Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Pic: Corbett, Dec'08

The other day I was going through a blog where the blogger described her experience in Jim Corbett National Park. This park, earlier known as Hailey National Park in 1907, covers an area of 798 sq km. Interestingly the park possesses sub-Himalayan geographical and ecological characteristics. Not many will understand the importance of this, since ignorance is one of the easiest forms of self-deception now. But I just wish, for people who throw plastic wrappers on the road and care two hoots about the environment, realization would come a bit early. Before their kids start gasping for air and choke to death in front of their frail eyes.

Anyways, back to the blog. “More than visiting the wild, this trip was meant to be a respite from a monotonous routine. So instead of staying in a cottage somewhere inside the jungle, we chose a lush resort offering everything from perfect rooms and clean pool to a sports room and decent food,” she wrote.

The resort in question is Jim’s Jungle Resort, 2 km from the closest entrance to the forest, and if I am not mistaken, a very ‘urban’ area because Corbett is one of those parks where human settlements border on the wild side. And her words, I feel, are nothing more than a typical Dilliwala’s reaction when they are pushed out of their familiar surroundings.

So, the next morning, according to her blog, she and group of friends got on to a jeep and entered the forest. I can imagine the motley bunch giggling their way through the trail as the bored driver caressed his way through the tracks. “They say you could spot a tiger if you are lucky. Guess we were quite an unlucky lot. We saw nothing to boast of except a few beautiful birds, wild hen, spotted deer and some admirable flora. It was only later we were told that the bright pink I wore like other members of the group are a strict no-no,” her blog says. “A few beautiful birds????” Now what’s that?

Bird lovers from all over the world, with their Leicas and Hasselblads, trudge across to this part of town to catch a glimpse of the Indian Hornbill, a magnificent bird that can dwarf a human kid.

“Wild hen?” That must have been the red jungle fowl, the ancestor of all domestic fowl. Too much of tandoori chicken, eh?

And of course, there is the splendid white-throated Bushchat (only around 8,000 are left in the wild). Known as a mysterious bird, it is locally called the $100 bird, meaning firangs pay that much for a mere sighting. This mysterious bird is a migratory bird though surprisingly it can only be found in the grasslands of Corbett in winter and not anywhere else. And oh yes, the Great Slaty (arguably the largest species of woodpecker in the world) also thrives here. So, what are we talking about?

Coming back to the tiger, I am glad that most tourists don’t catch a glimpse of it. This magnificent beast deserves some peace and not ignorant idiots on top of jeeps chasing it. Understanding nature is important. Understanding the habits of tigers is important. It is useful to know which deer’s call can confirm that a carnivore is in the vicinity. It helps to be in the core area of the forest and not in some clean swimming pool. Any which ways, the Ramganga River that feeds Corbett is cleaner. Especially, in those places where Ghariyals, Goonches and Mahseers swim in harmony. 

And most important: After going for a two-hour jungle safari in a forest, which covers 798 sq km, don’t write about hens. And secondly: Don’t insult Jim by encouraging comments such as this: “a few beautiful birds, wild hen, spotted deer and some admirable flora..."
ha ha... goes to show how overrated the place is. am sure nobody ever saw a tiger there except jim corbett himself.... visiting a zoo is more educational...” That was a comment on the blog.

I have nothing more to say. Goes to show why National Geographic doesn’t have a lot of Indian reporters.

 

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Should I tell you more?

Varanasi May,09
Kolkata, May 09

Bihar, May 09


You have a choice. Would you like to read about my drive to Kolkata or would you like to catch glimpses? Lemme know.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Nasty me

Pic: Ma's windowsill garden, Kolkata

I don't believe in "First impression is the last impression". Whoever said this must have been a really self-concious individual. And I firmly believe that it only works in a job interview or in a situation where you are meeting the person for the first time and there is no guarantee that you will meet him or her a second time. 
Fair enough?
For instance, I know this young woman in office who tries to be super sweet to people, tries to remain as calm as possible and talks a lot. Sometimes, I feel like carrying a duct tape or a magic wand to office.
The first time I met her she appeared the dedicated type.
In a few days I realised that all she could do well was talk incessantly and butt in with unneccesary questions. I tried leaving hints but they didn't work I guess.
In a few more days, I realised that she is shifty as well. Point out a good story idea to her. She would sound confused and disinterested. And later she would suggest the same idea in a meeting, sometimes saying that she would do it with me...
Later, on being asked about it she would murmur some excuse. And then, when you would have lost interest and moved on, you would see her struggling to write even 200 words on it. 
And oh yes, it isn't a big deal at all that she suggests 20 story ideas in the meeting to come up with 2 stories in the end. If only she could have eaten and been less of a troublesome monkey. 
But did I realise that she was a monkey when I first met her?

Trip


The heat is stifling. The moment I step outside it tries to smother me. Keyboards sound like electronic insects walking on a hot tin roof. Thoughts run fast and steady, like long distance marathon runners sweating it out in the sun. Everyday, it's more or less the same cycle. I wait for something to happen. I wait for the marathon runner to trip. 

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Plain lucky

Pic: GK2, Delhi

Life is incomplete without the Busa. Life is incomplete without the reassuring thought that a key in your hand can turn you into Superman.


Life has been kind. I thank God for the opportunities he has given me. I thank Him for the wonderful machines that I have been able to ride and feel.


Sometimes, I just feel like one lucky Superman. ;)