UPbeat

When I boasted about how much I enjoyed traveling, little did I guess that my fortunes would take it that seriously. Now there is hardly any time when I am not traveling, but this time mostly on work. As usual, there have been things I have wanted to share, experiences I have desired to narrate added with my own little spices. Unfortunately, the job does not give me enough time to do so. But this time with a firm intention to pen them down, I am writing this while in a half-empty Volvo bus to the city of Taj. Only rarely do you find roads in UP where you can dare to type while on move, NH2 from Delhi to Agra is one of them.

allahabad: khusru bagh

For the uninitiated, I have been traveling all around UP (Uttar Pradesh, for clarity to the small town people). From the town where the gorgeous Sadhana once dropped her jhumka, to the town where our Don went bonkers over the lovely pans, to the modern day wedding of our Tanu and Manu, the state is as dramatic and filmy as their own CM.

My tryst with this wonderland started six months back. The first journey itself gave me good previews of what was about to follow. I had boarded one of those incredible auto-rickshaws in Ghaziabad which may be already in the race for Guinness world records for carrying as many as 18-20 big passengers on the 3-tiny-wheeled-vehicle. Apparently this sumo carrier was coming from Muradnagar and had this encouraging line written on the side panels, “Sherni nashe se choor hai, kaun kehta hai Ghaziabad Muradnagar se door hai”. For friends that boast knowing Hindi, this would mean that while the tigress is drunk and out, who would say Ghaziabad is far from Muradnagar. Now I know that the first line has nothing to do with the second, but look at the creativity of the author (probably the driver himself!). There is certainly a patriotic feeling attached, to this line on bridging distances. Another thought that swept across my mind – when the tiger census declared that only 1411 tigers were left, what if they missed our drunk tigresses! PJ!

On a broken road to Aligarh, I was somewhere around Sikandrabad when I happened to read a milestone reading ‘Kutte ki kabar’ (Graveyard for dogs, if I were to force translate). Yes, that was the name of the village/town I was reaching. Imagine a resident of this proud place saying, “Hi, I live in kutte ki kabar”. Would you get goose-bumps or would you laugh out loud?

agra: man vs wild

Talking of animals, you are sure how much Hindus are devoted to their holy cows when you are in the birthplace of Krishna – Mathura. In the busy market-places of Mathura, you see more cows than vehicles. If in any other town you see a cow coming at you, you would probably jump off miles away. But in Mathura, humans have a deep understanding with their goddesses. Same situation, and you will see both the sides gently pass each other, but not without a caressing touch. There is this one particular shop in a very busy market, where I have been rubbed by the cows not once, but every time I have stood outside that shop. It was scary first, but friendly the times thereafter. 

Sometimes it can also get challenging when you are against them. The snap alongside was taken in the lanes of Agra when we were trying to pass through an opposing gush of buffalos. Now that is Man against Wild in action!

varanasi: what-it-is-for-foreigners

I happened to be in Varanasi right during its festive season – the Maha Shivratri. With some great hospitality by my co-workers, I munched heavy on their local cuisines including some mouth-watering, rich sweets (malai-poori, rajbhog etc.), super-rich rabri, coolest kullhar-wali lassi and one of the best thandai I have ever had. Khoya seems to be high in demand in this place and that is precisely the reason why milk is quite expensive in Varanasi, ask a local and you will be surprised.

varanasi: thandai

Varanasi lives in its narrow but colourful lanes. I realized this more when my hosts were taking me to some place best known for its thandai. We walked through lanes to reach a shop which looked nothing more than a big hole in the wall. The man-in-dhoti served thandai in tall kullhars (earthen tumblers) to the crowd standing outside and below. But we were not supposed to be served there. We climbed up that hole and I quietly followed my hosts passing through some men doing the dishes, and there came a small four-walled enclosure where some customers sat wall-to-wall. It all appeared as if we had entered a mafia hideout. Nobody took any orders but they were fast to bring a tray full of tall glasses of thandai that were kept in front of each of the guests. I was quick to ask if the drink was bhang-free. Yes, it was because the bhang was served separately as a wet-green lump which some people gulped down like a medicine and drank the thandai over it. If Germans have a beer-fest, our Banarasi babus’ thandai fest is no less.

