Kerala Bhraman- The Trail Of The Elephants

If you missed the mesmerizing jungle walk up till now, walk to Kerala Bhraman- Into The Realm. 
Do keep watch! The maze of the evergreen trees could be treacherous.


Our aimless walk down the track was getting tiring because the road was long and we hadn’t come across any wildlife in the past thirty minutes.

We had witnessed a steaming quarrel between two Kattakodhis. Wild cocks, as Ravi had whispered to me from behind dense bushes. The birds chased each other as their crowns jerked viciously and their tails followed in a straight streak behind them. When they caught up, they jumped and fluttered there wings in the air. They aimed their claws right at each other and scraped the mud which clouded their surroundings with twigs and dirt.  

Further into the grassland, Ravi had pointed at a couple of mongoose across a narrow stream who stared at us for long. My guide suddenly shook me and shifted my attention towards a Great Indian Hornbill hovering over the trees behind the mongoose couple. The strange whizzing sound returned and the bird let out a crass yelp before disappearing beneath the trees.

I remember telling that the call of the Giant squirrel was scary. I take my words back!

“Ask the driver if we will see elephants on our way.” I heard my mother’s voice in my head.

I asked Ravi if we might see elephants on our tracks and he had the same look which he had when I had asked him about sighting tigers.

“Difficult. Stay very deep in forest. But let’s see.”

After that, we barely talked.

The rain had returned, this time a bit fiercely than before and I had my umbrella at guard at all times. Although the umbrella was necessary to keep my camera from getting drenched, I was having a hard time trying to click photographs with a single hand while my feet didn't stop. I tried not to get left far behind Ravi because he knew the tracks way better and this was not the city.

As the rain fell like knives onto my umbrella, it got difficult to handle all tasks under the cover.

“Give me.” Said Ravi as he took my umbrella and stood until I had captured some pictures of a tree whose trunk had been conquered by orchids- Epiphytes or air plant that grab onto a host tree but mean no harm unlike parasites. They were a striking dark pink in color.

Ravi contemplated the flowers as I captured them and told me about them as he handed me my umbrella.

The grass slurped as we walked, sending water splashing every now and then. I raised my feet one by one to check on leeches. None.

It was merely fifteen minutes when I noticed that we were getting deeper into the jungle once again. I looked over my shoulder to see the distant smoky outline of the Nilgiri. The mist had captured almost every inch of the range.

The bleak Nilgiri

On our walk through the jungle we were occasionally greeted by some other men. Mostly locals and tribal men. They all knew Ravi and he knew them. The sighting of more people apart from the two of us was faintly comforting.

My ankles ached and I felt sweat beads forming on my forehead. The puffy jacket was heating me up. But I had no choice otherwise. Plus, the thought of sighting elephants had kept me excited and going for so long.

The Periyar Lake served the main drinking joint while there co-existed several small ponds and streams in the forest. These streams were infested by crabs; I had seen one dangling from Ravi's feet.
We reached a pond lined by hardwood trees. The water was murky and the narrow path around it was mucky. 

In the months up to June before the southwest monsoon drenches the forest, the streams and the ponds go dry and small cracks build up in the floor. Since we were visiting a month after monsoon had begun, we had missed the chance of seeing the other face of the forest.  

Temperature in Thekkady soars from 15 degrees in December and January to 31 degrees in April and May. So, it stays cool in the forest year-round which is truly a respite from the boiling atmosphere of Gujarat. 

Me and my guide took the narrow mucky path which led us through the forest cover for a few minutes until we were out again in the open. But this time, we were surrounded by tall grasses and wet forest floor. Neither the Lake nor the Nilgiri were visible and we were just bound by a thick line of dark green at every end. Without much ado, Ravi strolled through the field of light green grass while I followed him.
As I put my first step the floor underneath shifted and squished. It was going to be a tough time for my shoes but I had to keep moving. Although walking was burdensome, I tried best to keep my feet high up above the grass while walking. 

One time the ground squished too much and I knew it definitely wasn't the forest floor I had stepped upon. I sheepishly peeked down at my feet which was now half immersed in a giant heap of dung. 

