A Walk Through Wilderness !

A hill station is a perfect place to unwind as it provides ample solace, quietude and takes you closer to nature. Out there, the stars appear closer and the moon remains happily perched over your shoulders. Dawn breaks and somewhere in the hills, an orange ball begins to rise. Imagine walking slowly on a beaten track over the slopes, covered with shrubs and dried leaves. The whistling wind clears your path, blows little spec of dust on your shoes and the dead leaves whisper loudly. Thick yellow rays pass through the branches and lit your path. In the next moment, the sun plays hide and seek with the trees.

You slowly wade through the misty clouds, serene, salubrious weather, and pollution free atmosphere. Almost every hill station boasts of quaint shops, gabled houses embellished with wooden decors and brightly coloured sloping roofs with dish antennas. Once in a while you come across charming facades, immaculately painted picket fences surrounding dark colonial stone structures overlooking courtyards, neat little orchards with cleverly laid driveway made from broken bricks, pebbles and gravel.

You stroll further and end up at a turn that offers a breathtaking view. The joy of watching the ground below and the splendid panorama in front is simply unbelievable. You feel rejuvenated and for a moment forget the regular grind of drudged city life. Every object in distance appears smaller and several waterfalls become visible. Somewhere near the horizon, you see a shinning river becoming wider, zigzagging across valleys and intersecting the lush green plains. Suddenly the plains look more attractive and alluring.

People often share their experiences of visiting various hill stations but seldom do we enjoy the beauty of foothills and the nearby plains.

Last week it was fun traveling everyday between Chandigarh and Himachal Pradesh. Little did I realize that the place where I was headed to would be so picturesque!

Watching the resplendent blue -green Shivalik hills from Baddi situated in the Solon district of Himachal Pradesh was an amazing experience. Almost every pharmaceutical company whether large or small have built a factory here. With tax incentives schemes and plethora of benefits offered to investors this place seems to be cropping up with reputed Indian and foreign FMCG companies.

I was lucky to spend my time in a place called HIMUDA Educational hub, Barotiwala (20 minutes away from Baddi) located at the foothills of Kasauli hill station. This place promises to become educational hub in Himachal Pradesh with several prominent Universities coming up in the area. It already has Chitkara University, one of the leading educational institutions in North India. With state of the art infrastructure and over 700 students pursuing various courses in engineering, general studies and management, the entire area seems to be a perfect place for emerging and growing companies in HP, Punjab, Haryana and Delhi to attract talent.

The 90 minutes drive from Chandigarh takes you through Haryana via Panchkula and the famous Mogul gardens in Pinjore. The road is surrounded by lush green meadows, maize and wheat fields. The vehicle stops and with it also the clock, making way for the cattle to majestically cross the street. You can see the hand pumps fixed near the plastered brick water tanks. You see men toiling in the fields behind, women carrying water and children sometimes waving and running on the street. Small garages and shops on the road display various wares. The biggest shop in every village is liquor and wine theka (shop) and these shops are well decorated. There are separate shops for country (Tharra – local brew) and Angreji (foreign or branded) liquor. There are tiny Dhaba’s (food joint) with enviable parking space.

Throughout the journey, you see magnificent contours of Shivalik hills, HMT colony and various villages. Several brick kilns greet you as soon as you enter Boratiwala. The tall chimneys remind you of Qutab Minar. Every chimney indicates the religion of the owner as it displays Hindu and Sikh religious symbols with pride. I was glad to find the end product i.e. the bricks similar. The place is abuzz with excavation and construction activities.

The Shivalik hills are also known as sub- Himalayas or foothills and are created due to the rise in Himalayas. The hills run from southwest Kashmir, to North India, into North East in Sikkim and finally end up in Southern Nepal. Their altitude varies between 900 to 2300 meters. These hills are the source of the rivers like Saraswati, Ghaggar, Tangri and Markanda. The hills cover some parts of Haryana viz; Panchkula, Ambala and Yamunanagar districts. The hills consist of layered rocks with beautiful Chir pine, Sal and oak forests. The entire topography has a shallow erodable soil; unsuitable for agriculture however irrigation makes it easier to cultivate paddy.

Lord Indra was extremely benevolent last week. It rained heavily, the hills were no longer visible and a thick fog engulfed everything. After 3 days of incessant rains, the sun came back from its Hammam break (Turkish bath). The meadows glossed in greenery reminding you of golf courses in Ireland. Somewhere up on the ridges, a lone white cloud happily tangoed with the wind. The atmosphere suddenly changed and everything looked pristine.

