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A trip into a jungle.

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I have often had the experience of hunting  for something very important or valuable all over the place, only to find that it was sitting just there, under my nose, all the time. You end up wondering why you had not even thought about starting your search there! This was exactly what I felt when I visited the Bhadra wildlife sanctuary.

the entry to the forest
the entry to the forest

Just about 32 kms from where I live (in Shimoga), nestled amid the Western Ghats,is the Bhadra wildlife Reserve, which gets its name from the river Bhadra, which feeds the jungle. It is accessible through a government jungle lodge, a breed which is getting popular for people who want to gel with nature, alongside basic but necessary amenities.It is now a popular weekend getaway, with the added attraction of water sports like banana boating, water trampoline and kayaking which was what made us venture there in the first place.

I have been to the resort many a times with friends of ours, to have a lazy lunch after a frenzied session of romping in the water with kids and hence, would have no time or energy to indulge in a safari on a hot afternoon.Luckily for me, last week, I was booked into the safari inadvertently, because my daughter refused to go without me. I climbed into the safari jeep cribbing at first, but by the end of it, I was so serenely, blissfully happy that I have made return plans ASAP.

Bhadra jungle reservoir lies on the border between the districts of Shimoga and Chikamagalur. It has a large water reservoir as a part of it and has been declared as a Project Tiger Reserve since 1998. The actual jungle is situated about 4 kms from the River Tern Jungle Lodge, which is named after the terns which throng the place for breeding. As the jungle is a part of the Western Ghats, there is an amazing amount of bio diversity.I can safely claim that I have never seen so many trees, animals, birds and insects ever in my life in a short span of two hours, apart from in a zoo!

The jungle is lush, green and so very silent apart from the incessant creaks of some insects interrupted by a burst of chatter by the monkeys. Trees are so densely packed, that  sunlight seems to be struggling to make its way through. And then suddenly there is a huge meadow in between left behind by the receding waters of the reservoir, where we sight upon a large herd of spotted deer.

a huge herd of spotted deer
a huge herd of spotted deer

Though we saw no tigers or elephants( I am told that you usually see the elephants  coming in herds of 60 to 80 all at once to drink water early in the morning-what a grand sight that must be!), we had our hearts fill with a hoard of smaller, unexpectedly cute, strange and interesting animals.Whenever I used to read in the papers that the western ghats were a hot spot of biodiversity, and home to thousands of species of animals, I used to be skeptical. A lot of what I saw of the ghats were of the road side view,when I traveled. Now, I know that human habitation and intrusion probably makes the animals decide to venture backwards into the heart of the forest, which again offers little solace as trees are being felled indiscriminately! I wish all of you people could come and have a look at the magnificence of nature, so we could protect it all before it is too late!

two huge gaurs looking at us
two huge gaurs looking serenely at us

We saw tree snakes aplenty, slimy, bright green and thin, but were too scared to click snaps when we saw them up close and personal! Spotted deer, giant red squirrels, serpent eagles, spotted owls, peacocks, marsh crocodiles, monitor lizards, langurs, and a wide variety of birds of all colors, supremely unperturbed and oblivious to our curious gaze  and hushed cries of excitement when we spotted them. It was nice to see that the animals seemed to be unafraid of our intrusion. We were glad to feel accepted by them.

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can you spot a camouflaged monitor lizard on the log of wood?
can you spot a camouflaged monitor lizard on the log of wood?

Some important facts you should know before you get there:

  1. It is about 300 kms from Bangalore by road.
  2. The lodge has no television, so if you bring kids along, get something to keep them occupied.
  3. Be careful as you can see snakes often all over, apparently most being non poisonous. This is not to scare you, but so you can get rid of your phobia before you visit!
  4. Information regarding the place is available on the internet.

Must see, must visit- definitely a worthy trip into the jungle!

Memories of kashmir.

