Birding moment of the day - Pariah or Black Kite - preening busily. At the Bund Garden, Pune, Maharashtra. April 2015.
wild ferns and other small flora of the Shevaroy hills, Eastern Ghats at Yercaud, near Salem, Tamil Nadu - August 2016
I am always fascinated by the sheer strength and persistence of wild ferns, mosses and lichens and other small flora in the steep hill slopes and plateau grasslands of the Eastern Ghats, Western Ghats, Satpuras and the Himalayas. I wonder if there is a good field guide to the ferns and mosses of the Indian mountain systems. There are a number of fern species and they do come in various sizes. Some are endemic to certain hill ranges while some occur through the Indian Subcontinent. Most of these varieties and species have been cultivated and their variegars are good garden plants.
I had accompanied my daughter to Yercaud, a hill station above Salem in Tamil Nadu. We wandered about the Shevaroy hills over a couple of days, and were amazed to see the diversity in ferns, mosses and small flora. The flowering season seemed to have just gone by, but the absolutely glowing greenery made up for it entirely. All along the slopes and in the inner forests, the strength of the small flora was very obvious.
This photograph was taken near the botanical gardens, and along the roadside. This patch was just next to the local parking lot and shanties vending various food items. It was a very disturbed location and could have easily been without any vegetation. However, the small ferns and other small flora were quite pugnacious and were able to make their own way in spite of the disturbance, exhaust fumes and shanty kitchens nearby.
I had accompanied my daughter to Yercaud, a hill station above Salem in Tamil Nadu. We wandered about the Shevaroy hills over a couple of days, and were amazed to see the diversity in ferns, mosses and small flora. The flowering season seemed to have just gone by, but the absolutely glowing greenery made up for it entirely. All along the slopes and in the inner forests, the strength of the small flora was very obvious.
This photograph was taken near the botanical gardens, and along the roadside. This patch was just next to the local parking lot and shanties vending various food items. It was a very disturbed location and could have easily been without any vegetation. However, the small ferns and other small flora were quite pugnacious and were able to make their own way in spite of the disturbance, exhaust fumes and shanty kitchens nearby.
the lone elephant on the road near Ajnala, north of Amritsar, enroute to Ravi River, Punjab June 2010
I had wanted to travel north of Wagah, near Amritsar, and wander along the course of the Ravi River, one of the five Rivers of Indus. This river meanders in and out of India and Pakistan, and it is one of the most fascinating countrysides of our Subcontinent. The villages are desolate, and time seems to stand still in this border region. There are "High Speed Internet Cafe" establishments, alongside small community kitchens attached to local gurudwaras. This is the only obvious activity at high noon along the Ravi River. There was no other traffic, well, almost.
The only other moving 'transport', if you may, apart from our vehicle, on the road near Ajnala, was this lone elephant and its mahout, walking along. It was an absolute surprise, for one would expect such a scene frequently in Kerala, but here, in parched border areas of Punjab, it was out of nowhere. I asked my driver to slow down, and we followed the elephant for some distance, taking photographs, of course. My driver's guess was that the elephant belonged to some local sadhu or 'dera' in the vicinity, and was traveling to a location elsewhere, in time for the sadhu who would reach later to deliver some local sermons.
I was tempted to ask the mahout, but thought the better of it, for it was hot, extremely hot. At least in the upper 30s deg C, and I wondered about the torture for the elephant. We looked about if there was any other traffic on the roads, and there was none nearby. This must indeed be one of those happenstances, where you tumble upon something so tremendously different, unexpected and absolutely out of place. I had to drive past to reach the city of Beas and the River. So, it was goodbye to this lone elephant on the border roads between India and Pakistan.
The only other moving 'transport', if you may, apart from our vehicle, on the road near Ajnala, was this lone elephant and its mahout, walking along. It was an absolute surprise, for one would expect such a scene frequently in Kerala, but here, in parched border areas of Punjab, it was out of nowhere. I asked my driver to slow down, and we followed the elephant for some distance, taking photographs, of course. My driver's guess was that the elephant belonged to some local sadhu or 'dera' in the vicinity, and was traveling to a location elsewhere, in time for the sadhu who would reach later to deliver some local sermons.
I was tempted to ask the mahout, but thought the better of it, for it was hot, extremely hot. At least in the upper 30s deg C, and I wondered about the torture for the elephant. We looked about if there was any other traffic on the roads, and there was none nearby. This must indeed be one of those happenstances, where you tumble upon something so tremendously different, unexpected and absolutely out of place. I had to drive past to reach the city of Beas and the River. So, it was goodbye to this lone elephant on the border roads between India and Pakistan.
absolutely clean countryside, villages and towns - from Katunayake to Ratnapura - Sri Lanka, July 2011
One of the most pleasant aspects of a visit to Sri Lanka is the cleanliness that hits you abruptly, all over the countryside, the rural and mofussil roads, small villages and towns and in restaurants and village markets. I think I have more than a 1000 photographs of the Sri Lankan countryside, and when I keep surfing through the lot, I am amazed that every single location was excellently clean. They do not seem to be going about cleaning the place. I think, the secret is simple. They do not dirty the place, and therefore it does stay clean.
This photograph is from July 2011, on an early morning drive from the Katunayake town after exiting the airport. We did not go in to Colombo, but drove right out towards Ratnapura. We came across excellent roads, narrow but quite safe, even if the opposite traffic was fast. Nobody was running across the streets, and there was no stray cattle. I wonder how they managed that. Women were walking about, briskly, near Katunayake, or alighting from buses, to get to their workplaces. Amazingly, we saw mostly women go about to get to their work near Katunayake. We did not see groups of men walking to get anywhere.
In the smaller towns, it was the elder women and men going about doing shopping for groceries and vegetables. The younger men and women were not to be seen in the day time. With all the initiatives to get India to look and be cleaner, and to sustain those activities, I think, we could learn from Sri Lanka, and learn how to ensure that our efforts do not go in vain. The garbage must be the same, i.e., plastic bags, house waste, office garbage and whatever. It must be in the attitude, that one would not dirty their local areas and neighbourhoods.
This photograph is from July 2011, on an early morning drive from the Katunayake town after exiting the airport. We did not go in to Colombo, but drove right out towards Ratnapura. We came across excellent roads, narrow but quite safe, even if the opposite traffic was fast. Nobody was running across the streets, and there was no stray cattle. I wonder how they managed that. Women were walking about, briskly, near Katunayake, or alighting from buses, to get to their workplaces. Amazingly, we saw mostly women go about to get to their work near Katunayake. We did not see groups of men walking to get anywhere.
In the smaller towns, it was the elder women and men going about doing shopping for groceries and vegetables. The younger men and women were not to be seen in the day time. With all the initiatives to get India to look and be cleaner, and to sustain those activities, I think, we could learn from Sri Lanka, and learn how to ensure that our efforts do not go in vain. The garbage must be the same, i.e., plastic bags, house waste, office garbage and whatever. It must be in the attitude, that one would not dirty their local areas and neighbourhoods.
the paradox of development - bringing in water to a city with its own immense water catchment and watershed - at Thane, north of Mumbai, Maharashtra
The city of Mumbai and its adjoining suburbs are no longer a metropolis. It is now a megapolis. The two divisions of Mumbai district, and the 18++ cities north of the district, in Thane and Raigad districts are one of the world's largest urban conglomerations. Perhaps, it is the world's largest ever in terms of population density, total population and ground area coverage. Moreover, this is also the world's fastest growing urban area, with buildings growing taller and small mini-cities becoming more intensely dense. Some buildings have about 12-15 floors of parking, before one can reach the apartments.
Thane, Kalyan-Dombivili and Ulhasnagar are, to use the cliche, choc-a-bloc, next to each other. One pavement belongs to one city, while the other pavement of the same road belongs to the other. These suburban areas, now major cities on their own right, have hill ranges around them, and within them. This is something that Mumbai does not have adequately. The entire water for Mumbai comes from dams in the Western Ghats beyond Thane city and along the Thane-Pune-Nashik ridges. But, if one would have planned right, and understood the drainage patterns and aquifer strength of the hills and watershed within Thane and Kalyan areas, the sustainable strength of these hills would have been clearly known.
