It wasn't about the flowers alone...
Though, it did start with the flowers...
We had been talking about a picnic for a long time now. We even planned one. Almost... Then it got cancelled due to the ongoing Ganapati festival. And then it happened real suddenly.
It was a Tuesday. 17th Sept. Evening, past 6:30 pm. Suddenly the idea popped up into Sushant's mind. Lets go to Kaas Pathaar. When? How about this weekend itself? And that's how fast it was decided.
The planning phase had its fair share of glitches... It was short notice for most people, so half the people from our list were "tentative" till the very last minute. Our regular travels guy Ramakant said his usual 11 and 14 seater vehicles were already booked. So we booked the only option we were afforded - a 17 seater bus. Till the very end, we did not know how many, out of the 15 odd people, who had shown interest in the trip, would make it... Finally, 9 guys were in. I don't know how it happened, but I landed up being the reluctant organizer of the trip. It had been an unusually busy week and I could hardly find time to plan, coordinate and make things happen. There was no specific plan, right till the last day. Sushant researched and came up with various places we could visit. Finally a rough plan was in place... Even the schedule had to undergo changes. We had originally planned to leave at 9:00 pm. We has to shift it to 10:30 pm in order to accommodate Ashish, who had UK timings in the new company and could not leave before 11, and Amol, who had an important late call to attend.
19 Sept. TGIF... We left from our office at J B Nagar by 10:00. The bus was late. There were 7 of us - Sushant, Rizwan, Sachin, Satish, Prashant (Satish's friend), Jenil and yours truly. We would be picking up two others on the way. The bus arrived and we finally said "Raam raam" to the office and the week past, at 10:45 pm.
We picked up a formally dressed Ashish just past the Gandhinagar intersection. We had to pick up Amol (Sushant's friend) at Airoli. But thanks to my utter lack of knowledge of the roadways past Mumbai proper, we took a wrong turn towards Chembur. We had to retrace our tracks, to much leg-pulling from everyone and to much consternation of myself...
We turned right from the Eastern express highway towards Airoli and picked up Amol there. Now all were on board. The bus picked up its arduous way through the Friday night traffic of the city towards the Mumbai-Pune expressway. The driver was playing some pretty cool songs. There was excitement in the air. People were chatting, cracking jokes, catching up with old friends. Some were dozing off, some were already fast asleep. Ashish, who had recently moved to another firm, was trying to get me to talk. But I was too busy trying to stay awake and alert. Last time, I had dozed off besides the driver. This time, I was determined to avoid that.
We stopped at a food plaza just before the Mumbai Pune expressway. It was late. Past one o'clock. The group was already experiencing a mild case of travel-fatigue. Some were sleeping. Some had bladder emergencies to attend to. And some were famished. We had some food. I had some cold coffee. Then we started off again, tearing through the dark fabric of the night.
The dark world inside the bus was soon plunged into silence. Heads started nodding off and lolling to the sway of the bus. As the witching hour approached, Sushant pointed something out to me. Satish, who had been snoozing soundly even when we had taken a food break, was now sleeping contentedly, lying down on the aisle between the seats. Yes, night had finally descended on us all. The coffee helped me stay awake.
Sometime past the witching hour, we were passing through the outskirts of Pune. The buildings there look nice and well-planned. Sachin, who had been awake all the time, pointed out a township to our left. It was built around a small water body; natural or man-made, I couldn't make out in the dark. But it looked beautiful, as it reflected the pinpoints of lights from the buildings surrounding it.
Thankfully, Sushant relieved me by 4. I went back and had a blessed wink. When I got up, we were nearing Satara. It was cold outside. Almost all the windows were shut.
We entered Satara after 5 in the morning. Sushant was guiding the driver using the map he had saved on his phone. I dozed off again, and the next time I opened my eyes, everyone was awake. It was cool outside. One could feel the freshness of the air that was seeping in. There was a subdued sense of excitement in the air. We were meandering along the slope of a hill, over a narrow curving road which was quite well-maintained and pot-holes-free. We passed some houses and hotels that were built almost touching the cliff face; so that one would have an unhindered view of the green slope of the surrounding hills and the city far below. Everywhere it was green. The slopes were covered with beautiful green grass. There were trees along the road. It was like entering a hill station.
We stopped at a spot on the way. There was a small temple at the side of the road. Behind the temple was a small clearing that afforded a spectacular view of the surrounding landscape. As we stepped out of the bus, the cold hit us. It was shocking to suddenly feel the sharp cold after the comfortable warmth of the cocooned inside of the bus. My hands were shaking. My teeth were chattering. The wind blew hard and that's what made the cold so intense - the wind-chill factor. But the air was fresh - almost like an elixir to a city-dweller like me who is used to breathing in the foul polluted air. It was so invigorating that any sign of sleepiness simply vanished.
The view was beautiful. The hills and the entire landscape were covered with post-monsoon greenery. There was a lake below, with green hills nearby. The sky was cloudy and grey. We captured quite a few pics here, and then moved on.
Not farther down the road, we stopped again. This time near a long clearing covered with lush green grass. There were trees on one side, all growing besides each other, like a platoon standing in formation. The clearing fell off to a spectacular view of the lake below. The hills opposite to this one had their heads thrust into the misty grey clouds. The constantly moving cottony tendrils seems mystical from so nearby.
As we moved on further, the air no longer remained crystal clear. Soon there was a mist around us. Visibility went down. The road was flanked with trees that merged into the grey mist. The black strip of the road itself seemed to disappear into the mist ahead.
After a while, the trees flanking the road became sparse, giving way to flat land covered with short velvety grass. Suddenly, there were wire mesh fences on either side of the road.
We had reached the famous Kaas Pathaar.
