Dreams come true: Mangaliyawas

I saw a very happy face…. It asked me, ‘Have your dreams ever come true?’

‘err….’ I said not knowing where this was leading.

‘You should visit the Kalpavriksh at Mangaliyawas and make a wish, it will come true…100%!’ guaranteed the face

How, where ????? when I wanted all the details so I hung on asking polite questions to the face without letting on  that I had fallen hook, line and sinker.

We were at that time at Nasirabad.

Did you just say where is Nasirabad?

It’s close to Ajmer, about 30 minutes drive, 21km. It’s a laid back town still living in an un-cluttered world with minimum needs. The best thing about Nasirabad is the Kachora, …yes…KachoRA, that you get there. It’s big in size, almost the size of a rumali roti, filled with spicy dal or onion mixture. When it is made, at precisely 7.30 in the morning, the aroma wafts through the market (and the surrounding area) and beckons you… entices you… to just buy it. Your mouth WILL water and the first bite WILL take you to heaven!

So back to ‘how to make dreams come true’

I collected all this knowledge of the whereabouts of this kalpavriksh and decided to head there immediately. Why delay more?

There were two ways to reach Magaliyawas either by taking the highway which would mean going to Ajmer first and then catching the NH8. From Ajmer it’s approximately 25km. Or take a short cut directly to Magaliyawas. I opted for the latter of course! since immediately means without delay. 

The road turned out to be terrible and I started wondering whether I had made a hasty decision.  Was the face truthful? 

After a back-breaking 45 minutes the road joined the NH8 and I was back on track… with my enthusiasm too. It was a true face. 

From the national highway towards Udaipur I took a right and there it was the entrance to the village ‘Mangaliyawas’.  I could feel the serenity and my laden anticipation. As if right then and there if I wished for something and bang it would be there! 

I entered the temple premises; there were these two massive trees, each was dressed in stings of red thread all around. Nobody else was there. I looked at the first tree. Do I just stand here and make my wish?

My mind which had initially been very clear as to what I wanted now balked and changed tracks. What I thought was the most important wish of mine became nothing. My kids, my husband, my parents ..family…everybody’s wishes and aspirations and requirements came up in my mind. A very generic wish which would be true for all ..took shape…. I was confused….the magic I had come seeking was dissolving at a rapid pace. I stopped it then and there and asked myself what is my greatest and most pending wish. What is it that I want more than anything else in this world……what do I truly truly want? I just came up with a blank. After some coerced thinking I came up with many many different things I wanted but couldn’t come up with that one thing that I really wanted. How strange....

I saw a panditji approach me. 

‘Are you coming from Delhi’ He asked in Hindi

‘Haan’ I said a little too quickly, well I didn’t want to disclose from where I was coming to a complete stranger!! And I am basically from Delhi, so it was the truth right?.

‘Indiraji had also come here long back’ he said looking at my face for some… I don’t know what recognition?! ‘Now BJP is in satta……do you support BJP?’ he asked

‘urr….’  I looked on stoically 

He guided me to the first tree and pointed at it and said ‘This is nar tree, male tree’

And then took me to the other one and said ‘this is nari tree, both are Kalpavriksh and they emerged when the churning of ocean of milk happened. Do you know about it?’ He asked

I half nodded.

His voice transformed to a more serious and story-telling tone. ‘Once long long back.. ancient period..’ he stopped and added ‘It is written in puranas…..A sage called Durvasa got very angry at ‘Indra’ - the king of Gods and cursed all the gods. The gods started losing their power and strength and the ‘asuras’ – The demons started creating havoc. The gods approached ‘Vishnu’- The preserver. Vishu advised that all gods should drink the ‘nectar of immortality’ and to get that the ocean had to churned. During this  churning of ocean ‘Samudra manthan’ many useful things came out.' 

‘Among the things that came out during the ‘samudhra manthan’ …. were these two trees, kalpavriksh. They were located somewhere else but when there was a massive flood the trees got uprooted and landed here.’ He continued

‘Do you see that?’ He pointed at some very interesting depressions and folds on the trunk, ‘that’s Yoni’ and he explained further ‘In ancient Indian text ‘Yoni’ (Vagina or womb) is the representation of the creative force of life.’

‘This tree produces one fruit in many years. Last year we got a fruit, women who can’t bear children just need to have a little bit of this fruit. And they will bear children immediately.’ He added

‘Whatever you want ..ask… and when it comes true, come back here and do a pooja ok?’ he asked 

I nodded, the narration had transported me to ancient Indian times, did all this happen? Were earlier times filled with mysticism and magic? Have people imagined all this and passed it on sprinkled with spice and added mystery? How much of it is a true account and how much of it is the result of a creative mind, skillful narration.. And what about the facts that have been lost in translation so to say……

‘May your wish come true’ He blessed thinking that I was asking for something really big.

