling air out through my regulator. A few feet down I opened my eyes and I then went SPEECHLESS. The turquoise blue water had embraced me with the warmth of a carving mother. It was as if I was floating in nothingness in her lap. I twisted around to look in all directions and the blue was omnipresent. Overhead the sunlight was sparkling, scattering on the surface of the water. Beneath me the blue was a shade darker. My eyes' quest for my Esposa was instantaneous, I wanted to hold her hand and tell her how beautiful it all felt and blessed I was to be witnessing all this, which I thought always was a dream. But it was right in-front of me now. She was a few feet away, her bright blue suit visibly identifying her. It seemed she was in a world of her own right now... Enchanted, Enthralled, Euphoric.

A solo Batfish swimming away

"Nemo" - Advised not to touch anything

We slowly glided down into deep water. The water was a little murky, but visibility was quite good. Fishes appeared in schools now. Tiny little yellow zebra-fishes danced around. A solo bat fish came very close, as if asking, "How's you mate? What are you doing down here?". It was so close that I could touch it but we were advised not to touch anything. A few seconds later it lost interest in me and swam away with a flicker of it's tail. The deeper we descended the higher the water pressure got. I could feel it in my ears. Swallowing saliva released some pressure off my eardrums. I had to do it time and again to maintain the pressure, as we were trained earlier. The ocean bed was not very sandy as I had expected it to be. Corals spread across like mounts all around, some vibrant in colour while some dull shades of grey and brown. Fishes flickered in random motions among the labyrinth of the corals. Hues of green, blue, yellow and orange were trailing along their tails and fins. A couple of Sergeant-fish were feeding absentmindedly close to a bright orange coral. My instructor tapped on my right shoulder gesturing me if I was fine. I signaled back "All good". He then pointed me to a very big sponge to our left, it was a Giant barrel sponge ( one of the largest of it's species). It was almost as tall as me. Around the corner of my eye something caught my attention. A sight that I always wanted see in real life... Reef clown fish playing on the tentacles of the sea anemone. "Nemo", he was there right infront of me. Bright reddish orange and white running down it's body. Peeping out from it's stinging abode of anemone it kept patrolling it's home. There is a unique relationship between the two habitants of reefs. The world around me felt so surreal that I was amazed 'such a realm did actually exist'.

Dance of the Anemone and Clown fish

I don't remember how long it had been since we were in the water because I was loving it. The oxygen cylinders had enough air to dive for about an hour. We were almost at the end of our dive when suddenly I felt some water sneaking into my mask. I did as I was instructed, pressing slightly against the upper part of my mask I exhaled strongly. Unfortunately I pressed the mask way too hard, and it slipped away from my head. I panicked. Shacking vigorously I tried to hold on to my regulator but in vain. We were almost fifty sixty feet below the surface. My Instructor quickly put on his reserve regulator to my face and released the air valve. In no time my diving vest puffed up as air filled in. Like a jet propelled missile I rose towards the surface. Desperately I kept staring upwards as the light got brighter and brighter with every feet of ascend. Few seconds later I emerged up breaking through the surface. Suddenly the air rushed into my lungs in jolts. I breathed in heavy, inhaling long. Felt alive again. I turned around and saw the an instructor swimming beside me (it was not Raghav), he seemed a little bit disappointed.
He asked with a questioning look, "What happened down there?"
I replied guiltily, "I panicked." 
"It's OK. Don't worry, things happen. Was it your first dive?"
"Yes", I said.
"It's fine. Let's move to the shore now." , he said dragging me steadily.
"Is our dive over?", I asked.
"Yup, time was about to be over", he spoke back.
"Where's my wife?", I enquired.
"She is with Raghav. They will be back soon.", he said.