Today, one can actually see huge pipelines transporting water past the suburbs of Thane and the outskirts of Kalyan, with huge housing colonies in the shadow of some of the best water catchment and storage potential areas. Thus, it is the rural and forest communities elsewhere who have to discard their rights over their forest lands in order to store water for the new and rapid growth of urban clusters of Mumbai and Thane. Remember, all well meaning activists and residents of Mumbai who get worked up over the destruction of environment - every single apartment building and institution in the megapolis survives by drowning the Sahyadri forests and slopes. Every single one.
Thane, Kalyan-Dombivili and Ulhasnagar are, to use the cliche, choc-a-bloc, next to each other. One pavement belongs to one city, while the other pavement of the same road belongs to the other. These suburban areas, now major cities on their own right, have hill ranges around them, and within them. This is something that Mumbai does not have adequately. The entire water for Mumbai comes from dams in the Western Ghats beyond Thane city and along the Thane-Pune-Nashik ridges. But, if one would have planned right, and understood the drainage patterns and aquifer strength of the hills and watershed within Thane and Kalyan areas, the sustainable strength of these hills would have been clearly known.
Today, one can actually see huge pipelines transporting water past the suburbs of Thane and the outskirts of Kalyan, with huge housing colonies in the shadow of some of the best water catchment and storage potential areas. Thus, it is the rural and forest communities elsewhere who have to discard their rights over their forest lands in order to store water for the new and rapid growth of urban clusters of Mumbai and Thane. Remember, all well meaning activists and residents of Mumbai who get worked up over the destruction of environment - every single apartment building and institution in the megapolis survives by drowning the Sahyadri forests and slopes. Every single one.
the hidden Saraswati River at the Adi Badri temple, where the sage Veda Vyasa wrote the Srimad Bhagavatam - border of Haryana and Himachal Pradesh
Long long ago, before the current network of roads and railways, it was natural topography that helped delineate roads and transport and movement across the Indian Subcontinent. One of the most prominent gateways to the Himalayas, ie Haridwar and Rishikesh, did not have their access from Meerut and other routes from New Delhi as it is today. The historical entrance during the times of the Mahabharata was from Adi Badri and Adi Kedar temples that are located north of the Kurukshetra battlefield. As their names suggest, these temples that were at the frontline of the lower Himalayas and the river plains, helped people plan their pilgrimages to Badrinath and Kedarnath.
It is said that after the great battle of Kurukshetra, the sage Veda Vyasa was disturbed over how the future generations would perceive the role of Krishna in the Mahabharata, and about the reasons why brothers would kill brothers and families would destroy families. He was not content with being a central catalyst in the epic that he wrote, as he was also one of the mainstays of the various turnabouts in each generation. Without him, there would have been no Chitrangada, Vichitravirya or Vidura. He realised that the aspect of Krishna, and the aspect of victory of dharma would have to be explained differently.
So he retreated northwards of Kurukshetra to Adi Badri and wrote out the eighteen volumes of the Srimad Bhagavatam, and the holistic and most comprehensive aspects of Shri Krishna, delving into various aspects of dharma and humanistic values. As he sat down to write, as the locals explained to me, he could not concentrate, for the fall of the Saraswati River over the gigantic mesa was very vigorous and energetic, and the sound was extremely overwhelming. So, he requested the Saraswati River to quieten down and flow through the great mountain at the location, and search out an underground terrain for herself. The Saraswati River is thought to have acceded to the request for she understood the importance of retelling the aspects of Shri Krishna.
It is at this location that the river is thought to have disappeared, as the ancient tale suggests. I have visited the temple on various occasions and stayed overnight with the local sages and wondered at the most splendid forests around. The morning dawn is not to be seen at any other location along the Himalayas and the beauty of the place takes over all your expectations. Various sages and Sankaracharyas over the years have come to offer their salutations to Adi Badri, the Lord Vishnu, cast in black rock at the temple. This is a place where veritably, myth, epic, nature, water, religion, devotion, journeys and mystery come together.
It is said that after the great battle of Kurukshetra, the sage Veda Vyasa was disturbed over how the future generations would perceive the role of Krishna in the Mahabharata, and about the reasons why brothers would kill brothers and families would destroy families. He was not content with being a central catalyst in the epic that he wrote, as he was also one of the mainstays of the various turnabouts in each generation. Without him, there would have been no Chitrangada, Vichitravirya or Vidura. He realised that the aspect of Krishna, and the aspect of victory of dharma would have to be explained differently.
So he retreated northwards of Kurukshetra to Adi Badri and wrote out the eighteen volumes of the Srimad Bhagavatam, and the holistic and most comprehensive aspects of Shri Krishna, delving into various aspects of dharma and humanistic values. As he sat down to write, as the locals explained to me, he could not concentrate, for the fall of the Saraswati River over the gigantic mesa was very vigorous and energetic, and the sound was extremely overwhelming. So, he requested the Saraswati River to quieten down and flow through the great mountain at the location, and search out an underground terrain for herself. The Saraswati River is thought to have acceded to the request for she understood the importance of retelling the aspects of Shri Krishna.
It is at this location that the river is thought to have disappeared, as the ancient tale suggests. I have visited the temple on various occasions and stayed overnight with the local sages and wondered at the most splendid forests around. The morning dawn is not to be seen at any other location along the Himalayas and the beauty of the place takes over all your expectations. Various sages and Sankaracharyas over the years have come to offer their salutations to Adi Badri, the Lord Vishnu, cast in black rock at the temple. This is a place where veritably, myth, epic, nature, water, religion, devotion, journeys and mystery come together.
tired after a day-long pilgrim walk by hundreds of thousands of devotees, resting silently - at Velapur, Solapur District, Maharashtra
The wari is a tradition that has been truly Maharashtrian, mainly Deccan, for more than 400 years and more. The dedicated devotees in the wari, are the warkaris, and they consider God as the ultimate truth and accept that all humans are ultimately equal. Being a warkari requires dedication beyond devotion, and includes appropriate ethical and moral behaviour and lifestyle. The great walk from Dehu and Alandi to Pandharpur is perhaps one of the largest voluntary congregations of humans in the world in a region for a considerable number of days.
Velapur is an important staging point for the Sant Dnyaneshwar palkhi that comes from Alandi via Pune and went ahead to Pandharpur, crossing more than 220 kilometres, in time for the Ashaadh Ekadashi. Lakhs (ie hundreds of thousands) of warkaris who walk all the way to Pandharpur, come to rest at mid-route at Velapur. During the monsoon, the camping grounds at Velapur is slushy, in pouring rain, and there is hardly any adequate electricity or sanitation at the premises. But, they come silently and organise themselves in neat quadrants, and keep chanting their prayers until about midnight. Soon after, the half a million or more pilgrims rest it out, sleeping or praying, silently.
The entire camping ground is taken over, methodically, with tents coming up and water tanks filled up. There is no confusion and there is no chaos. This photograph was taken sometime after midnight, with the pilgrims resting silently, and an enormous calm filling the camping ground. Sometimes it rained, and the pilgrims just shrugged it off, pulling out plastic sheets and covering themselves. Even the rain seemed to be like a blessing.
Velapur is an important staging point for the Sant Dnyaneshwar palkhi that comes from Alandi via Pune and went ahead to Pandharpur, crossing more than 220 kilometres, in time for the Ashaadh Ekadashi. Lakhs (ie hundreds of thousands) of warkaris who walk all the way to Pandharpur, come to rest at mid-route at Velapur. During the monsoon, the camping grounds at Velapur is slushy, in pouring rain, and there is hardly any adequate electricity or sanitation at the premises. But, they come silently and organise themselves in neat quadrants, and keep chanting their prayers until about midnight. Soon after, the half a million or more pilgrims rest it out, sleeping or praying, silently.