Kaas Pathaar is the famous plateau of flowers near Satara. A world heritage site that's frequented by tourists from far and wide, due to the colourful flowers that grow here. Its a plateau at high altitude. So when we reached there, early in the morning at 7 o'clock, it felt like we had literally entered the clouds. Visibility was low, as the road and the fence seemed to dissolve into the grey mist. Behind the fence, on either side of the road, were green plains that seemed to merge effortlessly into the grey mist a few meters behind the fence.
As we descended down the bus, I spied a feebly lit globe of light hanging low in the sky behind us. Someone pointed at it and said, hey look at the moon. But when the constantly shifting tendrils of grey clouds, parted a bit, the globe grew brighter and intense. It was the Sun, not the Moon.
There was a little shed besides the road. A board nearby gave an introduction to Kaas Pathaar and explained the parking fare. There was no one in the shed, this early in the morning.
We moved off to the left where there was a fenced pathway that led straight into the grass covered green plains. After taking a few steps, we spied the flowers... Little spots of white, red, blue and violet sprinkled on the uniform green for as far as the eyes could see.
The colour-sprinkled green plains faded and disappeared into the mist a few meters away. The mist was ever changing. It just couldn't make up its mind how thin or thick, it wanted to be. One moment, it would grow so thick, that everything beyond a few feet just blurred out and disappeared into its uniform greyness. The next moment, it would thin out to reveal the trees and the hazy contours of the land meters away. The clouds were so low in the sky, it was like the world had suddenly shrunken. The light intensity kept changing every few seconds, intermittently giving a sneak peek of the sun, and then hiding it altogether. At one moment, it felt like dawn, the next, it felt like dusk. It was so unreal, it felt like we had crossed some magical portal and entered a fantasy land in another dimension.
The ever present wind made it very chilly. But by now, the body had gotten used to the chill and it felt nice and fresh, instead of unwelcoming and sharply cold. There was a hell of a lot of humidity in the air. My hair were matted with wetness. The nostrils felt wet and slimy. But instead of being oppressive, the way Mumbai's humidity is, it felt good, invigorating.
After a while, there was no more wire mesh on the fence, just equidistant columns stretching on both sides of the path like mute sentries guarding the sanctity of this nature's bounty. We were free to roam on the plains.
We went in, first carelessly and then gingerly stepping over little young shoots and blossoms. Kaas Pathaar offers a brilliant opportunity for photographing colourful pretty flowers that are rare to come by. But two things are very important - good enough light, and as little wind as possible. But we were not afforded either of these two luxuries. The wind and the clouds were conspiring against us. Hardly was there a moment when the flowers stood still. And the light wasn't bright enough to capture the bright hues of the colourful miracles of nature. We had reached too early. It was frustrating. Finally we had to resort to holding the flowers with our hands in order keep them steady, while the cameras did their work.
As we explored further, we came across a little pond. Right there in the middle of the plains. It must have formed by the collected rain water. It was a nice spot where we took quite a few pics. With people standing on stones jutting out from the middle of the pond. Or sitting down in lotus position at the edge of the pond, like an ancient yogi... It was fun... Cold weather leads to bladder pressure. And so a few of is donated natural minerals to the plants of the famous Kaas Pathaar.
Then we decided to head back. Assuming that the rest of the plateau must be pretty much the same. It was 8 in the morning, and as we retraced our steps, we noticed a lot of people coming in. Suddenly the plains seemed too crowded. We had come in early and lost an opportunity at good photography. But what we had gained was solitude to explore the natural beauty without stumbling upon the crowds of humans that just didn't belong here. It was very sad to note how people unthinkingly, almost ruthlessly, trampled over the beautiful plants and flowers, simply to get themselves photographed. Isn't it sad, that us humans are such an utterly ungrateful and careless race...
We got into the bus and moved on. Instead of retracing our steps, we continued on the Kaas road westwards. Our next stop was Bamnoli, a little village along the banks of the massive water body called the Shivajisagar Lake. While searching for good spots to visit near the Kaas area, he stumbled upon the fact that there were boat rides available here. When we reached there an hour or so later, the booth for boat rides had just opened.
Usually they offer rides to quite a few different points. But during the current season, only 3 options were available. Two points (Triveni Sangam and Datta Mandir) were to the south of Bamnoli. And one point - Tapola, was to the north. We were offered a discount for the package with all 3 options. But time was a constraint. We had to reach Mumbai before midnight (to avoid being charged for the next day as well). Due to which we would have to leave for the way back home by 3 in the afternoon. So we opted for the two points southwards.
They charged us 135 per head. While booking they asked for an ID card of any one person doing the booking. I showed them my PAN card. They duly noted down my PAN number. They also noted down where I had come from and a relative's contact number. When asked, why so much information was required, they claimed it was for both security as well as statistics purpose. All this information went to some local government official.
Each boat can carry up to 12 persons. We were all assigned a single boat. It was a wooden medium sized boat, nearly six feet wide at the center and about twelve feet long. Fore sides, they had rigged it with a little metal ladder, using which we climbed onto it. Aft sides, it sported a rigged engine that looked like it had seen better days. They had put a roof over the boat, supported by metal columns on either side, and a metal framework at the top. The metal framework was covers using a hand- knit mat made up of some tree bark. Over this mat, they had spread tarpaulin sheet. Both at the port and the starboard side, between the columns, they had hung one round life buoy - less as a protection and more as a decoration... There were wooden boards on either side of the boat, and three wooden planks in the middle to seat passengers.
When we all settled down, the guide spun a lever on the engine vigorously. After a few spins, the engine roared to life. For all its ramshackle looks, the engine certainly was well maintained. Then the fellow pulled a gear to set the engine on reverse, went fore, and pushed the boat outward. As the boat picked up momentum, he effortlessly jumped in. He skillfully navigated us away from the bank and into the deep.
The water was pretty clear. The winds made waves on its surface. The opposite bank wasn't very far. It was a gentle slope covered with a carpet of bright green grass. It looked exactly like lawn tennis court or a golf course, except a little tilted, as it rose to form a chain of tree covered hills.