It was relief to reach the shore again but somewhere deep within I felt a little disheartened that this awesome experience had come to an end. The weight belt felt heavy on my waist and the suit wet...  cold. I put down the belt unstrapping it from the buckle. A starving sigh escaped my lips. I sat down on the white sands, the waves tickling the sole of my feet. The vast ocean stretched far way into the fading horizon. It's the surface that is a mirage, deep below lies an unexplored world... a cosmos of ubiquitous blue, where every breath counts and life reveals it's true identity. The nothingness of our existence becomes more evident with the magnitude of  enormity of the world that we live within sips in. Colours of animate beings blooming from every spec of the enchanting world. Life merges into nature and nature merges into you.
As I closed my eyes, serenity engulfed me. I visualized myself deep in the blues with schools of fishes swimming around me. No masks, no oxygen cylinder, no life jacket... just me and the mother ocean. In her lap I stretched out my arms and let go of my burdens, just embracing her. She gently touched my body all around and whispered, "You are home my child. this is where you belong, in my lap." . My lips glided away, spreading out, smiling. I opened my eyes, the images still lingering in my heart and mind. In a distance I could see two bright blue flippers sticking out from the water and an instructor dragging them to the shore. It was my Esposa, I recognized those flippers as I had been just behind her underwater. I stood up and kept waiting for her to reach the shore. She reached waist high water and flipped to stand straight. Her eyes met mine as she turned around. Joy spilling out from her face. She walked up to me.
"Did you see that large octopus?", She asked with a bright smile on her face. Childish enthusiasm dashing ahead. Ahhh... it seemed she has a lot of stories to share.

I shook my head, "No."

She looked at me curiously standing on the sands. "Were you out early?". Her words followed.

Hmmm... It seemed I had tales of my own as well.
I smiled.

The After Moments

A few hours later we were strolling on the beach after our lunch. Loads to tell and loads to listen to. This is how life has been for us, like a book with a intricately carved cover... we read it one chapter at a time. And with every page that we turn has a new surprise awaiting us. We plan a journey out, spend some time preparing for it, live the moment,  treasured those beautiful memories that we will cherish for a lifetime to come and then we plan again.

That is life. There is a saying, "People who do not journey are reading the same page of life again and again".  

She said, "Scuba diving in the Andamans... DONE."
Eyes bright with unexpected adventure ahead she added, "Where next and what next?"

Mischief dangling on the goblet of my lips, I Smiled back...

Meandering into Kipling’s Jungle Book (Part III)

KANHA NATIONAL PARK

The sun was overhead and the day was getting hotter when we reached our resort. The next safari began at 3 PM. We had a marginal time gap to freshen up, have our lunch and get ready for the next safari. Cooling out in the swimming pool was all that I could imagine to relax a little. Quickly I changed into my shorts, threw back a towel on my shoulder and headed for the pool. Blue bottom of the pool gave a de-stressful feel. I jumped in. Splashing water on my way through as I submerged, the water kissed every inch of my body sucking away some heat.  I lay there for quite some time before stepping out for lunch.

In Pursuit of  Kanha's Legends

By the time I reached the dinning, my wife and family were half way through their mid-day meal. Sweeping in some western food  into my plate I joined them. Now, this is where I am league apart from my family. My food habits are always a talk-talk among my relatives. By 1:30 we were done and on our way to Khatia gate.

Mr. Yadav as disciplined as an Armed force official was waiting for us. We were just in time to line up first for the evening safari. Safari jeeps started to queue up at the hind quarters of our jeep. After the uneventful morning we were a bit more hopeful now. Ram ji had already short listed a few areas of safari zone where sighting chances were higher as per the information gathered from the morning safari. Guides after every safari interact sharing the sighting of the previous safari and estimate target areas for the next one. Tigers are most active during early morning and late evening. During the heat of the day they tend to lay around at a cozy place and move very little. Thus the chances are higher to sight a tiger at the exact same spot in late afternoon where he was seen late in the morning.

Open grounds of Kanha Zone

A tigress with cubs was sighted near Link 9 meadows in the morning. It was guarded by mahouts of forest department mounted on elephants. It was said that, some VIPs wanted to sight them and the tigers were cornered at the exact spot till they arrived. This is how it happens around here in India, The men in power are always pleasured with the luxuries and the scraps left out for commoners. Sad but true. 

