Today has been one of the most memorable days of my life. A day memorable for the various diverse, fine and prosperous shower of rich emotions that I faced today, a day memorable because of the heavy dose of beauty and romance that I came across, a day memorable because of the knighthood we experienced while riding through the tempests of the monsoon-fed Sahyadris, a day memorable because of the heavy smells of paddy fields, a day memorable for the lush green drizzled by the humid cloud, and a day memorable because of the ever wet footwear through the swampy foothills and undergrowth all over the place. A place memorable enough because of the oozing emotions of a vulnerable poet, and a day memorable because of the silent sorrows of our upcoming graduation and departing, a day memorable because of the warmth of our transitional youth, a day significant of our last few of the crazy wild days, a day simply dosed with the heart of a child and the heroism of a knight, a day memorable because of its close association with my dearest Belgaum, a day memorably spent with my dearest friends who have decorated the festival of my youth, a day simply memorable, memorable a thousand fold, .............. Memorable, memorable!!
We all silently stood there, before my friend's house planning our decisions, which oscillated continuously between Amboli and Sural.
Since I had been to Amboli several times, I was forced to agree with Sural and there we all left for Sural. We filled enough petrol for our travel and also seeked for lord Ganesha's blessings before we finally left for Sural.
Our vehicles humming one before the other slowly began the majestic journey towards the place. Every time we missed each other, we used to wait for a while till the vehicles all came together again, and while we stopped on the way, we could feel the heavy haunt of silence in the midst of the jungle. Jungles, jungles, they were simply thick ones, thick enough. Trees and all vegetation simply appeared invading into the narrow pavements through which we made our way into the forest. The land beneath the trees was fully swampy and covered by a thick layer of shed leaves and other droppings. The forests seemed thick and dark and all the while, it rained mildly, the dark logs of wood all seemed chocolate wet, covered by a fluorescent green of ferns and mosses, with all the stems chained with climbers. Prop roots hung long at every little distance, decorating the place more. This beauty of the forest was crowned by the shrill and deep chirpings of birds and the Mowgli swings of the red langoors. I had never even for a moment ever pondered that just a couple of hour's ride from my backyard I had such a fair jungle to divulge into. I can always say that I have felt the real jungle. For a moment I was even thinking of the life of the people who lived there at that place, the life so close to nature, into the cradle of wilderness and the embrace of purity. No pollution, no industry, no vehicles, no corruption. I still cherish the enthusiasm of those innocent warriors. Hats-off!
For a keen observer there are immense factors that define things still clearly. The lifestyle of people is so very interesting. The way they have evolved a lifestyle so close to the wild is really a cherish able fact on the face of this earth. The villages actually may be referred to as hamlets, showing themselves afresh, deep within the jungles green. The villages at a distance are surrounded by fields, mostly paddy fields, planted in small plots, in nexus with the terrace form of agriculture. People here totally, rely upon such agriculture for their sustenance and it is all the grace of the rain Gods that all this beauty stands firm. People seem real workaholics, with even the ploughing being done manually at several sites on our way. They really work to reap the fruits, and a still special thing is the simplicity in the language and appearance. We, who had worn only rain jackets, were forced to become skeptic about our travel etiquette after looking at their simplicity and down to earth statement. These places being lined on the Goa-Karnataka border, in the Khanapur district close to Goa, in the outskirts of the province, we see that the chief language is Konkani, although, they still play it fairly with some good Marathi and broken Kannada. Konkani the name itself being derived from the Konkan belt of Sahyadris near the west coast of the Indian Deccan plateau peninsula is a largely spoken dialect resembling phonetically as well as linguistically to the language of Marathi. We knew all the three languages well, and so, could manage easily with all the people, at all the places during those sweet encounters. O! I wish I were born among them, in that wild, so that I would solve Physics problems on projectile motion by shooting stones into the trees around my house. But alas, we are all prisoners of the city, shame upon us. Still it’s complete to say that the religious air at every hamlet enkindled within us a light of spirituality, with every God or Goddess standing tall on every other beautiful hill, standing lofty besides these romantic settlements. This is the beauty of my India; there is the worship alive in even the remotest of the places of this deciduous ecosystem. The structure and presence of these temples in those dark dungeoneous forests marked the analogy between the exploring of the jungles, and the spiritual journey of man from the shining material wonders of the world to the unperturbed peaceful soul, that rules the inside of everything. For a spiritual person, there isn't any better stimulation than this in a nearer ride. Simply loved the travel. To feel the completeness of such a beautiful life is such a satisfaction! Thank God once again for the day! Thank you!
The feel of the non-stop showers and drizzles, made the journey still mesmerizing. We rode through the forests for a good length of time, when finally my friend came to know that we had missed the road somewhere. Actually we had gone past the village of Sural almost for 6-7 km, and so it was now time to go back for our search of this village of Sural. We rode back and came to a spot where the road split into two. But thanks for the mistakes; we found some really wild scenes, of which I’ll always remember a bridge where on one side the hills ascended for hundreds of feet, while on the other side they descended horribly abruptly in the deep and dark valley. That was the spot where we got the best photos of our travel. I'll always cherish our stay at that spot, it was simply fabulous.
