Dawn broke with the metallic calls of the Velvet Fronted Nuthatch and a few other birds. This was my third day in the forest, and also the last. Hereonwards, my journey was decided by Fate. The previous evening was spent discussing wildlife, the forest and everything about it over a warm campfire and some hot soup (don't forget our crawly friends who had a taste for my blood!)
Morning's crisp coolness combined with the heady fragrance of the woods was magic for the senses. All said and done, i didn't have much time for birding today. A final tour of the area yielded a few birds and the Malabar Giant Squirrel feasting happily on a few berries (read merrily posing for a photo shoot!)
The Kannadigas volunteered to travel with me to the nearest bus terminal from where i could get start off for Karwar. This place was Dandeli bus terminal. And starting off from the forest meant one thing more than anything else, wait...
This time we had some company at the bus stop. Three men and a little girl were actively engaged in banter in three different languages! The men they spoke in Tamizh (strange to come across Tamizhs in a rural Kannada village) and when mood seized them in Kannada as well. The girl was Malayalee and the only significant words from her were "Accha, Accha" which she kept repeating at periodic intervals. "Accha" means father in Malayalam, so i needn't explain further.
The choicest flavours of a language are in its swear words. I'd been enlightened to the world of Kannada swear words by an illustrious friend (dare not mention his name here!). The Tamizh men were yapping nonchalantly, when one of the members suddenly became a bit excited. He was describing a situation where he'd apparently been cheated of his wages for the day. Bile and anger combined can have a heady effect on conversations and the lingua takes on a new form of its own.
"Bolimagane..." the man went off and on. The mere mention of this word was enough to trigger off explosive laughter for me. The Kannadiga boys, wait, let me introduce them to you, Mayur and Rohit also laughed when they heard him swear! The meaning of the swear doesn't hold as much meaning and gravity as the mention of it. Don't treat a swear word by its literal meaning, it becomes crass! Its the easiest vent to emotions and feeling, and good fun all said and done! Yes, i'm not disclosing the meaning of the word, those who know it, know it...
After yet another eternal wait, the earth turned 'round its axis, the Indian parliament of ministers dilly dallied yet again, and someone somewhere was killed as part of a revolution, and all that jazz, and my bus arrived for Dandeli bus terminal.
Rohit and Mayur then left for some sightseeing around, and i was instructed to get into a bus that headed for Kumta or Ankola. Both buses went via Karwar and would drop me there. How do i know which bus is mine? Ask the conductor, or read the signs in Kannada! There was some time at hand (the bus was at 2 PM, and it was just clocking one!) so i had to wait yet again. Uneasiness at the fact that i could be sitting at the wrong terminal for the bus, and the fear of getting into trouble were a constant bother, but then when you're in, you're in...
"Kumta chi bus aali aahey ka?" - First attempt in Marathi because North K'taka has affinity with the Marathis
"Kumta ki bus aayi hai kya? Kab aayegi?" - Second attempt in the national language
"When's the bus for Kumta expected?" - No response expected for this question, but nevertheless...
"Jabber jabber jabber, something something, more something something, hogbeku..." the conductor couldn't bother to answer me despite me giving him the wide option of 3 different languages. I'm quite sure he knew Marathi and Hindi for sure, but didn't want to respond. His response was more like him spitting paan than anything else. WTF...??
A helpful kid spoke Marathi (the kid sitting next to me) told the bus's still to come. In the meanwhile, i'd memorized the spellings for Kumta and Ankola in Kannada. Match and tell, and jump into the bus when it comes. Don't ask, just jump!
2:30 PM, Dandeli bus terminal :- The bus arrives and is excitedly chased by the passengers (not an exaggeration) and before it stops, there's a wild clamour to get in. A giant backpack and a li'l backpack my weapons, a prayer for safety, and i plunged into the fray, both hands swinging like cleavers at anything that came nearby. Empty seat spotted next to some women who looked like tribals. Who cares, the seat matters.
"What's this apparition carrying such huge bags? What's he doing?" wonder the people around, and before you could complete reading this thought, my rearside was resting comfortably on the seat at the back of the bus.
Traveling in a State Transport bus in rural India is always fun, and nothing short of an adventure. For a few moments, all Hell breaks loose and people clamber in from all possible vents (i'm writing this as straight-facedly as i'd be at a funeral) and fights are commonplace. It'd be terrific fun if a fight broke out between people who spoke very different lingos, but i wasn't privileged enough for such a fight!
Let your imagination run wild because i didn't dare record this battle on camera...
"Jibbery jib, jibbery jabber, jibbery jabbery jabber jabber!" - Old woman eating paan slightly short of spitting it on a young woman's face. The young woman's sitting on the next seat behind this old woman.
"Jabber jabber, jibber jabber jabber..." - Young woman now excited into the heat of the fray, just short of loosening her hair and turning into a banshee.
"Arre meri Amma, ab bas karo aur chup ho jaao!" - Moslem gentleman who's clearly irritated and understands just as much Kannada as i do! He's sitting right behind this scene of action and risks getting sprayed with paan and spittle.
