Danum Valley, Borneo. Sabah

 

PART I

5th July,2016. Late Afternoon. En route  to Danum Valley:

I was starting to feel dizzy. Every single breath that I took inside an air-conditioned 4-wheel-drive jeep was proving to be torturous. My head started spinning and I realized I wouldn’t be able to sit inside the car any further. I was on the way to a destination of my dreams but this journey had to be stopped. Like a sloth on sleeping pills, I slowly lifted my hand and signaled my friends to stop the car. The vehicle came to a screeching halt.

But here, lets hold on. Pause. Rewind a few minutes.

Danum Valley had been a dream for many years. As I embarked on this private vehicle at Lahad Datu, I was certainly the most happiest of all. Fortunately, we very well managed the otherwise expensive trip within a backpacker’s budget. For over an hour, I was boasting about the biodiversity of this oldest rainforest I’ve read— its tallest trees on record, the dipterocarps, the dark-side of oil palm plantations, and recalled a spine-chilling documentary from Nat Geo.

 

But then, we were all equally haunted by warnings from our fellow travelers whom we met back in Kinabatangan. They had warned us about the common sight of cobras and menacing threat of the tiger leeches (leeches that could be as long as a pencil?!). Joking about the potential mishaps we could think of, every now and then, we gazed at the rain-streaked windows, craning our necks to view those captivating tree-tops from inside the car. As we gained altitude, the road shrunk and my head began to spin.

Now, back to where I left.

I got out of the car, knelt to the ground holding my head, took deep breaths and my mind recalled why I started this journey after all. After inhaling a tang of wilderness, I decided not to sit inside the car but on the roofless rear-end where our backpacks were fastened. The evening breeze started revving up, a heavy mass of nimbus followed us overhead, our bodies were juddering from head to toe and the tailboard was rattling along, stirring up mud as we whip past the forest path. The views from the back of that pick-up truck was scintillating and I started feeling relieved. We saw what many others would not, from this perspective; a view we were offered until it started raining rockets from the sky.

A single drop of rain cascaded  down as a nail, piercing through the skin. Upon a moment's realization, our driver stopped the car and we rushed inside.

PART II

5th July 2016. Evening. At Danum Valley Field Centre (DVFC):

On reaching DVFC, my mood lifted up instantly. I found myself standing in front of the DVFC hostel, staring for the first time at a pretty dormitory located amidst a rainforest. I flounced upstairs to the ladies dorm, with my backpack. On the notice board outside the dormitory was a tiny leech lurking across a paper. I told myself to shutdown the ‘scream-at-sight’ instinct and stand stock-still, if I ever happen to see a cobra in the next few days at DVFC.

Fumbling my way through the unlit dormitory, I found towels, clothes and toiletries dispersed on almost all the beds, as if everyone had left the dorm abruptly at will. A birdwatcher that I am, ‘The Genius of Birds’ by Jennifer Ackerman, held my attention for a few seconds. A pungent odour from wet clothes mixed with a mild deodorant, filled the air inside the dorm. At last, I found my allocated bed near the dorm’s backdoor, labelled ‘Visitor’. I put my backpack down and closed my eyes, feeling replete with happiness.

I took out my camera and headed out to the dorm’s patio. I pulled a chair and sat comfortably overlooking the vast expanse of greenery dotted by these thin tall beauties. A few minutes later, many clouds burst open and a research intern who sat behind me, enjoying the sight as much as I did, took out his harmonica. And soon, his melody filled the air.

 

PART III

6th July 2016. 5:30 AM. On the Observation Tower:

When we were driving uphill on a safari vehicle, the strong winds that blew our faces, subsided almost suddenly on reaching the observation deck. The air, that morning, in that magical and solitary place was completely still. In front of me, was the lungs of our planet. The first few shafts of sunlight began to undrape a dense veil of mist that was nestling among the wooded mountains. And slowly, minute by minute, the world’s oldest tropical rainforest peaks out. The song-birds, the tunesmiths of Borneo perform a morning orchestra, followed by the occasional wooting and hooting of gibbons and the incessant calls of hornbills. This doesn’t mean any less flutter of activity at the observation deck; tripods, time-lapses, shutter clicks and soft murmurs were just as prominent to pay heed.

When we were about to leave the deck, I felt a strong chill of regret. As a photo-enthusiast, I realized that I failed to make justice to this magical morning with my photographs. Later that night, I made a decision to go to the sunrise tower next morning. The guide informed the driver to pick me up at 5 A.M again. That night, I couldn’t contain the excitement and thrill, as I dreamed about taking in all of the rainforest to myself, for hours admiring comfortably till the entire shroud of mist settled down.