I came back in 'time' and hastily wished for ………. ‘general happiness for the entire world’ (darn!)

A contended me headed back and who did I run into but a dear friend.

‘You look so happy, where are you coming from?’ she asked

‘Have your dreams ever come true? My Happy face asked….

"Maharaj aa rahe hain Maharaj!"

A small boy ran on the road shouting “Maharaj aa rahe hain, Maharaj!” at the top of his voice, behind him several little ones were running at a speed that could put our Olympic sprinters to shame. I looked eagerly in the direction from which these kids had come.  Common sense went out of the window and I stood hoping to see a procession of people clad in elegant, zaridaar, royal regalia …. decked up in gold. Rolling drums and warning calls. The Maharaj himself would be on a magnificent horse looking on at his ‘Praja’ throwing gold and silver coins.   

For a while nothing happened. All I saw was a strangely empty road devoid of the usual hustle bustle of the evening, children cycling, pet dogs walking their owners and the ever yapping group of maids. Curiosity got the better of me and I opened my gate and walked to a point from where I could see the colony gate. I still couldn’t hear the drums, what I did hear was an unusual sounding horn. Maharaj was definitely coming in a strange vehicle. And then I heard it again! It was a trumpet! ..No..no not the brass musical instrument with a brilliant tone ( what are you thinking?!!) …it was a trumpet  as in ‘cry of an elephant.’ And I heard it again…gosh! Maharaj was coming on an elephant

I stood there and waited with anticipation. Hundreds of years ago people would have waited like this for a glimpse of their Raja, the King of their land, revered, and respected, given the status of god, his principles to be followed, O! the righteous King. Jai ho! Jai ho!  Flashes of pictures from the Amar Chitra Kathas came alive in my mind. However, in entered a lone elephant… trumpeting aloud (without the maharaja). It shook its head; the long white tusk glistened and it trumpeted again. Its trunk then stayed at the top and it smelled the air left and right and then in front. With another head shake it decided to forge ahead straight towards me. For an elephant so huge and heavy it trotted surprisingly lightly on its trunk like legs.  Trunk up, tail straight and parallel to the road, dashing on, it was a sight to be seen.

I was rooted to the spot, unable to move I looked enthralled with disbelief. I had heard of stories of elephants entering the colony but never imagined it would do so from the main gate. All around the colony there was thick vegetation and undergrowth. Layers of barbed wires existed supposedly to safe guard us from such invasions. It was now only a few feet away, ears flapping, head shaking,  it was majestic and I felt tiny, so irrelevant, and no match. Trample me! I don’t deserve to exist in your land. This is your territory, I have invaded it and occupied it and ousted you oh! Glorious One.

When I looked at the elephant all powerful and so strong, I had revelation of sorts for humans, so small and incomparable we have defeated all other species, overpowered them with our mighty intelligence, brain power. We piddly Homo sapiens.  The meaning of Homo sapiens learnt while studying history? biology? some 25 years ago made more sense at this moment: The only surviving hominid; species to which modern man belongs; bipedal primate having language and ability to make and use complex tools; brain volume at least 1400 cc. Black or white, female or male, any caste or creed, it doesn’t matter, we are the species which has transformed all odds and conquered all living things. We have the power to occupy all the space, we have the greed to want more space after occupying all space.

This was no time for contemplation but for survival! One more second and I would be mashed potatoes under its legs. Then it would toss me, gore me with its tusks and fling me into the bushes…..dare you stand on my path…

I came to my senses and rushed into my cage of bricks and cement. One bang and the elephant could break the wall. One bang and we could lose everything we had bought over our lifetime of living and travel. One bang and it could all be over.

But it did nothing of the sort and went for the jackfruit and banana trees in our garden. Couple of more elephants joined in and had a party. The herd knew exactly where to go, which garden to invade and which route to take. 

It left... with many broken fences but luckily no broken bones in its wake.

Gateway to the NE

We reached our new location, somewhere in the North East, sometime in the afternoon.  After dumping the bags, I stood at our entrance and looked out. I could see beyond the low boundary wall a vast stretch of barren land dotted with few shrubs and bushes, on my right and left there were a couple of guest rooms and  beyond  them more barren land. Nobody was around, the sun glinted fiercely, and quite suddenly I felt as if I was the only one on earth. Loneliness engulfed and swallowed me.  I felt a sense of… What the hell?.. Where am I?, Where are the birds, the stray dogs, the stray and ever available cows? There was a panic desperation…a need to ‘DO SOMETHING’!