"It's fresh and its Elephant's." Ravi had come back to the rescue.
"Shake it off! We might be close to the elephants." 
And so we were back on the trail of the elephants which was certainly off our agenda as I noticed that the forest tracks which we had been following all that time had disappeared long ago.

We approached the tall trees which seemed merely a green wall from far away. I saw my guide go instinctively around the trees, touching the wet trunks every now and then and trying to sense any traces of the tusked beast. We walked for quite some time in between the trees with no luck. The rain was sorrowful and the silence was ominous.

After some time, Ravi looked at me and shook his head. I knew what it was. As we walked past the trees back to the area where the tracks reappeared, I imagined a family of elephants in hiding watching our every move and thankful that they weren't spotted. 

Ravi placed the bare skull of the bison which he had had with him all along, on a short rock by the track for an exhibit for eternity.

We followed back to the small pond and were surprised to see that the mucky path around it which had been so untouched few minutes ago were now filled with the deep footprints of an elephant. Damn! We had missed the beast by few minutes. What were the odds! 

"Thekkady is filled with shy creatures." I mused as we came across familiar trees and paths. The Periyar Tiger Reserve felt more like The Periyar Shy Tiger Reserve! 

I was broken off from my meditation by my guide who asked me to turn around and look over the trees at a distant hill. There, I saw a couple of Bisons grazing under a tree. The sunlight shone on the top of the hill.

Shy it is! 

"Kattapota." said Ravi pointing at the Bisons.

I recalled the Malayali names for the animals we had seen so far as spoken by Ravi. I asked him to repeat what they called a wild boar.
"Pannayi." He promptly replied.

As I constantly made a mental note of the names and their pronunciation I caught a glimpse of the men, I had come across before crossing the lake, cooking by the lake. I realized that our trip was coming to an end.

"Where do the tribal people live?" I asked Ravi, hoping to hear about some thatched huts guarded by the guardian- like trees amidst spying tigers, majestic elephants and other woodland creatures.

Tribal women at work 

"They live in the city." 

That was the ultimate anticlimax. I thought at first that I hadn't heard it right so I asked him once again to which he replied. 

"They have been living in the city for a long time now and come to the forest only on the weekends for fishing and cooking fish curry for lunch."

The idea seemed so unnatural to me, to have tribes shifting towards urbanization was like an end of a concept of which we had heard for so long.

Yet as I walked back towards the bank of the lake, boarded the fragile raft and landed on my feet back where I had started from, I filled my thoughts with the things I had seen in the trip. I wanted to take the memories back with me to my hotel room and back to Gujarat.  

Yet, in that sadness I found peace; a world far from us after all; a realm like nowhere. No language, no discipline, no rules and yet so peaceful. This was Paradise. Even for a layman who would be tired after a long hard day at work, Thekkady, with its signature lake and equally tempting vegetation would be a spot on treat. On that boat, sitting in my seat, my eyes behind lenses I felt envy in my heart.- Kerala Bhraman: The Sleeping Man

Me, Ravi and the raft

Back at the hut where I had met Ravi, I removed my pair of special socks to find a tiny leech stuck on it. Ravi asked me to make one final signature on a form before leaving after which I thanked him for the wonderful trip. I recalled how scared I was to do the walk earlier but then, the feeling of victory was paramount. I looked at the forest one last time hoping to see a boar to make an appearance like the previous time. But none came.

I returned to the hotel and had breakfast. This was our last day in Thekkady and we were going to leave the next day for Munnar which would mean a shift in the geological features once again.
A sudden shuffling of feet in the dining room caught my attention. The families paced towards the glass window with their phones to take pictures of a Great Indian Hornbill that had perched on a branch of a tree just outside. It had a pale gray crown, black wings and tail along with a yellowish beak.

Great Indian Hornbill

After having posed for a million photos, the bird leaped into the air and vanished. Having lost interest in the creatures behind the glass wall.

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.

Kerala Bhraman- The Bamboo Raft

How did I overcome my doubt about my Jungle Trip? Rush to Kerala Bhraman- The Moment to uncover.

