A couple of years ago, we had been on a fun trip to Satpada, the meeting point of the Bay of Bengal and Chilika. This is also known as Dolphin Bay and a half-hour boat ride takes you to the point where, if you are lucky, the cute Irrawaddy Dolphins will show themselves, vanish, bob up again,give you a glimpse of their cute smiling faces and..sorry folks showtime is over!
This post however is not about the dolphins. On the way to Satpada, in Brahmagiri, there is the Alarnath Temple. Legend has it that for the 15 days after Snana Purnima(loosely translated as bathing purnima!) when the Lord Jagannath in Puri is cofined to the sick-room(anasarpindi) after His marathon bath with 108 pitchers of aromatic herbal water drawn from a special well within the temple,devotees wishing to see Him must do so at Alarnath. It is believed that Sri ChaitanyaDev visited the temple in 1610AD after a Divine Call exhorted him to do so. He was so elated that he danced in pure joy and prostrated himself before the Lord. Such was his devotion that the hard stone melted at the points of contact with his body!To this day the imprint remains for us lesser mortals to see,wonder and marvel....
Sometime last week J's friend said that his son was home for a few days prior to his departure for higher studies and that he wanted to show him something different in Orissa. J has long been an ardent Jagannath devotee and he told his friend about Alarnath.It was decided that early on Sunday we would set out for Alarnath.
So J and I were up with the birds(a rare occurence for me!) and on the dot at 5.15 our friends arrived. An uneventful one hour later we were at the Y-junction after Atharanala.Our friend wanted to show his son the chariots which are being readied for the Lord's Rath Yatra on 24 June. So we took the left fork and drove along the Grand Road. There stood those 3 magnificent chariots....artisans were already at work giving the final touches. The largest called Nandighosa has 16 wheels with a height of 45 feet and will be covered in red and yellow cloth...it will carry Jagannath. Jagannath's older brother Balabhadra will be carried on Taladhwaja which is 44 feet in height and has 14 wheels and will be draped in red and green. Little sister Subhadra will travel on the Darpadalana which has 12 wheels, is 43 feet high and will be covered in red and black...
At 6.15 we were on the right fork to Alarnath. The temple gates had just opened at 6.40 when we reached. We were among the first to enter the sanctum sanctorum. The priest showed us the thumb of the Lord which was reportedly scalded when He was eating hot kheer in a hurry!Then we saw the stone slab which bears the impression of Sri Chaitanya's body...the head, the torso, the hands and feet....it was awe-inspiring.
It was only 15 minutes past 7 in the morning. I mentioned that the first catch of the day would be available at the Satpada tourist bungalow.J's friend agreed that it would be a pity giving that a miss! At the tourist bungalow one of the attendants remembered me from our last visit(are we the only ones who look for the first catch?!)...and told us that he could offer prawns tossed in butter garnished with fried onion rings fresh-ground pepper and slit green chillies.Being frail mortals we could not, simply NOT,say no!! Over some hot alu paratha and dahi,AFTER the prawns were devoured, we planned our day.