"Koothko Amma, koothko koothko!" - Bus conductor's shouting from somewhere out there. Conductor risks being thrown out of the bus because of the unruly crowd jostling for space. Conductor tries his best to dispense tickets to the mob.
Miscellaneous swears emanate from my direction (no i was being civil and simply enjoying the fun in silence!). A college going kid was shouting, and thought this'd be good sport to excite the fighters even more!
As much as you'd like to picturize it as a Shakespearean drama unfolding in real life, just accelerate the time and throw in all the characters, live and talking at once, and you'll have some idea of what was happening.
Being enlightened in Kannada swear words meant i was tempted to use them, but the fear of being thrown out of the bus, whole or in pieces didn't seem appealing in any way, so my fun with the swear words was in the mind!
Why was this happening? The young woman had committed the unpardonable crime of misappropriating a seat duly territory marked by the oldie with a cloth bag. The young woman invoked Habeaus Corpus, "show me the body, show me the evidence of marking" as her counter-argument. The battle raged on as a stalemate, but thanks to the efforts of the Moslem gentleman and the conductor who'd miraculously fought his way back into the bus, armistice was declared.
The bus wound its way through elephant and tiger forest, along badly paved tarmac roads and finally through dirt tracks. My adivasi aka tribal female companions had some colour to offer as well. They'd brought a live rooster in the bus alongwith something else. This something else was a matter of grave concern for one of the ladies, more than her son sleeping peacefully in a corner, almost forgotten. Time and again she kept looking back for that something. The rooster was a marvelously discplined cock! Not a peck or crow whilst he was inside a plastic tote bag!
Battle having ended, i wound up with some music for fear of falling asleep and waking up at Kumta. The sight of earphones and my state of nirvana, was a joke for those wild women, and peals of laughter burst out on either side. Never mind the lingo, i understood they were laughing because i wasn't bothered about what raged on around me and was merry with my music.
I was warned in sombre, almost hushed tones about the roads being bad and selecting a rear end seat for my rear end. Hell, i wanted a rolling, rollicking ride anyways, so why not give it a shot? It was roller coasterish at places, but not too bad either! The only discomfiture being a fellow traveler who slept off assuming my shoulder's a good pillow (a local female headed to Karwar).
The road wound through dense forest all along the way (parts of wildlife reserves) and at every point it seemed an elephant or bison could be spotted calmly grazing alongside the road. Fantasies remained divorced from reality, and nothing as such happened. I slept fitfully at places and was once woken up to what sounded like a religious discourse in Kannada. A senior gentleman sang beautifully, and despite my stance on religion, i enjoyed the experience!
After what seemed like eternity, forest gave way to fields and "District Karwar" began to appear on signboards. A golden sun was setting over the Kali river as it met the Arabian sea colouring the water with its tangerine hue. The bus pulled over at a terminal and it seemed it was the place i wanted to go, but not quite what i'd thought it'd be. Nevertheless, a different adventure was to start from here onwards...
Morning's crisp coolness combined with the heady fragrance of the woods was magic for the senses. All said and done, i didn't have much time for birding today. A final tour of the area yielded a few birds and the Malabar Giant Squirrel feasting happily on a few berries (read merrily posing for a photo shoot!)
 |
| This is a real close up! |
The Kannadigas volunteered to travel with me to the nearest bus terminal from where i could get start off for Karwar. This place was Dandeli bus terminal. And starting off from the forest meant one thing more than anything else, wait...
This time we had some company at the bus stop. Three men and a little girl were actively engaged in banter in three different languages! The men they spoke in Tamizh (strange to come across Tamizhs in a rural Kannada village) and when mood seized them in Kannada as well. The girl was Malayalee and the only significant words from her were "Accha, Accha" which she kept repeating at periodic intervals. "Accha" means father in Malayalam, so i needn't explain further.
The choicest flavours of a language are in its swear words. I'd been enlightened to the world of Kannada swear words by an illustrious friend (dare not mention his name here!). The Tamizh men were yapping nonchalantly, when one of the members suddenly became a bit excited. He was describing a situation where he'd apparently been cheated of his wages for the day. Bile and anger combined can have a heady effect on conversations and the lingua takes on a new form of its own.
"Bolimagane..." the man went off and on. The mere mention of this word was enough to trigger off explosive laughter for me. The Kannadiga boys, wait, let me introduce them to you, Mayur and Rohit also laughed when they heard him swear! The meaning of the swear doesn't hold as much meaning and gravity as the mention of it. Don't treat a swear word by its literal meaning, it becomes crass! Its the easiest vent to emotions and feeling, and good fun all said and done! Yes, i'm not disclosing the meaning of the word, those who know it, know it...
After yet another eternal wait, the earth turned 'round its axis, the Indian parliament of ministers dilly dallied yet again, and someone somewhere was killed as part of a revolution, and all that jazz, and my bus arrived for Dandeli bus terminal.
 | |
| The road was very much like this! |
Rohit and Mayur then left for some sightseeing around, and i was instructed to get into a bus that headed for Kumta or Ankola. Both buses went via Karwar and would drop me there. How do i know which bus is mine? Ask the conductor, or read the signs in Kannada! There was some time at hand (the bus was at 2 PM, and it was just clocking one!) so i had to wait yet again. Uneasiness at the fact that i could be sitting at the wrong terminal for the bus, and the fear of getting into trouble were a constant bother, but then when you're in, you're in...
