(DISCLAIMER: Ladies and gentlemen, before you read ahead I want to set the record straight that this post presents a satirical view on things and should not in anyways be used to judge the setting or the ppl involved. Bhigvan as a place is like heaven on earth and nothing seems better to me than trips to Bhigvan from time to time.. But what can I say.. life at times can be comical.. )
Where do I begin?? Ah!! at the very beginning.. To set the background this is my first hand narrative of my first bird watching camping trip..
What is to say!! I love Bird watching..
(sadly to all my testosterone pumped peers.. this particular interpretation deals solely with the practise of watching creatures that fly..)
Anyways word has come that water levels in Bhigwan has receded.. bird population is booming and did someone mention flamingos???
D-DAY - ONWARDS TO THE CAMP AT DIKSAL-
So to the beckoning of this subtle call of the wild headed out the usual suspects.. (Mahen, BG and myself..) to bravely set foot where no man has gone before.. (I mean that right down to the tee). Armed with a SLR, tent and scanty provisions we left with a plan to set camp early morning.. on a deserted island in the middle of the Bheema river backwaters near Diksal. As we drove down from Pune, each one of us was playing their own fantasy of a Nat Geo professional huddled in a tent trying to shoot an elusive target.
The break of dawn finds us at a fisherman's camp at Diksal very near to our chosen campsite.
I would have liked to quote in true poetic prose, "Aah.. early mornings in rustic India, the sweet chirping of the birds, the sweet sound of a flute, the hustle bustle of the quintessential village Indian house wife for whom another day in her agrarian life has just started.... "
Well, reality check!!! Apparently rustic India begs to differ.. At 6 in the morning it seemed we were the only ppl left on the planet on the eve of a nuclear fallout... Anyways, I took it upon myself armed with the power of .25 watts of light from a nokia handset to search for our boatman in that harem of sleepy door less huts. Strategy being.. pick a house, enter, scream "Gangaram!!", effectively blind any offensive fishermen with a concentrated dose my Nokia sponsored light sabre to the victim's corneas, and then head for the hills before they have time to react!!!.
Pls note, do not try to imitate this as this is done by trained professionals.. Hell hath no fury than the wrath of a estranged and drowsy fisherman..
Anyways we finally find a boatman willing to take us to our chosen spot.. We are about to step into his boat and what do we see?? .. Its half full of water.. and we are not even on it yet!!! So in true Pirates of Caribbean style, our main man fishes out a small mug, gives us a "been there done that" look and starts clearing the boat of "excess weight".. And given his efficiency at this early hour, it seemed he has apparently "been there and done that" quite a few times.. So after a few thousand mug fulls, we finally head out in a semi dry boat towards the promised land..
Now ladies and gentlemen, if I thought that pioneers like Columbus and Vasco de Gama became famous by stepping on dry land in all their pomp and splendor and christening it "The New World".. it did not take too long for that thought to change..
What was initially thought of as a quick hop off the boat onto dry land became trudging knee deep in algae covered sludge with mud chilled to sub zero temperatures to that sole strip of dry land capable of bearing more weight than a human's foot...
PRE-TENTING WOES (Step1: Setup tent Step2: Sleep Step3: Howzzat!!! huh.. ???)
Given our state of readiness to handle all contingencies, where most would recommend carrying mosquito repellent and warm clothes we came to conquer the land armed with a packet of biscuits and a bottle of khus!!! So given the lack of any mechanism to rid our feet of the clinging mudslide, we cleansed whatever we could using any available patch of greenery and setup camp.. So after bidding fond adieu to our accommodating boatman, early into the start of our "in-tent" experience we discover some minor issues..
- The tent can open in only one direction which basically meant choosing the right direction would mean the difference between that quintessential great photograph and diddly squat!!!
- Silence (and no sudden movements) is golden and absolutely necessary if you want to photograph any birds..
Now let me set a background here that Mahen and myself had not slept the previous day in activities relating to the preparation for the trip. So since we had beaten the birds to the spot, we decided to sneak 40 winks while the birds still came in.. The way we saw at it this was a win-win situation... We get some well needed rest and the slumber would ensure we do not inadvertently create any noise that might scare away the birds. So soon we were in slumber land dreaming of the dazzling photography that the world would soon see via our camera lens... . zzzZZZZZ...
WORLDCUP 2007 anyone???
30 mins into our slumber finds a unknown head suddenly entering our tent saying "Sahib!!! Utho sahib, wapis nahi chalna kya?? Din bhar idhar hi rahoge" (Sir, wake up..? Don't you want to get back. Planning to spend the day here?). So much for not making noise..!!! Anyways after profusely "thanking" our boatman (owner of that unknown head) for his initiative we decided to give it another go.. and promptly went to sleep again...
Another 30 mins of blissful slumber and we are woken up by a frantic BG to find that our solitary spot has become the venue for the annual Bhigwan junior cricket worldcup. To think that this same spot seemed like a heaven for birds just 24 hours back seems to be a thought of a very distant past..