varanasi: the shiv-parvati dance

On the evening of Shivratri there is a type of procession that happens as part of a local celebration. It is called ‘Shivji ki baraat’. As the name clearly suggests, it is dramatized to represent mythology, apparently. But to me it was hilarious to watch so-called-Shivji’s-guests in the procession. There were people dressed as ghosts, animals, jokers, witches and what not. In one instance, a eunuch sat on a cart as part of the procession. My hosts called her out to show me some moves, “arey, sahib ko thoda naach dikhaiye”. The eunuch was actually lightening fast to respond to their request. She got up instantaneously and started dancing. I was more embarrassed than anything at that moment. Then there were little kids who were dressed as goddesses or something, but were more interested in the kurkure packets they were holding. The best one was the last cart that carried a boy and a girl dressed as Shiv and Parvati, respectively on it. This Shiv appeared more fun-loving, naughty and full of life, than the blue one found seated on mountains. This Shiv danced modern with Parvati, almost like a Salman Khan doing a didi-tera-dewar-deewana with Madhuri. Only the song was little more interesting, and the lyrics were somewhat like this – “Oh Ganesh ki mummy, mujhko bhi bhang pilaade naa. Oh Ganesh ke daddy, mujhko tu aur sataiyyo naa.” (Oh Ganesha’s mom, prepare me some bhang. Oh Ganesha’s daddy, do not bother me more.)

varanasi: parenting both faces of life

UP is not about politics, corruptions, goons and crime. It is an amalgamation of cultures, of world-renowned architecture and craftsmanship, of unmatchable delicacies, of celebration of life. With a place like that, you know I have lots more to tell. So I will be back with more narrations from the place. Till then, stay UPbeat!


Take a look at some snaps if interested...
https://picasaweb.google.com/siddartha.sherpa/UPbeat?authkey=Gv1sRgCKGysvrk-Oes1QE&feat=directlink#

Wonderland Lansdowne

The alarm on my phone started ringing digitally accurately at 05:45am, disturbing the sound sleep I was indulged in my air-conditioned cradle! Hung from my upper berth I tried to peep out of the window. We were there! The train stopped at Kotdwar digitally accurately at 05:55am. (Never expected a train to be so bang on schedule!)

KOTDWAR! I had heard the name of this place from my lovable tenants, long time back. They were Garhwalis and the place was supposed to be a home to them. The railway station had just one platform and as far as I remember just two tracks. The platform led to broad stairs (like ones to a temple!) leading up to the exit to the station and entry to the land of Garhwal.

Jappa (aka Jai Prakash Soni) and Kedia (aka Rahul Kedia) were my 2 companions in this short trip to destination Lansdowne, more precisely Jaiharikhal. The plan initially kicked off with 6 of us, friends from IIT-KGP, showing enthusiasm for an outing. But the worldly constraints made 3 of them to back-out. Undoubtedly, nothing could stop the remaining 3 to have a ball!

Lansdowne is further 40km up on road from Kotdwar, and we were already guided by our ‘warm hosts’ on how-to-reach. So we hopped in one of these shared vehicles (mostly Boleros) at the station. The driver took 20 minutes taking rounds in the town, until the total travellers he had picked (all locals except us) reached 10 (4+4+2) in that strong 4-wheeled Bolero. Even though we sat comfortably, in my mind, I thanked them for not going the Gurgaon auto-drivers way, who seat 15 (4+4+4+3) in their 3-wheeled rickety iron-case.

Criss-crossing narrow but busy lanes of Kotdwar we soon started to leave the population behind. The road started to tilt, the land on the side started to fall, the trees became longer and longer, and there we were rising up above the sea-level. One of my Garhwali co-passengers sitting in front of me had a Hindi newspaper in his hand. What caught my eye was a big picture of a revealing Pamela Anderson. The headline over it read “aaykar ke bhaar mein” (“under the weight of tax”). That’s when a naughty thought crossed my mind, “Did the writer actually mean ‘aaykar/tax’?”

In a short while, the roads became curvy and then a little too much. I was pukish and looked forward to reaching our destination even more. But there were some beauties to enjoy. There were mountains all around us, and to add to the mesmerisation, they were all full of pines and deodars. In the valley down below there was a thin river flowing. Beauty! Amidst all the gifts of nature what I did not see was houses or villages, but even then my co-passengers kept dropping on and off on the silent roads. I did try to figure out their destination; but the roads were too curvy for me to track them for long. One turn, and the whole scene would change.