The gates opened and we led the convey of army green safari jeeps. Mr. Yadav with no waste of time asked the driver to steer the jeep to the last sighted location of the Tigress. In a matter of few minutes we were on the spot. Open vast meadows were dotted by some scattered trees overlooking a creek a few meters away. A small canal stretched across the road from where we stopped. Peeping out of tall cat-tail grass was a stone pillar, engraved "9" designating the location. It was link 9 area of the park, where the legendary tigers like "Link 9 Male" roamed. But the Tigress that we were after was "Neelam" aka Link 8 Female aka MD2. She had four few month old cubs with her. Tigress with cubs have to hunt very often to sustain their family. Cubs usually do not hunt by themselves till they are about fifteen to eighteen months old. They suckle from their mother for about a year or more. She was supposedly reported to have made a kill at the spot early in the morning and was there with her cubs for almost the complete day. Hence, it was a jackpot opportunity. Or so as we thought.

Forest Department Elephants encircling around the tigress 

As the jeep came to a halt, Mr. Yadav in his usual intense composure jumped up form his seat, stood tall on the railing, putting his binoculars on stared away to a distant spot. Our gazes followed his. At a distance of around 100 meters was a bunch of trees edgily standing on the verge of a deep water canal. Not much was visible because of the dense vegetation. To the right of the trees were a herd of elephants, three of them. Mahouts relaxed casually on their back, resting against the back mount harness. The elephants were facing a specific spot in the tall grass. It was exactly where the tigress was, as explained by Mr. Yadav. But the tall grass was head high and reached the lower shoulder of the elephants. Disappointment again ... no visual of the tigress and cubs.

Patience... virtue of the wildlife enthusiast as I had already told you, we waited for almost an hour. Straining our necks, climbing up on to the railing time and again, my camera lense zooming in and out innumerable times but all in vain. Ram kumar Yadav kept a constant vigil eye on the spot where he was sure that the Tigress took refuge. No reward. He concluded that the tigress has made a kill and will not leave the spot for a long time now. Tigers have this tendency of staying near their kill as long as there is meat left in the carcass to dig their teeth in. At intervals they walkout to quench their thirst and then get back to their kill. A large kill like an adult "Guar" can keep the tiger occupied for days. So, it was no good idea  to stick around and wait for the tigress to move out into the clearing  with her cubs. We moved on.

The vehicles rushed up and down within the park's dry muddy roads leaving behind a trail of dust storm. And we were forced to keep up in this smokescreen of flying dust. Mr. Ram directed the driver to a specific area of the jungle where the Kanha and Kisli zone met. He expected to have a tiger sighting there as it linked the two zones and was a prominent tiger corridor. "Corridor" are specific segments of the forest where wild animals cross for one part of the jungle to another. The tyres of the jeep railing on the rugged single lane of safari driveway, we blazed on in that direction.

Crossing the junction, we headed to a region of open meadow and drove through a small underlying bridge across a water channel. Just as we drove over the bridge ascending the up rising slope, Mr. Yadav Jumped up again. He yelled at the driver to stop. leaning forward, he pointed out tracks on the sandy pathway... "Tigress.." he called out. Observing closely he estimated the pug-marks to not be more than half an hour old. He traced them moving ahead for around thirty meter, with water drop marks on either side following as if the tigress had flickered her wet tail while walking. Marks were very faint and to an amateur's eye they might seem like depressions on sand.

Following the Tiger's Pugmarks

In a jolt of excitement he, he spoke out, "The tigress is in the water Channel."  I was surprised by his declaration but how the hell on earth did he know so! He explained without a pause..."Can you see Sir ji, there on the right edge of the road the pug marks have stopped. and just a few paces away are pug marks on the opposite direction. That means the tigress stopped at this position for a while and headed back towards the water canal." To my amazement, indeed it was so. The pugmarks traced back the same direction from where they had come. Tigress have smaller pug marks as compared to male tigers and the toes are closely placed. It was a Tigress.