If the rocking bus is a strong sedative, then the swaying boat is a knockout punch. The travel and sleepless night was taking its toll on all of us, making us drowsy. So much so that Sachin almost lay down on the wooden board.
I like boat rides and I was too excited to feel drowsy. I was enjoying the moist breeze caress my face. The gentle swaying of the boat. The rhythmic sloshing sound of the water. The beautiful hills with green slopes and dense trees on either side of the water. It was cloudy, but not too dark. The sun was up, but its heat wasn't oppressive. Rather it was warm and comforting. It was a sensory overload for me.
I noticed that there were trees submerged in the water, not only near the banks, but even in the middle - with their leafy upper torsos jutting out over the water surface, but most of their bark submerged underneath. So I asked the guide whether the water level would recede by five to ten feet after the rainy season? His answer blew me away. He claimed that the water level would recede almost a hundred feet during summer!
After nearly 45 minutes of water travel, we finally reached our first point - the Datta Mandir. The guide expertly maneuvered the boat towards a set of stairs, and then with surprising agility and speed he climbed up the roof, then jumped down the other side, threw a rope with an anchor tied to it, pulled us in, and secured the boat. All of this in a single fast effortlessly fluid motion.
We climbed up the stairs and came up to find a shed selling food stuff. We ordered tea and kanda bhajiya. While the two ladies in the shop prepared this for us, we decide to explore and visit the temples here.
Here they have built a temple of lord Shiva under the ground. A tunnel leads to a chamber under the ground. This chamber contains a huge Shiv Ling. Another tunnel, opposite to the first one, leads you out. The tunnels and the chamber are well lighted. Its all man-made and pretty recent. They claim that there is a Shiv Ling submerged deep under the water at Triveni Sangam - an area where three water tributaries meet. In respect to that, this temple was built. There is also a temple of Lord Ganesh and one of Datta Guru.
After visiting all the temples, me, Sushant, Amol, and Jenil went behind the Shiva Temple where they have a huge statue of Nandi. Here we captured quite a few pics, especially standing near the railing, with the lake right behind us. What we didn't realise was that all the while we were snapping pics, we had company. Nearby, under the railing was a foot long lizard that looked like a miniature komodo dragon. We later came to know that it was what the locals call a Ghorpad.
We came back and had some tea and kanda bhajiya. The guide called us over and showed us a small python. It lay coiled on a rock jutting out of the water down below, near the wall under the railing. It must have eaten something, for its belly looked engorged.
Nearly an hour had elapsed when we finally headed for the boat. The guide, with his unusual agility, pushed off the boat and we were on our way back to Bamnoli. Right in the middle of the journey, the guide stopped the boat and said that this was the Triveni Sangam. Its a point where 3 tributaries meet, one of it being Koyna. Its nearly 500 feet deep in the middle here. There was nothing much spectacular about this point though. I felt it was just a rip off.
As we approached Bamnoli, the guide navigated the boat near the bank, passing it expertly right between the submerged trees. We reached the shore and the boat ride was finally over.
It was 11 o'clock. We decided to have an early lunch at Bamnoli itself. Who knows whether we would get good food on our way to the next destination? There are at least two hotels that boast food cooked on traditional earthen stove called a 'chool'. The first hotel was rejected by the hotel inspector Mr Jenil. We finally went and settled down in the other one.
Here we ordered zhunka bhakar, the traditional dish in Maharashtra. They prepared it fresh, so it took the some time to serve us. But the wait was worth it finally. The zhunka had the taste of home made food. The bhakris were served fresh and hot. It was a very satisfying meal. A meal on the trip, in some remote village always is...
We left around 12:30. It was a long ride back. But the scenery of the surrounding hills and the water bodies down below made it anything but monotonous. As we neared the Kaas Pathaar, we got caught up in traffic. It seems that the backside area of the Pathaar is used for parking. It was full of vehicles large and small, parked and crammed together. As we picked up our arduous way through all the traffic, we passed throngs of people who had left off their vehicles and were making their way towards the Pathaar. There was quite a crowd at the Pathaar itself. I felt sorry for all the flowers and little shoots that were bound to get trampled today.
We traveled down the hills the same way we had come, until we neared Satara city. Then, we took a detour towards Sajjangad. Our next stop was Thoseghar, where there is supposed to be a huge waterfall. Its nearly 13 kms away from the base of the road that climbs upwards towards Sajjangad. You continue up this road, only, don't take the right turn further on, that leads up to Sajjangad. Instead you keep going straight.
The road meandered through the hills until we came across the windmills. A few of them were quite nearby. There were many others on the adjoining hill-tops. I think there must have been more than 30-40 of them, some stationary, others rotating lazily in the wind. We stopped here to take some photographs. Most of us were now travel-weary. So when Sachin went and sat on the lush green grass and Ashish literally lay down, many of us followed suit.
Soft grass below, marching clouds in the sky above. Warmth of the cloud-hidden Sun, cool caress of the breeze. What more could one ask for? Some quantum of solace, a moment of peace... Isn't that what the soul craves most? But all good things come to an end. And so, with reluctant hearts, we got up and made our way back to the bus.
It was past 2:15. Which left us with very little time to explore Thoseghar. We kept going along the road, until we finally stumbled upon the place. Its on the road itself. A big board advertises it. There were quite a few cars parked on either side of the road. Which shows that its quite a famous place.
There's an entry fee of 10 bucks per head. An extra 20 for parking and another extra 10 per camera. There's a set of stairs that descend downwards. It splits up, the left one leads to the big waterfall and the right one leads to the small one. We took the left. The stairs end up on a huge square ledge with a balustrade, a kind of huge balcony so to speak. There was quite a crowd here.
