Manas Day 2 - the morning belonged to the river Beki

And so the lockdown in TN and Chennai goes on until May 31st.  Covid numbers rise, out-of-state workers continue to struggle to get home, as everyone tries to help, but it's just not enough.

Time to continue to write, and catch up with my photos and pictures, and relive those memories.

January 12th 2020

Continued from here.

The day was full of action, and the morning was all about the river Beki, the tributary of the Manas, both of which originate in Bhutan and flow in to the Bramhaputra.

6am - It must have been some 9degrees or less in the morning, oh it was freeeeezing, even with gloves and thermals and jacket and what not.  The tip of my nose was the only part of my face that was exposed, and it was beginning to drip, with the cold.  (Oh this was pre-COVID times, dripping noses didn't terrify us.)  Jungles are always colder than an urban area in the same geographical zone, and this was no exception. But the cold couldn't dampen the good old Madrasi spirit,

Looking back now, and the masks across our faces seems quite normal in today's world.

The Bhutan hills were a hint and a shadow to the north as we drove in to the central Basbari range, past the peacocks and jungle fowl.

The tyres of the jeep crunched over the gravel, sounding louder in the still, quiet morning air.  Even the birds were not up and about as yet, it seemed.  

The beautiful morning light, off the trees, was indescribable - the way it lit the forest, and brought to life different hues and shades of green and brown.  The taller Bombax trees, the mid-sized Elephant apple and the lower grasses and shrubs.

I enjoyed watching the leaves turn almost golden with the sun, and the grand trees and buttress roots.

Elephant Apple trees - Dillenia Indica, were everywhere, young and mature.  Some were in pod.

Leaf art by insects

We set off together with the idea of reaching the rafting point at Mathan Guri for breakfast.  Along the way though, our jeep seemed to have moved apart from the others.  So there was just two jeeps and we went to a watch tower, and there was no sign of the others.  Much Assamese on the phone, but things were not much clearer to us. 

Kumar, Usha and me in one jeep, and Pritam and Shuba with Pranjal, were in the other.  Pritam was unusually sangfroid in the face of this confusion - it was difficult to be otherwise amidst all this natural beauty!  As we wandered, we saw -

the camp elephants among the grasses,

little streams by the side of the track,

spreading green canopies above, 

and even a pair of black storks.

Silk cotton trees were ablaze with flowers.  What a sight they were.  

Fairy bluebirds, Spangled drongoes and Bombax trees full of chestnut-tailed starlings.  

Finally after much beautiful meandering, we arrived at Mathanguri.  This is the point where there used to be a forest guest house (Not so long ago - 2017) and visitors would stay. Upper and Lower Mathanguri bungalows - they were was now in ruins. It was unclear as to why they had been neglected like this, and there was a new guest house coming up!

 Clear blue waters, with smooth river-worn stones. It seems that they have strengthened the banks, with stones piled up more than seemed natural.  

We breakfasted on boiled eggs, bread and bananas by the riverside, and it reminded me of a similar breakfast we had in Bhutan on another riverside!

As we breakfasted, we enjoyed watching the White wagtail, flit and wag tail as well.  This is the Himalayan sub-species Motacilla alba alboides which is more black on the back, for a white wagtail! Photo by Sudar

The white-capped redstart or white-capped water redstart (Phoenicurus leucocephalus) I last saw in Bhutan was also around, flashes of rust as it darted low across the water.  Photos by Sudar

The river lapwing (Vanellus duvaucelii) stood still and morosely.  After a while, tiring of our attention, it took off with a high-pitched pip pip pip, quite dissimilar to the RW lapwing call.  Photo by Sudar

Across, on the other bank was Bhutan!  I learnt that the village of Panbang in Bhutan is just a couple of hours away, and supposedly you can go there with an Indian passport.  Information for next time.  

We ladies managed to use the dilapidated and dark loos.  Me of course distressed by the level of garbage on the river bank - why oh why cannot we keep anything properly, I wondered and fretted.  I asked the forest guards as to why dustbins could not be provided, and could there not be better garbage disposal.  He promised that next time I visited it would be all spruced up.  Hmm, did that mean more concrete and cement?

Downstream on a rubber raft

Photo by Venkatesh

Rafting on the river or not?  Take camera or not?  Shoes or not?  Are we going to get wet?  Things were not very clear to me and I had a hundred questions, and to be on the safe side, (Sekar’s in-absentia cautions kicking in) I left the camera behind, but took the phone, and wore shoes (stupidity) - even though I had taken a pair of rubber chappals in my bag.

Clambered down to the waterfront, rubber dinghies - got into one, with Aparna, Venkatesh, Bhuvanya and Sudar.  and suddenly, I was filled with anxiety.  Whaaaat?  This did not look very stable, it would definitely topple, was the river calm?  What would happen to my phone?  Bizarre - solo travelling made me into a different animal - usually I leave all this kind of responsibility and worry on Sekar’s shoulders and am quite bindaas and carefree - what was this new me?  I put my phone into a ziplock and put it into Bhuvanya’s bag.  Sudar had his mighty “gun” camera and didnt seem in the least bothered.  Bhuvanya was laughing cheerfully and chattering away.  And then we were off.  Venkatesh calmly recounted stories of falling into the river on some other trip. (How timely!)  OK he made up by demonstrating the technique of wedging heel into the gap between the side and the bottom of the raft and holding on to the rope - “if you go overboard, hang on to the boat.  Thank you very much.

The river was so gorgeously beautiful, that how could one be worried - I soon forgot and was enchanted.  Soon I heard a growing murmur, like a waterfall, and my apprehension was back- what was that?  Are we going around it?  No, through it!  Oh just some gentle rapids I'm sure, said Venkatesh complacently.  Huh, what??? Oh no oh no, I don’t want to get wet, I should’ve also stayed back with Suresh, who did not come for the river ride.  Venkatesh saying hold on now - its just a gentle rapid.  Now that is an oxymoron I thought to myself, if ever there was one, gentle rapid?!  No one else bothered - Aparna and Bhuvanya continued to chatter, what about I do not remember.  Our rafters knew exactly what to do and expertly steered our raft through, and I heaved a sigh of relief.  OK Rapid 101 then.

Phew!  And then I relaxed. never mind shoes were completely soaked by now.  And I began to look around.

A startled Common Merganser took off in a hurry, and I caught a flash of white feathers and red beak before it was gone. I could still count it among my first lifer for the day!   As usual. I was always looking at the wrong place at the right time.  Thankfully Sudar did not have my affliction!  Photo by Sudar

These Small Pratincoles were swooping around as they hunted for insects - they were at a distance, and Sudar's zoom helped bring them closer. Photo by Sudar

The shoreline was a jumble of debris from upriver I guess, and reminders of a river in spate.  Venkatesh spied the Pied Kingfisher on a fallen log, keeping company with a cormorant.  It was absolutely delightful to see not a single scrap of plastic or rubbish.

If Sudar had been a cowboy, he would have been the quickest draw in town.  He captured a picture of this smooth-coated river otter, which was into the river in the blink of an eye.  I saw its snout in the water - I told you, wrong place, right time! The otter is battling habitat loss, and listed as Vulnerable  It was good to see them swimming in the clear waters of the Beki.

 Photo by Venkatesh just after the otter got in the water! Missed it by a whisker   Cool and clear waters that I ran my fingers through, so clear I could see the river bed stones.  We encountered more rapids - which I rather enjoyed now. 

The majestic Pallas Eagle pair - they swooped, glided and fished as we drifted downstream and stared at us from the shore.  Photo by Venkatesh

The large Ruddy Shelducks were seen in pairs, and if our raft went too close, they would take off with an indignant honking call.  These birds form long lasting pairs, and they generally hang around with their mates.  Handsome birds.  Photo by Venkatesh

The Wild buffaloes ....it was good to have the river between us, their body language full of menace.  Photo by Mr Shankarnarayan

After about 2-3 km, when I could have gone on for much longer, we came to the point where we had to alight.  By this time, I was ready to do it all over again, even though the sun was right overhead.

We had come down from the rear flowing river.  This water in the foreground seemed like a backwash.  Further downstream, the Bihu mela was on in full swing - in the middle of the river!!

Bombax thorns up close. Shimolu in local language

It was one o clock, and time for lunch! Florican was a 100m away.  To the left is the Manas sanctuary periphery and where we would see rhinos hanging around.

Afternoon at the Bhudapara range in the next post

Madras to Manas - Day 1 of our Assam Adventure

Here we are all locked down and "covided".  Sigh!  Assam in January seems a dream.  Yes I travelled, from Madras to Manas, all in a day, I went from beach and coconut trees to Silk Cotton, grasslands and rhinos.

It was a week of unforgettable sights, memories and new friendships, in an MNS trip that was missing my usual companions - Sekar, Raji, Sheila!

11th January 2020 - Day 1

It had been a hectic first fortnight of January - a Sogetsu Ikebana exhibition at Cholamandal, good friends Mona and Donu visiting from Chicago, and last minute packing.  Packed all the warm clothes I could find at home, and some more, (Vijay's message exhorted us to "layer", pack moisturiser, and be prepared for the cold),  and I had a rather bulky bag. Nervously weighed it, and yay, I was within limits!

345 am - left from home at this ungodly hour. Last minute change of backpack. Packing of battery packs. Off with a resigned Sekar as chauffeur to the airport picking up Pritam and Shubha along the way.

The frisson at the beginning of a trip is wonderful.  Anticipation, meeting up with old and new traveling companions. Greetings all around. My usual "inner circle" of mates and partners in crime were missing - Raji, Sheila (and of course Sekar, my long-suffering husband!), so it was a different feeling.  Much to my chagrin, I realised that I had graduated to the "older group" with the younger crew of the Sudars and Yuvan around. My rooming companion Devika had managed to hurt her toe quite badly, but was her usual unflappable self.  Cousin Kumar and family were in full attendance on this trip.  Venkatesh and Aparna, Suresh, Shantharam, Mr Shankarnarayanan...good mornings all around.  Elu and Kumar had gone ahead to explore Guwahati.

We were spread out across the Indigo flight - I was in 20A - and the flight to Kolkata was for catching up on sleep.

Kolkata to Gwahati - The Captain announces that we should watch out for the Himalayas, and there they were in the distance.

First sights of the Bramhaputra from the air.

Touchdown!  Guwahati airport was clean and neat. (I was rather pleased to see that it was named after a local Gandhian Gopinath Bordoloi.)  We met Pranjal, our accompanying naturalist for the entire trip and Hiranya, who was coordinating from HELP Tourism.  Elu and Kumar were at the airport too.  Our transport had come - Innovas - and we all were welcomed with shawls with lovely Assamese embroidery - I was introduced to the Gamusa - like our ponnadais.  More about it later.

Close to 10 am, and so we set  off. Sudar, Bhuvanya and Yuvan and me in one vehicle, with our driver Ramanan. And I had my first glimpses of the beautiful state of Assam.

Bamboo everywhere

Marvellous non-plastic packaging

Crossing the Bramhaputra, as we travelled north on the New Saraighat bridge - I think that's the old one across.  The parapets were so high, that I could only get occasional peeks of the river we were crossing.

We travelled on NH31 - amazingly good surface, and a divided highway.  

We stopped for breakfast...but where was everyone else?  

I loved the names of the towns - Nalbari, Barpeta, Sarupeta.   Poles filled with doves, beautiful little bamboo groves in homes, bamboo fences, ponds, and green and clean.  It was love at first sight.

Many streams and tributaries crossed

We entered  a  tea garden, 

and then there was the Manas arch, turn left and bump along a dusty road and we had arrived!

Florican cottage was a joy.  What a beautiful location, and run by Manas Ever Welfare Society - MEWS.  The cottage is at the edge of the sanctuary and within a 100m of the Beki tributary of the Manas river.

In true MNS style we kind of just wandered into rooms and settled down without a fuss.  The rooms were simple, clean and had all that we needed - clean loos and hot water.  It was lunch time, and we were all assembled in a trice in the lunch room, which is open on the sides, and in the middle, in-between the rooms.

One of the first discoveries was the lemon at lunch.  Hmm interesting.  It has a thick skin, and is tart, and accompanied every meal for the next seven days.  I quite enjoyed squeezing it on dal, which was also a regular part of meals.

Near the wall, a Powder Puff tree full of sunbirds, doves, bulbuls swooping by and tree sparrows.  The sun was shining as we set off for our first safari at 2pm in the afternoon.

Manas first impressions

What a magical introduction.

Welcomed by peacocks

and jungle fowls.  We would see them every time we entered and exited the park.

Silk Cotton forests!  A first for me, and throughout the trip, a lot of the bird "action" was around these trees.

Yellow-footed Green Pigeons seemed most bored at my excitement.

A Blue-Throated barbet! (Psilopogon asiaticus) What a beauty! My first of many lifers that Manas would reveal.  (Photo by Suresh)

The streaked spiderhunter (Arachnothera magna) (Photo by Suresh)

and the Lineated Barbet (Psilopogon lineatus), that's found only in the Bramhaputra region.  This is similar to the brown-headed and white-cheeked barbet, but the steaks go much further down on the chest, and there's no white "eyebrow", or cheek patch.  (Photo by Suresh)

Find the male Siberian Stonechat.  They were everywhere, we saw them everyday, every ride.  But this was my first sighting.  Soon I would recognise their clicking call, as they flew in the grasslands, searching for insects and well camouflaged.  The males were easier to spot for me.  The females, are a duller colour.

Little streams and ponds dotted our drive

The sun was sinking rapidly over the vast grasslands which stretched as far as my eye could see, it was becoming cooler and we moved towards a watchtower, to take in the view.  

A 360 view. Terai Grasslands.  And so much more!

The evening just got better and better

We climbed up to the watchtower, and I for one could not contain my excitement, awe and wonder.

My first rhino sighting, and it was a mother and baby! What a sight - these mega-herbivores, and shapers landscapes.

The baby was a sensation.  Turns out, it had made the local newspapers, and I was privileged to see it and the mother.

The news item said the mother R3A (couldn't they have given her a nice name as well?) was 6 years old and had become a mother for the first time.  The grandma had been translocated from Pobitora.

Born on Jan 4th - less than 10 days old, when we saw it!  It roamed around on its own, but never more than 10 feet from mom, it seemed.  

Strangely endearing - Small ears, big horn, armour plated, the magical one-tonne unicorns of Assam, 

with a butt like a Mami in madusaar,

that prehensile lip and constant singleminded eating.  Watching the rhino like this, it was easy to forget its strength - I felt like walking across the grass and engaging with it, so peaceful did it look.

There was more magic - a pair of Hen Harriers (Circus cyaneus) (another lifer) flew majestically in unison across the grasslands, and I learnt from Pranjal that the male was the whiter/grey one with black wing tips and the female was the one with the Kite-like colourations.  They went and settled in the grassland, out of sight, and it could have been that they were nesting there?  After a bit, the male was seen in the air again, circling and looking to me as if it was hunting for dinner.

A peacock danced and sedately pirouetted, reminding me so much of the moves of a Kathakali dancer, 

a wild boar snuffling around, as the grass was lit by the descending sun

I could've stayed there all night but it was time to go.

We were not done yet though.

We reached another clearing, another watchtower (Budha Budhi)  and we came across the most number of mixed herbivores I have ever seen together.

There were elephants, gaur, rhino and hog deer and wild boar, all in close proximity.  The light may have been fading, and the pictures were not the best, but what a magnificent sight. Soon, it was just shadows, and grey silhouettes fading into the jungles.

Mr Shankarnarayan captured a beautiful moment, which you can see by clicking here, of a rhino and a Gaur sizing each other up, or was it a friendly greeting?

My heart was full, all was well with the world, and as we watched, the magnificent creatures went back into the tree cover, probably unhappy with the attention they were getting from us.

It was just 5 in the evening, but the sun was setting, and there was an immediate creeping chill in the air.

As we made our way out in the safari jeeps, I thought about all the poaching and the civil strife that drove Manas down a rotten path, now revived and healthy.

It was a short ride back to Florican, and I hurried into thermals and all the warm wear that I brought, plus there was a bonfire to boot.

Cute little puppies who also decided the best place to be was at the bonfire!  It was not late, probably around 6, but it was pitch dark.

We sat around the bonfire, moving around to warm all parts of ourselves, including our freezing butts, and given all the synthetic stuff we were wearing, it would have just needed one spark to cause some damage.  Cheerful chatter, notes exchanged, and my mind wandered in disbelief.  Was I really here, at the foot of the Bhutan hills, some 2,500 kms away from where I was this morning?

Hot dinner, soup, roti dal and that lemon is what I remember, and everyone wanted to hurry indoors and under blankets.  Hot water bottles were in great demand!

It was good to get under the thick rasais, Devika tired and probably in some pain and discomfort had crashed out.  But a ventilator over my head was sending down this freezing draft, so I roused myself from under that rasa and went in search of help in getting that closed.

Aah, that felt better and warm.

More Manas Magic awaited.

Lifers for the day -

The rhino of course
Siberian stonechat
Hen Harriers
Blue-throated barbet
Lineated barbet

Continued here.  

Lockdown diaries - Home to see the 'baby', and a happy Mother's Day

The "mother" Kopsia in my mother's garden 

And I got home to finally see the "baby" in flower.

Strange, inexplicable joy and delight.

And the coppersmith barbets have returned in my absence, tonk-tonking on the neighbour's bare teak tree.  Ever since the Millingtonia fell, they have been absent.

And the koels are calling frantically.  All night long it feels like.

Lockdown Diaries - Changing colours, trading places

White blooms at dusk
Light pink the next day
And flaming red thereafter,

the Rangoon malli always fascinated me, from my childhood.
How could this plant have flowers of so many hues?

Upright buds
Drooping blooms

I admired them this morning

once again

as I sought refuge

in my mother's garden, 

following the tailor bird

that called to me from within.

Combretum indicum, aka Quisqualis indica aka Rangoon creeper aka Rangoon malli

Gastropod sighted

The Great African Snail - moved with intent

Achatina fulica

May Day, May Day, Tabebuias in bloom!

Chennai
Hanami
Lockdown
Flowers drop, softly, on their own
No planes
No tamasha.