Who was this man? A short mustachioed man, lean and dressed in a green uniform appeared from the hut's backyard. After he had unlocked the doors, he came up to me with a pad and laid it on my lap. 

Here! Fill up this form and sign underneath.

This man was going to be my guide for the safari, I figured out. Next, two more men, similarly dressed appeared in the front yard. They greeted my guide and went inside.

As I filled the form, the man went back into the hut and returned with two pairs of anti-leech socks. He quickly removed his shoes and covered his feet with the fabric and tied it tightly to his thighs then assisted me in doing the same.

Leeches were an inevitable bunch of dwellers in the damp and dark climate of the jungle. They are notorious for sticking on to the skin of the host on its set of teeth and constantly suck on its blood. If not taken care of, these hungry maniacs tend to bloat to large sizes.

Call it their gratitude towards their host for the delicious feast, leeches secrete something into the wound of the host that clots the blood and also makes the whole agenda painless.

Salt is a solution. Sprinkling a pinch of salt on the leech while it is at it will remove it instantly. If you sprinkle more than what is needed, the leech will leave but only after puking all that Bloody Mary on your leg!

I gently patted my pocket which contained the pack of salt I had filled from the hotel’s kitchen last night. After I was into my pair of special socks, I felt like a soldier myself- with my DSLR in my right hand and an umbrella in my left. I had put the spare lens in another pocket of my jacket along with a cell phone with the SIM card that could function in that locale.

I followed my guide down a stairwell to the bank of the Periyar Lake. We had to cross the lake and that was our first challenge before making it to the realm!

A wooden stump on the bank was wound by a rope which my guide tugged at to drag a bamboo raft toward himself. When the raft hit our side of the bank, the man signaled me to hop on.

The Bamboo Raft

As I stepped on the fragile piece of framed bamboo, it rocked and creaked. So, I collapsed where I stood and gave a thumbs up to my guide.

The man quickly walked to the other end of the raft and pulled at the rope which was tethered to the stump on the other end of the lake.

As the raft moved, I felt a tiny jolt of excitement in my tummy. One could see the huge expanse of the Lake on either side. Far off at a distance men sat on the forest floor while a huge steel trough steamed near them. Cooking amidst the wild must be so exciting!

When the raft hit the other end and I was on my feet again, I made a virtual hop of glory.



Stay tuned for the adventure that awaits ahead.

Kerala Bhraman- The Moment

If you missed the boat ride, you can still hop on to the next ride at Kerala Bhraman- The Sleeping Man

The next day, our rendezvous was earlier than the previous day. We set off for the information center where we had to be present at 7 am sharp. My parents had booked an early boat ride, in hope to sight more creatures. I on the other hand had been looking forward to my, would be first ever experience of a jungle safari on foot.

Needless to say, I had butterflies in my stomach and was highly anxious about the walk. I wished earnestly that the guide who was supposed to guide me and a bunch of other people into the forest would be heavily trained and vigil at all time. Yet, a part of me was at peace since I wasn’t going to be alone.

Nature Walk sign board

When I reached the information center, a guard pointed me towards the starting point of the jungle walk. Soon, I came across a flight of rocky steps that mingled with the wild grass of the forest and dropped down to a shut solitary hut.

The brown hut amidst the pelting rain cast an ominous spell and I felt a jolt in my tummy. I got a bad feeling about this. I heard myself speak.

If this is the starting point of the jungle walk, as I was told, shouldn’t there be a bunch of souls hanging around someplace nearby, waiting for the guide or perhaps chatting about the tremendous trek that was about to happen?

Am I going into the forest alone? The question unnerved me as drops of rain wet my head and seeped into my scalp. A jack fruit to the head is painful and surprising, but the raindrops, way more scary!

At that moment, when I was seeing stars around me, I caught a spontaneous glimpse of a wild boar. It was bouncing by the bank of the lake, a dirty black in color. The bristles on its back fluttered as it sprang and its head which strangely seemed larger than the rest of its body was motionless. His tiny legs took him into a nearby grove and it disappeared in the dark. 
The boar seemed like the last thing that could threaten me. I heard my inner self boosting me to go for it. 
The stars and clouds vanished as I found my confidence override the last specks of fear. I walked down the steps and sat in the façade of the hut, waiting for it to come to life.  