I quickly emptied the bags and put everything  in the cupboards. Then I picked my mobile and dialed a number only to hear a female voice say , ‘this facility is not available’. Disgusting! At least she could have said what was available … by the looks of it…it seems ‘nothing’ was easily available here. Oh! That’s so true in life too nothing is easily available, whichever way you think. I slept off to avoid any more philosophical thoughts. 

Evening brought in some cars, people and dogs, I had panicked unnecessarily. Then it started raining. It poured and poured. And I was back to… What the hell?.. Where am I? After dinner I settled down and suddenly I heard a howl. A jackal! There was a reply howl, JackalS!! The din of the night began; it seemed there was a jungle surrounding me especially near my doors and windows.  All sorts of sound made itself heard. Was that an elephant? With a sigh I prepared myself for a sleepless philosophical night. 

I did fall asleep. 

Morning I woke up with a start and rushed to the window. I drew the curtains a little and peered outside to see what?  a jungle, maybe with  many wild animals roaming freely. Unfortunately no! I saw a VERY bright day and long stretches of barren land. I looked at my watch and it was just 5am.

Welcome to the East.

somedate/somemonth/someyear

It’s about a month since we moved into this quaint (old fashioned) bungalow. It is a house so located that you can see people coming and going from three sides of the house through various doors and windows. Likewise, travellers on foot and cycles can carry on their journey with some entertainment along the way by peering into our house. All free, Of course!

Talking about entertainment, I am entertained by hordes of monkeys in the colony. There are more monkeys than people. It’s we who are in cages. (Literally and mentally, another philosophy) They come in batches, walk on the roads, jump on the roofs, pull out plants and flowers, toddle on telephone wires and cables balancing and hanging if required.  Their 'Games time' is three in the afternoon when I am trying to take a nap. After a round of ‘Catch Me If You Can’ they start jumping violently on our roof and the tinned-roof shed; they love the sound of the tin. The competition to make the noisiest jump continues all afternoon. 

Docile Ones.. Posing

On one such afternoon I saw many monkeys jumping and hanging on our clotheslines. This was the very wild and rogue batch. One was hanging deftly on the mouth of a tap trying to suck the water out. Another was jumping on the rod that links up with the dish antenna. The little ones were pulling out grass and running around joyfully. The mothers were looking out for any sign of danger and the fathers (I think ;-) ) were chasing each other and creating a ruckus..

My attention was drawn to a small baby. It was sitting by itself in the shade on the clothes. A slight breeze was blowing my dupatta on its upturned face. It loved the feeling of the hanging dupatta on its face. As soon as the breeze stopped the baby monkey looked away, the moment the breeze started it turned towards the dupatta and lifted its face up expectantly for the soft caress. I watched this with mixed emotions. It was a delightful sight but I was also worried about my dupatta.  Finally my worry for my dupatta was put to rest when a larger monkey yanked it out of the clothesline, tearing it in the process, and rushed with its possession up a tree. All the other monkeys wanted their share and followed suit. A frenzied action left my tattered dupatta hanging on one of top branches of the tree for days.

Well, people hoist their flags on mountain tops. I am getting there…almost!

Chronicles of Andaman V

Quite by accident, I discovered this most beautiful moth in the world. I was totally awestruck. I ran to get my mobile afraid that it would disappear whilst I am gone. But, that didn’t happen; it was waiting patiently and I clicked. It continued to pose while I tried every angle to capture its beauty. I was just not satisfied, I stopped and stared. It was beautiful alright, but... how was I to know that it was magical as well?

‘Stare all you want at my battle torn wings.’ It said

And a vision formed right above it, inviting and beckoning. I looked right and left and then dove right into the vision.

It was there in all its glory; complete and unblemished. It flitted around... gently ...stopping here, stopping there unable to decide. Restless it flew again to another source and finally grabbed an insect and sucked its juice and turned it around; toying and enjoying its catch. As it savoured, contentment filled and it felt drowsy and settled for a siesta at the same spot. It was a good spot for this is where it was satiated and fulfilled.   

A juvenile snake was watching this whole affair with interest. Still, and looking for a chance, it watched the moth and thought, such beauty yet so dumb.

‘Eat, eat all you want for this is your last supper,’ said the snake.

The moth's wings quivered, in bliss, drunken on satisfaction. It contemplated moving up to a secure location.

‘Just a minute later,’ resolved the moth.

The snake slithered closer and took one last look at its magnificent and juicy snack. Striking the prey at the right moment was crucial to perfect execution. It is the shock, surprise, and fear that sends the juices spurting through the body, shooting it through every little vein of the prey - making it tastier.

At the chosen moment it lurched springing from its well hidden berth.

At the same chosen moment the moth chose to move up.

