Sahyadrica

That time I looked at the sea, I did not think much of it. It was the warm feeling the usual place gives. It felt like strolling leisurely, but I quite dislike becoming comfortable with this feeling because it makes me invisible to things – they don’t present themselves like they used to. When that happens, moving away from the place, as I often do for long intervals, helps me reflect upon it, makes me think of things I didn’t realise earlier, makes me long even. It is winter, and I miss the sea, even as I long for the distant snow-capped Kangto I see once in a while through a sheet of fog. But time makes it difficult to reminisce. It becomes difficult to write, not because I cannot recollect, but as memories become more distant, emotions explode. Collecting them and weaving them in a string of thoughts is exhilarating if not overwhelming. But here I am, thinking about that moment I knew I would write about. Years later, I thought to myself then, I would look back at this cherished...

An Indian Humpback Dolphin, Sousa plumbea , off the coastal waters, overlooked by Konkan hills. For the first time in my explorations I find myself wanting to express this feeling, for I am as much in awe as in search of words. I have always maintained that mountains moved me. Sahyadrica’s tagline was ‘belonging to the mountains’ – the name itself means ‘of the northern Western Ghats.’ That has changed over the years, of course, but even as I wrote about the coastal region where land and sea meet, even as the sea inspired me, even as the coast offered me a diversity of experiences in various shapes and forms of marine organisms and coastal communities, it is mountains that captured my wonder and awe whenever I stood at the foot of one before climbing to the very top. It may be because the coast doesn’t challenge me the way a mountain does, or so I thought. That is a thin line I walk, for even if I am comfortable on a boat in the high sea, I am not underwater, which is why what remains ...

“You have to get lost before you can be found.” ― Jeff Rasley , Bringing Progress to Paradise: What I Got from Giving to a Mountain Village in Nepal The sun setting over your shoulder in a forest wilderness as a dark rainstorm approaches from the east is not the time for you to be out trekking on the cliff of the Western Ghats. But here you are: with your trekking friends and family, battling to conquer the fort, struggling with your inner fears; and here you want to be: beating down the stinging rain, and ever marching on. For you have shed blood and sweat on your way up. For you have prepared to complete this trek, and, more importantly, you have left behind the rat-race which you think life is all about: now, you are not chasing targets, you are chasing your ambition. You are encouraging your friends to tarry with you. You are their emotional leader, and although you know that the light fades and you’re being stalked by a rainstorm, you sit back on a rock to enjoy the view w...

The stone giants had put up a show by playing under the pre-monsoon showers of June the Second. A car had fallen prey to their nasty games. As we passed by its wreckage, staring at the giant sitting with his head in his hands, his hands on his bent leg, his large feet by the wreckage, sent shivers down my spine – it was awesome. Only a day ago I was roaming the hot and humid forests of Phansad Wildlife Sanctuary. We passed through blinding rains twinkling for a few seconds by lightening; silhouetting the somber figure of the stone giant from whose feet we turned left around the edge of Parsik hills range. If you follow this range down south, you will reach Panvel Creek as it pours into the Arabian Sea. The range continues as small hillocks as it spreads as Karnala Bird Sanctuary. South of this sanctuary, the range again breaks into small hillocks, several villages, towns, and roads crisscross this terrain, until, a little to the west – and closer to the sea – lie the typical coas...