The entire camping ground is taken over, methodically, with tents coming up and water tanks filled up. There is no confusion and there is no chaos. This photograph was taken sometime after midnight, with the pilgrims resting silently, and an enormous calm filling the camping ground. Sometimes it rained, and the pilgrims just shrugged it off, pulling out plastic sheets and covering themselves. Even the rain seemed to be like a blessing.
the clouds came to rest alongside the flowing alaknanda as dusk took over the valley - at Karnaprayag to Devprayag, Uttarakhand
Dusk comes up quite suddenly in the Himalayas, and there does not seem to be any difference between winter or summer at night. We were driving back, from Karnaprayag to Rudraprayag, to go ahead to Devprayag and on to Rishikesh, some years back. Barely 4.30 pm at Karnaprayag, a traffic jam delayed us as we crossed across the Alaknanda River. And by 5.15 pm, it was beginning to darken, and a drizzle had started fogging up the road. The vehicles in front of us were our only guide to understanding the dimension of the road, and the dangerous slopes to the valleys below.
The Alaknanda River goes all alongside the road from Karnaprayag to Rudraprayag, and then keeps going away and coming back up to Devprayag. As we drove slowly alongside the river, a beautiful panorama was playing out. All the clouds seemed to come down the higher slopes of the mountains, and by 6 pm, they were below the road. A bit later, and some kilometres further, one could see the clouds coming to rest all over the river, and soon enough, the river was not to be seen. We could only guess that it was the river, because of the clouds resting over it.
It is said that Parvati, is thus known, because she is forever the Goddess of the Parvat, ie the Himalayas, and she would never want to leave the embrace of the mountains, who are her parents. And as I watched, it seemed like the Goddess came down silently, etherally, gently descending, and came to embrace her sister, the river, and that they rested peacefully at dusk within the valleys of the Himalayas. I looked above, the peaks shone in the moonlight, and one could be assured that Maheshwara, or Gangadhara himself, looked down and was pleased.
The Alaknanda River goes all alongside the road from Karnaprayag to Rudraprayag, and then keeps going away and coming back up to Devprayag. As we drove slowly alongside the river, a beautiful panorama was playing out. All the clouds seemed to come down the higher slopes of the mountains, and by 6 pm, they were below the road. A bit later, and some kilometres further, one could see the clouds coming to rest all over the river, and soon enough, the river was not to be seen. We could only guess that it was the river, because of the clouds resting over it.
It is said that Parvati, is thus known, because she is forever the Goddess of the Parvat, ie the Himalayas, and she would never want to leave the embrace of the mountains, who are her parents. And as I watched, it seemed like the Goddess came down silently, etherally, gently descending, and came to embrace her sister, the river, and that they rested peacefully at dusk within the valleys of the Himalayas. I looked above, the peaks shone in the moonlight, and one could be assured that Maheshwara, or Gangadhara himself, looked down and was pleased.
a perfectly clean tea stall at Mamaleshwar, near Omkareshwar on the Narmada River, Madhya Pradesh
I have been to perhaps hundred or more roadside tea stalls all over India, and some have been a favorite place to return to, whenever I am in that city. There are only a very few that serve perfect tea, exactly spiced, and with the correct flavor. Further, there are only the rarest roadside tea stalls that are clean and take the trouble to keep cleaning the premises through the day. Then, there are perhaps the very best that is also brilliantly clean, with perfect tea, clean premises and a very decent chaiwalla. This rarity was just opposite the Mamaleshwar Jyotirlinga Temple on the Narmada River at Omkareshwar in Madhya Pradesh.
What was most striking was that all the vessels shone, and shone brilliantly. All the glasses were clean, and spotless. The tea kettle was shining and the nozzle was perfectly clear. The tea kettles in most other shops are not worth examining if you do not want to miss their cup of tea. The gas stove was also perfectly cleaned up. The entire shop was quite decent and had been cleaned at noon. Amazingly, the sun light was reflecting off the copper and stainless steel vessels and creating an illusion of splendid lumination within the shop. The photograph has done justice to that moment, I think.
I chatted with the chaiwalla, if I may call him thus, and enquired about the cleanliness. He replied that it was his responsibility to be thus, as he was always under the shadow of the Mamaleshwar temple. Which in fact, was true, for the shadow of the temple was over the tea stall. He said that he was forever blessed by Mamaleshwar himself, and thus had a duty to convey his blessings to all pilgrims who would come by.
The cup of tea was perfect, except that he began to serve me in the paper cup. I passed it on to others accompanying me, and requested mine in a glass. Nothing can beat the taste of roadside chaiwalla's tea in a glass or in a cup and saucer. Even if it would be grubby, which it was not at this shop.
What was most striking was that all the vessels shone, and shone brilliantly. All the glasses were clean, and spotless. The tea kettle was shining and the nozzle was perfectly clear. The tea kettles in most other shops are not worth examining if you do not want to miss their cup of tea. The gas stove was also perfectly cleaned up. The entire shop was quite decent and had been cleaned at noon. Amazingly, the sun light was reflecting off the copper and stainless steel vessels and creating an illusion of splendid lumination within the shop. The photograph has done justice to that moment, I think.
I chatted with the chaiwalla, if I may call him thus, and enquired about the cleanliness. He replied that it was his responsibility to be thus, as he was always under the shadow of the Mamaleshwar temple. Which in fact, was true, for the shadow of the temple was over the tea stall. He said that he was forever blessed by Mamaleshwar himself, and thus had a duty to convey his blessings to all pilgrims who would come by.
The cup of tea was perfect, except that he began to serve me in the paper cup. I passed it on to others accompanying me, and requested mine in a glass. Nothing can beat the taste of roadside chaiwalla's tea in a glass or in a cup and saucer. Even if it would be grubby, which it was not at this shop.
ragi sevai upma with coconut milk veg stew - best of the best in my list - at home in Pune
We had been on a pilgrimage, together as a family, to Sri Ramana Maharshi's ashram in Tiruvannamalai and fortunately, were able to stay within the premises in their guest house. All resident pilgrims are allowed to partake in the dining facilities. One of the most significant aspects of the menu was the regular or frequent use of vermicelli in different recipes for dinner. This struck as most appropriate for a light dinner at home, back in Pune.
On our return, we began experimenting with vermicelli or semiya or sevai, and combined the dishes with various types of stews, curries, vegetables and chutneys. Luckily, vermicelli is also available in different types - thin, thick, small bits and long strands, and most deliciously, also in ragi variety. The ragi variety was the most amenable to all experiments, and we had a great time bringing forth and appreciating our own results.
One of the combinations was a very lightly spiced ragi sevai upma, tempered with extra strong curry leaves (from our Lonavala home compound, freshly picked) and coriander and ginger+garlic paste. If you would have been nearby, you would have got the odour from at least two houses away. The curry or stew, heavily dunked in coconut milk, but combined with some pungent leftover curd and sauteed, brought forth an exceedingly worth-it type of aroma and taste. The best action was in dunking the hot ragi sevai upma in to the steaming hot spicy coconut milk stew, at near midnight, before a Sunday morning. Nothing could get past that blessing of having a light dinner but a very heavy and happy satisfaction of a good experiment.
All thanks to the missus and the daughter for their enthusiasm and support to each other.
[Ragi = finger millets, sevai or semiya = vermicelli or thin traditional type of pasta, upma = sort of a thick porridge]
On our return, we began experimenting with vermicelli or semiya or sevai, and combined the dishes with various types of stews, curries, vegetables and chutneys. Luckily, vermicelli is also available in different types - thin, thick, small bits and long strands, and most deliciously, also in ragi variety. The ragi variety was the most amenable to all experiments, and we had a great time bringing forth and appreciating our own results.
One of the combinations was a very lightly spiced ragi sevai upma, tempered with extra strong curry leaves (from our Lonavala home compound, freshly picked) and coriander and ginger+garlic paste. If you would have been nearby, you would have got the odour from at least two houses away. The curry or stew, heavily dunked in coconut milk, but combined with some pungent leftover curd and sauteed, brought forth an exceedingly worth-it type of aroma and taste. The best action was in dunking the hot ragi sevai upma in to the steaming hot spicy coconut milk stew, at near midnight, before a Sunday morning. Nothing could get past that blessing of having a light dinner but a very heavy and happy satisfaction of a good experiment.
All thanks to the missus and the daughter for their enthusiasm and support to each other.