While searching about this place on the net Sushant had shown us the pics of the massive waterfall. And yet nothing could prepare me for the real thing. The balcony affords a bird's eye view of a very narrow valley. The valley ends in a triangular cliff face to the right. And it continues like a deep cut in the earth, towards the left, until it turns rightward. The balcony is on one cliff face of this narrow valley. It affords a clear view of the opposite cliff face. It was nearing the end of rainy season. So both the cliff faces of the valley were covered with lush green vegetation.
Right opposite to the balcony, a little to the left, is one massive waterfall. The water, white and frothy, tumbles down the cliff face at break neck speed. It joins the rivulet that runs the entire length of the valley. This rivulet starts at the base of the valley's dead end located to the right. And this is where there are two more waterfalls. One is quite small, a thin white line that slashes like a scar across the cliff face. And the other one is massive, even bigger than the first one. Its huge column of white frothing water rushes down straight into a big plunge pool at its base, creating misty sprays that can be seen even from high above on the ledge. The water thus deposited by these three monster forces of nature rushes over the rocks at the base of the valley forming the above mentioned frothing, rushing rivulet.
The view was so breathtaking that the feet refused to leave. As it is, it was so crowded that it was difficult to find a position along the balustrade. When finally Sushant hailed us to leave, me, Sachin and Rizwan stopped by to take one final look at the waterfalls. As we looked on, suddenly, we saw dark clouds appear above the nearby horizon formed by the top of the dead end cliff. They were moving in fast upon us, like enemy soldiers marching purposefully to the battleground. As we started back, Sachin took a detour. He wanted to see the closeup view of the smaller waterfall too. I saw determination in his eyes, and enthusiasm too. So I followed suit, and so did Rizwan. As the three of us rushed towards the other unknown view, it suddenly started raining. And by God, how it rained! Within a minute, all our clothes were soaked.
It hadn't rained at all throughout the day, so all our rain gear was back in the bus. Thankfully, I had a polythene bag, into which we deposited all our wallets, mobile phones and money. I suggested we make our way back. But Sachin said he wanted to push on. We were soaked either ways, he argued. I saw the craziness in his eyes, craziness bred by excessive enthusiasm. Such craziness cannot be denied... So we pressed on.
The stairs led down, away from the ledge where we had initially been, first descending, and then rising towards the direction of the dead end cliff face that was located to the right of the ledge. We passed over a little metal bridge. Below the bridge was a nearly dry rock bed which would itself become a waterfall during heavy rains. Past the bridge is a very small local ledge. And beyond this ledge is something we never expected to see.
It was the starting point of the massive waterfall. Water flowed with force from the right hand side of the ledge, and the disappeared down the cliff face on the left. It was a sight so unexpected that Sachin went nuts. He became totally hyper, shouting over the loud roar of the rushing water. Gibbering excitedly above all the commotion. If enthusiasm is contagious, then so is the madness bred by an overdose of it. I found myself guffawing like a fool. So excited were we.
We spotted a group of guys who had somehow found a way to reach the actual flowing water itself. It must be so exciting being out there, I thought, until I remembered the unfortunate incident that took place to this entire family at Patalpani. Fortunately this group was level headed enough to keep away from the rushing water.
Finally we retraced our steps back towards the entrance. As we reached the road, the bus was already out on the road, ready to leave. Apparently we were not the only ones who had had an adventure. The rest of the group had had their share of adventure as well.
The bus had been parked in a muddy patch. When the rain came, it got stuck in the mud. Jenil, the driver, and his aide had to push it out. The red wet mud was all over the floor of the bus, looking like an aftermath of some bloody carnage from a psycho-thriller movie. Sushant had his own adventure as he made his way to the bus protecting all the costly camera gear he carried. Apparently, an old lady had imposed herself upon him under the single umbrella he had carried. Everyone was soaked. Ashish, who had been suffering from cold looked ill. We all badly needed a change of clothes. But there was no place to park. So we left and started back.
A little distance down the road, we stopped besides a little hotel. We ordered tea. And meanwhile, we changed into dry clothes in the bus itself. Then the driver and his aide cleaned up the floor of the bus.
The greatest tragedy was that of Sachin, who had been wearing both his T-shirts together, to counter the cold. Now both of them were soaked. So he was left with no choice but to wear just the spare vest he had, since no one had any spare shirts. With just a vest and a towel covering his upper torso, he looked like a helper or a servant and everyone pulled his legs by calling him 'chottu'.
Satish had an urgent emergency. So he landed up donating some personal manure to the jungle nearby.
We had some nice tea, and then started off on our way back home. As evening broke out, the clouds had receded. By 5 o'clock, we had moved out of Satara. The green fields on either side of the road were sprinkled with bright little droplets of golden light of the setting Sun.
The trip hack home wasn't without incident. For example, Sachin, the 'chottu' had kept one shirt to dry on the window near his seat. Satish was feeling queasy. So he swapped his seat with Sachin. While seated at Sachin's seat, the wet T-shirt kept flapping into Satish 's face. It irritated him so much, that he voluntarily offered Sachin his spare shirt. And that was how Sachin got to finally wear a shirt.
The driver's mobile phone had discharged. So there was no more music to be played in the bus. Finally I offered to play some from my mobile. After a song or two, the janta got bored. So DJ Jenil stepped forward and replaced me. He started playing all remix songs, much to the consternation of Sachin, who started commenting on Jenil's poor choice. Then Ashish stepped forward to play some nice punjabi songs. After a few songs, everyone grew tired of these too. Finally we stopped the music player and ended up not listening to any songs at all. When the driver was playing his songs, we were all content with it. For we had no choice. But as soon as we got to play the songs of our own choice, everyone wanted to listen to their own favourites. Such is the nature of us Humans...
We stopped outside Pune and had some vadapav at Rohit Vadewale. Then sped down the expressway towards Mumbai.
We finally reached Mumbai after 10 in the night, and most of us were back home by midnight.
