Kerala Bhraman- Into The Realm

The Bamboo Raft was a success! Go on to Kerala Bhraman- The Bamboo Raft to see what happened. 


"Hi! What is your name?" My guide spoke for the first time in a long time.

"Hello! I am Wreek. What is yours?"

"Ravi."
"Cool! My pet name is Ravi."

"Oh! Same name huh! Are you from Bangalore?"

This added to my resume the number of ethnicity I can represent apart from Bengali. They were Madrasi, Punjabi, Marathi and now, Kannadiga! We truly seem to be someone else but ourselves!

"No, I am from Gujarat but I am Bengali." I replied finally.

As we walked by the bank I saw the boats set sail. The three boats sped past us and sent waves hitting the shore. The sky was leaking and the grass was wet, making our each step sound like chup, chup.

"Now we will go inside." Said Ravi.

Saying this he moved further making way as I laid my eyes onto the leafy gateway and the darkness beyond. They looked so different so close. I was about to experience something barely visible when you are far in the lake on a moving boat.

Small black Trivandrum frogs hopped around our legs at our footfall, their backs embellished by a single thick arc of gold.

"Rana carpus." The last of its kind. Pointed out Ravi at the slender creatures nestling in the wet grass.       

We walked into the forest through a narrow pathway that stood out form the rest of the forest floor. Such tracks were ubiquitous in a forest to keep you out of the way of wild animals. They offered the frequently taken path, evidently the path that gave more chance to spot more animals.

I followed my companion along the path to a place where there were only trees around. The foliage above posed like an awning and permitted very little sunlight.

Interestingly, that day was cloudy and the sun hadn’t come out for hours. The path before us took a right turn. My eyes grazed along the paths direction when they fell upon two wild boars running away from us deeper into the jungle.

We turned as the path turned and the boars disappeared. The trees, so austere cast a stern look at us, their branches looked like hands trying to get hold of our legs. I stopped to look beside me only to be greeted by the vast shrubbery cloaking the view of the lake beyond.

I kept my eyes wide open and walked raptly as carelessness would be foolishness in a forest which is far from the ways of men.

We may not see them. But they do. A constant reminder that sent shivers down my spine.

Even a trained man like Ravi had to be cautious as he had the responsibility of a pack of tourists.

He led the way, constantly dodging cobwebs and skipping fallen logs.

The forest floor inside was brown from the rain and strewn with dried leaves and uprooted trees. Bugs crawled here and there as we walked down the path. Spiders took a liking to Ravi’s shirt and dangled from its sleeves.

We were nearing to the end of the path before it turned once again. This time towards the left.

Katt- Katt- Katt. A strange sound pierced the dense vegetation and went straight for the eardrums.

What is that? I asked Ravi as the faceless sound persisted.

"Malayanan". Ravi replied instinctively and then turned his gaze towards the tree tops, skimming through the branches. Then suddenly, as if struck by surprise, he yanked me towards him and pointed upwards. I followed his finger and squinted at the dense branches above when I saw what Ravi had spotted.

Giant Indian Squirrel

Up on a branch, firmly perched and emitting the strange sound was a Giant Indian Squirrel. Hazel brown in color and its body summed up to the size of a small stray dog. As I enjoyed the magnificent rodent, my thoughts lingered to my home where the squirrels are tiny and cute. Whereas, the Malabar Squirrel was far from cute. They could be pretty intimidating for the beings smaller than them. Its call could crash in the middle of the night causing ones hair to rise.

  

My attention was robbed by a loud whizzing sound similar to that of a helicopter taking off; only slower.

What is that? I shrugged.

Great Indian Hornbill. Ravi replied promptly. He shot his customary glances upwards at the marred patches of sky to get a sight of the bird. The whizzing sound only faded. With no luck at the hornbill, Ravi assured me of sighting one anytime soon in our journey. So we continued down the track.

We had been walking on the track uninterrupted by turns and the amount of shrubbery increased with every meter. Some trees had long tentacle- like climbers hanging down from their bodies. Ravi claimed that some of those trees were around twenty years old.

We were lifting our legs high above while walking to avoid leeches or other bugs. As I followed Ravi, our heads down looking where we kept our foot, I seldom craned my neck to see the intense maze we were venturing into.

At times of crisis like unusual “god forbidden” encounters when fleeing is the only choice, the cover could be a potential illusion. One false turn and your world could turn upside down!

My next question to my partner, only seemed obvious.

“Have you ever spotted a tiger in your walks?”

Hearing the name, Ravi had halted. Anyone would have. He looked blankly around him, his eyeballs running sideways trying to recollect past memories. As a final reply, he simply nodded his head in denial.

“… Not very easy. Very rare.” He said, his lower lip bulging and arching downwards.

I was relieved by the revelation and set out a virtual sigh as Ravi continued.

“They live very deep in forest. In a small area.”

I had heard similar statements regarding tigers on popular shows on Animal Planet and National Geographic Channel so I was pleased to get a consistent view.

I kept dashing my head in every direction nonetheless.

A left turn awaited us a few meters ahead. The turn would take us out of the green room we were walking through for so long. And so it did.  Ravi motioned me towards the ending after showing me a mahogany tree whose trunk had an uncanny resemblance to King Cobra.

Outside was a narrow stream and supposedly the spot where Bison quenched their thirst. We could make it out from the impressions of innumerable hooves in the wet mud on the bank of the stream. We walked by the rippling stream, basking in the warm sunlight after a long time.

Following the downstream would possibly take us to the Lake where the boats were but that wasn’t the intention of our trip. I sensed somehow that we might soon trail back into the cover and so enjoyed every moment in the sun.

As we walked, the distant expanse of the lake was becoming visible. Motionless and lifeless. The boats weren’t there, perhaps they had already crossed that portion and had made the turn at the place where the hills began.

The sleeping man, breathing and his hair staggering with the wind. 

I could see the slight figure of the Nilgiri. Bleak and blue.

The sun was getting clad by the wisps of clouds every now and then and the water body grew dimmer by the minute while the stark hills imposed majestically. A soft and moist breeze brushed the grass and collided with the trees, making them shiver as they let out a long hiss by impulse.

The ecosystem was coming to life in front of our eyes, presenting a merriment because of the incumbent rain. I couldn’t fight the temptation of clicking pictures.

Ravi waited, vigilantly as his eyes grazed in every direction skimming the horizon and the forest green.       

“Let’s go!” He motioned me towards him. We began walking once again, this time away from the lake and the stream altogether. We were approaching a small rocky clearing when I saw Ravi spread his hands and walk rapidly to a nearby boulder. He climbed upon it and stared down at something intently before gesturing me to do likewise.

I soon caught up and looked wide eyed at the spectacle. Right at our feet as if on display was the skull of a Bison. Its hollow eyes pitch dark and the bone completely bare and dry. Its towering horns were intact.

Cool! I mused and Ravi grinned.

Then he picked up the litter by the horn and hopped down the rock. I quickly followed.

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked curiously.

“Let’s see.” Ravi replied, unsure himself.

I eyed the skull. What beast could have preyed upon it? The carnivores I knew that dwelt inside the forest were the Dholes and the Tiger. Could a tiger have loitered out in the open in search for food? The question was unnerving and I think Ravi sensed the doubt because he quickly put the thought away by accusing the Dholes for killing the bison.

“A pack of dholes can be very dangerous.” He said and moved along for the further journey.