And if this was not bad enough, try and imagine this ... It seemed that the sight of a very well camouflaged tent in the middle of a lone island devoid of any bird life for miles, attracted more attention to other visitors of Bhigwan as compared to the birds themselves... So not only were we caught napping in the middle of a lone lake, with the local Srinath practising his pacers, we were also widely photographed while at it..
STUCK BETWEEN SHOOTERS AND ROAD RAGE
When something that you have been dreaming about doing since a very matured past, bombs in your face in the most public manner possible it is obvious that most ppl would SNAP.. And that is exactly what happened.. Post our slinky departure from our cynosure activities of the day, Gangaram our boat man decided to assuage our crestfallen spirits by taking us on a soothing boat ride around the lake at the peak of the day.. ( a very close friend of mine has trademarked this phenomenon as "Peak Dhoop theorem" which kinda postulates that "if there is any activity to be done outdoors, chances are that fate will schedule it at a time when the heat from the Sun is just about a degree below the human threshold of pain.."). Fisherman by profession, evolution had already gifted Gangaram with more than his fair share of melanin, but who would defend us city slickers from the dangers of skin cancer due to this journey to the surface of the sun?? Today when I retrospect I cannot put my finger on what exactly led Mahen to snap... was it our very public tenting failure, the intense heat, or the impending risk of skin cancer.. We will never know.. All I know is that my camera was snatched out of my hands and in the next 10 post traumatic minutes any living thing that moved was zapped in the face by 100 megawatts of flash from a powerful SLR.. It would like a manic gunman had decided to unleash all of lifes unfairness to the world around him.. Those poor birds never even realized what hit them.. Next time you see a innocent pair of cormorants flying aimlessly, you can guess that they are still disoriented by that day's dazzling revelations..
"BIJNUSS" - GANGARAM (local bumpkin, fisherman) vs THREE MEN (qualifications too long to list)
Before the start of our boating activities, we decided to meet Gangaram face to face in a time honoured tradition of "Haggling" (on the price of the boatride). As a true Indian I cannot assimilate an item before expending a few hours negotiating on its price.. Anyways it started -
Gangaram: Rs 200.
Three Men: What!!! Rs 200 for hauling 200 kgs across miles of placid water?? Too expensive! Is this daylight robbery?? (It was daylight by the way)
Gangaram: So you tell me..
Three Men: Last offer... Rs 100.
Gangaram: Just because Im built like Arnold Sch... (Do you really expect me to spell it??) and like wearing tight tees ripped in appropriate places does not mean I have muscles between my ears.. No deal!!!
ThreeMen: OK fine!! Here is the carrot.. If you show us "Rohit pakshi" (flamingos) then you get Rs. 200 else you get just the meagre 100 bucks.
(We were internally patting ourselves on our backs for having outsmarted this village bumpkin to get a win out of the deal in either case.. Job well done.. or was it??? Time would tell.. )
Gangaram: (without betraying any emotion) Fine!! You drive a hard bargain.. I will take the offer..And so we set out to end our eventful day with at least some snaps of the elusive rohit pakshi.. As we got nearer to the targeted spot.. I could actually visualize those documentaries on Discovery showing the millions of flamingos foraging in the water, and then flying in breathtaking unison... Oh!! Nat Geo here I come.. Anyways as the view clears and we hold our breathe for the breathtaking reveal, what do we see...
One million ?? One thousand?? One hundred?? ONE???? WTF!!!!
One lousy flamingo??? what happened to all those theories of flamingos being social and everything.. ?? And it wasn't even fully pink!!!
And to top it, we had to face our grinning boatman eagerly anticipating his extra hundred for completing his end of the bargain..
So to summarize, tented on a lone island, got photographed while at it, mud bath, baked in the sun and as the icing.. hoodwinked by a tee shirt clad local Arnold.. Can life be any more unfair!!!
BIDDING FOND ADIEU
Anyways all those ppl who believe that the glass is half full should read this post!!! After being totally beat in the days activities we decided to call it a day... BG was already running the Russian Roulette with his better half for leaving her for the call of the wild... that too on a weekend.. And every extra moment he spent here would bring that one full chamber painfully closer.. So to save him, and also to stop the onslaught of the local veneer we decided to head back to Pune.. On our way we did however have one good event.. A lucky stop at Kawadi... Another local bird watching spot 20 kms out of Pune.. This time nature was on our side and we did get quite a few good snaps.. But all those are reserved for another post...
Ppl might wonder as to why am I doing this satirical dance on the grave of our trip..!! Does the word "shame" have no relevance to me..?? Well to tell you the truth it does.. But after reading this blog do you think that it would be fair to hide such an eventful day from the world and risk losing all the laughs that it inspires just for the sake of a few tears?? Food for though!!! eh?