Though, it did start with the flowers...
We had been talking about a picnic for a long time now. We even planned one. Almost... Then it got cancelled due to the ongoing Ganapati festival. And then it happened real suddenly.
It was a Tuesday. 17th Sept. Evening, past 6:30 pm. Suddenly the idea popped up into Sushant's mind. Lets go to Kaas Pathaar. When? How about this weekend itself? And that's how fast it was decided.
The planning phase had its fair share of glitches... It was short notice for most people, so half the people from our list were "tentative" till the very last minute. Our regular travels guy Ramakant said his usual 11 and 14 seater vehicles were already booked. So we booked the only option we were afforded - a 17 seater bus. Till the very end, we did not know how many, out of the 15 odd people, who had shown interest in the trip, would make it... Finally, 9 guys were in. I don't know how it happened, but I landed up being the reluctant organizer of the trip. It had been an unusually busy week and I could hardly find time to plan, coordinate and make things happen. There was no specific plan, right till the last day. Sushant researched and came up with various places we could visit. Finally a rough plan was in place... Even the schedule had to undergo changes. We had originally planned to leave at 9:00 pm. We has to shift it to 10:30 pm in order to accommodate Ashish, who had UK timings in the new company and could not leave before 11, and Amol, who had an important late call to attend.
19 Sept. TGIF... We left from our office at J B Nagar by 10:00. The bus was late. There were 7 of us - Sushant, Rizwan, Sachin, Satish, Prashant (Satish's friend), Jenil and yours truly. We would be picking up two others on the way. The bus arrived and we finally said "Raam raam" to the office and the week past, at 10:45 pm.
We picked up a formally dressed Ashish just past the Gandhinagar intersection. We had to pick up Amol (Sushant's friend) at Airoli. But thanks to my utter lack of knowledge of the roadways past Mumbai proper, we took a wrong turn towards Chembur. We had to retrace our tracks, to much leg-pulling from everyone and to much consternation of myself...
We turned right from the Eastern express highway towards Airoli and picked up Amol there. Now all were on board. The bus picked up its arduous way through the Friday night traffic of the city towards the Mumbai-Pune expressway. The driver was playing some pretty cool songs. There was excitement in the air. People were chatting, cracking jokes, catching up with old friends. Some were dozing off, some were already fast asleep. Ashish, who had recently moved to another firm, was trying to get me to talk. But I was too busy trying to stay awake and alert. Last time, I had dozed off besides the driver. This time, I was determined to avoid that.
We stopped at a food plaza just before the Mumbai Pune expressway. It was late. Past one o'clock. The group was already experiencing a mild case of travel-fatigue. Some were sleeping. Some had bladder emergencies to attend to. And some were famished. We had some food. I had some cold coffee. Then we started off again, tearing through the dark fabric of the night.
The dark world inside the bus was soon plunged into silence. Heads started nodding off and lolling to the sway of the bus. As the witching hour approached, Sushant pointed something out to me. Satish, who had been snoozing soundly even when we had taken a food break, was now sleeping contentedly, lying down on the aisle between the seats. Yes, night had finally descended on us all. The coffee helped me stay awake.
Sometime past the witching hour, we were passing through the outskirts of Pune. The buildings there look nice and well-planned. Sachin, who had been awake all the time, pointed out a township to our left. It was built around a small water body; natural or man-made, I couldn't make out in the dark. But it looked beautiful, as it reflected the pinpoints of lights from the buildings surrounding it.
Thankfully, Sushant relieved me by 4. I went back and had a blessed wink. When I got up, we were nearing Satara. It was cold outside. Almost all the windows were shut.
We entered Satara after 5 in the morning. Sushant was guiding the driver using the map he had saved on his phone. I dozed off again, and the next time I opened my eyes, everyone was awake. It was cool outside. One could feel the freshness of the air that was seeping in. There was a subdued sense of excitement in the air. We were meandering along the slope of a hill, over a narrow curving road which was quite well-maintained and pot-holes-free. We passed some houses and hotels that were built almost touching the cliff face; so that one would have an unhindered view of the green slope of the surrounding hills and the city far below. Everywhere it was green. The slopes were covered with beautiful green grass. There were trees along the road. It was like entering a hill station.
We stopped at a spot on the way. There was a small temple at the side of the road. Behind the temple was a small clearing that afforded a spectacular view of the surrounding landscape. As we stepped out of the bus, the cold hit us. It was shocking to suddenly feel the sharp cold after the comfortable warmth of the cocooned inside of the bus. My hands were shaking. My teeth were chattering. The wind blew hard and that's what made the cold so intense - the wind-chill factor. But the air was fresh - almost like an elixir to a city-dweller like me who is used to breathing in the foul polluted air. It was so invigorating that any sign of sleepiness simply vanished.
The view was beautiful. The hills and the entire landscape were covered with post-monsoon greenery. There was a lake below, with green hills nearby. The sky was cloudy and grey. We captured quite a few pics here, and then moved on.
Not farther down the road, we stopped again. This time near a long clearing covered with lush green grass. There were trees on one side, all growing besides each other, like a platoon standing in formation. The clearing fell off to a spectacular view of the lake below. The hills opposite to this one had their heads thrust into the misty grey clouds. The constantly moving cottony tendrils seems mystical from so nearby.
As we moved on further, the air no longer remained crystal clear. Soon there was a mist around us. Visibility went down. The road was flanked with trees that merged into the grey mist. The black strip of the road itself seemed to disappear into the mist ahead.
After a while, the trees flanking the road became sparse, giving way to flat land covered with short velvety grass. Suddenly, there were wire mesh fences on either side of the road.
We had reached the famous Kaas Pathaar.
