World’s biggest achievements and greatest accomplishments have resulted from one word “Wait”, without which anything is impossible and unreachable. Right from the morning bus to office to the proposed landing on Mars; this one powerful word dictates, nevertheless, we hate this single word. One of the significant manifestations of the power of this “single word” is found in the processes of nature and I was more than content when my “2 years wait” came to an exotic end during the October of 2011 as I got an unexpected chance to explore the most gorgeous section of Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu. This place is isolated, clean, cold and filled with teeming wilderness, mists and mysteries that, no matter how many ever time your visits are recurring, it’ll just blow your imagination away to ashes. This was my third visit and the photographic opportunities had only increased three fold, not to mention the enhancements to my own creativity during this period, and both combined to play havoc with the camera. My first visit, two years back, was at the wrong time and the second one was only a “little better” as number 3 came to my rescue, again (Its both my Lucky and unlucky number). Now I was ready to see what I missed two years back and to forget what went past, never to return again, during the same period. My wait came to an end on a rainy evening when entire country was in festive mood and Mr. Jag arrived in style in his Titanium Figo. The moment I held the steering I knew what the night was going to be like and the Ford didn’t let me down as I spent the most dynamic and torque filled night of my life. She obeyed like the most dedicated slave and with much ease; I ate NH4, NH46, NH7 and NH47 for dinner before entering the notorious single lane state highways waiting to eat me, in turn. The morning was emerging and the rain had ceased, temporarily, as I pulled out of the slippery road for a cup of caffeine on the outskirts of a small village in the district of Tiruppur. Eyes were red, ears were deaf and the mouth was dry, obviously, as I stared at the white Ford parked in the darkness with a meaningful Grin, those 40 hairpin bends ahead…Hehehehe. Early morning darkness is best enjoyed during winter and the “drenched” countryside added to the ambience as I was pursuing a multi axle Volvo, dangerously, over an ultra narrow and super smooth state highway through fog filled agricultural fields. Eventually, the Volvo was seen in the rear view mirror as we were fast approaching the Ghats when Pollachi came on the way to instigate buried memories, beautiful memories-painful pasts. The first sight of Ghats was as refreshing as it always has been and my breath increased “n” times the normal with awe. Recent rains have transformed this section of the Ghats into a calendar page like location with every tree and every drop of water forming a perfect backdrop for the camera. Everything was so untouched and so unperturbed that I couldn’t believe they were real (Photos 1,3,4,6 and 7). When I reached Valparai I never had the confidence there would be more work for my camera, as I was about to be tossed with what she had in store, within the depths. I forgot Nature was the master waiter and my wait was smaller than “microscopic” in her parlance and it was only for a good……….
Valparai teems with wilderness and its success in nurturing the blistering wilderness is because of the seclusion it enjoys. There aren’t many tourists and there aren’t much commercial interests and this is good news for the big cats and their prey base, not to mention the pachyderms which rule. It was already an hour past noon and I knew darkness comes fast in this part of the state as the prevailing weather condition expedited it further. Our drive took us past the borders of “Anaimalai Tiger reserve” when a shapeless forest check post brought our drive to a halt. Few years back entry was unrestricted and unregulated and it was good news that the forest administration is beginning to recognize the importance of instilling a more robust “order”. We were in pursuit of Nirar, a secluded village with a gorgeous natural set up, where I learnt the meaning of “still life” couple of years back. TN power has two set-up’s around the Nirar region, upper and lower, and it’s the lower which usually exudes with ambience. In 2009 we had the blood chilling opportunity of watching a Sambar being hunted down and torn to pieces by a pack of Indian Dholes (Cuon Alpinus, the only extant member of the genus Cuon) at dusk and this time around, it was a “fearful” nostalgia as I stood over the lower Nirar dam and stared endlessly into the wilderness surrounding its back waters (Photos 2,14,15,19 and 23). Dusk was calling and I was wondering what it would feel like to walk through the service road leading to the “catchment tunnel”, just near the exact location where the hunting was executed. We didn’t have the courage nor did the authorities give permission in 2009 but now, we had the eagerness to walk through one of the wildest stretch seen ever. The pathway is covered with extremely dense tropical vegetation and it’s logical to keep your mouths shut and the ears wide open. The walk gets terminated at the tunnel and before it, there’s another narrow path deviating from the main and takes you to the edge of the backwaters. This stretch is particularly