Of Birds, Snakes and Walks

Not very far above the dark hills on the road to Karjat from Mumbai, shrouded by mist and pre-dawn gloom, we saw a bright light, seemingly static and unsupported by anything on the ground.

To me it looked like a UFO looking for a landing site.

The other four sleepy members in the Toyota Fortuner protested half-heartedly. It was little after 6 a.m. on a cold (for Mumbai) Saturday morning and most of us had met each other just 30 minutes back.

“Why do you want to be abducted by aliens?” petite A asked from the back seat.

“I’m done with traveling on this planet. I want to travel to other realms,” I stated stoutly.

As we drove past Neral on to the country roads beyond, it did feel like another realm. It was difficult to say whether we were in the wilderness or in villages. There were some buildings, a sudden market street, long stretches of lonely road, an unattended railway crossing and an unexpected school busy with its morning assembly. There were hills that kept us company and an ethereal river with mist rising from its golden waters.

The road to Saguna Baug became rougher and the mist got thicker. Chicken scattered away from the front wheels of our car. Half a dozen horses grazed beyond a wire fence on our left. Air got determinedly chilly.

We turned in at the gates of the resort, where we were congregating for a rural and night-trail photography fieldtrip organized by DCP Workshops and Expeditions. As we parked out car in front of our no-nonsense dorms and got out, a mongrel dog raced up to me, jumped on me as if we were long-lost friends and left a trail of muddy paw prints on my top.

Mud on my clothes was perhaps a reminder of the new realm to get real.

Our dorm was to accommodate seven women. It was just one room, one mezzanine floor accessible via a steep ladder-type staircase, one bathroom and no furniture. The men had a similar deal next door.

We set out for the bird walk under the able guidance of Mr. Yogesh Chavan. This was to be the first of a day full of walks. 8 – 9 a.m.: bird walk; 10 a.m. – 1 p.m.: River and wilderness walk; 4 – 7 p.m.: Sunset walk; 8 – 9 p.m.: Night-trail rehearsal walk; and 10 – 11:30 p.m.: The real night-trail walk!

Each walk had its own grammar. The morning was misty and we encountered birds starting their day in a leisurely manner. We crossed ponds filled with huge showy kumudini and lotus flowers.

By the time of the river walk, the sun had climbed up, dispelling the mist. We then walked in the dappled shadows of the tall trees lining the bank. We climbed down to the joyously flowing Ulhas river to wade in and play with the fish. Turns out I have feet that offer a veritable smorgasbord of fishy delights for they bunched under mine and ignored everybody else!

By 3:30, the local snake whisperer, Mr. Patwardhan, held shows to talk about the truths and myths about snakes. He gave an articulate lecture in Marathi about snakes tracing their evolution, physiology, diet, features and venom (not poison, he distinguished.)

The star of the show had to be the “cute” baby cobra who was so feisty that he refused to go back into his bag after being let out. It is a compliment to Mr. Patwardhan’s skill as a lecturer that, by now, the crowd started enjoying the antics of this snake as they would of a dog or a cat. I also touched a live snake for the first time—so soft, smooth and dry!

The evening walk brought us back to the babbling river once again, now bathed in mystical evening light. Mist was once again starting to rise and the hills before us grew dark and mysterious as the sun sank behind them. Cormorants flew in lazy formations above head. We all sat on the steps, each lost in their own thoughts and meditations.

We saw hundreds of bats flying overhead as we headed back to base. I considerably slowed the group by pointing out that if we got one bat in the right angle right below the moon, we could have our own Dark Knight picture, but alas, the bats thought otherwise.

As darkness fell, it was time for our night-trails. By now, photography was flowing out of my ears so I packed my camera and decided to just enjoy the trail.

The night was crisp, cold and clear. The sky was a canopy of stars above open fields. As people were spotting tiny bugs, I spotted an airplane, flying overhead. I started signaling it with my headlight—a game that would last the entire night. If only an UFO could land there on the field and take me away on an adventure!

The best walk was the one we started considerably late, after 10 p.m. There is something completely magical about walking into the wilderness bathed in moonlight, as the world settles down for the long haul of the night. You step over the boundaries of your own fears and are transported into a dream world.

 

Mr. Chavan taught us how to spot subjects and photograph them. We saw many beautiful bugs with intricate patterns on their bodies. We woke a puff-throated warbler from its sleep on a perch high on a tree. We passed by a group working on the river and speculated that it could be sand mafia.

It was the most unique experience in my life. Even the smog, traffic and travails of Mumbai have not diminished the magic.