[Ragi = finger millets, sevai or semiya = vermicelli or thin traditional type of pasta, upma = sort of a thick porridge]
gigantic urli in the temple courtyard of the elephant village at Punnathur Kotta, near Guruvayoor, Kerala
Urli is a round flat bottomed vessel made in copper, bronze, stone or clay, usually in south India, and used for cooking or decorative purposes. One usually sees Urlis in small or medium sizes, rarely more than four feet in diameter. But this one took my breath away. I came upon it suddenly, and it was the only item in the temple courtyard at Punnathur Kotta. There seemed to have been an attempt to grow lilies or lotus blooms in it but it did not seem to have succeeded.
Punnathur Kotta is an elephant village, housing more than fifty elephants easily. It is located barely 3-5 kms near Guruvayoor, the well known temple to Shri Krishna, in Kerala. The elephants at Punnathur Kotta are regular participants of the temple festivals at Guruvayoor and Thrissur. This temple within the Kotta is almost like a museum but does not have anything remarkable for pilgrims or tourists to linger about and appreciate fully.
I took a series of photographs of this gigantic urli, and kept moving about to get a proper perspective behind the large vessel, to compose the picture. At that moment, I realised that I was the only person moving about this place, and all the other hundreds of pilgrims and tourists were happily moving about the elephants outside the temple. It was silent except for the sounds of trumpeting elephants and the calls of crows, mynas and babblers. Taking advantage, I sat there quietly for some time, just listening to the sounds coming in to the courtyard, with the silent urli as my only witness.
Punnathur Kotta is an elephant village, housing more than fifty elephants easily. It is located barely 3-5 kms near Guruvayoor, the well known temple to Shri Krishna, in Kerala. The elephants at Punnathur Kotta are regular participants of the temple festivals at Guruvayoor and Thrissur. This temple within the Kotta is almost like a museum but does not have anything remarkable for pilgrims or tourists to linger about and appreciate fully.
I took a series of photographs of this gigantic urli, and kept moving about to get a proper perspective behind the large vessel, to compose the picture. At that moment, I realised that I was the only person moving about this place, and all the other hundreds of pilgrims and tourists were happily moving about the elephants outside the temple. It was silent except for the sounds of trumpeting elephants and the calls of crows, mynas and babblers. Taking advantage, I sat there quietly for some time, just listening to the sounds coming in to the courtyard, with the silent urli as my only witness.
the center of the subcontinent - the confluence of the Indravati River and the Godavari River at Somnur, near Sirroncha, Gadchiroli district, Maharashtra
There are indeed some places that are close by to most travelers and explorers, and yet unvisited, or unexplored or not thought of. The most remarkable of such locations is the confluence of the Indravati River and the mighty Godavari River. This is at a very remote and difficult to reach location called Somnur, near the southernmost tip of Gadchiroli district at Sirroncha. One can drive south east from Sirroncha towards Somnur and then walk it up to the most magical and most remarkable locations in India.
It also depends on when you are visiting, ie what time of the year. I am told that each month is different, and very starkly different. Winter is most beautiful, and the monsoon is most energetic. Summers are horrendous and if you want to walk on the sands of the Godavari River, you must have lost it in the head, if you do so in April or May. But, most autumn, spring and winter months are beautiful and one must visit this location, for sure, in ones' lifetime.
Sighting the confluence of the Indravati and the Godavari, and taking in the entire span in a panoramic view is equal to that of sighting a tiger or elephant in wilderness. Just the view, from north to east, to south to west, standing in one spot, is like looking at an arc of nearly 80 kilometres of thick forests, wild river beds, scrub forests, crop lands, and hills and mesa-like plateaus. And through this entire panorama, there is no village, no town, no road and no bridge. As yet. And when you realise that such locations do exist, you are overcome by the zen like wave of happiness, that brought me to my knees right there. I just sat down and allowed myself to drink in the entire moment.
It also depends on when you are visiting, ie what time of the year. I am told that each month is different, and very starkly different. Winter is most beautiful, and the monsoon is most energetic. Summers are horrendous and if you want to walk on the sands of the Godavari River, you must have lost it in the head, if you do so in April or May. But, most autumn, spring and winter months are beautiful and one must visit this location, for sure, in ones' lifetime.
Sighting the confluence of the Indravati and the Godavari, and taking in the entire span in a panoramic view is equal to that of sighting a tiger or elephant in wilderness. Just the view, from north to east, to south to west, standing in one spot, is like looking at an arc of nearly 80 kilometres of thick forests, wild river beds, scrub forests, crop lands, and hills and mesa-like plateaus. And through this entire panorama, there is no village, no town, no road and no bridge. As yet. And when you realise that such locations do exist, you are overcome by the zen like wave of happiness, that brought me to my knees right there. I just sat down and allowed myself to drink in the entire moment.
the ritual of sipping tea early in the morning at Dwarka, Gujarat
I was traveling from Somnath Jyotirlinga Temple to Nageshwar Jyotirlinga Temple and on to Dwarka Bet and Dwarka Shri Krishna Temple before returning to Mumbai via Jamnagar. A night halt at Dwarka was a must if one wanted to walk about within the Dwarka temple and adjacent streets at night. Its an entirely different world out there, from the morning prayers and darshan. The narrow lanes around the temple change completely.
But, early dawn is something else, altogether. Its only about breakfast and before that, its about sipping tea at the various pavement stalls at the inner city and near the temple. Everyone you see, tourists, pilgrims, car drivers, local vendors, policemen, priests and anyone else that I may have left out, is walking about slowly, ambling actually, deliberately to these pushcart tea stalls. There is no dialogue and no talk. The tea maestro, if I may indulge thus, silently pours out the tea in good or grubby cups and saucers. Each person picks up a cup and saucer, stands aside and takes the first sip and says, 'aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh' with selfish delight and happiness.
Then comes the traditional Junagadh to Rajkot to Jamnagar to Dwarka to Porbandar trademark style of sipping tea. The hot steaming cup of tea is poured out on the saucer, and it is sipped, with a splendid slurping sound. It has to be thus, and no other way. My man friday for Jamnagar-Somnath-Nageshwar, my good friend, Virambhai, did just that. And he enjoyed it. After a couple of photographs, I picked up my cup of tea, poured it out on the saucer, and had my very splendid moment of zen like bliss, when I slurped and sipped and slurped and sipped with some bit of noise. Virambhai looked back at me, and smiled in delight, and I smiled back with schoolboy happiness.
But, early dawn is something else, altogether. Its only about breakfast and before that, its about sipping tea at the various pavement stalls at the inner city and near the temple. Everyone you see, tourists, pilgrims, car drivers, local vendors, policemen, priests and anyone else that I may have left out, is walking about slowly, ambling actually, deliberately to these pushcart tea stalls. There is no dialogue and no talk. The tea maestro, if I may indulge thus, silently pours out the tea in good or grubby cups and saucers. Each person picks up a cup and saucer, stands aside and takes the first sip and says, 'aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh' with selfish delight and happiness.
Then comes the traditional Junagadh to Rajkot to Jamnagar to Dwarka to Porbandar trademark style of sipping tea. The hot steaming cup of tea is poured out on the saucer, and it is sipped, with a splendid slurping sound. It has to be thus, and no other way. My man friday for Jamnagar-Somnath-Nageshwar, my good friend, Virambhai, did just that. And he enjoyed it. After a couple of photographs, I picked up my cup of tea, poured it out on the saucer, and had my very splendid moment of zen like bliss, when I slurped and sipped and slurped and sipped with some bit of noise. Virambhai looked back at me, and smiled in delight, and I smiled back with schoolboy happiness.
this nation belongs to these school girls who keep walking daily in the Himalayas - near Rudraprayag, Uttarakhand
I am always amazed to see school kids, especially school girls, in excellently turned out school uniforms, all the way from northern Uttarkashi ie Yamnotri in the west through the Himalayas to Sikkim and Dibrugarh in the east. One can spot them early in the morning, walking in the biting cold, dressed up smartly, trekking at least 2 to 10 kms daily - one way - and back, to reach their school without fail.
They walk alongside fast moving traffic, risking eve teasers and various other problems. Most of them, of all ages, carry heavy school bags, and yet look quite happy and cheerful. They put to shame, all the urban school children, who need school buses, or their parents or chauffeurs or whosoever, to drop them and pick them back from school. India belongs to these courageous and brave girls of the Himalayas.