From the foothills you could clearly see the famous tall imposing Television Tower at Kasauli (6400 feet) and further up, a faint silhouette of the ropeway cable became visible. The rains made the houses in Kasauli look fresh, white washed and inviting. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to identify the famous Lawrence school at Kasauli or perhaps it lies on the other side of the hill.

Kasauli was hardly 35-40 kms away from my work place. From the foothills, it is easier to gauge that Kasauli promises to offer unspoilt natural beauty, lots of options for nature trails, and a refreshing climate. Kasauli is a good detour between Shimla and Kalka, and is often called lesser Shimla. My driver tells me that tourist generally prefer the bustling Shimla which is 3 hours away over this sleepy hill station but Kasauli is fast becoming one of the favorite weekend getaway.

Late afternoon, a leisurely walk around the foothills takes you through stunning flora and fauna. Don’t be surprised if a weird thought of discovering a shortest route to Kasauli crosses your mind. You enter the woods. The birds are mellifluously singing. You come across a dry river bed, and walk in the direction of the hills. Few moments later you begin to enjoy the sound of silence. A cool breeze caresses your face and your hair gently jives in rhythm. The pine–scent gets thicker and everything around you appears brown, dark brown, green and dark green.

You discover a small stream rapidly moving towards the river bed. The clear water forcefully hits the stones, producing greater turbulence and a wonderful symphony. Like a child, you are tempted to pick up the colorful pebbles lying around. Soon you stumble upon an area mushrooming with small weeds, shrubs, plants, wild flowers and carefully avoid trampling it.

The river bends and a ravine begins to unfold. You muster some courage and enter this ravine. Near the sloping edges, you could distinctly see several dusty paths in various directions. Robert Frost’s famous poem “The Road Not Taken” begins to play in your mind.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;…”

Suddenly you hear a voice followed with a loud echo. Someone from the group reminds you, “The sun is about to set.” The twilight hue makes the sky dusky, brownish –orange, scattered with light blue pigments. The chirping gets louder and flocks of bird head towards the hills. You halt.

Next moment, you turn around, look in the direction of ravine, your eyes move faster following one of the beaten tracks that quickly disappears in the woods and hopefully leads atop. Slowly and reluctantly you return to the familiar construction site where a car is waiting to take you on that dreadful highway to Chandigarh. The car gathers some speed and the hills move further and further away. It gets dark, the lullaby wind blows, and you quickly fall asleep only to wake up with a sudden jolt. You again shut your eyes; smile because next morning, the Shivaliks would again beckon you.

The road from Chandigarh to Baddi goes through Panchkula, Pinjore and extensively cuts across the state of Haryana. The entire stretch is full of potholes, ditches and craters bigger than those found on the moon. Don’t be surprised if you experience therapeutic manipulations in the car.

Everyday almost hundreds of vehicles ply on this road and yet no one seems to be bothered to repair the road. This is the shortest road to the industrial belt in HP. According to locals, Haryana government does not receive any economic benefit and therefore is least interested to mend this road. I don’t think the locals would object if Haryana government levies and collects toll to maintain the road.

Having said that, the road from Kalka is long and little better. Let’s hopes this road and the spectacular topography of the plains do not detiorate quickly! … But then don’t all economic development, construction, towns and cities sprung and flourish near the foothills!...

Konkan Sojourn - Sand, Sea, Stars, Spirituality and Some Solace !...

Day 1 - Amorous Escapade

The peregrination to Konkan was eagerly awaited. The itinerary to Kudal and Goa was meticulously planned by my father in law and since he frequently visits Konkan, we weren’t worried about the logistics. My in-laws were little tense; they had organized a religious Pooja at Lord Purshottam’s (their family deity) temple at Parule, Kudal. But they were equally elated as their two daughters - Sonali and Vrushali along with their better half (Anand and me) were accompanying them for a short holiday.

I am not devoutly religious and since all religions are pearls of the same string, I considered this short tour as a much required holiday. Visiting temples, different shrines promised me of interesting perspective about the history of the place, and a glimpse into some unbelievable architecture of various eras. Moreover, the gorgeous region of Konkan with its pristine coastline and rapturous hilly ranges of Shayadri assured enchanting holidays.

We boarded the Konkan Kanya express from Thane around 23:45 hours. The train was on time. The 3-tier AC compartment was bereft of rubbish, floating vomit, and instead had well dressed staff selling packed food and beverages. I quickly perched on the topmost berth reading Rahul Bhattacharya’s interesting book Pundits from Pakistan. The berth seem to receive abundant carbon dioxide, unintentionally blown by passengers on lower berth. I felt uneasy, suffocated and quickly rushed towards the door. The air outside was fresh and playfully caressed my hair.