The sudden rustle in the bushes behind alerted me. What I faced now was a man walking towards the hut loaded with a backpack, his eyes fixed on me.

Who could this man be? Stay tuned!

Kerala Bhraman- The Sleeping Man

To read about our first glimpse of the evergreen forest, ride back to The Evergreen Forest of Thekkady.

"Reach the boat landing tomorrow morning at sharp nine a.m." the words of the receptionist the previous day occurred to me as I armed my jacket. When we made it downstairs for breakfast, the receptionist greeted us; it was morning and the hotel was lively. We strolled down the corridor to the restaurant. After a light breakfast on cut fruits and cereals we stepped outside the hotel. It was cold and misty outside and as we grabbed onto the massive iron gates which entered into the small garden that led to the boat landing, we let out some brisk puffs.
      

The boat landing was bustling that morning. Hundreds of tourists had flocked in the verandah. Some chatted while some took selfies of their troupe with the grand Periyar in the background. While I set off to click some myself, nature greeted me with a clout! It started with a startling thud on the tin roof above the verandah that scared everyone. Only a split second apart, something hit hard on my head. I was shaken as I quickly retracted my head. At first, I thought a monkey might have used my head as a ramp to hop off so I looked in the direction where it had gone and my eyes met with a small Jack fruit on the forest floor; It must have fallen off a tree above the roof.

The ghat as seen from the information center

The area was flooded with tourists and local families, all excited for the boat ride that awaited. In the last few days, it had been a relief not bumping into any Bengali or Gujarati families. It is pacifying when you are not in presence of people of the same lingo so that you can speak whatever you want to without anyone knowing it. A trio of a bespectacled man, a bespectacled lady and another man in shades in their thirties stood beside me, leaning on the railing of the verandah. The sudden jackfruit incident had shaken them too and the bespectacled man had stepped back well under the roof.

"Ave naa pare. It won’t fall anymore." The bespectacled lady told her friend in Gujarati. I turned my head with a start to face the group. Instantly I thought- Great! What’s next? A Bengali family asking me directions?

A small door in the information center led to the stone steps that ended at the ghat. There at the ghat, three boats were tied to the shore. Big boats with a lower deck and an upper deck. A dilapidated boat, I remember having seen the previous day lay under a tree far from the ghat; now that it had given its service, it was a part of another world, sleeping in the lap of nature. 

The dilapidated boat

Shooting

After a squeeze through a crammed single door toward the steps, we were on our way to our designated boat. A crew of two men from some local TV channel were busy shooting the lake while one of them stood before the camera and spoke out his script.

Jalaraja, literally the king of the water was a blue boat meant solely for the tourists who had checked into KTDC lodges and floated third in line. We walked up a ramp into the lower deck of Jalaraja. There were two rows of seats with four seats in each row and life jackets hung from the back of each seat. Our seats were in the upper deck. We took the narrow stairs to the upper floor where we faced another seating arrangement. Luckily, our seats were the first three seats of the first row. I claimed the seat by the railing and donned my life jacket as per the instructions.

At sharp half past nine, the three boats revved up their engines and a man untied the ropes from the stumps of wood on the shore. An elderly man with a steel container of tea climbed up the ramp to our boat at the eleventh hour. The other man then pushed the boat from the front till it was well into the lake, the greenish blue water. 

All aboard!

The sailor man began turning the boat till it faced the long expanse of the lake further, giving a perspective of the lake sandwiched between land on both sides which fused at the horizon and created a gush of verdant. The other boats had already begun their trip and we were left behind. So, Jalaraja in a feat of competition kicked the waters and dragged itself into the lake sending foaming water jets behind and waves sideways. 