The driver put the reverse gear and slowly we slid down back onto the bridge. The engine of the jeep turned off. Mr. Yadav was back on with his binoculars and ears ready to take in any sound or movements. We kept looking on either side of the canal but we could spot no movements. Tall grass and bulging boulders covered the water bed, with a small but consistently flowing water stream piercing through. Suddenly, Mr. Yadav lowered his binoculars and put a finger on his lip signalling us to remain absolutely quite. He was focused onto something. And the next moment even we could get it. Faint distant sound of something biting onto bones could be heard. The mild cracking and grinding sounds were almost one with the flow of water and it was difficult to pinpoint them, but they were there. Occasional low growls also accompanied them. It could be nothing else but a "TIGER".

Safari Guides sharing information during Safari

Initially we thought it came from beneath us, below the bridge. But, later Mr. Ram ji estimated it to be coming from the dense bushes a few meters to our left. There was no way to be sure, because of the guidelines of the National park you just cannot get down from your jeep, move out and say hello  to the Tiger. The only thing we could do was wait for the tiger to come out. In the mean while two other safari jeeps had also joined us. They were also helpless and joined us in this game of "hide and seek". The guide on the safari jeeps conversed among themselves in low hushed voices and signals. I saw Mr. Yadav mischievously gesturing the guide on the other jeep to get down and confirm the location of the tiger. The guide signaled back with a gesture that looked to me like " Marna hay kya!!!". Ram ji answered back with a mocking smile. The guide have an unique brotherhood not by blood but by profession. They rejoice at the company of each other.

Entitled "Munna"

Mr. Munna, the man behind the tale

While we were waiting for the tiger to show up. Ram Yadav narrated an interesting story. "Sir ji, do you know how the legendary tiger "Munna" got his name?". I said I had heard stories about it that he got his name from one of the resident guides. He nodded. He pointed out to a fragile looking short statured  guide standing on the rear end jeep, "That is Munna".  He explained, a few years back while the tiger "Munna" was in his prime had a viscous fight with another tiger. He sustained some serious injuries, including one to his left hind leg. This left him limping for quite some time (Hence derived his nickname "Langda"). Co-incidentally during the same time the guide "Munna" also met with an accident, leaving him limping too. On a certain day during the safari Munna, the guide drove through the same road where the tiger was taking a stroll. In a feat of mockery, other co-guides chuckled out saying,
"woh dekho lagda Munna aa raha hay." 
And hence the name stuck... "Munna". Ever since the legend of "Munna Tiger" has lived on along side his human counterpart.

Dusk in the Meadows

An Evening in Kanha National Park

Hopes fading and heart heavy, alas! we left the place. It was time to bid adieu to the park now. The tired sun was taking a dip beyond the sky line of saal trees and dancing canopies in the late evening summer breeze. Golden dusty whirlwind tailing our safari caravan. For the last possible moment I tried to breath in a little bit of kanha. My head resting back on the railing, my camera casually lying around on the rear seat and my glittering eyes letting in those dying rays of sun.... we drove out. The meadows were vast and open, standing witness to the tales this forest has to offer. Drooping trees lined on either side as if putting on their blankets for the approaching night. Herds of Deer and Sambar clogged together for the dark hours to come, in a hope to stay alive to see the next morning. Langoor monkeys were settled on the trees' high branches, their tails dangling like dazzling carillons (bell-ropes) of a church. The summers' dusk in central India are like a hymn of the dwindling sun casting a spell of enchanting blonde rays on the bare body of the masculine earth. Soul of forest summoned by it's inhabitants stands sentinel to the tides of time. Kanha still remains untouched and unwithered ... a Land of Bygone Era.

Leaving behind this wilderness and a part of my soul with we made through the gate that kept man and animals apart. Law of the jungle will always prevail and people like me will keep coming back on it's beckoning to witness this majestic domain of nature.

I looked back one last time... I saw Munna tiger walking away in it's royal demeanor on the road into the forest, fading away with every step.

"I don't know if I will find you ever again, but be sure I will comeback... to you and Kanha."

A part of my soul resides here now.