Thankfully, I saw the first sign of human habitation after an hour or so. It was a welcome gate by Garhwal Rifles. We were entering Lansdowne, or if I may say a cantonment area. Lansdowne has been beautifully maintained by the army and that’s all what it has, nature and the brave men of the nation. When I stepped out of the vehicle, what amused me was the appearance of that tiny market-place where we were dropped. It so looked like an artificial set from a movie (like a film-city). There was a small park in the middle, which was nothing more than a green roundabout, but it still read ‘Gandhi Park’. There were shops, stalls and some hotels around that park, all low in height with people walking, chit-chatting. It was all in one circle and that’s it.

Taking another shared vehicle from Lansdowne we covered a distance of 5km to reach Jaiharikhal. With a curfew-like atmosphere, we struggled to locate our Inn. There was a loud silence all around us; only a few tiny houses on the road-side and a few men crouched in a corner. Taking their help we headed on a road discovering a few more signs of habitation. Even while we were guessing if the red-shed house was what we were looking for, we saw our ‘warm hosts’ wave at us from down below.

Oak Grove Inn was the only place to stay outside Lansdowne, but by far the best of all. After some internet research I had got in touch with Col. Vikram Rawat, the owner, over phone. The Inn had 3 floors with 4 rooms each on the top 2 floors. The lowest floor had a small cosy dining hall. The top floor levelled the road passing by; that’s how it is in hilly areas, you probably never need stairs to your terraces, you always have a road/path next to it. There was a wooden shade very prettily decorated which overlooked the hills and the valley; undoubtedly, the best place for coffees and conversations; the board hung above it read ‘how about a hangout’. Why I have been calling Col. Rawat and his wife as ‘warm hosts’ is simply because, in just a few minutes we got so connected to them, that it felt as if we were visiting an uncle-aunt after a long time.

We took a couple of hours to freshen up and hogged up a heavy breakfast of hot and delicious aloo paranthas. Hiking-trekking was the plan and Col. Rawat guided us a route which included short-cuts off the road covering all the so-called tourist spots Lansdowne had to offer. We started our journey on foot on the main road. But I think the hills on the sides were just too tempting to be walking on a metalled path. I climbed off the road even though Kedia resisted. He was correct in suggesting that we did not know where the jungle would lead us to. But then that was the exciting part. I and Jappa forced a half-hearted Kedia to take that detour. Believe me, the experience was rewarding. The surface was completely covered by dry pine needles which made it slippery and difficult to walk. And I was awe-struck by the views from the top. It was like a ‘Qayamat se Qayamat tak’ setting for ‘Gazab ka hai din’ song. Tall trees, pine-needles covered surface, no dirt, no filth, just serenity at its best. But Kedia soon got worried, because he felt it was impossible for him to climb down back, if we did not find a way forward from here. But luckily enough we did. We came across a trail which took us to the metalled road again.

Walking along the road we came across a small temple covered with small pink roses. There was a tiny stream of water flowing from a pipe at the temple which we hopefully correctly guessed as from natural spring. The water was chilled and tasted so great that we were soon like sparrows on a bird-bath. Further ahead we walked roads, trails, pavements. We visited famous view-points, churches, temples. We have been walking since 12 noon, but we did not stop until 6 in the evening. We were in the Lansdowne town shopping and had plans to either walk back to Jaiharikhal or take a shared vehicle. It was getting darker, but we were unwary of the problems coming by. One of the shopkeepers casually asked us for where we were staying, and it seems Col. Rawat is famous around these circles. He then immediately asked us if we had a vehicle with us. We then came to know that the shared vehicles stop after 5pm, and it is not really safe to walk back a 5km of deserted stretch, also because of danger of leopards. Oops! That ran a chill down our spine!