Kaas Pathaar is the famous plateau of flowers near Satara. A world heritage site that's frequented by tourists from far and wide, due to the colourful flowers that grow here. Its a plateau at high altitude. So when we reached there, early in the morning at 7 o'clock, it felt like we had literally entered the clouds. Visibility was low, as the road and the fence seemed to dissolve into the grey mist. Behind the fence, on either side of the road, were green plains that seemed to merge effortlessly into the grey mist a few meters behind the fence.
As we descended down the bus, I spied a feebly lit globe of light hanging low in the sky behind us. Someone pointed at it and said, hey look at the moon. But when the constantly shifting tendrils of grey clouds, parted a bit, the globe grew brighter and intense. It was the Sun, not the Moon.
There was a little shed besides the road. A board nearby gave an introduction to Kaas Pathaar and explained the parking fare. There was no one in the shed, this early in the morning.
We moved off to the left where there was a fenced pathway that led straight into the grass covered green plains. After taking a few steps, we spied the flowers... Little spots of white, red, blue and violet sprinkled on the uniform green for as far as the eyes could see.
The colour-sprinkled green plains faded and disappeared into the mist a few meters away. The mist was ever changing. It just couldn't make up its mind how thin or thick, it wanted to be. One moment, it would grow so thick, that everything beyond a few feet just blurred out and disappeared into its uniform greyness. The next moment, it would thin out to reveal the trees and the hazy contours of the land meters away. The clouds were so low in the sky, it was like the world had suddenly shrunken. The light intensity kept changing every few seconds, intermittently giving a sneak peek of the sun, and then hiding it altogether. At one moment, it felt like dawn, the next, it felt like dusk. It was so unreal, it felt like we had crossed some magical portal and entered a fantasy land in another dimension.
The ever present wind made it very chilly. But by now, the body had gotten used to the chill and it felt nice and fresh, instead of unwelcoming and sharply cold. There was a hell of a lot of humidity in the air. My hair were matted with wetness. The nostrils felt wet and slimy. But instead of being oppressive, the way Mumbai's humidity is, it felt good, invigorating.
After a while, there was no more wire mesh on the fence, just equidistant columns stretching on both sides of the path like mute sentries guarding the sanctity of this nature's bounty. We were free to roam on the plains.
We went in, first carelessly and then gingerly stepping over little young shoots and blossoms. Kaas Pathaar offers a brilliant opportunity for photographing colourful pretty flowers that are rare to come by. But two things are very important - good enough light, and as little wind as possible. But we were not afforded either of these two luxuries. The wind and the clouds were conspiring against us. Hardly was there a moment when the flowers stood still. And the light wasn't bright enough to capture the bright hues of the colourful miracles of nature. We had reached too early. It was frustrating. Finally we had to resort to holding the flowers with our hands in order keep them steady, while the cameras did their work.
As we explored further, we came across a little pond. Right there in the middle of the plains. It must have formed by the collected rain water. It was a nice spot where we took quite a few pics. With people standing on stones jutting out from the middle of the pond. Or sitting down in lotus position at the edge of the pond, like an ancient yogi... It was fun... Cold weather leads to bladder pressure. And so a few of is donated natural minerals to the plants of the famous Kaas Pathaar.
Then we decided to head back. Assuming that the rest of the plateau must be pretty much the same. It was 8 in the morning, and as we retraced our steps, we noticed a lot of people coming in. Suddenly the plains seemed too crowded. We had come in early and lost an opportunity at good photography. But what we had gained was solitude to explore the natural beauty without stumbling upon the crowds of humans that just didn't belong here. It was very sad to note how people unthinkingly, almost ruthlessly, trampled over the beautiful plants and flowers, simply to get themselves photographed. Isn't it sad, that us humans are such an utterly ungrateful and careless race...
We got into the bus and moved on. Instead of retracing our steps, we continued on the Kaas road westwards. Our next stop was Bamnoli, a little village along the banks of the massive water body called the Shivajisagar Lake. While searching for good spots to visit near the Kaas area, he stumbled upon the fact that there were boat rides available here. When we reached there an hour or so later, the booth for boat rides had just opened.
Usually they offer rides to quite a few different points. But during the current season, only 3 options were available. Two points (Triveni Sangam and Datta Mandir) were to the south of Bamnoli. And one point - Tapola, was to the north. We were offered a discount for the package with all 3 options. But time was a constraint. We had to reach Mumbai before midnight (to avoid being charged for the next day as well). Due to which we would have to leave for the way back home by 3 in the afternoon. So we opted for the two points southwards.
They charged us 135 per head. While booking they asked for an ID card of any one person doing the booking. I showed them my PAN card. They duly noted down my PAN number. They also noted down where I had come from and a relative's contact number. When asked, why so much information was required, they claimed it was for both security as well as statistics purpose. All this information went to some local government official.
Each boat can carry up to 12 persons. We were all assigned a single boat. It was a wooden medium sized boat, nearly six feet wide at the center and about twelve feet long. Fore sides, they had rigged it with a little metal ladder, using which we climbed onto it. Aft sides, it sported a rigged engine that looked like it had seen better days. They had put a roof over the boat, supported by metal columns on either side, and a metal framework at the top. The metal framework was covers using a hand- knit mat made up of some tree bark. Over this mat, they had spread tarpaulin sheet. Both at the port and the starboard side, between the columns, they had hung one round life buoy - less as a protection and more as a decoration... There were wooden boards on either side of the boat, and three wooden planks in the middle to seat passengers.
When we all settled down, the guide spun a lever on the engine vigorously. After a few spins, the engine roared to life. For all its ramshackle looks, the engine certainly was well maintained. Then the fellow pulled a gear to set the engine on reverse, went fore, and pushed the boat outward. As the boat picked up momentum, he effortlessly jumped in. He skillfully navigated us away from the bank and into the deep.
The water was pretty clear. The winds made waves on its surface. The opposite bank wasn't very far. It was a gentle slope covered with a carpet of bright green grass. It looked exactly like lawn tennis court or a golf course, except a little tilted, as it rose to form a chain of tree covered hills.