The fold of events on this day, 27th March, 2017 were special and will be treasured in my heart forever. Couldn't have a better Birthday gift "Mi Amor, Mi Esposa... Banishree Arindam"

Celebrating my Birthday at Club Mahindra,  Kanha National Park 

 A special thanks to Mr. Ram Kumar Yadav and my dearest "Twinks" 

Meandering into Kipling’s Jungle Book (Part II)

KANHA NATIONAL PARK

With the morning sun came a new day bearing new hope of encountering the majestic one. My heart thrilled and spirits high, I stepped out of my room. It was 4:55 AM. Chill of early summer morning kept rushing through the gentle breeze. We were to meet our safari guide at 5 AM as the safari gates open at 6 AM sharp. We called him up and he instructed us to report at the "Khatia gate", where he was awaiting us.  

The resort staff had prepared a package of breakfast for us which we were to take during the safari. The morning safari takes around 5 hours only, so hunger is not something that was at the back of our minds, but still... I jumped on the front passenger seat with my camera and hat accompanying me. The engine buzzed and we were off. The head light of the car piercing through dimness of the dawn. Trees and bushes kept trailing by as the car zoomed through the silhouettes of the foliage on either side of the road.
Instantly my thoughts drifted away from the present and ventured into the forest..."Somewhere in this forest is the legendary tiger, Munna. May be just a few kilometers away or may be even hidden in some bush near the road that I am currently driving on. May be he was fast asleep now under a large banyan tree by the park, or may be he is patrolling his territory now. May be I would be lucky today to have a glimpse of him or may be he will elude me as he had done in the past occasions." 
It was just Munna and Munna that ruled my straying thoughts but i had already promised myself that I will not be disheartened if ever i couldn't meet him. After all I was in Munna's territory, in the Land of Mowgli, and that itself was an enchanting feeling.

Me, Banishree (My wife) and Twinkle (My Sister-in-law)

In 10 minutes we were at Khatia gate of Kanha national park. Tourists buzz in early morning to have a chance to enter first in the jungle. We were lucky to be the first few in the queue of safari jeeps.

Our Guide - Ram Kumar Yadav

Ram Kumar Yadav

Just as we parked the car, a tall handsome man walked up to us. His attire was that of a safari guide and an army print cap adorned his head. A tag on his right arm sleeve bore the logo of Kanha National Park. Over his left shoulder was loosely hung a dark green sleeveless winter-wear. It was summer already but the morning was still cold with temperature hovering around 12-15 degrees.   He seemed to be a man of strong character. His eyes were ever observant and his mustache branded a "Yadav" style pride. I was skeptical of his profession, to me he seemed to fit into armed forces more than being a safari guide.

In the first few minutes of my conversation only I could make out this man to be an extraordinary jungle enthusiast. Mr. Ram Yadav was a native of this place. He grew up among these forests. The sight and sounds of animals were his lullaby and the park his backyard. He knew all the tigers by name and could pin point most of their location unless they have not made any movements recently. The Park is divided into four zones, Kanha, Kisli, Sarhi and Mukkhi. Kisli being the largest. Ram Yadav ji informed me that Munna had been recently sighted in and around Kanha and Kisli zone. My hopes widened as we were to cover the Kanha zone in our morning safari. 

The sun was now on the horizon, it's rays peeking through the Saal trees... the gate opened. Much awaited journey into Mowgli's courtyard begun.

Safari into the Heart of Kanha

Safari jeeps are generally six seater. My Mother-in-law being old took the passenger seat, My wife and Sister-in-law the middle one and Ram Yadav and me jumped back on the hind elevated seat. The vintage point. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins and imaginations running wild. But my co-passenger, Mr. Yadav was a well composed man. His eyes kept swiveling in all directions. No movement escaped his eyes. A few hundred meters into the park, and we were welcomed by a herd of Gaurs (Indian Bisons) grazing beside the road. The males are lager with huge curved horns, massive neck and shoulder muscles that provide them with brutal strength. But in the calm of the morning they were just gentle giants. Mr. Yadav cautioned us not to be deceived by their soberness, they are highly territorial at times and recently had charged a safari jeep thrashing it away like a tin can. Leaving the beasts to their own business we moved on.


