THE RIDE-TREK TO HARISCHANDRAGAD
KHIRESHWAR: It was a super special Diwali dhamaka offer: A cool night
ride that would transform into a tantalizing trek to Harischandragad. I
would be a fool to reject the bumper chance. I wasn’t. So, on Friday
evening, I got pushed in and out of the crowded Indrayani Express, and
standing still on my two legs for two-and-a-half hours reached Kalyan at
9 pm. There, joined by a gang of nine, led by Rohit Nayak, we headed to
Harischandragad on five bikes at around 12.30 am for our date with the
divine night.
Bouncing up and down the bumpy road, we rode on
in the still and peaceful night with nothing to disturb us except the
rulers of the road, the trucks, whizzing past us. And we were treated to
some delicious ingredients of a night life: The roots of the banyan
trees eerily hanging overhead. The changing colours of the
crescent-shaped moon from red to orange to yellow and all the shades
in-between. The vast canopy of the chilly dense fog emitting a glow-like
aura in the vehicle lights coming from the opposite direction. And the
blow cold, blow hot wind as we ascended the curves and switchbacks of
Malshej Ghat. It was one of those memorable nights that would be forever
locked safely in the inner folds of our collective minds.
Just before dawn we reached Khireshwar hurtling down the bone-shaking
7-km patch of rocky road to join six others led by Parag Vartak. A short
nap and a quick breakfast later, at 7 am, we got on to our feet in the
mighty and picturesque mountains that lent an idyllic charm to
Khireshwar.
We walked through the dense forest, carefully
hauled ourselves up on the precipitous rock patches, rolled down the
waterfall pathways, and crossed one plateau after another and, passing
by the huge massifs of Bala Killa and the Taramati, arrived at the
temple of Harischandreshwar by 12 noon. And we were literally blown away
by the beauty and grandeur of the centuries-old Hemadpanthi temple.
To the left was another temple, the Kedareshwar temple, which had a
huge, round shivling standing in refrigerator-cold pool of water inside a
cave. It was surrounded by four pillars, three of which have been
broken. Local lore has it that when the fourth pillar caves in, the
world will come to an end, and you and I wouldn’t have to bother about
keeping track of our mobile phones, our mail accounts, and the updates
on our social networking sites.
And to the right of
Harischandeswar temple was the Saptatirtha Pushkarni, a beautiful lake
set in a rock-cut Hemadpanthi enclosure. A small flight of steps at the
entrance led to the waterline and a dozen beautifully carved deep niches
on the other end housed idols of different gods till recently. All the
images have been removed and kept in the main temple to safeguard them
from the prying eyes of the antique smugglers. Today the beautiful lake
is the site of the trekking groups’ parting photo.
Both the
Harischandeswar temple and the lake were surrounded by small square
temples of different gods. Beyond the lake were the caves which would be
our abode for the night. The first of them was a Shiva temple, and the
last a water body, while the remaining were used as residences by the
trekkers.
These were just the starters, the mesmerizing main
course was reserved for the evening. We hardly had our packed lunch and
slept when we were woken up at around 4 pm for a romantic tryst with the
sunset. We trudged up the hills and walked the length and breadth of
the plateau in the narrow path amidst the green bushes to witness a
breathtaking display of the volcanic mass of stony hills at Konkan Kada.
The first words to come out of our wide-open mouths were: OH MY GOD!!
Konkan Kada was a huge semi-circular wall of mountain that plunged more
than 2,000 ft deep in a semi-arc with the hills on either ends, and
some in the middle, racing down in myriads of dense lines. Some of them
were crowned with triangular heads, some had spindle shaped tops, and
some had bird beak kind of pinnacles. But all of them literally ran down
the mountain in an incredible expression of their communion with Mother
Earth. It is only man who thinks he is superior, the other species live
and let live in perfect harmony with their surroundings.
Through the middle of the amphitheatre below ran a river and the whole
patch of earth was intersected with pockets of dense forests and paddy
fields. The humungous nature of the semi-circular valley produces a
chilling effect in your spine, and the silence is so soothing that you
automatically close your eyes after all the oohing and aahing posing for
those Facebook profiles.