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Every time I visit a new place, there are a few things about it that I end up storing away between the folds of my brain. These memories are unique, customized and last me forever. There may be things which everyone remembers, important monuments  which I may forget, but these special memories stay with me and make my experience unique. Thanks to digital cameras, (the old ones meant that I lost quite a lost of my pictures because of over or under exposure) and now smart phone cams, most of what I want to retain comes easier to me. Kashmir gave me many such favorite moments which I wanted to share.

A few of the photographs have been borrowed from our friend Dr. Deepak, courtesy a better camera to capture the same scene as compared to my phone cam.

1.This photograph was taken early in the morning from our houseboat on the first day of our trip. It was a cold chilly day, and we saw this couple start their day of work as usual. They seemed oblivious to the scenery around them, concentrating steadfastly on their work of fishing. They worked in harmony, no words needed. The mountains in the back, the bluish light of dawn and still waters made for a beautiful click.

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  1. On the way to Pehelgaum, we spotted a roadside stream and stopped for a photo shoot. There were some girls from nearby villages watching us curiously. We were reluctant to approach them at first, wondering how they would react. Finally when we did ask them, they were really excited and did an entire photo shoot with us! I love the smile on the first girl’s face. Such happiness!
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  1. This was a lovely sunset at Nishatbag, Srinagar. All of us tired after a long day. We were supposed to go to a Kashmiri friend’s home for dinner. There was a little bit of unease owing to the fact that, the area we were venturing into was a little unsafe, within the old city of Srinagar. Most of us were worried, but had no energy to think of an alternative. So we just sat and stared. And then came across such a lovely sunset,that it left me spell bound.
  2. Well, the old city did come across as a scary place. There were no street lights, small gullies, houses packed against each other, and an eerie silence. There were broken down dust coated maruti cars, old scooters and small joints where boys stood smoking cigarettes and staring at people passing by. But, on the plus side, we got to see an authentic kashmiri house, which is so different from the ones we live in. There are huge completely opaque gates in front of every house. There are innumerable neat glass windows, but all are firmly shut.Even if a few of them are, they hide the innards of the house with gossamer thin lace curtains from which you can see some partly hidden faces peering out! On the first floor of this house, there was a small kitchen cum bedroom. Then on, upstairs a room with a single light bulb and huge pillows to lean on to while sitting on the floor. The floors are made of wood and carpeted. Food is served on a mat, and we need to pick whatever we want sitting around it. But the food compensated for any fear that we might have experienced. Our hosts, in an attempt to make us feel comfortable told us that they had stopped eating non vegetarian fare three days ago, to prevent us from feeling uncomfortable when we ate from the same china! Though we had not even thought about this, we were touched that they had been so thoughtful and hospitable!Each dish was finger licking tasty and we felt royal washing our hands from a huge samovar (a kettle like apparatus made of silver).
  3. This photograph is my favorite. It looks like the snow is starting to form a wave and trying to move on. It almost seems alive to me.
  4. We trekked on to a mountain about 7000 feet above sea level at Sonmarg. We were out of breath, cold and out in the open with frozen nose tips.Though it was beautiful, there seemed to be a hidden element of danger lurking somewhere. A sudden thought came unbidden that if we were actually trapped on to this mountain with no one around, it would have been really scary. This was when, as if on cue, we happened to spot a small hut across the expanse of snow. Our guide informed us that it was both a mosque and a temple for people who had strayed to pray for their survival. Unfortunately it was closed, but the image stayed.
  5. This is a Chinar tree up close and personal. The leaves resemble maple trees and the color is a vibrant green belying the fact that the tree is at least 400 years old according to the board stuck on it. It feels so new and so old at the same time.
  6.  Kashmir is such a photographers paradise that you cannot help clicking away continuously. It is one place where you wish your eyes had inbuilt cameras to film what you saw continuously to remember for a later day. Choosing these few were a difficult task, so I hope you enjoy it and feel a little whiff of kashmir inside you:) 

The world remade.

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How would I remake the world?