I woke up to the peak of my excitement, the next morning. I sat beside my bed, around 4 A.M, waiting to hear the rattling sounds of my safari vehicle. It was 5:15 A.M and the driver didn’t show up yet. My hopes started diminishing. Later, I found that a group of research interns from Poland were about to leave to the same sunrise tower. I tagged along with them. But to my dismay, the observation tower was brimming with people unlike the previous morning. The dense veil of cloud stayed frozen over the canopy and it seemed it would to take several hours on row, for the shroud to settle down. Sadly enough, I was told that no vehicle would be available to pick me up after hours, if I don’t leave the place along with the Poland group.  The regret grew manifold. But nevertheless, these two mornings will be the ones  I wish to re-imagine, dream, love and muddle about a million times in memory.

PART IV

Exploring Nature Trails, Danum Valley Field Centre:

The Danum Valley Field centre employs rangers whom you will have to hire if you'd like to trek deep into the forest. Shorter treks along the fringes of the field centre area can be done on your own. So, when we took a short trek into the forest one evening, it was a unique experience that made me feel like I was getting lost but yet finding myself. We entered the forest in search of the tree platform, which we heard was a bird watchers' delight. There were hardly any signs that marked the trail to the tree platform; I wouldn't be surprised if all the signage had been eaten up by the foliage litter. Every turn we took along the way felt like a wrong turn and as we proceeded deeper into the forest, sweat began cascading down our foreheads. But whenever I started feeling consumed entirely by fear, I ran into something that distracted me & broke my fears, if only momentarily.

 

I cannot explain to you the feeling of being humbled by the majestic Koompassia Excelsa, but I can tell you that it made me forget the fact that I was getting lost in the middle of the world's oldest rainforest. Every time I bent to look at the wonderful patterns on the large fungi, I forgot that I was getting lost. Every time I looked up in the sky, trying in vain to spot the top of dipterocarp tree, I forgot that I was getting lost. It got dark before we could find the tree platform & we managed to find our way out with some difficulty. We spent the next half an hour listening the late evening calls of the Borneo's birds & insects. When that day ended, I had no idea I would dream about it for weeks to come.

Kolkata: Through the eyes of a commuter

Kolkata paints a multitude of facets to its landscape—ranging from Howrah to Victoria, rasagolla to hilsa, literature to architecture, ablutions to prayers, bengali sweets to bustling streets. Among all the facets of the cityscape, I find one aspect, singularly interesting—the city's commute.

The everyday routine of commuting on trams and trains,  iconic yellow taxis and pulled human rickshaws, might have ceased to fascinate the vibrant locals but not yet, to a new person in the city.

This is my visual journey, as I transit through the city on taxis, trams and on foot. Kolkata soaked up my senses to the brim with the energy vibes of daybreak and the hustle of twilight. Oftentimes, the conversation between the two of us—the people and Me—was devoid of words. Because we shared, a Smile.

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The Sundarbans

When I first heard about Sundarbans in 8th standard geography class, I was hardly interested. The black and white pages of my geography textbook failed to captured the colors  of this unique forest. And about a year back, a Nat Geo documentary set things right by painting the true colors of Sundarbans. As I read more & saw more, the calling of the Sundarbans grew stronger. And now, I have seen Sundarbans in 3 forms: In black and white text; In a colorful documentary; And, the most exciting of all, abject fairness of reality. From indifference to curiosity to amazement, this is my journey through Sundarbans.

Fort Kochi - A little known treasure

Fort Kochi is a quaint little European township located to the south-west of mainland Cochin. The land, which was ventured by the Portuguese, Dutch, British, Jewish & Chinese explorers, retains a rich assortment of age-old legacies even today. As a souvenir of their visit, these explorers have left behind churches, architectural bungalows, synagogues, Chinese fishing nets, art galleries, and antiques that are strewn everywhere on the narrow streets of Fort Kochi in a pleasant abundance.

In Fort Kochi, every door and window is an excellent photo opportunity. Every door and window has a story to tell. Pay heed to those stories and you will certainly be taken back in time, starting from the 14th century. Though rampant political disputes led to constant destruction, Fort Kochi’s architectural beauty was never to be amassed. Trader after trader came to this land seeking spices. And, slowly but steadily they contributed to Fort Kochi’s architectural wonders. May be those were the best days of Fort Kochi. Over the past few years, the attention of this tiny region has turned entirely towards fishing and tourism. And now everything takes place unhurriedly, in a homey, laid-back fashion with the grace of age-old customs along the shores of the rich Arabian Sea and the town rests peacefully centuries later.

1. A Walk through the by lanes of Fort Kochi

The streets are calm and oftentimes, there is no one to disturb the quiet. But for a vivid observer there can be lot of happening in the streets—mosses stricken walls, some graffiti painted, some decorated by the early morning dews, colorful single-storeyed bungalows, abandoned buildings, vintage doors and windows. And for a heart that follows feathers, the quest is fulfilled—a passel of pigeons whoosh swiftly along the slopy sun-shade, a swoop of seagulls fly high with the best one leading the flock, or spot a lonely sparrow in her blissful heaven where her silence and solitude are melded into one.

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2. At the Mahatma Gandhi Beach

Oftentimes, huge monster ships sail over the grey sea, slaying its way through the thick sheet of morning haze.In Fort Kochi, the sea port is busier than the waves, both at dawn and dusk.Only now and again, a tiny wave makes a barely audible slurp as it hits upon the rocks of the embankment. 