Now we almost felt stranded with no idea of what to do. The shopkeeper was very helpful in this regard. He made a few phone calls to check if a taxi could be arranged for us. Many of them turned him down. After an hour of waiting, finally one of them answered positively, but even he was cautious of the passengers he was about to carry. I could hear the shopkeeper say over phone, “Don’t worry they are all nice guys. No, they are not drunk; I take full guarantee of them.” Either the hilly-people are too innocent and sweet, or the Delhiites have a pretty bad impression in such regions. The taxi arrived in 20mins, and we thanked the shopkeeper guy for all his help. The shopkeeper instructed the driver to show us any leopard that comes across. That was another shot of high! While I enquired the same from the driver, he suggested that even walking was not that bad an option. “Leopards don’t attack us, they wait for you to go and only then they appear. Moreover, only once in a while have people reported being confronted by them.” That was in no way making our decision to walk look less stupid.

We were so relieved and happy to reach our Inn safe and sound. We spent rest of the night feeling the chill in the breeze, lazing in a candle-lit room, with music from the small speakers I had carried, and munching away an awesome fried bhindi prepared by the Inn cooks. It was dark everywhere else. Frankly speaking, I also had an eye on the open door, for my leopard hangover was yet to get over.

Next morning we were to trek our way to Bhairavikhal. Rawat aunty had suggested the same, as it was a steep one-hour climb to reach a temple at the top. And this was on an opposite direction from our last day’s trip, towards Pauri. Our ‘warm hosts’ gave us a lift in their car to Gumkhal from where we took a shared jeep to the base of Bhairavikhal. All of these places that you hear were nothing more than a cluster of 10-11 houses. But the terrain on this side had changed, it was higher but drier. The mountains appeared barren and naked. The climb to the top was enthralling. Land kept falling on our sides, while I kept warning my friends to walk carefully and not lose balance. On reaching the top, we got what we were promised, a mind-blowing 360 degree view!

Even though I had expected to experience the local Garhwali way of life, there were some culture shocks coming my way. In the barren surroundings, I would have expected locals to be struggling for their living. Interestingly atop each and every house there was compulsorily a dish antenna, even in the remotest areas. The music playing on our return jeep was none other than ‘dupatta tera sat rang da, soniye!'  and other similar sounding tunes. Oh man, Punjab is everywhere! While we ordered for a samosa-chhole combo at a tea-stall which tasted really good, a villager lady sat on a chair next to us. She ordered a samosa and tea. It couldn’t have been more amusing than to see that lady eat a dry samosa with a spoon! And that’s why my friend, never stereotype; world is way different than your expectations.

Before leaving back for Delhi, we spent some time with our ‘warm hosts’ at ‘how about a hangout’. There were some interested comments that came from Rawats. They complimented us on being their second guests who showed enthusiasm to climb up to Bhairavikhal. Mrs. Rawat also commented that 3 of us reminded her of a famous movie and after some guess-game she disclosed ‘3 Idiots’. While we talked with Col. Rawat, she brought us some hot samosas and cheese balls that she had prepared for us. I think I just cleaned-chit the plates for they were one of the best on this earth.

On our way towards Kotdwar station, it had gone dark and there was a big bright ring of jungle fire that I could see. After driving down for some time, our driver pointed towards Lansdowne and Jaiharikhal somewhere in the hills, which was not visible to my eyes at least. I was just glad to be able to spot the same jungle fire. It brought me a feeling that I was still in touch and not very far from the place and the people of the wonderland. I hate that turn after which I lost it.

Glimpses captured in the camera can be seen in the following link.
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/siddartha.sherpa/WonderlandLansdowne#

Beauty & the Beach: Treasures of Gopalpur

Working with JSPL, Raigarh hardly gave me and my fellow colleagues any time for an outing (6-days working!). Two of my colleagues were married and our bhabhis repeatedly complained of getting bored at home while we go to work. Being a travel freak myself I wondered if I will ever get a chance to visit some of these nature's marvels we were surrounded with. And then, some 10 days ago, I realized that Diwali was on a Saturday, which gave us our first 2-days weekend, with most of us staying back in Raigarh. This triggered an idea to utilize it, but how!!

With my parents visiting Puri and around 15 days ago, I had done good research to identify some great places to visit in Orissa. And, after a much enthusiastic participation in the debate over the location to visit, we zeroed down on a plan to visit Gopalpur-on-sea and Chilika Lake. So thrilled I was I spent most of the time chalking out a plan for the two days; reading reviews on trains to take, hotels to stay, cars to hire, restaurants to eat, special food preparations to try and what not. But all that started paying off when we started our journey on the evening of Friday, October 16. The travelers were Manish, Sriharsha, Sameer, Gunjan, Sanhita bhabhi and me.