fearsome as everything - from vegetation, smell in the air, stillness of water and even the sky above reminds of a prime predator country. I took the last turn before hitting the backwaters and it was the turn which threw the biggest surprise of my life (Photos 25 and 26). The remnants of the Sambar were a blood chilling reminder of “life” in the wild and I couldn’t believe this region was so secluded that the bones were so well preserved “in situ”. Hastened our retreat and the path was filled with what seemed to be predator droppings all through indicating, this could be the place to hang around for a glimpse of the big cat. Bid goodbye to the virgin Nirar country and drove back to Valparai for a bottle of cold lager and mystifying thoughts when a distant home, against the backdrop of a monsoon sky, caught my attention (Photo 44) and, it only complemented the existing feeling of “being pursued”. The night was cold, inebriated and filled with smell of blood as last night’s 630 Kms drive erased the memoirs and comforted me for a good long sleep.
The morning was unusually cold, a kind of chill not experienced before in Valparai and it made the “wait” at a nearby tea stall an exotic shiver. Agenda for the second day was to visit “Number Rock”, a place where clouds flow over grass and more than 14 falls (approximate) pour out on the opposite cliffs, across Kerala border. But capturing this beauty had never been a manageable task as the clouds wreck havoc in hiding them and in the process, making us to incur a long “wait”. Not bowed down by previous failures, I embarked on an ambitious drive towards the edge of Tamil Nadu to capture one of her stunning assets on camera. There was a heavy downpour, as expected of monsoon season, and it was a romantic drive through endless tea gardens, bathed and sparkling fresh. A beautiful stream accompanied us (Photo 28) which provoked my suspicion of a nearby fall and on inquiry, it was indeed there and could be reached by a 30 min walk through pristine tea gardens (Photos 29, 30 and 31). The feeling of watching a stream fall over a cliff amidst a vast tea garden is special and the pristine scenery was enhanced by the “hot green” spreading in all directions. Rain gained intensity and clicked the camera one last time (Photo 32) before jumping into the car for that long drive towards Number Rock, past Mudis. Mudis is notorious for “Big cat” sightings and it’s often in news for big cat – Human conflict with the former escaping almost, on all of the attempts. A night drive to Nallamudi Poonjolai, a small hamlet near Mudis and bordering Kerala, is pointed out by the locals as the most daring time killer in Valparai region. It was not on our agenda this time and we pursued Number Rock, through heavy downpour and mind boggling estate gardens. A “Bombay Burma trading company’s” dump bungalow signals the arrival of “start point” for the Number Rock trek though; you could still drive through if not bothered about the “health” of your expensive car. A SUV could do the job but, what’s the point in driving through nature’s best setting than walking and breathing through it under constant threat of rain, Gaur, bear and leopard. Though I knew the route well, we hired a “made on the spot guide” to ensure support and safety through the mist filled mystic path ahead (Photos 34, 35 and 40). The pathway to Number rock is like path way to heaven and on reaching the destination, fighting massive leeches and threat from wild life, heaven is right before your eyes. The only let down would be the fact that God had added a little more than required amount of flavor inhibiting the vision (Photos 35, 36, 37 and 38). With a third failure in succession, I was determined to wait further and capture her when she was in the best moods before descending down to the lonely tea shop for a hot drink. There was much commotion of an elephant Herd wrecking havoc in a tea garden, some 10 Kms away, and I was surprised how fast information flows to remote corners exhibiting the magnitude of “Animal-man” conflict in the Anaimalai region. When we reached the spot, which was precisely 10 Kms as informed, forest guards were busy planning to guide the Pachyderms back into protected area. The mild drizzle, wet tea garden, impending sun set and the electrifying ambience ensured my hands weren’t shake free and it was not before numerous attempts I managed an average shot with a long exposure setting, hand held (Photo 22). The conflict continued late into the night when we spotted the group breaking into a nearby shop as the helpless Forest rangers were running, hooked to mobile phones to mobilize back up. The power of a tusker is to be seen, to be believed, as the shutter was ripped open in one shot and nothing stood on the way of their pre determined plan. Amazed by the intelligence of these animals and disturbed by the loss incurred to “below poverty line” people inhabiting this region, we drove back to the hotel wondering on what could be done to bring these conflicts to an end. It’s the people who migrated for a living from tea estates and not the animals, which have ruled this region since time immemorial. They are being robbed of their space, privacy and food sources forcing them to retaliate, and a balanced approach is needed to settle this conflict with no loss on both sides as it’s more complicated than indicated.