 Kisli zone guest house is the first stop during the safari, which is just a couple of kilometers from the Khatia gate entrance. Mr. Yadav persisted on not delaying by having a halt, so we moved on. He was keen not to miss the chance of a first tiger sighting as they are quite active during this time of the day. Insisting the driver to rush on, he kept a vigil eye on the dusty road for pug marks. Even I enthusiastically followed him but my tracking skills were no match to Mr. Yadav's.

The view of an early morning safari as you enter into the Kanha forest

The sight that greeted us as we ventured into the Jungle's edge left me awestruck. The golden rays of the rising sun dancing on the canopy of the forest casting an eternal radiance. The silhouettes of the forest background taking shapes when light screened through them. The muddy path that tunneled into the towering trees was light like a golden carpet... Imprinted into my soul forever.

A Family of Jackals

As we entered into the forest, animal activity  became more evident. Mr. Yadav pointed out at a direction to my right and called out "Indian Golden Jackal". I strained my neck and adjusted my pupils to have a view... and yes there they were, a family of Jackals playfully indulged. Raising my camera I zoomed in to have a snap. I captured the moment in a jolly click.

A female Hard Ground Sambar Deer

We took a sharp left from where the dense Saal forest  emerged and headed on to Kanha zone of the park. At distance a pair of Hard-ground Sambar deer were basking in the glow of the early morning sun only their antlers peeping out of the tall grass. Scattered Spotted deer population could be seen grazing in the vast open meadows. Fawns played around their mothers, while some adult deers with head held high kept an eye for predators. After a few minutes our vehicle was moving through ravines cut through small rocky elevated terrains that formed tiny gorges. At the edge of one such gorge i could make out some dark shapes moving. I turned to Mr. Yadav for identification, he simply told me that they were wild Boars with out even bothering to look have a look. To my surprise, they were indeed wild boars. It was only "Tigers" for Mr. Yadav, other animals were just chorus of the opera for him. He used to say, "Sir ji, hum aapko tiger ki pakka sighting karaenge." But even he knew that it was completely a matter of luck.

The terrain started to transform as we made our way towards Parsatola. Road ascended into rocky uphills winding all along the way. The dusty roads were covered with safari jeep tracks from the day before evening safari. Among them were faint marks of animals footstep. Suddenly, Mr. Yadav stopped the jeep, leaning on the railing he pointed out onto the road "Pugmarks". Faint but visible to eyes were a trailing line of foot marks of a large cat... It was a male Tiger's and was quite fresh. According to Mr. Yadav it was made just a few hours ago, early dawn. He slowly traced the line on the left flank of the road where the tiger had walked for a few meters and then sat in the middle of road before walking on. The forest and animal signs were like an open book for Ram Yadav. He could read the events out as if he was present there when it occured. He told us that the tiger came out of the bush on the left side of the road walked for around fifty meters, stopped and sat down on the road for a brief moment and then walked ahead a few steps before disappearing into the bushes. The pug marks narrated exactly the similar story. For a moment I felt Mr. Yadav was lost in thoughts as he silently stared ahead into the open road. But then with a jerk he jumped up and asked the driver to slowly drive the vehicle a little ahead. He bent down again on the railing and called out, "Sir ji, there was even a leopard here before the tiger came across." He pointed out to set of parallel laid pugmarks of a smaller dimensions to that of the tiger. These were a little faded suggesting that it might be of late night. A Curse escaped my lips, we had missed the two big cats of Indian sub-continent by a few hours.    

Following the tracks our vehicle moved along the jungle roads for about a few kilometers. The sun had now gone up in the sky warming the morning with it's rays. The sunlight screening through the tree is a landmark sight in the Kanha's forest. It's enchanting landscape is a paradise for professional photographers. Heading towards "Mundi dadar", we kept an eye around. On the right were tall trees

