Re-discovering Kolkata

Mullick Ghat continues to be one of the oldest bathing ghats of Kolkata. This ghat lies where Mahatma Gandhi road intersects the Strand Road right behind Kolkata's largest wholesale flower market.
Trampling through the mud and dirt and squashing multicoloured debris of promiscuous flowers, as one climbs down the brick red staircase one stumbles upon a sepia coloured world very similar to that of Huxley's Benaras and Renoir's River.
As the first rays of the sun kisses the water of the river Hooghly, the Mullick Ghat slowly wakes up from its soft slumber and then as the morning meander towards day, various kind of people start thronging the ghat for varied reasons. Some come for a bath while some consider a dip here to wash away their sins. A favourite with early morning muscle-builders, one corner of this ghaat is converted into an open-air amphitheatre with pehelwaans in their loin cloths wrestling their way to glory. The long matted haired sadhu and his sonorous chanting, a corpulent man, with eyes half closed, enjoying the pleasure of a warm massage amid the entire hustle bustle, and the rituals of birth and death, this ghat sees it all. However, the most amusing sight here is the weird queue in which people sit and brush their teeth.
This, however, is not the original bathing ghat built by the Mullicks of Burrabazar but erected by the British in their name. The silt of the Ganges rendered the old ghats redundant and the British first rebuilt the ghats while making the strand road but with more silting, these new ghats too suffered the same fate and were again rebuilt as the strand bank road came into existence. This is why the maps of 1794, 1820 and 1890 show three different locations for each of these ghats.
Ensconced in the silvery shadow of the cantilever wonder, the Howrah Bridge; this ghat has a special 'Zenana Ghat' (a section exclusively for women) attached to it which is a witness to that era when women of the aristocratic families were brought here in palanquins. The whole carriage was then dipped into the holy river so that the lady of the house was not seen by the proletariat.
Nowadays, this part of the ghat is open to all. Although the filth and stench of this place does not impress too many people, from here the silvery silhouette of the Howrah Bridge along with a pigeon covered sky is absolutely stunning.
Unscathed from the huge waves of urbanisation, time seems to have come to a standstill at this most insignificant bathing ghat of Kolkata. The characters that dwell the place seem to be from a flashback and do not exist in real time or space.
As the effluvia of the day slowly impregnate the morning mist, the activities of this bathing ghat begin to emasculate and by evening, all that remains is the sound of the river gossiping with its banks about the day's scandals.

Wilderness!!!

These empty shoes are full of travel plans...

Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed,
and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel…
- Ulysses


It was Friday and I had just returned from a hectic day at office, another weekend was beckoning me into his lazy arms. Suddenly the spirit of Ulysses possessed me and I decided that I had had enough of measuring the weekend with wine glasses, enough of this epicurean, lotus-eater's life and seriously needed a break.
Well, what followed next was whirlwind packing and off I went to spend my weekend in the laps of nature!
As the Darjeeling Mail reached New Jalpaiguri (NJP) station at around 8.30 am, I was still contemplating on whether to go to my good old Darjeeling or try out some new option. And Ulysses came to the rescue again and I resisted the temptation of relishing an English breakfast at Keventers and opted for Jaldapara instead. After a teeth-tattering, bumpy ride through a collage of assorted potholes when I finally reached my destination, it was almost 11.30. I had no booking anywhere, but kept my fingers crossed and the Jaldapara Tourist Lodge did not disappoint me. After some lazing around and grabbing a quick brunch, I headed straight for the evening jeep safari.
Kissing the foot of the Bhutan hills, Jaldapara Wild Life Sanctuary was established in 1941 and is famous for the Great Indian One Horned Rhinos. This 216 sq km of deciduous forest is a montage of woods, grasslands, swamps and streams and is checkered by rivers like Torsa, Budhi Torsa, Hollong, Chirakhawa, Malangi, Kalijhora, Bhaluka and Sissamara. The sanctuary boasts an impressive population of fauna with 33 species of mammals, 240 species of birds, 16 species of reptiles, 30 species of fishes and eight species of turtles.
As my jeep roved through the splendid forest of Jaldapara, the smell of the dense foliage engulfed my senses. The jeep safari is a two-hour one and includes two watchtowers. From the top of the towers vast sheathes of grasslands could be seen. I spotted a slender peacock catwalk the ramp of the forest flaunting its long magnificent tail.

When I reached the second watchtower, the sun was signing out for the day leaving behind an orange hue. On my way back I had a rendezvous with two young elephants and their doting mothers.The mild growl of the engine of our car was enough to scare the youngest of the lot, and the cute and clumsy young thing scurried under his mother's belly, the safest place on earth known to him.
Next morning was the elephant safari. With the crack of dawn I reached Holong from where the safari starts and climbed onto one of the elephants. The virgin forest wrapped in the blanket of morning mist greeted us as our elephant passed through miles of elephant grass (they are called elephant grass as they grow taller than elephants).
During the one-hour safari we spotted a group of playful bisons, a rather grumpy looking rhino, a solitary and serious sambar and dozens of proud peacocks. It is virtually impossible to navigate these areas without an Elephant. It was sheer luck that I managed a room in the much coveted Holong bungalow; the same breathtakingly beautiful bungalow where Aparna Sen's Mr and Mrs Iyer spent that eventful night together.
If one has to feel the splendor the jungles exude at night, there can hardly be any better place than this solitary forest bungalow. There is a narrow stream that runs just next to the bungalow and just across that is a salt lick. At night elephants, bisons, rhinos come down from the jungle to lick the salt. Beyond the salt lick, the forest starts getting dense and as the night descends and the last rays of the sun start to fade out, an eerie feeling creeps in. It was well past midnight, and I was well settled in the cozy screechy bed, when suddenly the guards called; some rhinos are spotted in the salt lick. And what awaited me was an experience of a lifetime; under star-studded canopy of the night sky the guard showed me the ghostly, gray, silhouettes of two rhinos with the help of his flashlight.
As the night dawned into day it was time for me to bid adieu to this mystical forest of Jaldapara. This brief intercourse with nature had soothed all my senses and filled my lungs with enough fresh air to act as a breather for atleast a few months in the claustrophobia of the humdrum city life.