It was a cold morning when I woke up, reluctantly, the day next and it was time to gear up for that 80+ Kms of bone rattling drive through unadulterated rain forest region between Kerala and Tamil Nadu. Valparai is connected with Challakudy, in Thrissur, by a tight road winding its way through mesmerizing natural set-up and I was blown away by its isolation way back in 2009. 2 years may have passed with too many things altered beyond recognition in my personal life but, it was nothing when compared to the time period nature has invested in creating this pristine region, its contents and the ability to pull you down to be on knees. Bid goodbye, the third time, to Valparai and pumped up energy levels to annoy the bones and test the endurance of Figo as she would carry us over one of the most punishing terrains to land us west of, the Western Ghats. Just as we cross the Kerala border vehicles are stopped for a “rough” check-up and I was surprised at the way regulation levels have been spruced up. Years back, a driver just needs to enter the Vehicle’s registration details and license number after which the check post is thrown open to view nature’s bounty, in unlimited format. But now it was an “International border crossing” levels of scrutinizing as the car’s interior and the boot were ripped through for anything undesirable. The check up here is so robust that, the ranger lists out the number and type of plastic products you are carrying on an official “tear out”, signs it off and hands it to the driver. At the exit check post near Vazhachal, 70 Kms away, his counterpart compares the data on the official tear out with reality and when there’s a mismatch you could end up debiting upto USD100. The main agenda is to make this extremely pristine and sensitive ecological hot spot 100% plastic free and this technique is a novel way to realize that vital dream. Past formalities, check post and civilization the ambience gets electrifying as you keep pushing through the boundaries of this exotic wild life kingdom. Wilderness is at peak here and the slightest misjudgment in placing your foot alongside the road could see you screaming in disgust as some beautiful creation of God crawls up your leg. There’s heavy unidentified movement in the bushes, where ever you may stop for a break, and it’s advisable to not venture away from the safety of your vehicle. Way back in 2009 we drove through this beauty to return back to Valparai under the cover of darkness and pouring rain when, after those 8 hours of spine cracking drive, nature blessed us with the sightings of a Gaur couple and the elusive leopard. Now we had our own agenda and wouldn’t be driving back as I was observing the landscape and comparing with the past. At some unknown location and distance there’s a vantage point from where you can observe the Lower Sholayar in complete seclusion. I’ve always loved that location and this time wasn’t no different so, Imagine this – you are looking at something that’s as still as a frozen rock yet, it has life, supports life, makes you feel shy with its beauty, makes the setting unrealistic with its unrivalled perfection and at last, gives a new dimension to the word still. I stood staring in its direction without making a move to help coordinate with the tranquility of the place, as I forget my pains and responsibilities (Photo 46). When we reached Vazhachal after a staggering 7 hour drive, averaging 80/7=11.43 Kms/ per hour, the sun had begin to set for yet another beautiful night to set in. Though I was disappointed over my inability to make it close to the romantic Athirapally, a vantage point offered a remarkable angle with resounding lighting and I doubt if I could ever manage a more beautiful shot of this majestic falls while on its way to the Arabian Sea (Photo 50).