A train to Jharsuguda, Orissa and from there to Bhubaneswar, we had a Tavera waiting to take us to Gopalpur, a 3-hours drive. During the drive, we were accompanied by some beautiful hills, Chilika Lake on one side, and signboards greeting us to the nesting beach of the world-famous Olive Ridley turtles. We reached Gopalpur at 11am on Saturday, October 17 and found ourselves awe-struck with the view of the sea-waves splashing and crashing on a beach that could not have been cleaner and prettier than this. And spicing up the fun was the Hotel Sea Side Breeze, which resembled a cottage and the rooms were right there on the beach; any closer and it would be inside the sea. And if you thought such hotels would be expensive, be ready for the room-rents you are about to hear. INR 400/- for a double-bed room!! There there, close your mouth, because there are more interesting facts to come.

Impatience was at its new high, while we quickly changed and ran down the beach for a splash. In and out of the water we played with the smiley ball and frisbie, which Manish and Sameer had diligently purchased before the trip. From the reviews I had read, I knew that the sea here was not very safe. The waves were said to have a strong undercurrent and hence swimming was not advisable here. Bhabhi had also warned us of the loose sand in the waters, like quicksand. And with all the warnings, I and Bhabhi had to parent the other four kids, who were not ready to listen and would keep going further into the sea taken over by their new-found energy. We returned to our hotel at 1:30pm, for a lunch in the balcony of our room, which opened to the sea. With vegetarians always at a disadvantage in this part of the country, the food did not taste good. But I had no complaints, since the fish preparation was delicious, and I would not need anything more than that. After lunch we all crashed for a short but deep nap for the next 2 hours.

With all the phone alarms failing to wake us up on time, it was 4:30pm when I suddenly realized so. And we were only left with an hour for the close-by Lighthouse to shut-down for the visitors. We managed to reach the Lighthouse by 5pm, and climbed up the unending stairs to reach the top. Nonetheless we were totally rewarded for all the panting. The sight of the whole Gopalpur from top, the sea-horizon, the backwaters entering the land and casuarina trees below was one of a kind. We also saw the lighthouse light beginning to glow, right beside us. And after some photography, we climbed down to avoid the bright light.

It was completely dark by 6pm. And while Sameer and Manish unable to resist the waves went in the water again, we sat on the beach snacking on jhaal-muri and chana-masala. The waves had become stronger, and now the splash of the water started chasing us further away. And once again, it was difficult to take out our two boys out of the water, as they were totally enjoying the huge waves crashing onto the shore.

Being a Diwali evening we did not want to miss out on the festive fun too. And so, Gunjan and I borrowed a scooter with a dysfunctional headlight from the hotel caretaker, and went on a search for some crackers. Given the small village Gopalpur is, we could only find a few stalls emerging out of their homes, selling crackers with never-heard brand names. But what was interesting was discovering some locally made crackers. Even after buying so many of them, what we spent was a meager INR 300/-. One bomb that we bought in huge numbers was an ultimate value for money. Available for just INR 2/- per piece, it was made with canes and had an explosive sound. We named it the 'naxal bomb'.

After some amazing fireworks by the sea, we went out for dinner, to a much recommended restaurant I had read about. With a decent ambience, the restaurant had their waiters in Hawaiian shirts. Although the restaurant was visited so that our fellow vegetarian friends could find some decent food, they were once again disappointed by the preparations. On the contrary, I was thrilled with the idea of eating Crabs for the first time. Crab-masala and Pomphret Fish preparations, I was on a non-veg spree! Bhabhi taught me how to eat crabs (though she is a vegetarian herself) and I simply loved it.

After we returned to the hotel, we went to the beach again for some chit-chat by the sea. The moment I stepped onto the sand, I saw something ran past my feet. I was only wondering what it was, when suddenly our car driver called out to show us what stood and ran under his torch-light. Crabs, live crabs!! And they were so many! We were surrounded by them. They had come out in the darkness of the night. I had arranged for some beer, and I spent next hour running behind them with a camera in one hand and a beer in the other.

