Experiencing the wild can have a surprisingly calming effect, realises Saimi Sattar
This was damaged by a tusker which had taken affront to a tiger having dared to cross his path,” said Bhagwati Prasad Dhyani, gesturing to the remains of a magnificent column at the Vatanvasa Gate which marks the entry into the 301. 17 sq km of the Kalaghar Tiger Reserve lies in the Lansdowne division of the Pauri district of Uttarakhand. It is a part of the 1,286 Corbett National Park where Dhyani has been working as a Van Daroga with the Uttarakhand Forest Department since 2003. While the big cat got away, the gate which proclaimed the existence of the feline species — with a photograph — within the Kalaghar Tiger Reserve was not as lucky. He gestured to the building next to the gate and said, “I was standing on the roof top and crouching. It was a sight, both scary and magnificent at the same time, which surpassed much of what I’ve seen.” Incidentally, Dhyani, while walking home one day, encountered a tiger less than three feet away. He just stood and waited. “The truth is just like any other animal which is a prey for the carnivores, humans too can’t react or even say a word when we are face to face with any of the big cats. We are stunned into silence,” he said. The tiger walked away and Dhyani lived to recount the tale. As he continued to regale us with incidents of his close encounters with the wild kind, we spotted a fox quickly making its way into the depths of the forest.
This unexpected meeting with Dhyani set the tone for our entire trip especially since the time we crossed Kotdwar. Even before we reached Vatanvasa gate which demarcates the starting point of the jungle safari, we’d lost count of the number of times wild fowls had crossed our path, screeching and scrambling as the car came careening down the road. On the way there were also scattered hutments enclosed by electric wires to ensure that the wild animals did not gatecrash as uninvited guests at a family dinner.
HIT THE ROAD
The four of us had started much before dusk from Delhi but, since we were more focussed on having a good time rather than reaching the destination at any fixed time, we finally arrived at the resort in the late afternoon. But if you are the kind of traveller who doesn’t care much to stop at scenic spots to soak in the views during a journey, it can take about seven and a half hours. It was fascinating to watch the sunlight make patches on the surface as it streamed in through the tree cover as the car ploughed its way through the wooded road. It was akin to chasing clouds in the sky, which has been one of my favourite past times since childhood. It smelled green due to the dense trees, which was a sensorial delight and an immediate mood lifter for a city-slicker.
WHAT LIES INSIDE
The part through which we were travelling is in the Pauri Garhwal region which encompasses 70 per cent of the Corbett Tiger Reserve while the remaining 30 per cent in Kumaon, where Jim Corbett — the legendary tiger conservationist — lived. With a mix of elevation and plains, varied temperatures and several water bodies as well as sparse human settlements, this side holds out promises of frequent spottings and keeps them — sometimes making people fearful.
LANDING GROUND
At Vanvasa Resort in Juee village, home for the next three nights, I met another visitor, Sudheer Gusain, who recalled that while driving, early in the morning, he was practically sandwiched in between two elephants. “In those five seconds, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Whether I should wake my three friends and run while leaving the vehicle behind or park quietly in one corner or speed off and more,” he said. He chose to step on the horn and the gas to make a quick getaway as he knew that elephants, when angry, could be extremely dangerous.
Vanvasa, which means abode in the forest, actually lives up to the idea that went in naming it. It is an existence that is unhurried, almost a step back in time. Mobile connectivity is low and there are no TVs in the rooms to ensure that the real world does not encroach upon the cocoon that you are lulled into — however temporary. The chirping of birds rather than incessant honking of horns makes for a pleasant distraction. The faint rustling of trees creates an ambience which is so relaxed that it makes you sink deeper into its comfort even though it is faintly unfamiliar or buried deep into a nostalgic past of a city slicker in her 40s.
One evening I decided to catch up with the hotelier, Satender Rawat, who much like me had spent much of his adult life in the capital, before deciding to step back and connect with the land of his ancestor. This property spread over 30 acre, powered by his vision, foregoes commercial gains in favour of ensuring that each of the cottages and one villa has unobstructed view of the mountains. “Three more rooms are coming up and eventually I plan to have 40,” said Rawat for whom it is clearly a passion project. A clear indication of the same are the more than a 1,000 variety of trees carted from Meerut, Kolkata and even Bengaluru. Rawat showed me around pointing out each of the trees by its common and botanical names. When I asked him about the number of gardeners, he answered with an impish smile, “Just one. He’s standing in front of you. The rest water the plants. Transplanting full-grown trees takes a minimum of six months but it adds to the experience of the visitors.”
On the last day of our stay, we accompanied a steward, Soori — who looks older than his 45-years, thanks to his grey hair, but is surprisingly agile on his feet — to see a huge water tank being constructed to supplement the existing water resource. A tiger pugmark near the tank, which is about three km away from the resort, was the real attraction. An amazing raconteur, Soori told us about the goings-on in the surrounding villages, pointed out herbs and imparted local wisdom.
On our way back, we competed to test our physical fitness at the outdoor adventure sports area. It was here that Rawat, who by that time had come to check upon our well-being, told us that he calls Soori his ‘local reporter’ — clearly for a reason — and promised us that the journalist fraternity had more up its sleeves. He was hinting at Soori’s talent which is not limited to story-telling. At night, on a day when the resort which is usually full-up was deserted as it was the mid-week after a long weekend, Soori entertained us by singing Garhwali and Nepali songs which was accompanied by energetic dancing in the gazebo attached to the dining area. Equipped with a keyboard, a TT table and more, it doubles up as an activity area where, in the evening, there is a magic-tricks show for children and a musical one for adults. It was in the gazebo that Rahul Mukherjee and Frank, the in-house singers, entertained us with a mix of slow, romantic and fast-paced songs every evening.
The fourth morning, after a leisurely breakfast of Bichchu buti ka saag, a local delicacy, and potato spring onion gravy cooked in Garhwali style, we hit the road on our way to the capital. And while I carried the fond memories of the place and the people, I also left a part of me behind. Till we take abode in the forest...again.
Photo Courtesy: Pankaj Kumar
