When existence becomes boring, painful and demanding. When drudgeries of life begin to overtake you, it’s time to immerse yourself in nature’s arms. I have always loved being one amongst nature and as a member of the honourable Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS), I could not have left the chance of exploring the deeper jungles of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park go unnoticed. So here I was on a Sunday morning in my trekking gear (without carrying the most important kit of all – water), joining a group of nature enthusiasts at the entrance of the park and of course my dear friend Hemant who was giving me company with his Nikon D40 and the works.
We made our way towards the deeper portions of the park called Silonda, which is a natural habitat for most wild animals including the famous leopards and the spotted deer. That also includes a variety of birds and vegetation that one must not have known despite spending half the life around this vast green expanse. Sadly most visitors to the park have rarely explored the real beauty and have turned the area into a lovers paradise. The first sighting of the morning that got everybody excited was a pair of colourful Kingfishers. Soon the cameras were pointing in that direction, the professionals peeking into their dark funnels wanting to capture this gifted moment for posterity.
The path to our rendezvous passed along a small village with thatched houses. The sun had just woken up shining mildly across the landscape that was littered with greenery, scampering fowls and a few kids getting ready for their daily wash. A little later we turned around from the paved road and prepared to enter into the arms of mother nature with a visible glee on our faces. Our walk through the dusty lane had begun. Nature indeed had surprises waiting for us. As our tour guides Sanal and Vithoba unearthed the secrets for us, everybody especially the kids were dropping their jaws in awe. The secret mother nature goody bag included trees that had medicinal qualities – one plant is used by tribals to treat some puss infected wounds, ants that chew the bark and build “pagoda” shaped nests out of the morsel, a “hitler” bug that lives in the dry leaves, a bird that literally sounds “I will beat you” when he’s calling out to his mate; not that it has any evil intentions for his partner. The group consisted of some expert bird watchers who could recognize a species by their calling sound. One such teenager was carrying a manual of birds that were found in the Indian sub-continent and showed me a particular sketch of a bird after listening to its sound (birds are difficult to be spotted in the forest environment). I was happy to see his latent enthusiasm. The guides then told us that the forest can be experienced in its full glory during the monsoon season when one gets to pass through the overflowing river and see a variety of anthropod and insect species including scorpions. During this season the forest is surrounded by tall bamboo shoots and fog which makes visibility difficult.
After walking for around 2 hours without at a stretch, we reached a dry river bed where we settled down for a round of drinks and food. A monitor lizard was basking in the afternoon sun on one of the boulders. The camouflage didn’t work for it as some members spotted it and thus began an elaborate photo session that would have made any supermodel envious. It however seemed unperturbed by the unnecessary attention it was drawing. Meanwhile I looked for an obscure spot in the terrain to rest my suffering carcass. For someone used to walking on the leveled tarred surfaces of the urban cityscape, mobility on the rocks and the uneven surfaces with the camera load could mean a huge challenge as my photographer friends would agree with me. The trek ended on a high note literally when the group congregated on a small hillock and began introducing themselves randomly while I rested my aching feet once again on the rock surrounded by some grass. At this stage I had no clue if I was thirsty or hungry. But I was feeling elated after that physically gruelling walk through the jungle and having made it this far. On our way back we saw a pair of Chital (spotted deer) behind a thick growth and we all stood in our tracks to watch the animal in its natural surroundings. Just then an enthusiastic mother bellowed gleefully to her son that alerted the Chitals who made a dash for the deeper reaches of the forest. The only sighting of a wild animal for us today (even if it was a spotted deer) was ended quite abruptly to our disappointment.
As we made our way back to our respective civilizations, leaving behind the visions of the flora and the fauna, the lingering freshness of the air and chirping of the forest birds, we promised to be back in nature’s arms very soon.
