Wandering the Wilds of Parshuram Bhoomi

It is known that all living creatures, including man, are made up of the five divine natural elements of earth, fire, water, air and space, called the Panchmahabhootas in the Vedic culture. No matter how much “progressive”, “modernized” or “prosperous” we become, no wonder we feel time and again the strong urge to go back to nature and re-establish that lost touch with divinity. And for a nature lover like me, such sojourns into the lap of Mother Earth are extremely cherished moments.

Towards the end of December 2007, the green man inside me desperately needed a gentle caress once again from the leaves, creepers and flowers that inhabit the rolling hills and the enchanting countryside, after having spent several months at a stretch in the concrete madness called Mumbai!

Thus, the night of 21st December saw me and my lawyer friend – Prasad Rane – sitting in a state transport (ST) bus at 8.30pm destined for Chiplun, a little town snugly nestled between two offshoots of Sahyadri Mountains, 300 km to the south of Mumbai in Kokan - the coastal region of Maharashtra. This region is a part of India’s beautiful and verdant west coast called Parshuram Bhoomi or the land of Lord Parshuram – the 7th incarnation of Lord Vishnu. We would get down at the mountain village of Parshuram, 9 km before Chiplun, which is adorned with an ancient temple of the Lord.

As the bus sped past Panvel on the Goa highway, the pollution-free air of Karnala Bird Sanctuary, through which it passes, greeted our weary city lungs so used to inhale the cement dust and petrol fumes of Mumbai. Beyond Karnala, the semi-urban towns of Pen, Vadkhal, Nagothane, Roha and Mangaon passed in quick succession as the bus glided along the flat plains of Raigad district, which are known for the extensive rice fields and more recently for the many industrial units. The latter reminded me of the increasingly urban India, which I was trying to avoid, at least for the 6 days of my vacation. Sprawling right in the middle of these plains, are the forest-clad mountains near Roha, which are an extension of the Phansad Wildlife Sanctuary nearby. The sweet smell of dried wild grasses and

jungle flowers, carried to me by the soothing night breeze told me that the natural wealth of Kokan still survives, despite the relentless advance of “civilization”.

The bus pulled into Mahad depot at about 3am. The historic capital of Shivaji Maharaj on fort Raigad was tucked away in the fastness of Sahyadri Mountains close by, even as we passed Poladpur and approached the Kashedi Ghat that heralds the region of laterite rocks and red soil of Ratnagiri and south Kokan. The long winding ghat is delightfully beautiful under moonlight, as one peeps out of the window braving the chilled breezes, to drink in the lunar nectar that soaks the undulating hills and dales and the jungles that clothe them. Most of the other passengers are fast asleep by now and I wonder whether the bus driver was fully awake at least, given the way he was driving. But state transport drivers in Maharashtra have quite a good record of driving without accidents, despite the “breath-taking” twists and turns that they take on their steering wheels.
The rolling countryside of south Kokan never leaves you beyond Kashedi ghat and no sooner had this ghat ended, than the “Welcome to Bhoste Ghat” signboard greeted us after the sleepy town of Khed. The jungle breezes of Bhoste ghat do not last long, as chemical smells from factories in Lote industrial estate force the passengers to abandon their sweet dreams for some time. But thankfully the industrial zone passes by quickly as we enter the Parshuram Ghat and after a few more curves of National Highway 17, the conductor rings the bell, which signals us to get down at the wayside bus stop of Parshuram in inky darkness at 5.30am. As we step down, the bus rolls away descending the ghat towards Chiplun and we are greeted by the pre-dawn pin-drop silence and the tall trees all around that screen the moonlight on this mini hill station. A brief walk up the village road and we reach the cozy little resort of my other friend – Prasad Thatte. So I have two Prasads here, perhaps as a “prasad” from the Lord! We throw down our bags and enter the state of dream and subsequently deep-sleep, while the tranquil surroundings and the close proximity of Lord Parshuram assure us that 4th state or “Turiya avastha” would also be possible to the sincere seeker in this unspoilt paradise!

We wake up the next day to the twittering of myriad birds in the mango trees outside. Interestingly the resort is called Amraban, which means mango orchard. Even in that half sleep, I could identify the calls of my avian friends like drongo, tailor bird and magpie robin. After a delicious breakfast of kande-pohe liberally sprinkled with fresh coconut and coriander, we set off for the Parshuram temple. The idol of Lord Parshuram, flanked by the idols of Kaal and Kaam in the cool inner sanctum of the temple invoke a sense of peace and contentment as we sit cross-legged and eyes closed. It is inspiring to note that since the Lord had conquered time and desires (Kaal and Kaam), these two idols adorn his sides. Regular devotion in such serene surroundings may perhaps enable us to embark on the journey to achieve what the Lord has exemplified for us.