And the dinner, Maggie noodles
cooked in dollops of tomato ketchup, was the perfect recipe to lull us
into a fitful sleep in the cosy confines of the rocky cave. The next
day’s sunrise on the Taramati hill was the yummy dessert that rounded
off the wonderful three-meal course.
No matter where you are,
no matter how busy you are, no matter what your social standing is, hunt
for an opportunity to go on a trek to Harischandragad. You may not
remember it for the rest of your life, but you will definitely not
forget it.
Thank you Rohit for having thought of the biking
option to Harischandragad, and Hemant and the Parags – Vartak and Jadhav
– and all of you who’ve made this trek a memorable experience. And we
missed you Sameer Patel and Mandar Saraf.
Here’s wishing all of you a colourful and sparkling Diwali. May this Diwali light up more treks in your life.
Take care and have fun.
Written BY: N Venugopal Rao
BACHELOR PARTY IN THE SAHYADRIS
ANJANERI: When the baap of all bachelors, Lord Hanuman, beckons us for a
rendezvous in the wilderness of the Sahyadris via Nisarga Bhraman, we
should be foolish to skip the bachelor party. No, Hanumanji wasn’t
calling us to announce his marriage plans; He isn’t dumb and stupid like
you and me to harbour such insane thoughts. He was inviting us to
partake of the glorious splendour of mother nature at the height of the
monsoon.
So, on Saturday, we put on our rucksacks and hopped
on to the ghost train to Kasara. And, from there, bundling ourselves
into jeeps we went on a rough ride to Trimbakeshwar. Some of us who were
awake spotted the night watchmen – the cats, the snakes, the mongoose
and the ghostly shapes of trees – zipping by in the intrusive light of
our jeeps.
We reached the holy town at 5.30 in the morning just
in time for the early morning puja. Don’t ask me what temple it was, I
am no temple guy, so I slept in the jeep when the others were
circumambulating the temple.
The temple darshan was over by
7.30 am, and we headed to the Anjaneri fort, reportedly the birthplace
of Lord Hanuman. And the 5-km trek wound through the steep serpentine
path in the hills until Anjaneri, the base village, shrunk into a tiny
hamlet in the panoramic grandeur of scarped hills, lakes, and green
wooded forests.
After a quick breakfast at the foot of the
fort, we ascended the broad steps carved into the hills, wound round the
precipitous scarp, and trudged up the steep steps that rose in a
straight line to reach the rolling meadow-like green plateau.
On our way up, we were treated to a bit of history by Sameer. Pointing
to a row of steps carved into the stone on either side of the ravine
near the first cave temple which housed the image of Lord Mahavira,
Sameer explained that there used to be a huge entrance wall, or what you
call darwaza, in the olden days which had been reduced to rubble by
nature’s weathering forces. Near the darwaza was a beautiful abstract
stone impression of probably Goddess Lakshmi.
The plateau
offered some more breathtaking vistas, the most magnificent of which was
a mesmerizing waterfall that thundered down into the valley below.
Cattle, with their tinkling bells, ambling around on the vast meadow
feeding sumptuously on the fluorescent green grass provided the perfect
setting for the waterfall. It was a truly awesome sight.
To one
corner of the plateau was a temple dedicated to the mother of Lord
Hanuman, the Anjani Mata Mandir, at the foot of another mighty hill atop
which Lord Hanuman lived. It had a standing image of Anjani Mata in
front of whom was a kneeling Lord Hanuman bowing to His mother with
hands folded. Besides the mother-son duo was Lord Gajanand @ Ganapati.
On our way to Hanuman’s hill, we encountered a beautiful pond where a
scenic tree with a twisted trunk was desperately bending into the pond
in a Bollywood-like setting.
Indulging in a photo shoot and a
bit of monkeying around on the tree, we trudged up the hill which had
nice little cement steps zigzagging all the way to the top. A side alley
laden with the fresh circles of cow dung led to another cave temple
that was hidden in the woods. Adjacent to it were a complex of
not-so-important temples and an ashram.
As always, the best
was reserved for the last. And it came in the form of a dense fog that
enveloped us from all sides cutting us away from the neighbouring hills
and dales. But we didn’t complain. We rejoiced in the black and white
foggy wonder that played hide and seek with our surroundings. Walking in
the fog was like discovering your pathway in the dark. You don’t get to
see more than a furlong of your path. And it was great fun.
