Silence
is as beautiful as a 2 month old baby and as powerful as a woman’s melting
smile, nevertheless; we tend to ignore this remarkable “character” and on most
occasions silence is killed brutally. Silence
flows through our environment, every day and everywhere; only to be amplified
and killed on every occasion. The moments before our sleep are amplified by
songs from smart phones, the lonely moments at home are amplified by
televisions, the romantic moments between pairs of loving eyes are amplified by
worldly and materialistic discussions, the calm early mornings at office are
amplified by loud “emergency” conference calls, the quiet moment at hospital
where mind prepares for the worst and heart thinks for the best is amplified by
our own crying conscience. Silence; like malaria in developed countries,
has been eradicated forever with man-made vaccine called “reason”, while my
conscience claims there’s no reason to kill silence. Up or down, right or left;
wherever I searched for it I couldn’t compose a moment of silence as the
orderly chaos kept me chasing to the brink of breakdown. I was now desperately searching for it, that moment of stillness where
my immediate world was on a mute enabling me to walk slowly; talk real words,
breathe patiently, understand what I hear, mean what I say, smile from my heart
and eventually sleep in absolute calm. These simple, inherent characters
have vanished long back and I was stunned to sit and think for a moment I was
searching for them, the basics of life. Like a blown out valve, I surged with
accumulated pressure towards a remarkably quiet region with three of my
colleagues on a noisy evening when entire office was stubbornly tearing down
the silence. No worries; as I knew where
to look for and where to run towards to and cherish moments of stillness
looking into distant “nothing” and listening to vast emptiness in a region that’s
shadowed by the mighty Western Ghats. Geographers call it a rain shadow
region, a region that lies on the landward slope of a sea facing mountain
chain, while I call it a silent shadow for its contents are a mystery and not
much raved about like those on the other side of the mountain chain. After a
night of brisk, breathe stopping drive on a mix of notorious Indian Highways we
managed to hit the vicinity of Ghats, much ahead of dawn, forcing us to have a
power nap for an hour until it was considered safe to enter the Chinnar
Wildlife sanctuary. Chinnar WLS derives its name from Chinnar River that
originates in the distant Anaimalai hills and later flowing into Tamilnadu as
Amaravati before joining Cauvery near Karur. Our destination for the day was a
sleepy, sedate town lying on the way to world famous Munnar and it was
inherently famous not because of its proximity to Munnar but because of its
massive natural sandal wood forests. It’s called by the name Marayur (Marayoor)
where I discovered a quaint, big Bungalow a year back and it was where we were
heading towards to spend a day of silence isolated from all unwanted
amplifications. We were driving through
the State Highway 17 and it was still dark with the big moon peeping from
behind the Western Ghats rendering the situation painstakingly romantic, and
completely making us ignorant of the fear usually associated with night driving
inside a wild life sanctuary. Dawn gorgeously emerged as we entered Marayoor
with distant, random homes echoing the voice of silence from around the mind
boggling spread of the Ghats. We checked into “Chandana”; the beautiful
Bungalow built with taste and substance to have a short nap before entering the
core of the sanctuary for a moment of “out of this world silence” and to relish
the relaxing sight of spectacular Thoovanam falls formed by river Pambar. Post
breakfast we ventured into market for provisions and thereafter it was a quick
entry into the reserve accompanied by forest guard for that relaxing hike
towards Thoovanam with none but only “silence” accompanying us. Silence is so powerful here that we rapidly
succumb to its influential presence and walk in absolute stillness unbothered
by whatever and whoever is bothering us hundreds of kilometers away. Silence
gradually lowers the volume around the amplified mind as it begins to settle
into rhythm of nature; one that is of undeterred and unchallenged serenity.
Thoovanam falls had a much bigger output this year due to the successful SW
monsoon and it reinforced its position as the “Heart” of Chinnar. Upon completion
of this trek and exiting the confines of Chinnar, my world had settled down
well into its inherent rhythm and the impending evening culminated in “once in
a while” kind of relaxation as we had a sumptuous dinner in a setting that
churned loads of silence and nothing else. When
Marayoor went quiet after the night had set in well, I took a stroll through
the town engulfed by cold, mist and the exotic silence I came in search off.
Walking in absolute stillness through an
unknown village over a not much known road with surrounding Ghats forming a
scary shadow and the distant stars blinking with curiousness is a moment to
cherish. When I came back to Chandana the Bungalow was spooky and I quickly
retreated to my room for going dead over the next few hours until dawn.
Unfortunately; the dawn on the day of departure was much romantic than the one
on our arrival and this made me depart with reluctance. Like many of my
“Hurried” jaunts in the past, this quick dash to the Rain Shadow region over a
weekend proved to be a curing one on my injured peace. The choice was mine, I knew well; I could remain in silence or, return
to the world of chaos tormented by unwanted amplifications. But the bigger
problem now was; I actually didn’t have the choice which I believed I had and
thus forced to return to where I came running from. All I keep thinking
about is how to retain the silence that subtly flowed past for couple of days
and I believe the answer lies deep within me. It now only needs a powerful
realization…