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And where there is beach, there is emotion too :) 

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3. The Art and Ambiance 

Much of Fort Kochi's ambiance reflects the colonial rule. The ancient buildings are now a specimen of  Portuguese, Dutch and Jewish architecture. Some of them are converted into hotels, some into art galleries and art cafés—where the art treasures of the bygone era are now preserved. Pay a visit to the David Art Gallery. And let the eyes of the portraits converse with your mind. When you are left isolated in the hall, these paintings can either harp in impulse of thoughts or cease your mind and make you standstill.

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4. The St.Francis Church 

St.Francis Church - the oldest and the first European church built in India, circa 1503 by the Portuguese. This church was where Vasco da Gama was buried for 14 years. For centuries, this modest structure has been home to a battalion of voices, a multitude of prayers, joy and sorrow, destruction and rejuvenation.

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                     'For Men may come and Men may go but I go on forever..'              

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5. The Jew Town, Mattancherry

 The streets are colorful and vibrant. The Jew town is adorned by colorful artifacts—unique antique pieces, intricately carved wall hangings, innumerable statue of gods of different religion, and even a variety of apparel that keeps calling for a purchase—Mattancherry will pull you in, for a shopping loot.

The Jew town demands that you know a little bit of its burgeoning past so that you’d appreciate its present better. Mattancherry was a trade hub for its invaders (predominantly Jews) who traded spices viz. pepper and turmeric. At present, a handful of Jew families have settled down in Mattancherry and the rest migrated to their homeland leaving their Hebrew imprinted boards behind, to feel the traces of Jerusalem in Kerala. The town awes the visitors with its age-old ethnicity, social history, diversified settlements and the peaceful co-existence of Temples, Mosques, Churches and Synagogues (a Jewish place of worship).

The Paradesi Synagogue is the only functional synagogue in Mattancherry and it is closed on Fridays and Saturdays, as you can see :)

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6. The Chinese Fishing Nets, Vypeen Island

 The Chinese fishing nets was introduced by the Chinese explorer, Zheng He. As I walk alongside the seacoast of Vypeen Island, I was glad to see how the nets operate. It operates on a cantilever system where the 10 m high net, hanging on one end of the beam is counterbalanced by huge stones on the other. The empty net is then lowered in the sea for a few minutes and then lifted up with a variety of fishes.The yield may seem meagre.  

But, to my surprise the yield wasn't so bad . 

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7. The Kashi's Art Cafe, Fort Kochi

The art cafe's ambience is very different from the rest. The cafe welcomes with a display of contemporary art sculptures and wall hangings, each of which is capable to hold a stare for a while ,  the cobble-stone  pathway leads into the main cafe and the sun rays steal a glance through the canopy of leaves which serves as a roof of the cafe. A leisurely place to have breakfast amidst the gallery of  fine arts or to read a favorite novel in an unhurried pace over a cup of hot chocolate—the cafe just lets you do the same.And that's precisely why every traveler to Fort Kochi  pays a visit to Kashi's Art Cafe for sure. 

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8. Kathakali at The Greenix Village, Fort Kochi

Every day, the art centre offers a variety of  dance and martial art performances—Kathakali, Mohiniatam,Theyyam, Koodiyattam, Kalaripayattu. The art centre also houses an elegant dance theatre, curio shop, book shop and an amazing art museum. The visitors are allowed to see the make-up done for the artist before the dance performance.

At the dance theatre:

Once the make-up session was over, we entered the dance theatre. And surprisingly, we were the only Indian nationals in the theatre that seated about 50 odd people! The show commenced. All lights off. Silence. Darkness. Within a few seconds, the audio of the narrator breaks the silence and welcomes the whole lot for the evening. A circular beam of light appears, illuminating the centre of the stage and slowly the artists flash a parade of their expressions. As we were seated in the last row, the scene was even more exhilarating—the foreground was dotted with silhouetted audience and the main subjects on the stage were striking, bright and vibrant.

The narrator continues to elaborate the history of the art form and the characterization of each artist. The artists enacted a short excerpt from the Mahabaratha. The narration, music and the dance are overwhelmingly in sync. The facial expressions of the artists are close to indescribable and they knew how to control each and every facial muscle, especially cheekbones, lips, eyes and eyebrows. I—another silhouetted figure standing in a hardly visible corner of the dance theatre—am constantly clicking photos until my fingers turn numb. Then again, the artists' movements and expressions provoke indefatigable vigour to take more photographs and that was true for every other photography-enthusiast in the theatre.  

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Fort Kochi is certainly not for the adventure seekers. That being said, Fort Kochi is a endless adobe of relaxation—to settle down in silence, in art, besides the sea, over a cup of coffee, or a leisurely walk, or exchange ideas with people worldwide, to picture the past, to mind-travel a couple of centuries back, to imagine, to admire the colorful and to appreciate the unagitated calmness of this quaint little town. Fort Kochi.

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