It was one of the nostalgic drives, thereafter, in pursuit of Palakkad as I revved the reluctant diesel engine to ensure we landed up at our hotel by 21:00 Hrs. Challakudy was bypassed very soon and it was a painful moment when we bid goodbye to the arousing country side and joined the city bound NH47. After some aggressive “dash out” on the yet to be four-laned NH47, extremely fast and extremely eye blinding, it was “one of those moments” of my life as I entered a town which I always feared to and instills a sense of pain. Palakkad was quiet, dark, desolate and gusty as I “checked in” for a night of dreamless sleep, for it was here my dream was stolen….to be never returned. To never be returned, to never be seen and to never be heared. There was a gentle drizzle as I walked with my valuable friends to a nearby bar for that “after a long drive” relaxation. Rain drops were creating havoc on the decorative glass roof and the slowly gaining “inebriated state” made me loose composure. I wanted to shed tears, but didn’t, as my ego prevailed for yet another time and made me walk back to the hotel for that much needed darkness and sleep. I hugged the soft pillow and curled inside the big blanket which got wet with time by the tears rolling down, at last. The next morning was eventless as Jag and his cousin hurried for their friend’s wedding while I kept still, staring at the ceiling; with screams, tears, compromises and phone calls filling the space surrounding me. Normality was restored when the door bell rang to hand over the “ordered” coffee and I switched on the lap-top to dilute the sensitive thoughts. Packed up my things and kept me ready to ensure a rapid departure when Jag would show up, as I wasn’t ready to go through this loneliness further. As planned, I made a hasty retreat when my dudes arrived and it was an unexplainable feeling as I made a “reluctant” exit from gateway to Kerala. I threw one last look at this mystic place and found it hard to compare its reflection on my eyes with those 2 years back. Kept looking at the landscapes on either side, as sceneries and memories flew by, when green shades gave way to semi green scrubs and I already knew we were out of Kerala. My heart slowed down, time was turned back by a couple of years and I was sitting there, adjacent to my friends, looking at them enjoy the drive and unable to comprehend why I wasn’t. The fast NH47 gradually helped to recover from the nostalgia and I slowly emerged out of my threatening dream to rejoin reality as NE monsoon was ravaging Tamil Nadu. There are few occasions and scenarios when a “wait” is meaningful but the wait I had incurred has been rendered meaningless, nevertheless, it has left with me some untold and difficult to learn lessons. Now my energy and wait is directed towards something different, something bigger and when this wait yields, Iam confident, the memoirs from Palakkad will fade away, for ever. When I reached home after an unusually long vacation, the exceptionally event filled 2 years from the recent past only made me ask for more... as a week of vacation wasn’t enough to discard the carry over’s from a life altering event. The wait continues…….
Parameters
Route–Chennai-Vellore-Krishnagiri-Thopur-Bhavani-Tiruppur-Pollachi-Valparai-Vazhachal-Challakudy-Athirapally-Thrissur-Palakkad.
Best Time to visit – July to Sep, when the SW monsoon makes this place magical and Oct-Nov, when NE monsoon makes this place mystic.
Specialties – Blistering wilderness, awesome fog invasions, ease of spotting a big cat and pristine seclusion.
What you should do – Understand man-animal conflict, observe the hardships of tea estate labors, follow an elephant herd and obviously, enjoy nature in one of its most verdant settings.
Don’t Forget – An umbrella, a night drive to Nallamudi Poonjolai, a bigger memory card for the camera, the Valparai to Athirapally drive (better after dark) and an early morning and late night stroll on the streets of this hidden town. A more exotic and tougher agenda would be the trek from Akkamalai to Konalar hut, through the mind blowing Grass hills.
No comments:
Post a Comment