Shock, surprise and fear sent juices squirting through its body; it wrapped its wing around its body and slipped from the poised fang of the snake. The snaked struggled grabbing at anything and everything positioning its fang. It twisted tight feeling the prey slip. The moth rolled away from the fang and fell through the open mouth of the snake into its stomach.

‘No! I want to bite first and relish you’ thought the snake as it felt the moth slip into the tunnel of its body. Disgusted the snake moved its muscles and pushed the moth deeper and further. The moth gripped at inner lining of the pulsating muscles and crept upwards choking the throat of the snake, forcing it to open its mouth. The snake regurgitated and got its fang out, yet again, with pleasure. However, the moth rolled and spread its mutilated wings and flew out and away from the snake. The snake looked at it with disbelief. It was now perched so high; the winner of the duel.

The moth that entered the snake’s stomach and remained alive to tell the tale , bore the medal on the tip of its wings. It showed the hood of a snake.

Snake Faced Moth

Chronicles of Andaman IV

The turtle called Admin stirred, stretched its legs and peeked out from underneath its shell to take a ‘look around’. It was shocked...where are the familiar buildings? where are my Europeans friends? what has happened to my Island? Is this Ross Island or have I floated elsewhere? It opened its eyes wide and saw the remnants of old building, broken walls, heaps of rubble, dilapidated and wasted. The splendor, the opulence, the grandeur all gone!

Close by the thick, surface root of a Rain tree saw Admin stir. It hated anything that moved, it wanted to capture it, entangle it in its vicious grip and subdue it. This Island is mine and only mine! I will spread my web, I will embalm it within me again. But that was not to be .......for Admin after nearly 30 years of slumber was wide awake and handed over Ross to the Indian Navy (Year 1979)....

When Admin woke up!

I (this is me, indoo!) must have taken umpteen number of pictures of Ross Island. Tell me am I to be blamed?

Imagine you are on a boat at the Aberdeen Jetty, Port Blair and what you see ahead is Ross Island. Half an hour later you reach Ross

 

Ross from Aberdeen Jetty

Ross Island was the administrative headquarters of the British while the cellular jail was being constructed in Port Blair Island. With the beginning of the uprising in 1857 the British found it difficult to deal with the rebels and wanted them out of sight and contact. The idea of forming a penal settlement in the wild Andaman Islands took birth.

On 10^th March 1858 an experienced jail superintendent Dr. James Patterson Walker arrived at Ross with 773 freedom fighters, an Indian overseer, 50 naval guards and 2 doctors. The 773 freedom fighters were ‘offloaded’ in the wild jungles of Ross and were made to clear it, build accommodation for them while they relaxed and lived on-board the ship.

Soon structures were up - the jail superintendent’s bungalow (Government House), Anglican Church, Power house, houses for Officers, barracks for British soldiers, Library, Bakery, Store house, separate club houses for senior officers and sub ordinates with swimming pool and tennis court and some accommodations even for the British employed Indians. Once the work was done, the workers were moved to Viper Island. The gallows awaited them.

Here are some old pictures

Bazaar on Ross Island - 1880

Abandoned Bakery

          

Can you see people swimming?

In 1942, the Japanese army arrived at Ross and the English had to abandon it, some were taken as prisoners and some were executed. Ross was ravaged again this time by the Japanese, they built bunkers and under ground tunnels and guess who did all the work? The Japanese Admiral lived at the Government house and ruled. At the end of World War II they surrendered and Ross, once again, belonged to the British but they never returned.

A tired, worn down and war torn Ross was slowly forgotten. Nature to its delight took over, several trees and branches started creeping and crawling to take their possession back. Earthquakes rocked, the sea ravaged around it and some weak, uncared-for buildings fell, giving Ross the haunted look.

Admin didn't realize that the memories of our history were being erased and all the painstaking hard-work, of our freedom fighters, was disappearing......... it was fast asleep.

I am in-charge

Steeple of the Church

Behind the Bakery

As the board says Power House

Officers Quarters

Navy took it upon itself to restore the buildings and maintain the Island when it was handed over in 1979. Our history is kept alive by them to this day.

This will greet you when you get off the boat

                                                                                         

Partly restored officers quarters

The restored bakery

Remember the swimming pool from above

The beauty of Ross is a potpourri of roots, branches, trees, buildings, rubble, stairs leading nowhere, tunnels and bunkers.  

Today many people visit Ross to hear the only guide Anuradha Rao talk about Ross in Hindi and smattering of English. She is the fourth generation of her family to be associated with Ross. She doubles up as a caretaker of the birds, animals and fishes of the Island. Here are some more pics

Anuradha in Action
(Picture posted with permission)

Anuradha's dear deers

So what do you think, am I to be blamed?