"Kumta chi bus aali aahey ka?" - First attempt in Marathi because North K'taka has affinity with the Marathis
"Kumta ki bus aayi hai kya? Kab aayegi?" - Second attempt in the national language
"When's the bus for Kumta expected?" - No response expected for this question, but nevertheless...
"Jabber jabber jabber, something something, more something something, hogbeku..." the conductor couldn't bother to answer me despite me giving him the wide option of 3 different languages. I'm quite sure he knew Marathi and Hindi for sure, but didn't want to respond. His response was more like him spitting paan than anything else. WTF...??
A helpful kid spoke Marathi (the kid sitting next to me) told the bus's still to come. In the meanwhile, i'd memorized the spellings for Kumta and Ankola in Kannada. Match and tell, and jump into the bus when it comes. Don't ask, just jump!
 |
| The way ahead... |
"What's this apparition carrying such huge bags? What's he doing?" wonder the people around, and before you could complete reading this thought, my rearside was resting comfortably on the seat at the back of the bus.
Traveling in a State Transport bus in rural India is always fun, and nothing short of an adventure. For a few moments, all Hell breaks loose and people clamber in from all possible vents (i'm writing this as straight-facedly as i'd be at a funeral) and fights are commonplace. It'd be terrific fun if a fight broke out between people who spoke very different lingos, but i wasn't privileged enough for such a fight!
Let your imagination run wild because i didn't dare record this battle on camera...
"Jibbery jib, jibbery jabber, jibbery jabbery jabber jabber!" - Old woman eating paan slightly short of spitting it on a young woman's face. The young woman's sitting on the next seat behind this old woman.
"Jabber jabber, jibber jabber jabber..." - Young woman now excited into the heat of the fray, just short of loosening her hair and turning into a banshee.
"Arre meri Amma, ab bas karo aur chup ho jaao!" - Moslem gentleman who's clearly irritated and understands just as much Kannada as i do! He's sitting right behind this scene of action and risks getting sprayed with paan and spittle.
"Koothko Amma, koothko koothko!" - Bus conductor's shouting from somewhere out there. Conductor risks being thrown out of the bus because of the unruly crowd jostling for space. Conductor tries his best to dispense tickets to the mob.
Miscellaneous swears emanate from my direction (no i was being civil and simply enjoying the fun in silence!). A college going kid was shouting, and thought this'd be good sport to excite the fighters even more!
As much as you'd like to picturize it as a Shakespearean drama unfolding in real life, just accelerate the time and throw in all the characters, live and talking at once, and you'll have some idea of what was happening.
Being enlightened in Kannada swear words meant i was tempted to use them, but the fear of being thrown out of the bus, whole or in pieces didn't seem appealing in any way, so my fun with the swear words was in the mind!
Why was this happening? The young woman had committed the unpardonable crime of misappropriating a seat duly territory marked by the oldie with a cloth bag. The young woman invoked Habeaus Corpus, "show me the body, show me the evidence of marking" as her counter-argument. The battle raged on as a stalemate, but thanks to the efforts of the Moslem gentleman and the conductor who'd miraculously fought his way back into the bus, armistice was declared.
The bus wound its way through elephant and tiger forest, along badly paved tarmac roads and finally through dirt tracks. My adivasi aka tribal female companions had some colour to offer as well. They'd brought a live rooster in the bus alongwith something else. This something else was a matter of grave concern for one of the ladies, more than her son sleeping peacefully in a corner, almost forgotten. Time and again she kept looking back for that something. The rooster was a marvelously discplined cock! Not a peck or crow whilst he was inside a plastic tote bag!
Battle having ended, i wound up with some music for fear of falling asleep and waking up at Kumta. The sight of earphones and my state of nirvana, was a joke for those wild women, and peals of laughter burst out on either side. Never mind the lingo, i understood they were laughing because i wasn't bothered about what raged on around me and was merry with my music.
I was warned in sombre, almost hushed tones about the roads being bad and selecting a rear end seat for my rear end. Hell, i wanted a rolling, rollicking ride anyways, so why not give it a shot? It was roller coasterish at places, but not too bad either! The only discomfiture being a fellow traveler who slept off assuming my shoulder's a good pillow (a local female headed to Karwar).
The road wound through dense forest all along the way (parts of wildlife reserves) and at every point it seemed an elephant or bison could be spotted calmly grazing alongside the road. Fantasies remained divorced from reality, and nothing as such happened. I slept fitfully at places and was once woken up to what sounded like a religious discourse in Kannada. A senior gentleman sang beautifully, and despite my stance on religion, i enjoyed the experience!
After what seemed like eternity, forest gave way to fields and "District Karwar" began to appear on signboards. A golden sun was setting over the Kali river as it met the Arabian sea colouring the water with its tangerine hue. The bus pulled over at a terminal and it seemed it was the place i wanted to go, but not quite what i'd thought it'd be. Nevertheless, a different adventure was to start from here onwards...
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