To wake up early morning was the plan. While bhabhi wanted to do some early morning photography, I wanted to try jogging on the beach, like John Abraham does in the Garnier ad. All dressed up in sports shoes I went onto the beach at 6am. The moment I started running, I discovered that the sand was quite loose, and every time I stepped hard, my shoes would sink in. It was embarrassing while some fishermen and other localites stared at my stupid attempt to run on such a land. I then decided to go for a walk along the shore. But in a few minutes, I found myself dodging the great Indian asses. The local villagers were all sitting along the shore, pooping! And unlike north where they at least hide behind bushes and trees, here they were sitting in wide open areas for all to see. I tried avoiding the sights by being as close to water as possible and constantly looking at the sea. But when I started walking back, I was greeted by the same asses again, and this time they were in the waters, washing! The whole idea that started with imitating John made me feel like a 'bheegi billi' of 9XM channel.

After some great splashes in the waves that were bigger and more forceful than the previous day, I tried my hand at sand sculpting. While the waves kept washing away my creations, a funny video was shot by bhabhi without my notice. Watch it if you want!

We checked out of the hotel at 10am on Sunday, October 18 and drove to Barkul by the Chilika Lake. Hiring a 7-seater boat to the Nalabana Island, famous for spotting migratory birds, we went on an hour-long boat journey on the Chilika Lake, Asia's largest backwater lagoon. Even though it was not a season to spot birds, we were thrilled by the island itself, which was almost completely submerged in the lake, leaving us only a few pieces of land to walk on. With little knowledge on birds, whatever we saw looked exotic. A pair of binoculars would have helped to watch these cool birds. And an icing on the cake was spotting a few dolphins on our return path to Barkul.

After feasting at the Pizza Hut in Bhubaneswar, we returned to the very same place where we started our journey from, only to wish we never had to come back.

Trekking in the unknown territory @Raigarh

For past 2 months I had fascinated the hills that walled the JSPL Township in Raigarh, Chhattisgarh. There were low rocky hills, behind which stood the dense and the majestic ones. It was the evening of September 16th that Manish (my friend here in JSPL) proposed trekking them up. I had no second thoughts regarding this and we decided to leave early morning the next day. A senior manager had advised Manish the other day, to only go up to a certain reservoir somewhere below the lower hills, and stick to the trodden tracks to avoid any confrontation with the wild bears.

Next morning Manish and I set out for my much awaited, self-hyped adventure. It was 7am in the morning when we left our hostel with a backpack with mainly water bottles, a cake and some corn-flakes; basically all that we could gather from our rooms. We reached the exit gate of our township, beyond which was a highway and right across were some villages, with our target hills in the backdrop. We confirmed with the gatekeeper if it was safe to trek them up. I don’t know if he understood us correctly, but he directed us to the same reservoir we had earlier been advised about.

So here we walked taking the village kuchcha roads. We came across a few villagers and Manish joined his hands to say “Namaste”. On God! That was both embarrassing and funny, making us look like some silly foreigners who would Namaste every passer-by. We finally diverted to reach the much recommended reservoir. It was pretty, but not what we had come for. We walked up the low hills, while the sun shone bright in the clear sky. There were interesting rocky cliffs; one, as pointed out by Manish, looked like the ‘The Lion King’ cliff. It was getting sunnier and the climb up these lower hills kept us panting, sweating, but yet breathing a fresh, clean and cool air emerging out of the forests ahead. Manish wanted to climb this giant hill in the backdrop, but I wasn’t even sure if we would be able to reach the foothills of the big one. So I suggested that we first climb up the peak-point of these low hills from where we could assess the distance and route to the big one.

To our surprise we never reached any highest point from where we could look far and below. Instead, we reached a T-junction of a trodden path, and decided to take the one that looked like heading towards our target hills. And so, even before we could realize we were already walking downwards. The path was getting thinner; our mobile phone network was falling; and somewhere within I was getting a little scared…

All types of wild grass and tree branches had started closing in on us. The sunlight, very bright a few minutes ago, had started to scatter. And few minutes later, we reached a diversion in the path we had stuck to. One of the paths appeared broader and cleaner which meant the human movement on it was frequent; while the other was thin, really thin, mostly because of the grass that had grown on and over it; what that meant was quite obvious. But at this point Manish demanded some excitement and there we took up the latter. Jumping and hopping over the wild grasses that were now scratching my legs (I was in a pair of shorts!), we went on and on.