A Spotted Deer skipping away

while on the left small meadows with streams occasionally cutting through. We climbed a small hill and turned sharp right on our descend. While the jeep was turning Mr. Yadav jumped up from his seat and with a focus of a stalking tiger on his face he listened to something intently in a direction beyond the meadows. He signaled the driver to stop, and gently whispered "Alarm call" . Alarm calls are a series of particular sound produced by deers and monkeys when they spot a predator. Faint sound of deers could be heard but it felt like it was getting closer and closer. Mr. Yadav estimated that it was coming from around hundred meters away and whoever the predators was is moving straight in our direction. Our hearts skipped a beat on the possible encounter with a Tiger. I could imagine a big male tiger coming  into view from the dense vegetation at the edge of the meadows. A smile stretched across my face. Our eyes were fixed in the direction that Mr. Ram Yadav pointed out. To our dismay slowly the alarm calls faded. We waited for quite a long time looking in all directions if we could make out what was happening. Finally after a long stretch of time when the calls had fallen dead silent, Yadav ji concluded that either the Tiger has sat down somewhere hidden away from the eyes of it's prey or it has crossed the road and ventured into the other side of the jungle. His theory was confirmed as we moved ahead, we could see fresh tiger's track crossing the road just fifty meters from where we waited. We had missed it by a whisker's length.

The Landmark "Shravan Tal"

We decided to take a break as it was already 9:30 AM and the sun was beating down now. Navigating our way to Kanha camp as we moved, we came across the famous "Sharvan Tal". Made popular by the mythological event when king Dashrath mistakenly shot an arrow at the young boy shravan, who was then filling water from the pond to quench the thirst of his blind parents. Later, the king was cursed by the blind old couple and during his last moments died thriving for a glance of his beloved son Ram whom he had sent away for "Vanbas". A stony engraved landmark reminds us of the tale.

A halo of Deer Antlers

 The Kanha camp is located in the heart of kanha zone, an open unprotected area with tall trees casting their shades on the settlement below.  There are refreshment rooms, a few official two room buildings, and the Kanha Museum. The museum houses some heritage artifacts, endemic animal models and  preserved skeleton of certain other animals. Among all these the only thing that captured my eyes was the tabloid sculpture proudly ornamenting the camp. It is a marbled structure engraved "KANHA NATIONAL PARK" with a halo of 40,000 deer antlers arching tall over it. A sight to behold.

Safari Guides in the midst of their jolly conversation

It also happens to be the rendezvous point for the safari guides and forest guards. They sit around causally sipping out some tea, chuckling out at jokes cracked at each other. They bring news of the early morning sightings and events of the morning's proceedings. It's like the information center of the jungle's reporters. Mr. Ram Yadav also joined in with the group. He is a highly respected individual among the lot. I looked at the them and the only word that my mind relayed was "RESPECT". These guys are the people who has kept the wildlife and it's legacy alive. They bring to us a mesmerizing world of animals and their lives that is beyond the perception of our corrupt minds. I stayed there listening to their talks for a brief moment. To me it felt like the hymn of t
he forest as it's people were narrating it's own tale. This moment will last for ever in our heart and soul.    

The rest of the safari was not so eventful. We had an encounter with a Sloth bear. It was just a few meters away from our vehicle but out of our vision hidden in the bushes. Patience is a vital attire for wildlife enthusiasts and photographers. Ram ji was a veteran in this art. He made us patiently wait for almost an hour for the bear to come out into the open at the fringe of the bush. But dear Mr. Bear was busy munching on his termite's mount and had no intention of showing up. Scratching sounds as the bear's claws hit the ground could be heard with occasional movement and bustling of vegetation. That was all, no sighting. Ram ji explained us how bears can casually stick around a place where they find food for a long time, leisurely spent almost the whole day there.

An elegantly posing Peacock

As we drove on our adrenaline hype faded away with every roll of the wheels. Herds of Spotted deers, scattered populations of Sambar, a few bird species like the Indian Roller, crested Eagle, Greater Indian Owl, Vultures and some splendidly posing Peafowls... was all that we could see. It was time now and the sun was almost overhead and we had to rush out as the park gates closed at 11 AM.



Disappointment weighing high we left the park. But it was not all over... we still had an Evening safari. Waving the Park and it's inhabitants goodbye for now our vehicle strode away along with the convey of safari jeeps that had entered the park that morning. 27th March 2017.

Adieu to Kanha National Park for the morning