Submerged

The boat steered close along the shore and the trees on our both sides swayed in the morning breeze. The front seat in the boat added to the benefit as I got a perfect view of the forest. A thrilling orchestra of birds, crickets and monkeys stirred up inside the cover. The floor beneath the dense trees was dark and every now and then tiny birds flew out from the cluster into the sky or over the lake. 

The short submerged stumps of wood that I had seen from the verandah last evening had grown into large tree trunks, bare and dead. They were green once; like any other tree in the forest. But that is history now. 

Passerby

Back in 1895, when John Pennycuick constructed the Mullaperiyar dam on the Mullayar River and its tributary Periyar; the longest in Kerala to send the water eastwards to the farmers of Madras, the lake came into existence. The bare stumps were a sad reminder of the past but they continue adorning the lake like any other element in the forest.

In action

Birds waded to their tops and spread their wings; some picked their feathers and looked aimlessly at the boats below while others glided into the lake to prey. At the edge of the lake, between half dipped tree branches, baby pan cowries practiced swimming; their parents blowing the whistle and rebuking them. 

Bird enjoying the breeze

Everything seemed to happen at the right time; so well placed, so natural it felt like it had all been rehearsed. Far off tribal men walked through the forest nonchalant of a tete-a-tete with a  tiger or a Dhole. 

A speed boat christened POLICE passed the trio of boats sending waves that made our boats sway. The sky had been a pale blue since morning and had later added on a hint of grey. A cool breeze had been blowing ever since the boat began moving; our life jackets proved to act as a cover from the cold. For the climax, it drizzled and the forest bathed for the first time since that morning.

It had been a good forty five minutes when Jalaraja slowed down close to what seemed to be another boat landing with the room for a single boat. A flight of wooden stairs landed at the boat landing from a small hill. from my seat I could see few deck chairs and a facade to a small cottage on the hill. This was The Lake view Palace. Another KTDC venture which was placed right inside the reserve. Its rooms served the novelty of the panoramic view of the lake and the elephants drinking, bison herd grazing, dholes chasing boars and tigers spying.

The old man with tea hopped off the boat onto the boat landing and climbed up to the resort and vanished. The boat immediately receded in the river and proceeded. Far in the green meadow, a bison herd was having breakfast. As soon as an accompanying guide on the boat announced it, riders got up from their seats convulsively and a melee followed. Look! Bisons! Look papa! Look mama! Look everyone!

The tea man

Soon afterward, in another meadow a pack of Dholes, wild dogs caught everybody’s attention. They looked at the boats with tongues lolling out of their gaping mouths, their canines glinting with an equal shine in their green eyes. The rain had ebbed for some time and a certain patch of cloud had cleared thus partially giving way to the sun. The sunlight embraced the leaves like a family reuniting after a long departure. The water with millions of tiny waves and its surface shimmering gave it an appearance of the slimy body of a slithering snake.

The boat cut through the lake, and reached a dead end. It slowed down and began turning towards right; the engine drone lowered. We had reached the part of the forest that we had seen from the ghat; trees and trees. They looked like a sleeping man with his hands on his belly. The forest once again moved into meditation as the clouds that were hovering above us gathered and the lake filled with the pitter patter. The tall trees that made up the sleeping man swung, a persistent rustle passing from tree to tree. The man was breathing, caressing his rising belly and his open long hair spread beyond his head shook with the wind.

The wind slowed and the rustling stopped. But it drizzled. The forest was quiet again, much like the sleeping man himself. The boat was now aimlessly moving along. The animals had returned; perhaps the play was done!  So as the boat turned at the end of the journey, where the lake was dominated by jagged rocks and only a thick row of trees divided the lead sky and the grey lake, it became melancholic.

Yet, in that sadness I found peace; a world far from us after all; a realm like nowhere. No language, no discipline, no rules and yet so peaceful. This was Paradise. Even for a layman who would be tired after a long hard day at work, Thekkady, with its signature lake and equally tempting vegetation would be a spot on treat. On that boat, sitting in my seat, my eyes behind lenses I felt envy in my heart.  