Soon after we found our way through the split roads, we found a fast river flowing downstream, past which, after a ride for a couple of kilometers, we found a small village. It was Sural.
It was about 2:45 pm when we began our ride past Sural, constantly uphill, and during our ascent, we never even had the faintest idea that we had climbed to such a height. “Where’re we heading? Where?” was my repeated question to which my friend replied………. “Just keep going till the dead end of this road.” I was really afraid of the word “dead”-end and I proceeded slowly. Finally, we parked our bikes at a spot which seemed to be the top of a hill. I wondered with suspicion as to what was the place all about, and slowly followed my friends. When the place actually arrived, all I could see was something that was deep and seemed nothing. It was all clouds from top to bottom. I held my camera down, and really tagged that spot as boring. “Where have we come? It’s a spot worth no expectations”. I said to my friend “this is in no comparison with the heaven called Amboli”, and he gave me a teasing smile……..
Suddenly one of my friends exclaimed… “Lo! I can spot a waterfall there!” and I just turned to give a glance... Wonder! I was shocked. The milky clouds slowly swept apart and I was gifted with a panoramic view of a deep, jet green sweeping valley. What seemed to be a bush of clouds now was, in moments transformed to a deep valley, thousands of meters deep, and stretching several kilometers across. The clouds still swept away, and at the sight of a beautiful waterfall, all that I could do was go on screaming, to resonate with the roar of the waterfall that produced a vibration in the air all over. The vastness of the deep valley was too much for a tiny human. Two eyes seemed so incapable of capturing this vastness that God had bestowed upon his creations. “Mother Nature, there isn’t anything like you!”
I was now happy for our ride through all the tall hills had finally rewarded us so majestically. But it was now 3:15 pm, and we’re all hungry. So we shared some Tiffin with friends and quickly went downhill and reached the main road, where we found a small hotel in the village, on the roadside, the view of that hotel being extremely dramatic. A hotel, a road, a huge paddy plantation, a small cottage, with a red-wood fencing backed by a lofty green mountain standing tall and proud. It wouldn’t be fair on my part if I refrain from saying telling the fact that smooth clouds brushed through our feet , so lowly, slowly….. We were tempted so much that we took so many snaps there.
The rain, the tea, the wooden seating arrangement, the cottage-like hotel, the roof red tiled, the tasty food, the hen and her chicken playing under our dining table, the sweet smell of the king jackfruits and the heap of pinkish ripe pineapples all made a mark on my mind. They redefined my idea of beauty. The villagers, as ever, presented themselves with more courtesy than we the travelers. A couple of snaps more in the hotel and the cottage, and we bought the pineapples to carry home. Will I ever forget that lovely evening……?……. No chance! We really felt so bad as we bid adieu to that beautiful basket of Mother Nature that our speed of riding had abruptly dropped down. In our ride back home, we stepped down at a place called “Kankumbi”, where exist the birth-springs of the two rivers of “Malaprabha” and “Mahadayi”.
We parked our bikes beside the syndicate bank there, and to our surprise we found our friend’s father as the manager there. He gave us a warm welcome and a tasty treat, which was really so kind of him. He guided us all to the Mahuli Devi temple followed by the “Ugama-sthana” of the two rivers. We went to the temple and parked our bikes, and then, we met a villager. He accompanied us with all the history and importance of the place and also shed his grief on the dam being built in his village, which would pose a threat to this bio-diversity hot-spot. We then walked through the paddy fields over a distance to reach the birth springs of the rivers. We were advised to carry tobacco and soda lime with us, because it was a place that housed a number of blood-sucking leeches, and so we’re warned against walking barefoot or in swamps. The thriller of the blood-sucking leeches added to our adventure. The heavy dose of beauty compelled one of my friends to speak harshly against the information age and the growing IT culture. He tends to become too much swadeshi at times. Me too became a bit emotional in that atmosphere and felt the fragrance of my motherland flow through those lush green paddy fields of the vales.
A few more photos and the gala-day celebrations slowly came to adieu. We could revise the lessons that we had read while we made our way through that wild, and meanwhile, my friends had a tyre puncture, which made us all experience some more adventure, on the selfsame day, all the while, as the evening dark slowly marched over the diminishing day. It was his scooter, that had a good stephanie, as the preparation against a rainy day, and so we kept the smiles on our faces. The showers intensified as we approached our town, and after a small ride again, we were back to pavilion.
We then planned for a small repast at the nearest hotel, and so we all, still dressed up as travelers, entered the nearest Popeye’s edifice, and savored some Manchurian and rice. As we were parting for home, a friend said, “Look at that, a leech!”, and we all suddenly frightened with shock, looked down at our pants, and examining our shoes we stared with a narrow eye. Then we again looked at each other with a question mark in our eyes, and silently we stood there …….. And suddenly burst into a laughter!!!
It was the day, O I loved it!
Sushant Kulkarni
1 comment:
Beautiful!!!! When I read it seems to me to be there. I imagined those beautiful places. It must have been fantastic, really. Thanks to share it generously.
Aïda.
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