At least, on two locations, one at Khansali, in Yamnotri, and later, near Karnaprayag, I was able to meet them very early in the morning. I was wearing at least three layers of warm clothes, and I was totally humbled by a tiny tyke, possibly about 8 years old, in excellent school uniform and seemingly proud of it, with splendid creases, and a heavy school bag. This small lady of India, all of 8 years old, did not have any warm clothes on her. She was smiling and glowing, and I am sure, that some time in the future, we will hear about her and be happy about our India.
This photograph is from the highway between Devprayag and Rudraprayag, before Srinagar, in Uttarakhand.
They walk alongside fast moving traffic, risking eve teasers and various other problems. Most of them, of all ages, carry heavy school bags, and yet look quite happy and cheerful. They put to shame, all the urban school children, who need school buses, or their parents or chauffeurs or whosoever, to drop them and pick them back from school. India belongs to these courageous and brave girls of the Himalayas.
At least, on two locations, one at Khansali, in Yamnotri, and later, near Karnaprayag, I was able to meet them very early in the morning. I was wearing at least three layers of warm clothes, and I was totally humbled by a tiny tyke, possibly about 8 years old, in excellent school uniform and seemingly proud of it, with splendid creases, and a heavy school bag. This small lady of India, all of 8 years old, did not have any warm clothes on her. She was smiling and glowing, and I am sure, that some time in the future, we will hear about her and be happy about our India.
This photograph is from the highway between Devprayag and Rudraprayag, before Srinagar, in Uttarakhand.
the sacred mountain pass behind the Malavli Fort - Dudhiware Khind near Lonavala, on the road to Pawana in Maval, Maharashtra
There is a delightful motorable road behind Lonavala, after Walvan and Nangargaon towards the Pawana Dam. This road goes below the Mumbai Pune Expressway and climbs suddenly, very rapidly and alarmingly, through an abrupt escarpment. Before you know it, you are at the most delightful mountain pass that you would never have expected, if you are a regular traveler on the expressway or on the Mumbai Pune highway. Most trekkers and climbers on the Western Ghats know this pass, and they do encounter it with happiness when going towards the Malavli fort.
I first came up on this pass in late 2007, just after becoming a resident at Nangargaon in Lonavala. After that sudden encounter, I have come to love this road, driving through to Dudhiware village, and to the Vittal Rukmini temple called 'Prati Pandharpur' and on to Kolwan village, where the Chinmay Vibhooti ashram is located, managed by the Sri Chinmayananda group or trust. From Kolwan, you can get off the road and proceed to the Girivan hill resort, that is nearly 300 feet higher than Lonavala. And before Kolwan, one can drive slowly along the Pawana lake banks, and take a million photographs, depending on the time of the day.
The Dudhiware Khind, or the Dudhiware Pass, as it is called, is just before the Dudhiware village. The word 'Khind' is meant to signify a 'sacred pass'. This would probably because there could have been a battle of some sort, and some local warriors would have achieved martyrdom. Thus, a mountain pass becomes known as 'Khind' in the Western Ghats. Immediately after the pass, one can drive up or walk or cycle up to the Malavli fort, and get a good local family to provide for the best cuisine that one can enjoy, but, of course, thats another story.
I first came up on this pass in late 2007, just after becoming a resident at Nangargaon in Lonavala. After that sudden encounter, I have come to love this road, driving through to Dudhiware village, and to the Vittal Rukmini temple called 'Prati Pandharpur' and on to Kolwan village, where the Chinmay Vibhooti ashram is located, managed by the Sri Chinmayananda group or trust. From Kolwan, you can get off the road and proceed to the Girivan hill resort, that is nearly 300 feet higher than Lonavala. And before Kolwan, one can drive slowly along the Pawana lake banks, and take a million photographs, depending on the time of the day.
The Dudhiware Khind, or the Dudhiware Pass, as it is called, is just before the Dudhiware village. The word 'Khind' is meant to signify a 'sacred pass'. This would probably because there could have been a battle of some sort, and some local warriors would have achieved martyrdom. Thus, a mountain pass becomes known as 'Khind' in the Western Ghats. Immediately after the pass, one can drive up or walk or cycle up to the Malavli fort, and get a good local family to provide for the best cuisine that one can enjoy, but, of course, thats another story.
the big banyan tree on the Bengaluru to Mysuru highway, Karnataka
There is a cut off on the Bengaluru to Mysuru highway, to a village nearby. The big banyan tree as it is actually called, is located here, barely within an hour's drive out from Bengaluru. Its quite 'big', and spread out over nearly 2 acres of land, I think. The main trunk is in the centre of the plot that is protected, beautified and managed, by strangely, the Bank of Maharashtra. Way down south, in Karnataka, no other bank or corporate entity or institution thought it appropriate to protect this natural wealth, except for the Bank of Maharashtra. Its certainly a paradox given the numerous events that take place up in north Karnataka.
The tree is quite beautiful and well protected. The various roots are protected with small guards and are weighted down at places to ensure that it takes root properly. Thankfully, the garden fencing is clean, and the visiting tourists are not scattering plastic bags or other garbage around. There are some scratches of "I love you" etc on some trunks and roots, but other than that, there does not seem to be any other visible vandalism.
There are macaques, at least 2 troops, and plenty of birds. Mynas, parakeets, barbets, crows at the fence, and babblers. I could not spot more in my short visit. Children were moving about, and the vendors outside were only selling tender coconuts and boiled groundnuts. So, that was quite safe. There is a small decent and very polite board that explains that the project is protected and managed by the Bank of Maharashtra. I felt very proud of that, coming from Pune. Strangely, there were very few tourists, compared to the huge numbers moving between Bengaluru and Mysuru.
Snow and rain proof multi-storeyed houses at Kharsali village, near Yamnotri, District Uttarkashi, Uttarakhand
We had gone up to Yamnotri as part of the Great Himalayan Bird Count in November 2009. The route was - briefly - Dehra Dun to Mussoorie to Barkot to Hanuman Chatti to Yamnotri. The route from Dehra Dun to Mussoorie to Barkot took us a day, and the next day's drive brought us to Yamnotri by late noon. I took the help of the local forest staff to hire a mule and rode up to the Yamnotri temple on the same post-noon daylight that was left. After a quick darshan, since the temple had been shut for the winter, we returned barely before darkness engulfed the path and made it dangerous.
Next day, we walked across the just born Yamuna river, by an age-old suspension bridge, and went up to Kharsali Village. Some sages at the Yamnotri temple and the forest guards had told us that the Goddess was kept in safe keeping for the winter at the Kharsali Village. The head priest of the temple up at Yamnotri, stayed at Kharsali, and was conducting daily prayers. So we walked up a mud embankment and went to meet the priest.
The Kharsali village looked like one had stepped back in time. The architecture, materials, wood, design, and the methods adopted for snowproofing their houses, and protecting against heavy rainfall was quite unique. Possibly most of the upper Himalaya areas were similar but I had not seen such house design before. Some houses were multi-storyed, some at least five storeys tall, with the bottom two for domestic livestock and storage space for hay and firewood.
This one particular house was impressive. It was in a courtyard of at least 3-4 houses, each one quite different from each other, and possibly built at different times. But, all houses seemed to be very ancient. I hope this village does not get to become modern very soon and one is able to return and visit the place with more time at hand.
Next day, we walked across the just born Yamuna river, by an age-old suspension bridge, and went up to Kharsali Village. Some sages at the Yamnotri temple and the forest guards had told us that the Goddess was kept in safe keeping for the winter at the Kharsali Village. The head priest of the temple up at Yamnotri, stayed at Kharsali, and was conducting daily prayers. So we walked up a mud embankment and went to meet the priest.
The Kharsali village looked like one had stepped back in time. The architecture, materials, wood, design, and the methods adopted for snowproofing their houses, and protecting against heavy rainfall was quite unique. Possibly most of the upper Himalaya areas were similar but I had not seen such house design before. Some houses were multi-storyed, some at least five storeys tall, with the bottom two for domestic livestock and storage space for hay and firewood.