The horizon had now adapted a dark blue color fused with the clouds that had gone grey and the rains poured. When we reached the ghat and the boats brushed the ground, tourists were back on their feet. They walked down the ramp and stood by the lake on rocks posing for pictures and selfies. The forest guard arrived at the scene to take matters in his hand, he was handed a mobile instead. Take our photos will you?

An intrusion

As his pompous chest deflated, The guard blew his whistle and left. The pictures were taken and so was the guard!

When I reached the ramp, I took a photo of the boatman’s cabin- a cramped little space, a high wooden chair before the wheel, a talkie, a vase of flowers, a kettle and some papers. It was a small house, a boatman’s sansar.

Sansar

Tribal families fished by the lake, nodding and mocking the urban rush while they handled their rods, caught some fishes and cooked a succulent fish curry over a fire built by the lake itself. Waking up by the call of the birds, living with the roar of the tiger, walking beside the elephants and sleeping to the chorus of the crickets under the barely penetrating moonbeam.

On our way back to the information center and to the steps bordered by mahogany trees leading to our hotel, cherishing the memory of the boat ride we spotted a group of foreign men with stout sticks in their hand walking aside a forest guide. They walked past the tribal women washing clothes by the lake and disappeared into the jungle, behind a drapery of leaves. 

“Excuse me, which way is the information center?” a stout middle aged man asked me on my way to the stairs to our hotel.

“That way.” I promptly signaled which way the center was.

“Thank you very much. Baba, okhane jete hobe. Dad, we have to go there” The man called his father in Bangla. I was left speechless. What are the odds?

The thought of coming across a Gujarati family and a Bengali family on the same day hadn't left me. But, back in hotel the sight of tourists walking in the forest returned to me. The lovely receptionist who had attended to our inquiries before, quenched my curiosity by briefing me about the Nature Walk- a three hour trek through the jungles under the supervision of a guide. The mornings were ripe and the animals often came to the lake for their ablutions which gave the maximum possibility for their sighting. 
Hence, I booked the half past seven slot for the trek for next morning. A walk through the forest would be a total different experience for me and I would take back to my home Thekkady mud with me!

After the booking was done, I returned to our room while mom and dad retreated to the hotel spa where they were introduced to Shirodhara. 

When two Sanskrit words- Shiro meaning head and Dhara meaning flow combine, Shirodhara is born. Warm oil is gently poured on your head and is meant to impart a soothing effect to you after the entire process. What gets flowed on the temples depends on what is being treated and includes oil, warm water, coconut water, milk or buttermilk. 

When my parents returned back to the room visibly drenched in oil they declined to the bed and stayed there until snacks. We had had a hearty lunch downstairs earlier. The main attraction had been the crispy fried Tilapia fish which had a delicate aroma of curry leaves and tasted fabulous with lemon squeezed on them. The other dishes available on buffet were Puttu- steamed cylinders of ground rice layered with coconut, Dosa, Appam- type of pancake made with fermented rice and coconut milk, a spicy chicken preparation, and lemon rice. 

After an equally ceremonious dinner, and dessert consisting of vanilla ice cream topped on fresh cut pineapple, banana and papaya, I made a dart towards a group of waiters standing at the end of the hall.

"One plate of fresh cut fruits to go please." One of the waiters nodded in reply and turned in the direction of the kitchen door.
I realized that a plate of fruits won't be all that I would be needing the next morning.
"Excuse me! A bowl of salt too." I called out to the waiter who nodded without giving a second glance over his shoulder.

Salt. Salt I would need a lot tomorrow.

What will happen tomorrow? What adventure awaits in the rainforest of Thekkady? 
Stay tuned for the treat.

Kerala Bhraman- The Evergreen Forest of Thekkady

If you have missed out on the nail biting trip on the coiling road in the hill, rush to "The Farewell From The Jacketed Trees" and get yourself updated!

On entering Thekkady, the word of the tiger reserve was everywhere, making the town almost revolve around it. An array of hotels bearing lavish names- Cardamom County, Spice Garden and what not had a splendid look and emitted a spicy aroma to the after rain mist. The bumpy narrow road riddled with puddles led us to the check post outside the Periyar Tiger Reserve- a wicket gate stuck in half way was our gateway to the rain forest of Thekkady. A majestic tiger figurine looked upon the tourists through its cold painted eyes reminding them the very chilling truth that we may not see them but they see us. 