If the rocking bus is a strong sedative, then the swaying boat is a knockout punch. The travel and sleepless night was taking its toll on all of us, making us drowsy. So much so that Sachin almost lay down on the wooden board.
I like boat rides and I was too excited to feel drowsy. I was enjoying the moist breeze caress my face. The gentle swaying of the boat. The rhythmic sloshing sound of the water. The beautiful hills with green slopes and dense trees on either side of the water. It was cloudy, but not too dark. The sun was up, but its heat wasn't oppressive. Rather it was warm and comforting. It was a sensory overload for me.
I noticed that there were trees submerged in the water, not only near the banks, but even in the middle - with their leafy upper torsos jutting out over the water surface, but most of their bark submerged underneath. So I asked the guide whether the water level would recede by five to ten feet after the rainy season? His answer blew me away. He claimed that the water level would recede almost a hundred feet during summer!
After nearly 45 minutes of water travel, we finally reached our first point - the Datta Mandir. The guide expertly maneuvered the boat towards a set of stairs, and then with surprising agility and speed he climbed up the roof, then jumped down the other side, threw a rope with an anchor tied to it, pulled us in, and secured the boat. All of this in a single fast effortlessly fluid motion.
We climbed up the stairs and came up to find a shed selling food stuff. We ordered tea and kanda bhajiya. While the two ladies in the shop prepared this for us, we decide to explore and visit the temples here.
Here they have built a temple of lord Shiva under the ground. A tunnel leads to a chamber under the ground. This chamber contains a huge Shiv Ling. Another tunnel, opposite to the first one, leads you out. The tunnels and the chamber are well lighted. Its all man-made and pretty recent. They claim that there is a Shiv Ling submerged deep under the water at Triveni Sangam - an area where three water tributaries meet. In respect to that, this temple was built. There is also a temple of Lord Ganesh and one of Datta Guru.
After visiting all the temples, me, Sushant, Amol, and Jenil went behind the Shiva Temple where they have a huge statue of Nandi. Here we captured quite a few pics, especially standing near the railing, with the lake right behind us. What we didn't realise was that all the while we were snapping pics, we had company. Nearby, under the railing was a foot long lizard that looked like a miniature komodo dragon. We later came to know that it was what the locals call a Ghorpad.
We came back and had some tea and kanda bhajiya. The guide called us over and showed us a small python. It lay coiled on a rock jutting out of the water down below, near the wall under the railing. It must have eaten something, for its belly looked engorged.
Nearly an hour had elapsed when we finally headed for the boat. The guide, with his unusual agility, pushed off the boat and we were on our way back to Bamnoli. Right in the middle of the journey, the guide stopped the boat and said that this was the Triveni Sangam. Its a point where 3 tributaries meet, one of it being Koyna. Its nearly 500 feet deep in the middle here. There was nothing much spectacular about this point though. I felt it was just a rip off.
As we approached Bamnoli, the guide navigated the boat near the bank, passing it expertly right between the submerged trees. We reached the shore and the boat ride was finally over.
It was 11 o'clock. We decided to have an early lunch at Bamnoli itself. Who knows whether we would get good food on our way to the next destination? There are at least two hotels that boast food cooked on traditional earthen stove called a 'chool'. The first hotel was rejected by the hotel inspector Mr Jenil. We finally went and settled down in the other one.
Here we ordered zhunka bhakar, the traditional dish in Maharashtra. They prepared it fresh, so it took the some time to serve us. But the wait was worth it finally. The zhunka had the taste of home made food. The bhakris were served fresh and hot. It was a very satisfying meal. A meal on the trip, in some remote village always is...
We left around 12:30. It was a long ride back. But the scenery of the surrounding hills and the water bodies down below made it anything but monotonous. As we neared the Kaas Pathaar, we got caught up in traffic. It seems that the backside area of the Pathaar is used for parking. It was full of vehicles large and small, parked and crammed together. As we picked up our arduous way through all the traffic, we passed throngs of people who had left off their vehicles and were making their way towards the Pathaar. There was quite a crowd at the Pathaar itself. I felt sorry for all the flowers and little shoots that were bound to get trampled today.
We traveled down the hills the same way we had come, until we neared Satara city. Then, we took a detour towards Sajjangad. Our next stop was Thoseghar, where there is supposed to be a huge waterfall. Its nearly 13 kms away from the base of the road that climbs upwards towards Sajjangad. You continue up this road, only, don't take the right turn further on, that leads up to Sajjangad. Instead you keep going straight.
The road meandered through the hills until we came across the windmills. A few of them were quite nearby. There were many others on the adjoining hill-tops. I think there must have been more than 30-40 of them, some stationary, others rotating lazily in the wind. We stopped here to take some photographs. Most of us were now travel-weary. So when Sachin went and sat on the lush green grass and Ashish literally lay down, many of us followed suit.
Soft grass below, marching clouds in the sky above. Warmth of the cloud-hidden Sun, cool caress of the breeze. What more could one ask for? Some quantum of solace, a moment of peace... Isn't that what the soul craves most? But all good things come to an end. And so, with reluctant hearts, we got up and made our way back to the bus.
It was past 2:15. Which left us with very little time to explore Thoseghar. We kept going along the road, until we finally stumbled upon the place. Its on the road itself. A big board advertises it. There were quite a few cars parked on either side of the road. Which shows that its quite a famous place.
There's an entry fee of 10 bucks per head. An extra 20 for parking and another extra 10 per camera. There's a set of stairs that descend downwards. It splits up, the left one leads to the big waterfall and the right one leads to the small one. We took the left. The stairs end up on a huge square ledge with a balustrade, a kind of huge balcony so to speak. There was quite a crowd here.
