A fully loaded rucksack journey to the lands midst of the western Ghats and the Indian ocean sprinkled with rivers and the backwaters, bordered by foggy beaches and the interspersed misty forts, supported by the jettys of the jungle, the trains in the tunnels, the tooktooks and the vadaps..the buses and the ricks..in times when the strong wind stirs the calm tranquil ocean, when the August rains dresses up the brown plains in the color of life green, we started our quest to grasp the history in the dispersed geography in the land of Konkan.
The Malavali Lohgad parked the idea of such a journey in the garage of our minds. After a lot of googling, learning, deliberation, discussion an itinerary emerged from the flood of information all over the internet. 7 days of sun and 7 nights of moon and a journey along the 700 KM of the rainy green coastline... finally began to emerge within the realms of our reach.
The WE who made this journey together a success grander than we thought.
Threesome who met on one such Yatra on the rails across the bounty of India:
Ice- A scientist married to speech whom silence eludes, one of the greatest story tellers of our times… The stories which kept us grounded to reality on our journey across the unknown lands .
Beanbags- A journo who should have adorned the Ramp but was instrumental in making us meet the photographers within… A cheerful, bubbly young lass who brought all the right colors, beauty and spirit to our Konkan Graze...
And of course the me- crazy optimist in words of my peers and fellas.
On the chilly rained night at 10:00 PM two nites before the August of Independence, we took our first flight albeit comfortably seated in the MSRTC bus from Borivali to Mahad. We just managed to grab our seats, a second more… a tick delay and it would have marred a beautiful beginning. As hourglass switched itself 6 times, before the dawn, at 3:40 AM we saw ourselves in the land of Rairi. Another 45 min bus ride to Pachad we grounded ourselves at the base where the doors of our journey opened to the 'The Gibralter of East', 'Shivtirth' or the Fort of Raigad, descended from Mauryan dynasty to the Marathas, to The Shivaji Raje, the one in History. Built around tens of hundred years back in 1030 by Chandrarao Mores, 2700 feet above the level of sea connected by a flight of 1400 steps cut in the rocks, it brings in a moment of realization when heavy waters falls around walls of fort gush 2700 feet down to hit the grounds, whether I should marvel at the engineering of the walls built atop, or whether I should immerse in the thought of time travel to the times of Shivai or the times even before that… The times of the Mauryan dynasty or I should forget the associated past and just let the now to soak me in its fullness. A ropeway fleecing through the clouds to take you across thousands of feet to the doorstep in four tiny minutes..Even as you hear the thud and gush of the water across the hills and fog enlivens the spirit rather than dampen it.
All decorated in our rain coats, and the wet rucksacks soaked heavy in water we step into the fort of our dreams…. One wanting to be the queen of Shivai, and one wanting to be the beloved daughter of Maratha King we move across the stairs and the rocky gates soaked in mist and rain… It was a dream albeit with open eyes… An emotion that made me feel that I was parked on a fort built on a cloud…If there was something more than awe, I felt it there… Cupid had struck… Raigad, the fort of Rairi, I just fell for it… Just wanted to unwind the time to the times of 1676, when Raigad fort was made the capital of the Maratha Empire… A fort which was re-erected in a span of a decade and where Shivaji breathed his last breath but more than that a place where he lived for more than a decade. We could see how much the queens of those times were loved by the Kings… The ruins of the chambers, where the queens lived, six of them seperated by the walls amidst the fountains 3000 feet above the ground… Aaah… Just took my breath away…
The bazaar peth where men with muscles enough to pick a rock more than a ton in weight rode on horses to shop… Men who never bent for whom the shops were raised in height… Sixs of thousands lived above the hills and the mountains. Folks who Walked up and down the fortress 1400 stairs in less than an hour walking past the falling water and the flowers bloomed walls of the fortress…A dog Waagha which threw itself on the pyre of his beloved master…the King of Maratha.. TakmakTok a corner from where punished would be pushed to the ground. A place from where once Shivajis beloved fellowman fell but Shivaji’s advice on time to hold onto the umbrella till he landed on the ground not only saved his life but led to the nomenclature of Chatri Nizampur.
A Shiva Temple gaurded by Nandi in the center of the fort, Large Royal tubs to bath.. Larger water reservoirs, Deep warehouses..A sense of the bhavani temple in beneath the fort blessed by whom was Shivajis first sword…The broad dwars or gates and the burujs or towers adorned the fortress across the length and the breadth of the fort. A fort inaccessible stood like a Gibraltar in the history when Shivaji, the Marathas ruled the South Asia. The sense of grandeur interlaced with a Gingered tea at a height where clouds reside, where waterfalls feels like a heaven fall, where mist left to our imagination the unseen glory of the time, we started returning through the glorious passage from the clouds back to the grounded earth via the ropeway. A strong resolve to return to Rairi was written as we looked ahead at the next flagship of our Journey enroute. A ride on tooktook from the base of Raigad from Raigads Village of Pachad to Mahad to take on the MSRTC bus to the see the unconquered fort of Shivaji… The Murud Janjira of the Siddis. Taking away with us the Glory that resides even in the Ruins of Rairi we started our journey towards the beautiful revered coasts of Raigad…
Thursday, August 25, 2011
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