This one particular house was impressive. It was in a courtyard of at least 3-4 houses, each one quite different from each other, and possibly built at different times. But, all houses seemed to be very ancient. I hope this village does not get to become modern very soon and one is able to return and visit the place with more time at hand.
medicinal plant parts being sold at Bhimashankar Jyotirlinga temple, Western Ghats, near Junnar, Pune District, Maharashtra
The Bhimashankar temple on the Western Ghats is one of the twelve Jyotirlinga temples in India, on the pilgrimage path to Shiva. High up on the escarpment of the Western Ghats, one can reach it from the Pune-Nashik Highway, or from the west, via Murbad from Kalyan. My second visit to the temple was sometime in September 2009, with Dr. Neetin Desai and Dr. Amar Supate and others. We reached at night, nearer to Bhimashankar and stayed in a rest house on the plains, and later, on the morrow, early up, drove right to the temple area. Four of us managed to get in queue to offer the Laghurudrabhishekam. But, thats' another story.
As we came back, trekking up to the parking area, through the forests of the Bhimahshankar wildlife sanctuary, we passed through different stalls that sold medicinal plant parts. Most were labeled very neatly, and there was one that also said that the vendor was the Secretary or President of the ayurvedic vaids assocation of the area. I stood around nearby, and waited to see if people were stopping and enquiring about the medicines. None did.
This must be a dying trade and medicinal form. Most ayurvedic medicines are now mass made in good manufacturing 'factories' and the niche for these traditional and hereditary ayurvedic collectors, processors and medicine manufacturers must be dying out very rapidly. I spoke to some of them but they said that they usually end up collecting some medicines in larger quantities and selling them to known persons only, for these would need to be consumed for 1-2 years to effect a cure. That trade was enough to take care of their survival.
As we came back, trekking up to the parking area, through the forests of the Bhimahshankar wildlife sanctuary, we passed through different stalls that sold medicinal plant parts. Most were labeled very neatly, and there was one that also said that the vendor was the Secretary or President of the ayurvedic vaids assocation of the area. I stood around nearby, and waited to see if people were stopping and enquiring about the medicines. None did.
This must be a dying trade and medicinal form. Most ayurvedic medicines are now mass made in good manufacturing 'factories' and the niche for these traditional and hereditary ayurvedic collectors, processors and medicine manufacturers must be dying out very rapidly. I spoke to some of them but they said that they usually end up collecting some medicines in larger quantities and selling them to known persons only, for these would need to be consumed for 1-2 years to effect a cure. That trade was enough to take care of their survival.
getting inside the tamarind tree and its canopy and locating the magical tamarind in an entirely different zone altogether – somewhere in Ponda, near Panaji, Goa
I had gone on a sudden journey with my daughter, Pritvi, and
we ended up in the most magical balcony on the third or fourth storey of a
forested campus in Ponda. This balcony went right inside the canopy of one of
the most immensely large tamarind tree that I have ever seen. We kept looking
inside this canopy and searching for birds, as an initial instinct.
We found a lot of other happening stuff inside. There were
birds – parakeets, mynas, barbets, sunbirds, babblers, a racket-tailed drongo
and one lone Indian roller. But, these were many, noisy and came in and went
out in gangs. They seemed to come inside the canopy just to stop and gossip and
shout and fight and argue. In some gangs, it seemed like there was one leader,
and everyone listened, but in the most unlikely of birds, the cacophony was
kept only for the moment when they were within the canopy.
And suddenly, there was calm. Through the later noon, and
early evening, there were no birds, no squirrels and no butterflies. It was
peaceful, silent, calm and overwhelmingly green, green and green. It was then,
in that zen moment, that we noticed the tamarind pods, hanging about,
undisturbed and like a silent witness to all that went about within the canopy.
The tamarind pods just seemed to stay there, as if they were silent pillars to
witness all those who went in and journeyed out of the foliage.
We described this scene to back home, and the missus had
just one comment, “Get that tamarind… we can make rasam.” To everyone, their
island of zen, I guess.
a rural hamlet, a lake and splendid countryside on a perfect day – somewhere near Chittoor on the highway towards Chennai, Tamil Nadu
we were driving east from Chittoor, on a sultry Sunday
afternoon, towards Chennai. I had not expected any location would be so
spectacularly splendid and so perfect. We came upon the location quite suddenly,
driving past at more than 80 kmph. The traffic had piled up and slowed us down,
and it was just there, in the post-noon and pre-evening sun, glittering with a
perfect blue sky.
It was a small hamlet, almost rural and almost urban,
possibly ‘rurban’ as the term goes nowadays. The lake must have been a sewage
dump, but the sudden view made it look beautiful. We were driving past, and did
not stop for a closer look. The obvious evidence was the absence of waterbirds
or domestic animals within the waterbody. I could be wrong, though.
The sky made up for all the shortcomings. It had been dark
in the morning at Chittoor, and later, in Chennai, it did rain. But at that
moment, alongside the lake, the sky was perfect, the lake looked good, and the
hamlet seemed washed out to brilliance. The photo, taken by cellphone, at 80
kmph, did forgive all the other problems that could be.
a true friendship between a crow and an elderly cobbler – near the General Post Office, Fort, Mumbai
They seemed to be the most unlikely of friends. The elderly cobbler
located on the pavement near the General Post Office at Fort, Mumbai, looked
like he had made a permanent niche for himself, with his small makeshift shed.
Business nowadays must have been very slow, and he would possibly depend on the
porters and handcart pushers from the local docks. They would have more and
more footwear to repair. Most regular blue collar workers in GPO area, in the
Docks and at Ballard Estate would probably not have footwear that needed
regular repair.
Thus, the elderly cobbler seemed quite relaxed and may have
been able to take a quick shuteye in the afternoon. He must have had his lunch,
packed for him from his home. He had placed his lunch leftovers in a torn up
newspaper and kept it above the shed. The crow must have been waiting for him
and must have been a regular friend, and a daily companion. For, hardly, had he
placed the leftovers, the crow flew in from the tree branches above, and was
eating it up, peacefully and content.
In all that hustle and bustle, and the bumper-to-bumper
traffic, and the horns and sounds, and people rushing by, and general chaos,
these two friends, the crow and the elderly cobbler, had found their own small
island of peace.
a green river runs through my arid lands - possibly near Ghatigaon, south of Gwalior
This photograph is from an airplane window. Possibly north of Dholpur and Morena, as the plane was following NH3 from Mumbai to Gwalior and onwards. Just seemingly near and north of Ghatigaon, I could get this splendid photograph and was immediately reminded of the statement - "how green is my river?" and thought that it was indeed very remarkable for this very green river to run through the absolutely arid lands around it.
One could see arid lands stretching all the way, most probably from Dholpur-Morena to the Chambal valley. And there was this river, in absolute contrast to the arid brown, stark brown countryside. A green corridor, running about in the plains. I doubt if there was enough contour variation for this river to flow properly, but it seemed to do so. I got a series of photographs from the airplane, and the river was an absolute delight. It was green all the way, as far as I could see, and with good tree cover on its banks. One could only imagine the wilderness along with it, and the wild life that one could possibly sight in these places.
I have been to Ghatigaon, during 1983 to 1985, for surveys to sight the great Indian bustard. There used to be a good enough population of GIBs in those years in the Ghatigaon Wildlife Sanctuary. It was quite a largish protected area, much larger than the 22 sq km of the Karera Wildlife Sanctuary in Shivpuri District. Ghatigaon also had a rarely reported leopard, nilgai, cheetal, blackbuck and chinkara. We did spot blackbuck and chinkara, but I was doubtful about the cheetal. There were at least two good wetlands in this region, and otters were certainly reported.
There would have been wolves, jackals, foxes, jungle cats and otters in this river that traveled through the arid and possibly fallow cultivation areas. The one single positive aspect of this photograph seemed to be that of the absence of sugarcane cultivation. The trees could perhaps be of palas, arjuna and albizzia among others.
After clicking the series of these photographs from the airplane, I sat quietly, thinking about the wilderness below, and the river running about. It was the most amazingly peaceful and happy contemplation that I had ever done. Just sitting quietly, alone by myself, amongst all the other passengers, thinking and seeing those otters or the lone fox in the river, and a white breasted waterhen that must be living there, at peace with the world.
best paan ever - on friendship day - dry fruits, gulkand and rose petals with betel leaf at George Cafe, Pune on 7th August
One of the best paanwala magicians can be found outside the age-old George Cafe, at Pune Camp. He must be as old as the George Cafe. My grandfather has frequented the place, and so has my father and his brother. Its one of my favorite places and my daughter loves their biryani. But this post is not about George Cafe. This post is about the paanwala outside the cafe. I have known him for the past twenty years and more, and both the brothers are now quite familiar with me, my preferences for their various types of paans, and the package that I take back home to relish slowly.