While searching about this place on the net Sushant had shown us the pics of the massive waterfall. And yet nothing could prepare me for the real thing. The balcony affords a bird's eye view of a very narrow valley. The valley ends in a triangular cliff face to the right. And it continues like a deep cut in the earth, towards the left, until it turns rightward. The balcony is on one cliff face of this narrow valley. It affords a clear view of the opposite cliff face. It was nearing the end of rainy season. So both the cliff faces of the valley were covered with lush green vegetation.
Right opposite to the balcony, a little to the left, is one massive waterfall. The water, white and frothy, tumbles down the cliff face at break neck speed. It joins the rivulet that runs the entire length of the valley. This rivulet starts at the base of the valley's dead end located to the right. And this is where there are two more waterfalls. One is quite small, a thin white line that slashes like a scar across the cliff face. And the other one is massive, even bigger than the first one. Its huge column of white frothing water rushes down straight into a big plunge pool at its base, creating misty sprays that can be seen even from high above on the ledge. The water thus deposited by these three monster forces of nature rushes over the rocks at the base of the valley forming the above mentioned frothing, rushing rivulet.
The view was so breathtaking that the feet refused to leave. As it is, it was so crowded that it was difficult to find a position along the balustrade. When finally Sushant hailed us to leave, me, Sachin and Rizwan stopped by to take one final look at the waterfalls. As we looked on, suddenly, we saw dark clouds appear above the nearby horizon formed by the top of the dead end cliff. They were moving in fast upon us, like enemy soldiers marching purposefully to the battleground. As we started back, Sachin took a detour. He wanted to see the closeup view of the smaller waterfall too. I saw determination in his eyes, and enthusiasm too. So I followed suit, and so did Rizwan. As the three of us rushed towards the other unknown view, it suddenly started raining. And by God, how it rained! Within a minute, all our clothes were soaked.
It hadn't rained at all throughout the day, so all our rain gear was back in the bus. Thankfully, I had a polythene bag, into which we deposited all our wallets, mobile phones and money. I suggested we make our way back. But Sachin said he wanted to push on. We were soaked either ways, he argued. I saw the craziness in his eyes, craziness bred by excessive enthusiasm. Such craziness cannot be denied... So we pressed on.
The stairs led down, away from the ledge where we had initially been, first descending, and then rising towards the direction of the dead end cliff face that was located to the right of the ledge. We passed over a little metal bridge. Below the bridge was a nearly dry rock bed which would itself become a waterfall during heavy rains. Past the bridge is a very small local ledge. And beyond this ledge is something we never expected to see.
It was the starting point of the massive waterfall. Water flowed with force from the right hand side of the ledge, and the disappeared down the cliff face on the left. It was a sight so unexpected that Sachin went nuts. He became totally hyper, shouting over the loud roar of the rushing water. Gibbering excitedly above all the commotion. If enthusiasm is contagious, then so is the madness bred by an overdose of it. I found myself guffawing like a fool. So excited were we.
We spotted a group of guys who had somehow found a way to reach the actual flowing water itself. It must be so exciting being out there, I thought, until I remembered the unfortunate incident that took place to this entire family at Patalpani. Fortunately this group was level headed enough to keep away from the rushing water.
Finally we retraced our steps back towards the entrance. As we reached the road, the bus was already out on the road, ready to leave. Apparently we were not the only ones who had had an adventure. The rest of the group had had their share of adventure as well.
The bus had been parked in a muddy patch. When the rain came, it got stuck in the mud. Jenil, the driver, and his aide had to push it out. The red wet mud was all over the floor of the bus, looking like an aftermath of some bloody carnage from a psycho-thriller movie. Sushant had his own adventure as he made his way to the bus protecting all the costly camera gear he carried. Apparently, an old lady had imposed herself upon him under the single umbrella he had carried. Everyone was soaked. Ashish, who had been suffering from cold looked ill. We all badly needed a change of clothes. But there was no place to park. So we left and started back.
A little distance down the road, we stopped besides a little hotel. We ordered tea. And meanwhile, we changed into dry clothes in the bus itself. Then the driver and his aide cleaned up the floor of the bus.
The greatest tragedy was that of Sachin, who had been wearing both his T-shirts together, to counter the cold. Now both of them were soaked. So he was left with no choice but to wear just the spare vest he had, since no one had any spare shirts. With just a vest and a towel covering his upper torso, he looked like a helper or a servant and everyone pulled his legs by calling him 'chottu'.
Satish had an urgent emergency. So he landed up donating some personal manure to the jungle nearby.
We had some nice tea, and then started off on our way back home. As evening broke out, the clouds had receded. By 5 o'clock, we had moved out of Satara. The green fields on either side of the road were sprinkled with bright little droplets of golden light of the setting Sun.
The trip hack home wasn't without incident. For example, Sachin, the 'chottu' had kept one shirt to dry on the window near his seat. Satish was feeling queasy. So he swapped his seat with Sachin. While seated at Sachin's seat, the wet T-shirt kept flapping into Satish 's face. It irritated him so much, that he voluntarily offered Sachin his spare shirt. And that was how Sachin got to finally wear a shirt.
The driver's mobile phone had discharged. So there was no more music to be played in the bus. Finally I offered to play some from my mobile. After a song or two, the janta got bored. So DJ Jenil stepped forward and replaced me. He started playing all remix songs, much to the consternation of Sachin, who started commenting on Jenil's poor choice. Then Ashish stepped forward to play some nice punjabi songs. After a few songs, everyone grew tired of these too. Finally we stopped the music player and ended up not listening to any songs at all. When the driver was playing his songs, we were all content with it. For we had no choice. But as soon as we got to play the songs of our own choice, everyone wanted to listen to their own favourites. Such is the nature of us Humans...
We stopped outside Pune and had some vadapav at Rohit Vadewale. Then sped down the expressway towards Mumbai.
We finally reached Mumbai after 10 in the night, and most of us were back home by midnight.
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