Parshuram village also has other places of interest like the stone pathway called Pakhadi snaking its way downhill as a short cut towards Chiplun, magnificent views of Vasishthi River through the dense foliage, the ancient Dhavji’s well, the quiet Dutt temple built over a natural water tank, the small caves on the hill side whose cool interiors are a perfect place to meditate and the remotely located Parvateshwar shrine right in the middle of the forest further up the mountain. The sweet smell of Bakul flowers and cashew blossoms constantly wafts over the hills in this season in particular and the pleasant calls of the rare Malabar whistling thrush, right outside the verandah of the resort complete the inherent tranquility of the place.

The second day found us in the ST bus to the small village of Hedvi via Chiplun, also nestled amidst forest-clad hills in the nearby Guhagar taluka. Hedvi is adorned by a small but beautiful Ganpati temple. This and countless other locations across the region constantly remind us of the divinity that exists in the midst of Mother Nature’s offspring. If one has a two-wheeler, it becomes all the more convenient, as one does not have to adhere to the ST timings and can unwind better in this undulating abode of Gods.

Day three took us 350 years back in history as we visited the small but interesting Shivsrushti museum at Derwan, which can be reached in less than a hour from Chiplun. This museum, which depicts the entire lifespan and the work of Shivaji Maharaj by way of life-size plaster statues of the people and events of his time, along with the background commentary, is inspiring to any lay person. With these visions of history in our minds, we trekked to a small dam nearby at Rajewadi. It is surrounded by good forests on three sides. We saw lapwings along its shore. Many people must have some time or the other seen and heard these birds that often reside near water bodies or river beds. Its loud “tititwi – titituwi – titituwi…” was resonating against the nearby hills.

A wonderful cruise down the Vasishthi River in a small fisherman’s boat was the grand finale for the day. Beyond Chiplun, the river winds itself through open cultivated land and forested hills right up to its confluence with the sea near Dabhol. While, initially we were busy spotting water birds like egret, cormorant, pond heron and the huge grey heron, along its reed covered marshy edges, a moment later we were on alert when the fisherman asked us to spot the crocodiles that were lazing out on the river banks. At first we could not spot the 10 feet long animals due to their camouflage, but soon we spotted one, then another and then still another, till we counted a total of over 15 estuarine crocodiles during our brief one hour cruise. The sea water comes inland several miles during high tides and that explained the presence of these salt water crocodiles. If Vasishthi River, which is polluted to some extent by the chemical factories of Lote and the power plant of Enron at Dabhol, has so much wildlife, we can just imagine the richness of fauna that exists in our other small and neglected coastal rivers.

The rendezvous with the wilderness was to continue the next day too, when I boarded the bus from Chiplun to Satara, which would drop me just after ascending the Kumbharli Ghat. The awesome and vast expanse of the Sahyadri ranges is visible in its full glory from this ghat, with the green mountain tops and the green valleys and the layered lava formations resulting in the steep rocks faces hundreds of feet tall. They surely invoke the feelings of oneness with the soul of the world (as expressed in Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist) or the Parmeshwar. It surely would move even the most materialistic and unspiritual souls with its tranquil magnificence.

A quick piping hot tea and kanda bhaji (onion pakoda) at the little stall near the highway and I had expressed my wish to see bison and other wildlife in the surrounding forests. The stall owner and his helpers responded by saying that these plateau forests lying between the Koyna Sanctuary and the Chandoli Sanctuary are indeed home to a diverse wildlife, but sightings cannot be assured. I persisted and finally a twenty something Bajrang Lambor – a shepherd by occupation – agreed to come with me. I quickly reciprocated that I have complete faith in his knowledge of the forest and that animal sightings or otherwise, I would pay him at the end of the day, for treating me with a day’s trek in these enchanting forests.

By 12 noon, we were snaking along the narrow trails into the interior of the forest and soon passed near his village – Kemse. He sounded like a knowledge bank of the flora of the region and within a span of one hour, several Marathi names of trees and shrubs were added to my botanical knowledge. We saw trees like narkya (which according to Bajrang is being studied by foreigners for use in Aids cure drugs), hirda (used in dental care in Ayurvedic medicine), ramkya, arjun and shikakai (well known for its use in hair care), apart from the more frequent trees like mango, jamun and others. This forest was almost littered with kadhi patta trees, an essential ingredient of our Indian curry, which the foreigners relish so much. Kadhi patta is also considered to be an important anti-oxidant. I was witnessing the herbal heritage of India first hand, with my heart full of pride for being a part of this country. For a while, my quest for wild animals was almost forgotten.