The question makes me quiver with a strange kind of excitement. The anticipation of a power, handed to me on a platter. Like I am the most supreme, and that I have everything under my control. I can twist, tweak, mould and reshape what I want. Oh, what fun! But yes, also an enormous responsibility.

Is it not easy, I ask myself, with one sweep of a wand, to make everything peaceful and perfect? Then life would have no twists and turns, be one straight long road, and life would be one big party. There would be no need of a God to pray to, no police for want of protection, no religion for a feeling of belonging, no nations to feel patriotic about, no movements to fight against discrimination. Sounds so desirable, but is it practical?

The world was meant to be just the way it is. The imperfections, the injustices, the tyrannies of rule and mishaps. I believe that there is a purpose behind everything. And if there is chaos in this world, it is there to teach us something. To keep people moving forward, to mutate, to fit and to survive as evolution meant us to.

One single person in this world changing things would cause a feeling of dissatisfaction to a lot of others. Like a dictatorship. Because that is how we are made. Everything is relative. For every good, there is an evil; for every misfortune, there is a miracle; for every superstition, there is a rationalization and we all know that every human thinks in two radically different ways in any given situation.

If I try to make things better for one person, then I am bound to make someone else dissatisfied. Even terrorism seems to have another point of view, or it would not have survived this long!

So is everything hopeless? Is there nothing we can change? I believe that the change is something buried deep inside of us. This would be the place to target. For humans to understand that they are always not right, that every one step each one of us take can cause myriad ripples in multiple directions and so we must be careful. And that we should learn to care. About ourselves, our fellow beings, our environment and of things beyond that we do not understand as of now.

Caring, a lot of people believe can make us weak. The biggest decisions in this world were made with our heads rather than our hearts. But look where it put us. World wars, communism, the formation of countries, religion, the caste system, gender stereotyping, traditions – all of which were in the first place decided upon rationally to bring a semblance of normalcy to this world. But did they?

Therefore, I beg to differ. I feel that caring is the one thing which makes us strong, gives us foresight and wisdom to change what we can, fight when the need be and sometimes let go of things which cannot be changed. Every social evil, and environmental catastrophe that I can think of could have been changed if we had cared, rather than made-rules!

This I believe is the change the world deserves. So yes, if I could change one thing in this world, I would choose to inculcate the feeling, the thought and the attitude of ‘caring’ into every single soul living on this earth.

Then I would say, may the fittest survive.  This is my world remade.

This post is a part of a competition that I am participating in.

“I am participating in the #TheWorldRemade activity at BlogAdda in association with India Today #Conclave15 “

Hustling bustling vacations

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Post the holiday season and resolution making, life has got back to normal. Just a few days into this year, I am already craving and nostalgic for a holiday.

Travel has always been on my ‘most favorite to do’ lists. I have never been a victim of the horrible nausea that  people experience in the name of travel sickness, no queasiness over different kinds of food, ability to tolerate extended durations of ghaas phoos(raw or boiled veggies and greens- the only option available for vegetarians in a lot of countries abroad),no tiredness post travel and an ability to walk miles(a slight exaggeration) if something appeared interesting enough.  And a lot of my growing up years have been spent poring over magazines like National Geographic,Outlook Traveler etc. The most recent additions to the list have been blogs related to travelling ( the Wanderer, Laxmi Sharat’s blog) and various Instagram accounts. Luckily, my family is equally crazy about travelling, though their concept of the whole thing slightly (and I use the word with care)varied from what is shown in TLC and Nat Geo Life Style channels on TV.

Being a part of a large extended joint family,our travel plans almost always involved about a bus load of people of all ages, sizes, shapes and mindsets. The first hurdle was choosing  the place. It needed to be somewhere close but not too much, have something to interest everyone, include a few Indian meals at least and something which would suit everyone’s time frame.