As we rode further, I kept dashing glances from window to window hoping to catch a drowsy elephant or a bubbly wild boar. But no, not the tiger. I wasn't up for that shock just yet! 

Damn it! I stress my neck and eyes and they don’t even sneak a peek! 

We saw tourists, mostly local families walked on the road returning from a trek. They looked exhausted yet exuberant. 

The car reached a huge parking lot, sultry with the crowd of tourists and their respective cars.  On our right we got a glimpse of a gigantic turtle figurine looking at the sky and need I speak about the customary selfie birds?

There we were halted at another check post where a forest guard asked us for the reservation receipt at our resort ahead. We were let through in no time and we drove past some posh resorts before landing at our destination. 

Hotel room foyer

Our car parked at the door of Aranya Nivas and its exhaust let out a sigh of relief. The ladies at the reception greeted us and briefed us about the activities that take place each day in Periyar while we completed the formalities. the receptionist briefed us about the elephant safari- a journey into the jungle on elephant back, the bamboo rafting- stout bamboo stems tied together and set afloat on the Periya Lake, Jungle Walk- a walk through the forest under the supervision of a guide, and finally the Boat ride- along the banks of the lake. We booked three seats for the boat ride for 9 next morning while a bell boy carried our luggage to our room upstairs.

The room- a deserving suite, entered into a foyer with two sofas and a glass top table. On the other end of the foyer was another door that opened to a huge terrace which formed an easy passage for the black langoors on the trees beyond. Opposite to the seats was the entrance to the bedroom- a huge bed and a divan. The television did not receive much attraction. Our luggage was put on a table outside the bathroom. The bell boy warned us not to open the window in the bedroom at morning time as 'monkey is coming.'

Black Langoor

Just few hours ago, we were being seen off by Mr. Bhaskar, the manager of Marine Palace Hotel and his great dog into our car, still lost in the charms of the sea beach of Varkala. While now, we were at the foot of the green yet mysterious dense forests of Thekkady at around 3000 ft above sea level.

Mr. Bhaskar and his dog

After freshening up and snacking on tea along with French fries, we planned to visit the boat landing area- the spot from where we would start our booked boat ride the next morning.

We slipped out of another gate to a stairway with gardens on both sides. A huge banyan tree guarded the the last step before a crossing and the information center which was going to be our starting point for the boat ride.

Stairway to the information center

The information center, true to its name, displayed all sorts of information regarding Periyar, the activities and the wide array of flora and fauna. 

"Robi! call maa. She has got to see this!" 
My father called me from the ginormous wooden verandah on the other end of the information center.
                                         But was I listening? I... I...

Periyar Lake

Aha! I was silent. My eyes froze at the lush green beauty before me. A Field with clusters of the evergreen trees and the lake, wide and still lay in the center- stumps of trees stood atop the surface of the water. Far off at the horizon of distinct color, the hills; lying cold and bathed in the mist. It had begun to softly rain. The forest seemed to lie in a deep siesta, breathing in and out. The creatures were returning into their abode beneath the trees from their work of the day’s attraction and entertainment and with the rain, the entire forest rose to a gentle applause. Oh! What works you have done Oh! God. 


The evergreen forests, only read of in textbooks in classrooms closed within four walls were seeping out of the pages, alive before me, extending out of the grasp of the menacing boundaries. Evergreen.

"Maa! You need to see this!" I called out with half attention.

For dinner, we had Roast Chicken, Chicken Ularthiyathu  and lemon rice. The fresh fragrance of the rice, the chewy roast chicken with a garlic flavor and the taste of curry leaves in the Ularthiyathu were a whole new experience on our trip to the south. But nothing that night could contain our excitement for the boat ride next day. My feet were eager to set foot on the forest floor. Especially after the brief teaser in the evening.


What will happen on the boat next day? Will we reach the landing on time? You will know it soon in the next chapter!