Birds like drongo, kite, kavda (a kind of dove) and grey wild hen were giving darshan time and again. And suddenly my guide drew my attention to the large pug marks on the soft earth at one spot. I stared carefully. They were the pug marks of a big cat. They were surely bigger than those of the panther and I realized that I was looking at the pug marks of a tiger – the King of the Indian jungle – which had passed that way the previous night. For a brief moment I was thrilled to the point of getting scared. The King of the Indian jungle commands so much respect due to his prowess that merely looking at his pug marks in his own domain, with the thought that he could be watching us at that very moment from the dense foliage, is enough to make one nervously glance over one’s shoulder in all directions with the expectation of seeing that stripped form!

Nevertheless, it was heartening to know that the vehicle of Goddess Durga has managed to re-enter these forests of western Maharashtra, after having almost disappeared from the region for several decades. Recent newspaper reports had quoted the wildlife experts saying that tigers have reappeared in the mountain forests of Satara, Sangli, Kolhapur and possibly Pune district, having perhaps migrated from larger forests of Belgaon and Uttar Kannada districts further south.

We hastened our steps from this place that continuously reminded us of the presence of tigers and soon reached a natural water hole. On its muddy banks we saw the pug marks of sambar deer and bison. Bajrang told me that this was a regular drinking spot for the deer and bison and urged me to follow him quietly further into the forest to find a group of bison that would most probably be resting in the shade at this hot hour. Indian bison are called gaur and rather than being a true bison, scientists say that they are more closely related to cows. I was now eager to see gaur, which are about 51/2 to 6 feet tall at the shoulder (depending upon whether it is a male or a female) and dark brown to black in colour with stocking-like white legs up to knees and massive horns on their heads.

We were traversing a laterite rock plateau with stunted trees and some open spaces when suddenly we heard the loud pounding of hooves on the hard rock surface. Some heavy animals had abruptly started to run away from behind a patch of dense bushes and trees, about 50 feet to our right. I realized that these have to be a group of gaur, that had been disturbed from their siesta and being very shy in nature were now trying to get away. The next instant a small calf – grayish brown in colour – came out of the cover some distance ahead of us. It was confused and had run in the opposite direction than the rest of the herd. Within half a minute, three full grown gaur ran up close to the calf in order to guide him in the right direction and the next minute those huge majestic beasts were gone. We heard sounds in the bushes and trees farther away as the herd made to a safer place in a denser tall jungle patch nearby. All this happened in a couple of minutes, but it made my day. My wish had been fulfilled.

After this we halted for a while at another shady water hole for our lunch-cum-snack, followed by the crystal clear and cool water from the natural unpolluted source. Then we proceeded to another section of the forest for possible sightings of any other denizens of the wild. We came across the droppings of wild dogs or dhol, which are as ferocious a hunter as the tiger or the panther. Further ahead, as we neared the edge of the plateau, Bajrang showed me the claw marks of a sloth bear – the most commonly seen bear in India. These animals can be dangerous if approached very near and since they have poor eyesight and poor hearing, it is better on the part of the trekker to be on the outlook. So that one can see them and slink away well before they have seen us, by which time it would be too late.

From the edge of the Deccan plateau, the vista was beyond words. I could see range after range of Sahyadri Mountains spread out to my left and right, with their lower off-shoots running westwards to finally merge with the Kokan plains below. Despite deforestation, the green cover was still decent, although there is a lot of scope to restore this land to its former pristine glory. With blessings of Lord Parshuram, the wildlife around Chiplun has still survived the onslaught of today’s urban and industrial culture. It is time we play our part in stopping the damage further and allow nature to heal the damage already done. And this applies to all our regions, where till now the observance of eco-friendly Vedic culture had preserved our natural heritage. But the future could be uncertain, if the wasteful western model of development is not controlled. Perhaps helping the locals to emerge once again as self-sufficient communities and regulating the damage done by the inroads made by the urban culture could help in keeping our land green.

Returning to reality from the philosophical thoughts and seemingly utopian dreams of Sujalam Sufalam India, we retraced our steps back towards the highway without encountering any more significant wildlife. My guide invited me to come for an overnight stay the next time and after paying him, by 6pm I was once again seated in the bus back to Chiplun and further to the resort in Parshuram.

The last day of my trip was like an icing on the cake with a visit to the Kadyavarcha Ganpati or the Ganpati temple on a hill side near Anjarle village on the sea coast of Dapoli taluka. I had to change 3 buses from Parshuram to Khed to Dapoli to Anjarle, but the breath-taking scenery of lush green hills, winding roads, waves kissing the shore and the view of the creek from the newly built bridge, made it worthwhile. Sitting with closed eyes in the temple, I reflected on my wanderings in the wilds of Parshuram Bhoomi and found that after it I was at peace with myself.

The next day I was in the bus back to Mumbai and as I drank the nectar of Kokan’s panorama, a big kingfisher greeted me with its beautiful plumage from one of the trees. It was perhaps telling me that the wild places of India are ever eager to welcome me and my wanderings are to continue into the future.
© (The author owns the copyright and can be contacted at atulsathe@yahoo.com )