7th August was Friendship Day and it was a magical sight at the paan shop. The elder brother had made his usual favorite, paan with supari and all his splendid conjugations, and dry fruits, gulkand (jam-like mix with rose petals), and other goodies. But, since it was friendship day, he had decided to add actual fresh rose petals, and topped off the finish by pinning the paan with an actual rose. It seemed very innovative. I asked him if I could take a photograph, and he answered, "अररे मरवाओगे क्या? मै इतना मीठा à¤ी नहीं हुं!!!" (= Oh... do you want to get me killed? I am not so sweet - meaning - you will destroy my reputation for being a toughie!)
But, he was quite sweet about it and allowed me to take a series of photographs. This particular one was quite good, an he gifted the paan to me. I had another series after that, especially a paan with butter scotch toffee and dry fruits and chocolate wedges, and the regular ones. Got a big packet to take back home and to indulge in over the night. What the... it was friendship day, after all... who am I to argue with on that day? I had to get all those paans for me, for I am usually my best friend.
the inner path at the Arunachala Hill - the inner Girivalam route at Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu
The path around the sacred Arunachala hill at Tiruvannamalai in Tamil Nadu is considered to be one of the most coveted pilgrimage destinations in South India. The circumambulation around the hill is about 15-17 kms, depending on the forays one makes in to the inner path. The local forest department has stopped all pilgrim movement on the inner path, however one can approach it and gaze upon it and return. Amazingly, each time that I came upon the inner path at Arunachala, there was someone hanging about, informing me that pilgrims are not allowed. The forest guards must be more blessed than the pilgrims, if they do use their advantage and move within and complete the girivalam.
Girivalam = path around the mountain (= Giri).
Arunachala = the hill of the dawn sun (= Aruna)
One such meeting point for me with the inner path was at the medicinal plants garden after Simha Teertham and the Draupadi Temple. It looked very tempting but I fought against it. The forest department has stopped pilgrim movement in this path for a very good reason. Most pilgrims and devotees were throwing away plastic bags, waste material, edible food items and also on some occasions, accidentally setting fire to the semi-arid forests.
I sat nearby, and alternately, gazed at the inner path, that seemed to lead away towards the forests, but also seemed to be leading the hill towards me. What if this was the inner path for Arunachala to walk towards me? The entire region is magical. One can come upon several such locations, and at some, one can easily go into a trance. The silhouette of the Arunachala hill is haunting, and very affectionate, if one may so term it in this manner. But, those who have been on this path will know what I mean, when I say that to be just there, on the girivalam path, and to gaze on the sacred Arunachala, is to know that you are bound to it with the affection of Maheshwara himself.
Girivalam = path around the mountain (= Giri).
Arunachala = the hill of the dawn sun (= Aruna)
One such meeting point for me with the inner path was at the medicinal plants garden after Simha Teertham and the Draupadi Temple. It looked very tempting but I fought against it. The forest department has stopped pilgrim movement in this path for a very good reason. Most pilgrims and devotees were throwing away plastic bags, waste material, edible food items and also on some occasions, accidentally setting fire to the semi-arid forests.
I sat nearby, and alternately, gazed at the inner path, that seemed to lead away towards the forests, but also seemed to be leading the hill towards me. What if this was the inner path for Arunachala to walk towards me? The entire region is magical. One can come upon several such locations, and at some, one can easily go into a trance. The silhouette of the Arunachala hill is haunting, and very affectionate, if one may so term it in this manner. But, those who have been on this path will know what I mean, when I say that to be just there, on the girivalam path, and to gaze on the sacred Arunachala, is to know that you are bound to it with the affection of Maheshwara himself.
girls fetching drinking water in arid and drought hit Solapur villages, Maharashtra
It wrenches at the heart. This is an image that one can see anywhere in India, in most rural regions, whether they are arid or drought-hit or otherwise. This was sometime in November 2015, when driving north from Akalkot in Solapur district towards Tuljapur in Osmanabad district, and just after crossing across the Mumbai-Hyderabad Highway.
This is a region that is frequently drought-prone, in spite of good water conservation works, fodder management and an understanding of the local habitat by the people. Several villages have tried good initiatives to conserve their water but they seem to crash when drought takes over.
We were driving by, and I must have seen these girls for only about 5-7 seconds or so. This is a photograph taken by a cellphone camera, while driving by at more than 60 kmph. I took this photograph on an impulse, and wondered about my own actions. What should I do now? For months, I did not post it on Facebook, feeling that it was not right.
One hears about girls not being able to go to school in war zones, terror-struck or fatwah-ridden countries, or amongst refugees. What about our girls in our own safe and secure country? By not taking up initiatives or supporting knowledge transfer to the drought zones, are we not hijacking the future of such splendid and strong girls? Since November 2015, I have got involved in small initiatives and I hope that it would slowly help. But everyone should, on their own, work with their own friends, small networks and lend help and support to others who are actively involved.
Akalkot and Tuljapur are eminent pilgrimage centres. Devotees who go to either temple, normally drive down to the other and pass along this route or in this region. Most devotees who drive by in private vehicles can afford to keep some money aside, get involved in knowledge transfer or in support activities. What is the purpose of asking blessings from deities during a strenuous pilgrimage if you would not take time to melt your heart and look outside your vehicle?
This is a region that is frequently drought-prone, in spite of good water conservation works, fodder management and an understanding of the local habitat by the people. Several villages have tried good initiatives to conserve their water but they seem to crash when drought takes over.
We were driving by, and I must have seen these girls for only about 5-7 seconds or so. This is a photograph taken by a cellphone camera, while driving by at more than 60 kmph. I took this photograph on an impulse, and wondered about my own actions. What should I do now? For months, I did not post it on Facebook, feeling that it was not right.
One hears about girls not being able to go to school in war zones, terror-struck or fatwah-ridden countries, or amongst refugees. What about our girls in our own safe and secure country? By not taking up initiatives or supporting knowledge transfer to the drought zones, are we not hijacking the future of such splendid and strong girls? Since November 2015, I have got involved in small initiatives and I hope that it would slowly help. But everyone should, on their own, work with their own friends, small networks and lend help and support to others who are actively involved.
Akalkot and Tuljapur are eminent pilgrimage centres. Devotees who go to either temple, normally drive down to the other and pass along this route or in this region. Most devotees who drive by in private vehicles can afford to keep some money aside, get involved in knowledge transfer or in support activities. What is the purpose of asking blessings from deities during a strenuous pilgrimage if you would not take time to melt your heart and look outside your vehicle?
the wainganga - the river that flows north at Markanda, Gadchiroli District, Maharashtra
The Wainganga or Penganga River is famous for its locations being mentioned in Rudyard Kipling's "Jungle Books" as the domain of Mowgli, Baloo, Sher Khan, Bagheera and other animals. One mention is of Akela, the pack leader of the wolves, and his entire pack of more than a hundred wolves, running alongside the Wainganga River. There is another mention of a pack of jungle dogs chasing down a sambhur male stag, if I remember rightly.
This photograph of the Wainganga is at a very unique location. The south flowing river that starts somewhere in Seoni in Madhya Pradesh and races to join the Godavari River, is at this location - flowing north alongside the holy and sacred Markendeshwar or Markanda temple at Chamorshi Village in Gadchiroli District of Maharashtra.
For one stretch alongside the Gadchiroli District, the Wainganga River spreads out wide, and turns north and later, again turns to flow south. Alongside the Markanda Temple, one cannot imagine that there would be another parallel flow of this river after it turns southwards. At the temple banks, the river is peaceful, spread wide, and flowing steadily. One can see the opposite banks at quite some distance, and if one can harken back to Kipling's Jungle Books, one can almost see Akela and his pack racing alongside the river.