The stairway took us to another broad mindblowing plateau on the highest
summit of which was another Anjani Mata Mandir. In this temple the
mother holds on to baby Hanuman, in a dear embrace. There were many
other idols in a row of stones arranged in a circular or rectangular
fashion.
On our way back, the warm sunshine cleared the fog
opening up the breathtaking vistas all around us. Walking down the steps
treating ourselves to nature’s wonders, we reached the first plateau,
had our lunch at the pond, and came down the huge steps carefully to the
base of the hills.
I headed to Trimbakeshwar where I caught
the bus and reached Pune after a painful 6-hour journey. I mean painful
for the other passengers, as I slept like a log all the way to Pune. The
others jeeped down to Kasara, took the train and hopefully were in
Mumbai by 10 pm.
Thank you Rohit, Parag, Hemant, and Sameer for organizing another wonderful trek.
Written BY: N Venugopal Rao
CROUCHING TIGER, PROWLING LEOPARD
It
was 6.30 in the morning. The air was pleasantly cold and crisp. And
there was excitement plastered all over our faces. Why shouldn’t it be?
We had sighted a tiger the previous day wallowing in the water a couple
of metres away. But we wanted to see the striped animal up, close and
personal. And we would. Today.
We had a premonition that
everything was right for the sighting of one. But what would it be? A
tiger? A bear? Or a wild cat? The last two were even rarer to sight than
the tiger. A leopard? Don’t even think of it. Whatever it would be, we
had the definite feeling that it was going to be a National Geographic
moment.
We drove slowly in our open Gypsy on the bumpy park
road checking out the peacocks, the spotted deer, the sambhar and all
those small little birds chirping welcome tunes. And hardly did we go a
few metres, there it was sitting on a hill scouring the surroundings for
its prey. A leopard. The rarest of rare sightings. Can you believe our
luck?
In a few minutes it glided down the hill and the park was
agog with alarm calls. The first ones to raise hell were the langurs.
They were picked up by the sambhar and the spotted deer and replicated
all over the park.
It was the perfect atmosphere to sight a
wild cat. But, much to our disappointment, the leopard disappeared into
the thick woods. We waited and waited for more than an hour for it to
walk up to the road. But it didn’t.
So we went deep into the
park watching the lovely peacocks dancing away to abandon, the langurs
swinging from tree to tree, the sambhar and spotted deer standing in
their tracks with their ears up to gaze at us capture them in our
cameras, and the cute little birds twittering sweet nothings. There is
never a dull moment in the park. If there is any it is because we are
boring.
And then, all of a sudden, the whole park echoed with
alarm calls once again – the howling shrieks of the langurs, the
desperate barking and fleeing of the deer and sambhar, and the hoarse
calls of the peacocks. We spluttered our engine to a stop. And the alarm
calls got louder and louder spreading tension all around.
There was no end to our fabulous luck. We were waiting for an Aamir Khan
and a Tom Cruise showed up!! A huge leopard, not the earlier one,
walked by slowly right in front of us. And it walked on the road for a
while as if it was doing the catwalk for us in the wild.
It was
gorgeous, it was real, and it was on the prowl in flesh and blood. It
had a lovely body, rich and luscious spots, shapely legs, and a sexy
‘Sheila ki jawani’ sinuous movement.
Our adrenalin was
pumping. Our collective hearts went wild with ecstasy. We looked into
each other’s face with astonishment. And our cameras started rolling to
capture the perfect moment.
There was a whispered silence in
the park. Then the leopard stood for a while and looked back at us with
its glaring yellow eyes. And Preeti got her best shot!! And we kept
shooting till it disappeared into the wild.
Even after the
leopard had left we stood still the feeling of euphoria sweeping over
us. That was way beyond amazing. It was the perfect ‘holy grail’
sighting that anyone could dream of. We can only thank our guide and our
driver for that brilliant moment.
I don’t know how Columbus
felt when he discovered America, but when we spotted the leopard we were
on the seventy-seventh heaven!!
NOTE: If you want to see a
tiger you can go to the zoo. And you will definitely have a better view
of it. Go to the park only if you want a wonderful ambience of the
forest setting with all the animals in their natural habitat. You will
never be disappointed whether you spot a tiger or not. But don’t forget
to leave your ego behind.
Written by: N Venugopal Rao