The train gathers speed, jumps on the fishplates, the metal clinks making your body rock with its rhythms. Before you blink, every object flickers and disappears in oblivion. The concrete abutments of the tunnels looked claustrophobic and the electric poles outside, eager to steal a kiss. The train gradually ascends and quickly descends over the different contours. The light from the train makes it possible to see the train pass through tunnels, forests and fields. The tracks conveniently bent, push the bogeys away from the line of tracks and present a stunning silhouette of train.

The horizon seems within grasp and above hundreds of stars shine brightly, hovering like little lamps. The stars move in clusters, often alone and so does the train and earth, creating a greater parallax. Carl Sagan’s words echoes, “Every star may be a Sun to someone. Certain stars rise just before or set just after the Sun – and at times and positions that vary with the seasons.” In Mumbai, where the sky is typically sombrous, hazed with petrol and industrial pollution, seldom do we witness such celestial spectacles.

I was feeling sleepy; it was Sunday 04:45 a.m. The train forcefully jerked out of Kankavali station and I was awake. It was 7: 30 a.m., in next one hour we will disembark and hop into a waiting SUMO, hired to take us around Konkan, but first to our hotel.

Cont…..Day 2

Day 2 - Gori Tera Gaon Bada Pyaraa...

The air in Kudal was warm, refreshing and nostalgic. Kudal is one of the oldest settlements, further south of Ratnagiri and 3 hours away from Goa. Anand and Sonali had flown from Bangalore via Goa and checked in the hotel around 11 a.m. Soon we commenced our journey to Wayangani, (Vrushali’s native place), an hour away from Kudal. We reached Wayangani and visited a shrine near my in-laws ancestral house. The temple was built in memory of a certain Swami who had renounced his life, decades ago at the same place. The small temple is well maintained and has two sections. The outer area comfortably accommodates 10-15 devotees, the area inside has the footprints of reverend Swami engraved on marble tile, bedecked with flowers and surrounded with small oil lamps. Near the temple were several mango, jambhul and jack fruits trees protecting us from the blazing mid-afternoon sun, their shade symbolizing hope, relief and for city dwellers - a sight for sore eyes!

From Wayangani, we proceeded to Malvan. The road is laid with fresh bitumen and surrounded on either side by sign posts, electric poles, milestones and trees. Throughout the journey, the sun played hide and seek with the trees. Every now and then we passed through small settlements. Tulsi plant stood tall in beautiful vrindavan against traditional red laterite (Jambha) stone house with thatched sloping roofs. The porch looked clean, its flooring, a mixture of mud, sand and dried cow dung. In some places, gaudily painted concrete bungalows cropped up.

In the plantations behind, men toiled, while women flocked near the well. Women were draped in sarees, the length of fabric (6 or 9 yards) defining their modernity and age. The ladies adorned beautiful gajra (garland) made from jasmine or other flowers in their braided hair. The older women prefer “Veni” (a semi-circle shaped, closely knit garland made with flowers and petals). Their long tresses, delicately rolled behind, and on the top of this roll; the Veni is hinged with specially made ‘U’ shaped hair pins. People are devout, literate, and modest but their resilience and spirit indomitable. Dogs barked while cows and goats grazed lazily. The fields slumbered in light green and stretched till brown horizon, their flatness broken by laterite contours and dusty path.

We reached Malvan and rushed to Hotel Chaitanya, a well known restaurant in town. A treat on typical Malvani fish curry and solkadhi (concoction made of kokum and coconut milk) was eagerly awaited. The restaurant was full and we waited till what seemed like eternity. Once inside the air-conditioned section, we gormandize on kingfish, pomfret, prawns and other culinary treats.

The hotel is cleverly constructed. It houses a small, beautiful well inside the air conditioned section. The well reminded me of my late paternal granny and the big well located in the compound of her house in Borivali (Babhai area). In those days, Borivali west had dense trees and limited houses. As a child, I would not miss a single opportunity to run near a big well and watch the tadpoles and fish in the well. The green water surrounded by trees gave me peace. I would look down, throw pebbles, hear the splash and enjoy the turbulent concentric circles. Often I would scream and my voice would echo. In a minute my granny and the entire locality would be on their feet to catch me and for the next few hours I would remain under house arrest.

Cont…

Afternoon – Tarkarli, Symphony of the Sea & Venus

After our fabulous lunch, we visited Malvan jetty. The magnificent Sindhudurg (Ocean fort) built in 1664 by Chattrapati Shivaji on an island was not far. The fort is built with tonnes of iron and the foundation stones are laid down firmly in lead. But we were lazy and decided to skip visiting the fort, and proceeded to Tarkarli – 8 kms from Malvan.