The Chilika Lake has several islands, some of the more famous ones being NalabanaKalijai,Parikud,Somolo and Dumkudi,Breakfast Island,Honeymoon Island(this has the ruins of a bungalow which was used by an erstwhile ruler for his honeymoon.But it also is known for the limbless lizards..eeks).There is also a Birds Island which has huge white hanging rocks(white because of the bird-droppings!)....We boarded a ferry (along came our SUV too) to an island called Janhikud.This ride took about half-an-hour and we saw schools of small fish and some crabs.I had heard that you could also occasionally spot some water snakes! Thankfully there were none to be seen.At Janhikud we resumed our journey by road and went to the famous Parikud Palace.The caretaker probably mistook us for "authorised visitors"...without our asking, he took us on a tour of the grounds, showed us the huge pond which yeilds an annual catch of 4 quintals of fish, opened the door of the durbar(its musty smell was overpowering)and also introduced us to the resident ram which loves munching on brinjals!(nice knowing you Ram!and I didn't know your breed was so lazy that you almost fell off while trying to bite the brinjal in a supine position....ovine intelligence demonstrated)
Our drive took us through several villages and narrow roads with occasional glimpses of the Chilika. Our driver informed us that a few years ago it wouldn't have been possible to drive through like this. You had to use boats. On the way I noticed the white and black Indian Pied Kingfisher(which we do not see in our urban areas now) and also an impressive golden brown Brahminy Kite. We decided to go to Rambha for lunch and maybe a speed-boat ride to Kalijai Island. The Orissa Tourism facility at Rambha has had a face-lift and the room we rented for a few hours was very comfortable. Lunch was simple. Prawns, grilled fish, dal, vegetables and rice.The manager informed us that the boat was ready but warned us that late afternoons the weather is unpredictable. It might suddenly turn stormy. I recalled a childhood incident....an amateur astrologer had predicted that I would drown. Even before the others could vote, I suggested a trip to Potagarh in nearby Ganja District. Diversionary tactic paid off.
Potagarh is situated on the banks of the Rushikulya river. Almost a stone's throw from the Jayshree Chemical Factory, a side road leads you to it. We drive through the gates of the fort over what-was-once the drawbridge and what-was-once a moat. The fort is in ruins but the wall remains. Standing guard. And the armoury, the barracks, the place for horses etc. Even a tunnel! And the dungeons! Potagarh was a French port but some historians feel that it may have been built by the fourth sultan Ibrahim Qutubshah.The East India Company occupied it in 1768.We climb on to the wall and peer over the edge. The Rushikulya river, serene in the pre-monsoon, looks picturesque. In the distance some buffalows are wading across in a neat row. We note the harbour below.As I idly glanced skyward,hoping to note the first signs of the elusive monsoon I saw something which I will treasure always. The Pallas' Fishing Eagle, a magnificent bird with a wide wingspan(about 5 feet) resplendent in a white underbelly, was coasting. I believe it saw me staring, mouth agape. And I think it winked!.......A young lad, definitely a local, scrambles up and offers his services as a guide. Despite our distinctly cold reaction he proceeds to tell us of the cemetery nearby where the graves of some of the people who lived in the settlement were. About 8 years ago I had visited the cemetery with YBhai and Sdi(my all-time favourite people, but more about them later). J's friend was also aware of such a place. So we decided to go there.The approach road(if it can be called one) is a dirt track lined on either side by thick Kia(kewra) bushes. Our vehicle hit a huge pile of sand and ground to a halt. The party descended and wanted to walk. I joined in, reluctantly.K ia, especially when it is beginning to bloom(as in now) is known to play host to snakes; and it was nearing sundown. My apprehsions were brushed away by my companions. We started our walk. Suddenly, a jackal appeared, looked quizzically at us and darted into the undergrowth.Then a couple of young boys appeared with a knife at the end of a pole. The men in our group had walked beyond sight. As manfully as I could, I asked them what they were up to.They must have thought we were part of some "official" group. Very respectfully, and ready to run, they told us that they were collecting the Kia flower to sell in the nearby village market. And showed us their harvest.It smelled so good. A delicate whiff of kewra. They allowed us to take two.Now we hurried to catch up with the men. The kai forest ended in a large expanse of green. Beyond that were fields of ripening chillies. And across from there we spotted the gravestones.The headstones on the graves there(around 25 of them) told a story. The youngest person to be buried was a 5 year old girl in 1756. The earliest grave was that of a person who died in 1706. Two little children, felled by malaria, lie buried next to each other.The chief of the settlement also lies here.
The jackals now appeared in multiples and looked in no mood to tolerate flesh and blood in this place of spirits! We made our way back. Boarded the vehicle and headed back. Our mandatory halt at the Chilika Dhaba for dinner. Crab Masala, prawns and roti. This is such a bustling place. Sarangi, the boy serving us, has featured in the NDTV good food show. He tells us that every day, 400 crabs,70kgs of prawns,100kgs of fish,100kgs of chicken are cooked apart from rice dal roti and vegetables......Food for thought.