Therefore, all trips involve a hectic pre trip workup, involving last minute renewal of passports, cancellations and additions in the number of passengers,continuous maddening calls to the travel agent to ask about inane things like how many extra beds would go in whose hotel rooms, to herding people together into the bus at the right time so we reach the airport before the plane flies. Somewhat akin to the first scene in the movie ‘Home Alone’. In all seriousness, I think our travel agent takes a break as soon as we board the flight!

This is followed by an activity filled, rushed “been there, done that” kind of a trip where we see everything at break neck speed (because we have to cater to tastes of everyone ranging from age three to seventy five!).

I have been a part of holidays like this since my childhood, so the concept of lazy,ambiance soaking vacations, where you stroll along the ocean hand in hand with your spouse, watch the sunset, go for a long swim impromptu, drink coffee from quaint little coffee shops over a book, discovering hole in the wall shops selling antiques and basically getting the flavor of the place, as is described in travel magazines, were concepts alien to me.

If at all, our holidays were like work outs- in one word, strenuous! You had to be up by six coz you had to share a bathroom and get ready by seven, so that you could stuff yourself up to your nostrils at the breakfast buffet (you see, most foreign tours would give you bed, breakfast and dinner as part of the tour, and you had to rely on yourself for lunch. Well, stuffing yourself was one way of making sure you stay full longer!) In the late 80s and early 90s, you were only allowed to take a limited number of dollars out of the country, and so these had to be stretched to accommodate our food and loads of shopping for all the people we left back home).

Once into the bus, we had the smaller kids often dozing off on long drives(thanks to waking earlier than during school times), to be woken up umpteen number of times whenever we landed at any given photo point.All the couples, bleary eyed kids and the group had to be photographed religiously in front of every monument, as if to assert to the whole wide world that we had been there(and done that)!

Afternoons were spent in the park or in the van, eating bread with a variety of assorted pickles and jams which would appear like magic from huge handbags of mothers and aunts. The drivers and our tour conductors would be our aunties and uncles for the duration of the trip. After visiting every single tourist point and museum, we would crash into bed late at night only to repeat the same next morning!

When I am writing this, the whole thing sounds so exhausting. Growing up, I used to vow to myself that when I plan, things would be different. We would go on trips where we could explore one small nook at a time, at leisure, taste the local cuisine, get to know every small alley of the place that we decided to visit. Somewhat like in ‘Eat, Pray and Love’.

But when when I did grow up and took over the planning, as though genetically, I migrated towards going with huge groups of people, and planned equally hectic trips, alternately whining about the rush and enjoying myself all at once.

Thinking back, travelling in a group was the most fun thing that has happened to me. There are always shared memories and jokes to remember, weird things that happened that would be included as family legends, and a sense of bonding which is difficult to disentangle. We learned to tolerate shortcomings and quirks with grace and grew up with the idea of sharing and caring. When we would go on trips, we would regularly see other groups like the Chinese, Japanese and Gujratis traveling like we did and feel normal.

Though I would not recommend such vacations for the faint hearted, writing this has made me itch for a busy, bustling, frantic vacation all over again!

Of death and discomfort..

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My nephew is undergoing  a small surgery. My logic understands that the surgery is very small with a hundred percent success rate. We know the surgeon and that he is very reliable and we have already planned his homecoming. But there is this strange feeling the whole day. And it bothers me. There’s a  tingling inside of my tummy, alongside a few mandatory butterflies, some strain in my shoulders, a sudden missed heart beat when I am in my OPD, a squeeze in the heart and a strange shiver along my spine when I think of tomorrow. Just the fact that he is undergoing something which is unnatural, increases my level of discomfort. How much ever my logical brain tries to convince itself, my emotions refuse to obey and remain subdued. It irritates me, makes me scared and wants me to delete the whole day and wake up tomorrow morning to find that it is all a dream.

In these terms,December this year, has been a month of such discomforts. Eventful, scary and sad. In the span of one month, I heard of about ten accidents back to back and lost quite a few near and dear ones in the process. Those who survived, are right now still in bad shape. A surgery scheduled in the midst of all this. And just when the dust seemed to have settled, the news of the senseless terrorist attacks in Peshawar!It sort of shook me and dragged the rug from right under my feet!