On our way, we visited the local Ganesh Temple at Meda built by Jayant Salgaonkar –editor of Kalnirnaya magazine. The architecture of the temple painted in white is remarkably striking. The Deep-stambh (tower for lamps), reminiscent of temples in south of Vindhyas, interspersed with white and red square is massive and fabulous. At the entrance, two huge statutes of elephants greet devotees. The shining Lord Ganesh idol made of gold is mesmerizing. The circular overhead ceiling, covered by a dome is painted in red and within it small light blue coloured statues of Ganesha are entrenched on all sides.

We reached Tarkarli which has a lovely estuary and a ride in the boat is not to be missed. There are several resorts and MTDC even has its own boat house. There are many private boats. These motor boats are equipped with 8-10 plastic chairs, covered with make shift cloth roof but life vests. Unlike Alleypee, the back water at Malvan is fresh, clean, devoid of foul odour and reefs. The boat takes you through the calm water, surrounded on either sides with palm groves and mango trees. From the boat, Devbaugh village looks small, further down is the pristine Devbaugh beach, on the left is a small hill and below is the serene Bhogwe beach. You soon reach a point where the river meets the sea and the boat encounters some resistance.

The deep sea is utterly unpredictable, beguiling, bewitching and dangerous. The boat gently enters the choppy Arabian Sea and suddenly you are on a giant see-saw. You sit tight, mutter some prayers and quickly hold on to your breath, nerves and the railings. Quixotically the engine overpowers, the rudder spins and the boat enters the deep sea. A spectacular light house is seen in south– west and a massive boulder aims for the sky in north-west. The Sun at 45 degrees is majestically smiling. The water glistens as the sparkling golden bed sheet stretches from the horizon and touches our boat.

Suddenly, the boat man sees some movement, and turns the boat towards Devbaugh beach. You see flock of sea gulls, squeaking, flapping their wings. A young Jonathon Livingstone is enjoying its flight of fancy. Soon you hear a noise; a small fountain erupts in sea and before you turn, it disappears. The fountain erupts again, this time little further and in the next instance, a beautiful dolphin jumps with joy. It is joined by his/her playmate and together they jump, swim, jump, swim and hide.

”Look, there are more”. You swirl and another group of Dolphins emerge, enjoying their freedom. The abyss is transparent and a group of small local fish (Tarli) touches our boat, treading fearlessly in the direction of dolphins, ready to feast. Normally the dolphins are seen in the morning but we were fortunate to see them playing in the late afternoon (around 4: 30 p.m.).

It was more than an hour; we were still observing different marine lives and the topography. The waves became stronger. Our boat turned but not before stopping at a small Tsunami island formed by a large mass of firm sand. According to locals, the island emerged when tsunami hit the Indian Ocean. Anand and I couldn’t resist; we quickly dived into the clear saline water and swam till our legs ached.

It was past 6:30 p.m. The birds stopped their chirping and the crickets began to sing in synchrony. Driving down the picturesque Malvan – Vengurla Sea facing road, the sun submerged with its resplendent ochres, orange, browns and indigos. In the darkness, we missed the view from Karli Bridge - the enchanting confluence of the Karli River meeting Karli creek that flows into the sea. The water banks here are covered with verdant forest, reminiscent of Kerala. I remembered seeing it many years ago.

The stars waltz and in the south west, the greatest dichotomy in our solar system emerged. Venus with its faint yellowish clouds was perched over the hill. Anand and I got engrossed in talking about Venus and our solar system. A pleasant breeze tangoed with the hill and on Venus the surface boiled with vapors and clouds made of concentric H2SO4 (Sulphuric acid) and 96 % of atmosphere made of CO2 (Carbon Dioxide). Unlike other planets, Venus moved in opposite direction making the sun rise in west and set in east. Isn’t it surprising that Venus is considered as God of Love when actually it is nothing less than a catastrophe.

On our return journey we stopped briefly at Dhombi Math a place where young boys are trained to become priest. My reluctance to visit another religious site on a wonderful evening was conspicuous and conveniently ignored. This place has a wonderful architecture and temple reverberated with Vedic chants of shlokas from these young priests. I spend more time outside with Venus and the other stars, who would accompany me to the Adinarayan Temple at Parule. Boy was I glad, the temple was closed.

Cont...

Day 3 - Banana Leaf & Spiritual Odyssey

The puja was scheduled on the auspicious day of Mahashivaratri at Lord Purshottam Temple in Parule village – 45 minutes from Kudal. According to Hindu mythology, Shivaratri or ’Shiva’s Great Night’ symbolises the wedding day of Lord Shiva and Parvati. Many also believe that Shivaratri is the night when Lord Shiva performed the Tandava Nritya - the dance of primordial creation, preservation and destruction. The temples in Konkan region organize fair (Jatra) on Mahashivratri and the festivities continue for 10 days. This was my maiden visit to any such jatra.