Home at ten-thirty. Good day,what? Good night.And yes the Kia flower looks elegant in an imitation crystal vase and the room is suffused with its aroma.

Why do we have to make choices? I mean if there was only one thing to do at a time, life would be so uncomplicated....but no we have been blessed with "free will", so, choose we will. I remember reading that if we look back on our life we will find certain 'ctitical crossroads'(cc) where what we have 'chosen' to do has determined the course of our lives till the next cc,and so on.In effect life thus is never a straight line......
Last week I encountered my nth cc. The Vagina Monologues or a night ride to the "muhana"(where the river meets the sea) of the Rushikulya River to watch the annual spectacle of thousands of Olive Ridley turtle hatchlings scrambling into the sea.I took a deep breath and chose.
It was 1930 hrs when our rumbling stomachs urged a halt at the Chilika Dhaba.If you are ever visiting the Chilika Lake(and here I will simply assume that no reader of my blog does not know where or what Chilika Lake is!)you simply must must eat a meal here.This eatery falls on the right side of the National Highway just after the point where you turn left for Barkul. The steward recognized us and ushered us into a special dining area. He then announced the catch of the day....a 2 kilo green Chilika crab. A 10 minute wait and the poor crustacean was on our table as a spicy crab masala along with jumbo prawns. This is a no-frills place so the only accompaniments to our dinner were some local baby onions, roasted papad and some very mean green chillies along with rice.
Journey resumed at 2030hrs(yes the service is phataphat as was our devourment of the meal!).Some 30 minutes after that we turned left for a village called Gokharkuda.About 10 kilometers seaward through narrow kutcha bumpy roads and we thought we had arrived. We had been told to go to the cyclone-rescue-shelter where our local escorts were waiting for us. What we thought was the CRS turned out to be a local distillery!They directed us to turn right so turn right we did. 3 kms later the CRS stood shillouted on stilts. We were met by our two local escorts, members of the Turtle protection volunteer team. Disembarking from the cool confines of the Chevrolet SUV we were led to marshy land. We waded through slush, walked on ridges,crossed backwaters over a rickety bamboo bridge, trudged through the river shallows and panted 2 kms(this is my estimate....cut down to 200 mteters by the more fit members of our team!) on the beach. The silence was palpable,broken only by the sound of the waves and the occasional swishing sound of the adult Olive Ridley Turtles in the shallows of the backwaters. The moon shone silver and serene on the water.Our escorts pointed at the indentations on the beach. And then,while we were generally taking in the ambience....the Miracle happened! From one indentation a dark mushroom emerged,slowly. The mushroom grew in size..and squiggled..and then started to disperse!The hatchlings! About 150 of them(our escort informed us that during the mass-nesting period,known as arribada, the female lays upto 180 eggs in the sand and buries them deep.45 days later, the hatchlings emerge) started their scramble toward the sea, some 60 meters away, guided by the moonlight reflecting off the waterfront. Almost simultaneously the other indentations also gave up their treasures. The whole stretch of beach was crawling.Perfect little miniatures. Our escort was carrying a CFL torch which glows white,like the moonlight,and he swung his light at one such mushroom,but in a direction away from the water...and guess what happened? The tiny little things scampered toward this light! Demonstration over,he quickly switched off his torch and the little ones reoriented.We stood rooted to our spot and took in this wonderful sight......we were there for more than an hour and every moment was special,magical,beautiful.
On the drive back all of us were either chattering excitedly about our experience or reflecting quietly on the very special experience of witnessing a rare spectacle.....It is believed that the Olive Ridley returns to nest on the same beach that it hatched. Although experts estimate that only about 20 percent survive my prayers are with each of those little darlings.
The day after our trip my sister-in-law told me about the rollicking, risque,scandalously irreverent Vagina Monologues and how much they all loved it. I had only a twinge of regret. I repeat, only a twinge. This is one CC I can never regret.