Here I am, trying to plan my future, our children’s education,my son’s birthday party and what to read this weekend when boom! You are no longer living! It sure is a scary thought. I know I am being morbid, which I should not be, as it is close to Christmas, and new year is just round the corner,blah, blah — but this whole week, thoughts of death and sickness have enveloped me. It was weird writing about this. I had never imagined in the wildest of my dreams that I would one day write about death and the like, but the more I thought, the more there seemed to be things which were queer about how we face death and sickness.

The first thought was: what exactly is it that makes you feel bad when someone suffers or dies?

Well, when you open the newspapers early in the morning, it is quite likely that you hear about at least four to five deaths. Murders, suicides, accidents, sometimes old age and ill health; the reasons are many, but a lot of them attain in death probably what they did not achieve in their lifetime- a mention! But have you ever wondered why it is that we feel bad only for a few people, and not for the rest? The answer, it seems, is a word called empathy. Empathy literally means putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes. I recently read an article in “The Week” about empathy which said that we end up feeling some sort of emotion only towards people who are similar to us in race, ethnicity, religion,education or situation! I was denying this fiercely in my mind, when I realized that I was actually doing what the article said! When I read, hear or see something bad happening to Indians, women, children, mothers, doctors etc.. I end up feeling a little more sadness and a state of understanding, than I do for everything and everyone else. I tried telling myself that I had felt really sad about Philip Hughes death, and so I am empathetic towards all! But when I rationalized, the sadness was more for his parents because they had lost a child and that loss was irreplaceable(this I can understand, because I am a mother!). I felt sad about the Malaysian Airlines tragedy a few months ago, but that was more distanced compassion and sympathy than an acute sense of grief! So you see, the article seemed to be right after all. Maybe to preserve our sanity and a sense of calm, our mind processes only what is similar to our lives and leaves the rest to a mild apathy! Try it on yourself. It is strange, but true.

The second is the aptness of reaction.

Quite a lot of times, professionally and personally, I have been in a slightly uncomfortable position of dealing with the aftermath of death. The consoling of the survivors. Sometimes, I have to go with the oft repeated ‘ It was for the best. He was suffering so badly. At least now he rests in peace’ to ‘ This was so unexpected. I can understand how you must be feeling’ and finally, when I feel most inadequate, just ‘I am so sorry’. But what ever it is that I say, I feel a sense of inadequacy, that I have somehow failed to do my job as a consoler well. I immediately end up thinking of the next few days – how dependent the survivor was on the deceased or vice versa, how their home will seem empty from now on, how photographs or familiar places will bring forth a barrage of memories and emotions –so on until I make myself miserable, and the discomfort becomes mine!

The worst was when I read about the terrorist attacks in Peshawar. I have never blanked out so badly. I really did not know how to react. Any of the dialogues I’m so used to made any sense in that situation. I crossed out emotions in my mind. Anger- no use; shame- I don’t know; sadness-woefully inadequate; fear- but for how long and where?. Basically, empathy failed me. But this horrible discomfort stayed. I could not be myself for the next three days. Then, time slowly eased me back into normalcy. Day by day, the weight on my shoulders and the tightness in my chest when I woke up in the morning eased. I started laughing more normally and became calmer about my children going to school. I used to feel that by consoling the relatives, I was helping them ease their suffering a little bit. But I realized that grieving often is a very lonely process. Kind words help, but do not lessen the grief. As time passes, and life goes on, we learn to live with it and start taking it for granted. That is when it stops hurting, but yet, it does not go away! So, a tight hug and holding on to a bad feeling inside of me,is probably the best way to react! It makes me feel that I am partly bearing the burden of their grief. It is not necessarily an overt, over the top reaction, but one that makes me feel that I have actually done my best.

I have finally made peace with the butterflies in my stomach and my nephew’s surgery. I accept the  discomfort and will hopefully understand it better.