Sometime later we came across a bed of pebbles, which we discovered was a beautiful rivulet. It was a mesmerizing moment, with the sound of flowing water, forest all around, and some cool creatures in the waters. Besides some tiny fishes, we saw a small crab and some floating (in fact, very excitedly!) spiders. We halted to feel the calm and peace of that place.

Few minutes later, we crossed the rivulet and started walking. This time around I had picked up a thick stick as a precautionary measure against any unexpected passer-by. (I knew it was breakfast time, I was hungry too. But I did not want to be on the menu!!). Struggling through the tall grasses and branches, we were bravely fighting our way through them. All of a sudden we walked into an open area, not something we could rejoice about. I was shell-shocked! Manish looked at me for a hidden signal on “What now!!” There was a tribal man standing there, wearing only a small 'dhoti' sort of thing. He had an axe in one hand and, what appeared to me from distance, a rifle on the shoulder… I didn’t know what to do, and we spent a few seconds of silence staring at each other. So just trying to break the silence and appear harmless, I asked innocently, “Bhai, kya hum aage jaa sakte hain?” to which he replied “Jaiye naa!”. So we moved ahead. While bypassing him I confirmed that what hanged on his shoulder was anything but a rifle. But yet, I could not convince myself that there was no possibility of his connections with the Naxalites. What if that “Jaiye naa!” was filled with sarcasm!!

Trying to keep away the negativities we walked further to reach another small open area where Manish suggested that we sit for a while. We sat, ate some cake and I packed back a small amount of it in case we get lost in the forest. Oh God! The negativities! But very soon we were taken aback by the fact that we were right below the hills we had aimed for, the big one. From a few spaces that allowed some sunlight to reach us, we could see the vertical giant hill, covered with dense forests. Wow! Finally! We had made it.

But we had not decided to stop as yet. Now that we were here, we were to climb it. But it was easier thought than done. The path had completely vanished by now. The trees were dripping water. The scattered sunlight that hit us occasionally would go away if we moved ahead. But guess what! We did. Only this time, I asked Manish to find a thick stick too. And the climb began.

To avoid losing our direction on the way back, I started making crosses on the rocks that came our way. The climb had become steeper, while we had to pull ourselves up the rocks. There were bamboo grasses around us, and from what I had heard, pretty good chance that even some snakes like cobra would be in the vicinity. We kept warning each other to be careful. In between we kept arguing if we should talk loud or not. I believed talking loud would keep away any animals, while Manish thought it would attract unnecessary attention.

And suddenly, we were stunned at the sound of something moving behind the trees. Manish claims that he saw something in brown there. We stared at each other trying to figure out what it was. Until then we had demonstrated enough courage trekking up all the way, but to go ahead to discover what stood behind those trees seemed foolish. We were just two of us, and heavily under-equipped with just a stick in hand. We wouldn’t even be able to run in that dense jungle if required. Manish asked in a hushed voice, “Kya karna hai?” pat came my reply, “Waapas chal”.

And then there was no looking back. We walked; in fact, we walked faster on the way back. Crossing the place we had rested, crossing the rivulet (while I tripped over a pebble!), loving the sun-rays falling on us, we finally reached the diversion where we had chosen to reject the frequently trodden track. We came across 2 men going to some village, who advised us to go there only in the mornings after 7am, when the sun is shining bright, as the bear sightings were frequent otherwise. They also advised us to carry a small weapon while venturing into that forest.


To tell you the truth, I was more scared of humans than any animal. As Manish puts it, 90% of the time an animal would run away on spotting humans. There can still be some ways to escape their attack. But what if you come face-to-face with a naxalite in their area! Do you run; do you climb trees; what do you do? May be just beg for your life. In the real world, one who has the gun has the power. The hype around Chhattisgarh being a disturbed belt, with naxals and the like residing under the cover of these majestic forests has killed the tourism of this beautiful state.

In hindsight it was awesome fun going on an unplanned hardly trodden trek. What was missing was a good quality camera.

It was 10 a.m. while we came out of the forest. As a bonus we were ready for a well deserved hearty breakfast, even though a curiosity to know what hid behind those trees, that we missed, will always remain.