resumption

Okay so I haven't written anything in a long while...but so much has happened. The leap to mother-in-law has happened but hey it really doesn't feel different!And my husband has opted for retirement from his job but hey it doesn't feel different!And the world is all set to make the great transition into the fifth dimension, but hey even that doesn't feel different....Hoo Boy do I need the Maggi H'n'S...
Discovered just now that I had a post in an earlier avatar which kind of adheres to my promise of recounting early days in my life. Pcube has read it and commented but I want to share those experiences with you too..so here it is(before I became ooffifty)

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Have been reading a few blogs lately. I thought they would provide the impetus to write but surprisingly what I feel is diffident. The young ones today are so lucid, they infuse such dynamism into ordinary humdrum lives that my 'extraordinary' life seems pale.And what, you will enquire,if you have the time, have been the salient features of my extraordinary life? Oh things like flying kites on Makar Sankranti with my brothers and cousins on our rooftop and being Machiavellian about consequences(imagine!), wreaking revenge on poor Gulshan for biting my favourite cousin.....what a satanic mix of chilli sauce-pepper(fresh ground)-salt-dettol(we were imitating good samaritans!) we applied on the poor biter. I am sure she lost her nascent-cannibalist tendencies forever!(all's well that ends well?)To continue with the extraordinary features...going on a shikar with my brand new brother-in-law.He was the SDO in a district in southern Orissa and they had declared an RBT maneater since the beast had mangled/scratched/bitten/eaten a few tribals.I was all of 8 years old and had been despatched from home to keep my sister(cousin)company...BIL thought that he should not expose me to any danger so I was supposed to be in the care of the caretaker at some forest rest-house while the bravehearts went on a survey trip. Poor BIL had not reckoned about a CITY-bred precocious SIL.The 8 year old screamed and threw a tantrum.BIL then decided to include her in the posse.So the jeep arrived.Driver,my tender self, sister and Braveheart in the front,in that order.The rear had the spotter, the gunman and a shikari(fine distinction,that!). We drove along the ghat road, the spotter waving his lights into the deep dark forests on the right.We spotted deer, sambhar, mouse-deer,rabbits(their eyes gleam green)and then leopards,civet cats and ,hold your breath,the RBT(the eyes gleam red)... our shikari team member exhorted us to stop breathing!Those menacing red eyes retreated and BIL relaxed(ManekaG would have medalled him!) but just then old YogiB meandered across the road.Alladin's genie had a serious rival in BIL...in the twinkling of an eye I was physically hoisted from my safe haven next to the driver and placed right-most where braveheart originally was.Fortunately the shikari loved YogiB comics and did not want to harm kin so YB-kin ambled across to the nearest bee-hive and enjoyed a variation of the early bird getting the worm...So sweet....Oh and then the time when we decided to "verify" if dogs were indeed "natural" swimmers...our mongrel had fathered a litter. We picked the strongest and dumped him into our pond. The little chap floundered but waded to safety ultimately. Then we threw him a little further.Same result.So our sadist brains told us to tie a weight around its neck.Did that but even then puppy reached shore.So like true researchers we increased the weight to a brick. He drowned.So b-a-d..Then lets skip a few years and its a trip to Nandan Kanan with my Rotaract group....most of my friends chew paan with tobacco.I am all of 17 and insist that I be given a special paan. To the credit of my friends, all of them married and doing very well profesionallynow, tried to dissuade me.But in the face of my resoluteness I was given a "dada special"....the world spun, I wobbled,my friend who I thought looked like a frog was ACTUALLY a frog and my surdee friend's army-disposal jeep was an advanced time machine...HGW's vehicle took us to Pipli where we had the divinest tea and pakoras...Lets cut to my marriage. 1981. Great style..Rahim the Chef had to prove a point. His biryani, singapori prawns and vegetable navratna are the stuff of lore today.Oh and Subudhi's Ice-creams....27 years on and folks talk about it!Advantage of pioneers?