The SUMO hopped as it ascended a small hillock. Once atop, we could see a small valley engulfed with creepers, plantation and a stream running through it. Inside the valley stood a fabulous temple renovated with paint and tiles. Behind the temple were houses and the serene village of Parule. Typically in India, most temples require devotees to climb mountains and stairs. But here it was different and so is the Kamakshi Temple at Shiroda – Ponda, Goa. You descend the newly made concrete stairs that connects the valley and hilltop. You enter the temple precincts, the sound of dried leaves and twigs falling in the running stream appear melodious.

Inside the temple was a mélange of people in colourful clothes. The air smelt of divinity and a keertan (devotional story telling session accompanied with music and singing) was about to commence. It was pleasing to hear the interpretation of some Sanskrit couplets but that joy was short lived. Anand and I were asked to join the priest and perform the pooja. We were soon engrossed in worshipping and appeasing the Almighty with prayers, flowers, leaf, oil lamps and invoking his blessings.

Sitting down amongst rows of people and eating lunch being served by local villagers was absolute bliss. Eating from banana leaf is altogether a different and pleasurable experience. The fingers touch the silky leaf, the curries run in all directions; you desperately try and stop it from mixing with pickle, salads and chutney garnished with coconut and green chillies.

It was too early to taste the king of fruits, Alphonso Mango, jack fruit, purple jamun and such other fruits. Throughout the day cashewnuts, Aambaa (Mango) Poli, Jack fruit (Phanas) Poli, Kokum (sour fruit) and Aawla Syrup, Aawla supari were delightfully gormandized.

By 4 p.m. we were back to Kudal resting in our hotel room. That evening we had dinner at a local mess run by local residents. The food served at these places is fresh, hygienic, authentic and the prices very reasonable. The ladies cook in their home while the men take orders and serve food; the patrons sit outside in specially made eating area. The spices- cinnamon, turmeric, cloves, poppy seeds, peppercorns, ginger, cumin, garlic, onion, green chillies, kokum, raw mango seeds used in curry added to the flavour. The vegetables are prepared with grated coconut and seasoned with onion, ginger and garlic.

If the Bengalis delight on the 2 feet long Rui fish, then Mangloreans, Karwari’s, Goans, Konkani’s and Mumbaikars thrive on much longer Surmai (King Fish). And in Konkan and Goa, the king fish is available in abundance and so are the other fish – white and black pomfret, mackerel, sardine, salmon, mullet, skate, crab, prawns and lobsters. The food in Konkan and Goa is delightfully rich, tasty and finger smacking.

Cont…

Day 4 - Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo !

Anand and Sonali were leaving for Banglore via Goa. Vrushali and I joined them for we had planned to visit the Kamakshi Temple at Shiroda – Ponda, Goa. On our way to Goa, we passed through Sawantwadi a place where royalty ruled. Later we passed, ‘Kolgaon’ a small village which gave my ancestors our family name. Soon the lullaby wind had me dozing only to wake me up at Mapsua in Goa. In another 30 minutes we will reach Panjim.

Panjim was hot and humid, interspersed with the dull recessionary air and the rapidly declining international tourism. From there we hired a cab and travelled to south Goa. We reached the temple, offered our prayers and quickly returned to Panjim before 3 p.m. The famous Ritz Classic at Panjim closes at 3 p.m. This is one of the best places where you can enjoy a chilled beer and authentic Goan fish. The other one is Martin’s corner in south Goa. As usual Ritz was crowded with tourist, locals and nearby office staff. In few minutes, we managed to get a nice cosy place and ordered our routine fish thali (plate). Apart from getting fresh, delicious and large portion of fish, you are also served with different varieties of fish and curries in small quantities. Unfortunately we didn’t have time to relish pork sarpotal, chicken xacutti and the famous delectable Goan dessert - Bibinca a sweet cake baked from the mixture of flour, jaggery and eggs. We were on our way back to Kudal.

The next day our train will depart to Mumbai and we will join the rigmarole of office grind. By the time we reached our hotel, the stars had begun to gather. There was silence in the air.

The stars smiled and reminded me of the Farida Khanum’s immortal ghazal,

Waqt ki qaid mein, zindagi hai magar (2)
Chand ghadiyan yehi hain, jo aazad hain (2)
Inko khokar, mere jaan-e-jaan
Umr bhar, na taraste raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to loot jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo