My memories of a trip to Dang Forest, Mahal

Standing on a balcony of a forest rest house, overlooking a muddy river, one can hear the rustling leaves whispering a forgotten secret, the humming drone of a thousand insects, the rousing breeze that sways the green branches of the canopy over me and the constant gush and the mad rush of the brick coloured river breaking into white waves at the check dam...unspoilt, virgin, untouched by the decadent insidious fingers of commercialization. Open your eyes and one can see in the distance, tall trees draped in green foliage, stoically standing sentinel over a boundless, immeasurable ocean of greenery, with ebbs and troughs of grass and leaves rippling in the wild wind, the sun playing hide and seek with dusky, boisterous clouds........Mahal is Nature's lap indeed.

The intermittent chirping of invisible birds, a flight of birds cackling in unison, their unexpected crescendo, the calypso beat of a an elusive woodpecker,...forest ants marching down a green railing bar, all adding up to a magical symphony conducted by nature. I'm not the first one to be in the throes of this rapturous beauty, and I hope I'm not one of a dying breed! There are others happily ensconced in their simulated world of Angry Birds and Temple Runs!

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The population here mostly consists of marginal farmers with small plots demarcated by rickety fences. All day long one can see villagers (mostly women) doubled up, draped in dowdy saris, planting paddy saplings with back breaking ardour. Men ploughing the fertile fields with bulls abound. All along the way, wonder-eyed, half naked little children arrest your attention with their out-spread palms, innocent wonder in their eyes...many already burdened with siblings astride their gentle hips.



My Umbrella!



Does verdant nature have to be hand in hand with heart rending poverty? With nature's bounty abounding one wonders why can't the fruits of so called economic development percolate down to these adivasis? In an era of a vibrant industrialized Gujarat, one realizes that growth is perhaps never uniform. The alluring beauty seemingly camouflages this harsh truth. The irony is that this untouched canvass of beauty exists because of the protection that it receives being part of a protected forest reserve. 

You want to roll on the green meadows, like 70's heroines!

 

The river following a tortuous path amidst lush greenery. View from the top of a somewhat dry waterfall.