The temple is a splendid location and worth visiting. There are many small temples within the perimeter, almost 16 to my count. Some of them are in good standing, and one can see devotees visit them and offer prayers. Several devotees and pilgrims walk down the steps from the temple to the river banks and offer their salutations, take a dip and present their prayers. Its absolutely beautiful at dusk, as I could witness in one visit.
My zen moment at this temple and the river was to look upon the vast panorama, and sit amazed at the splendid country. The river is very different from most other rivers that one can visit in the Subcontinent. The crowds, the temples, the polluted cities and boats and shops and vendors are not there. Its absolutely and totally an unhibited river stretch of the Wainganga at Markanda.
This photograph of the Wainganga is at a very unique location. The south flowing river that starts somewhere in Seoni in Madhya Pradesh and races to join the Godavari River, is at this location - flowing north alongside the holy and sacred Markendeshwar or Markanda temple at Chamorshi Village in Gadchiroli District of Maharashtra.
For one stretch alongside the Gadchiroli District, the Wainganga River spreads out wide, and turns north and later, again turns to flow south. Alongside the Markanda Temple, one cannot imagine that there would be another parallel flow of this river after it turns southwards. At the temple banks, the river is peaceful, spread wide, and flowing steadily. One can see the opposite banks at quite some distance, and if one can harken back to Kipling's Jungle Books, one can almost see Akela and his pack racing alongside the river.
The temple is a splendid location and worth visiting. There are many small temples within the perimeter, almost 16 to my count. Some of them are in good standing, and one can see devotees visit them and offer prayers. Several devotees and pilgrims walk down the steps from the temple to the river banks and offer their salutations, take a dip and present their prayers. Its absolutely beautiful at dusk, as I could witness in one visit.
My zen moment at this temple and the river was to look upon the vast panorama, and sit amazed at the splendid country. The river is very different from most other rivers that one can visit in the Subcontinent. The crowds, the temples, the polluted cities and boats and shops and vendors are not there. Its absolutely and totally an unhibited river stretch of the Wainganga at Markanda.
monsoon darkness at noon in July - view from Nariman Point, Mumbai
It was hard to believe that Mumbai could witness a night sky at noon. This was so, in July 2016 at Nariman Point, with the most splendid and energetic monsoon lashing the megapolis. The skyline that one could see out at Hanging Gardens and Chowpatty across the bay from Nariman Point was magical. There seemed to be thousands of Mumbaikars (or Mumbaites, as also known) assembled all along the Queen's Necklace or Marine Drive, all the way from Nariman Point to Chowpatty Beach.
The waves seemed to suddenly grow out of the sea and jump out of the sky and on to the roads and drench the people. At least two or three spots had the waves lashing the vehicles speeding by. 3-4 boats were lashed out in the middle of the bay and a lone house crow was flying about, without landing anywhere.
I watched it moving about, flying over the stormy seas, and was reminded of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Only Mumbai and its monsoon could pump in enough energy and madness and initiative for a lone house crow to go out into the angry monsoon winds and rain and over the sea and keep flying about, showing its strength. This lone crow seemed to say that Mumbai would always be resilient and brave any threat.
The waves seemed to suddenly grow out of the sea and jump out of the sky and on to the roads and drench the people. At least two or three spots had the waves lashing the vehicles speeding by. 3-4 boats were lashed out in the middle of the bay and a lone house crow was flying about, without landing anywhere.
I watched it moving about, flying over the stormy seas, and was reminded of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Only Mumbai and its monsoon could pump in enough energy and madness and initiative for a lone house crow to go out into the angry monsoon winds and rain and over the sea and keep flying about, showing its strength. This lone crow seemed to say that Mumbai would always be resilient and brave any threat.
water tank at the Kibitsu shrine in Okayama prefecture, Japan
The Kibitsu shrine in Okayama prefecture, Japan is a beautiful temple and garden. I was informed that the temple is also regarded as a national treasure and is the only example of the kibitsu-zukuri style of architecture. The temple is in the Bitchu province of Okayama. One of the sons of a legendary emperor was enshrined within the temple.
I was able to visit the temple as part of the various visits around Okayama. Its a large campus, very excellently maintained in traditional Japanese temple garden architecture and landscape. Several significant temple buildings, passageways and shrines are within the campus and it takes an entire day to move around and about the campus.
This water tank was almost at the entrance, and after one climbs up a steep staircase. It comes upon you suddenly, and is at a very quiet location. It was splendidly beautiful and I stood there for some time, looking upon it peacefully. Visitors, tourists and pilgrims come here, and use the water for drinking or washing their hands and feet before entering the spotlessly clean shrines.
I was able to visit the temple as part of the various visits around Okayama. Its a large campus, very excellently maintained in traditional Japanese temple garden architecture and landscape. Several significant temple buildings, passageways and shrines are within the campus and it takes an entire day to move around and about the campus.
This water tank was almost at the entrance, and after one climbs up a steep staircase. It comes upon you suddenly, and is at a very quiet location. It was splendidly beautiful and I stood there for some time, looking upon it peacefully. Visitors, tourists and pilgrims come here, and use the water for drinking or washing their hands and feet before entering the spotlessly clean shrines.
Crown of Krishna - at Kalady, near Kochi, Kerala. "Krishna Kireetam"
A most splendid inflorescence. Known locally as "Krishna Kireetam" or "Krishna "Keereetam" = meaning Shri Krishna's Crown. Coincidentally, and most amazingly, I shot this photograph (on 14 June 2014) of the inflorescence at the compound of Sri Krishna Temple at the Sri Adi Sankara Janmakshetram campus. At Kalady, the birth place of Sankara, who worshiped at the Sri Krishna Temple, and left his mother to travel all over India, and came to be known as Adi Sankaracharya.
Latin - Clerodendrum paniculatum - belongs to the family - Verbenaceae
I was invited by providence and by a miracle and by the goodwill of a very dear friend and elder brother whose name is the convergence of such magic - a convergence of Krishna and of Narayana. He invited me to be with him and his family at Kalady on an important occasion, and I could thereby get the blessings of Shri Krishna and all the deities at the Sri Adi Sankara Janmakshetram.
The 'Krishna Keereetam' flower was just there, and I was stunned by its size - almost 2 feet tall in the infloresence alone - and wondered if one could get a sharp enough photograph with my most trusted cell phone camera. And my trusted friend did not fail me. Got a series of photographs and each one is as good as the earlier one.
Nilgai (Blue Bull) at the Khijadiya wetlands, near Jamnagar, Gujarat
Nilgai male, at the Khijadiya wetlands, walking through swiftly - obviously has a dislike for birdwatchers at Jamnagar, Gujarat. This was during the first Global Birdwatchers conference held at Jamnagar, Gujarat in December 2010. All birders were taken to the splendid Khijadiya wetlands for watching birds, sometime, an hour before sunset.
This Nilgai male found itself surrounded by birders on all sides, and seemed to be in a quandary. It kept walking about, trying to quietly sneak away from the birders. But, by its size, and its choice of habitat, ie in the waters, it made for a choice target for all birders. Gone are the days when birders traveled with binoculars. Nowadays, it is a profusion of cameras, of all types.
It suddenly made a jump for it and ran through some foliage, and broke out just in front of me, very close. I seemed to be the only birder without a camera, and only had my cell phone. This photograph was taken with my cell phone, with the Nilgai male, just about 10 metres away. It kept walking slowly, regally, knowing that I was the only one watching it. I was quite happy to watch it move about until dusk.
women grass-cutters near Karnaprayag, Uttarakhand
From sometime in September 2009, on the road near Karnaprayag, in Uttarakhand. These are the lower Himalayas, and on the Char Dham route (= the four pilgrimage location route). They are a regular sight and reflect on the dependence of the local women on biomass. They seem to work through the day, traveling further and about, harvesting fodder and journeying back with a heavy headload. I had a number of questions to myself, for I could not bring myself to stop them and ask them or delay them.
We were traveling from Haridwar by road through Rishikesh, Devprayag, Karnaprayag and Rudraprayag to Adi Badri. It was a most fascinating route, complete with surprises on every blind turn. Nowhere else in India would one come to such a limitless bounty of diversity and convergence.
Hats off, salaam and respects to the hill-women of the remote villages of Uttarakhand for having struggled to just live out their lives in the rugged Himalayas. The strongest of Indians.
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