Wild Things

Parambikulam is a 285 sq kilometer wildlife reserve to the north of Kerala. And I had the privilege of spending my weekend there.

Tourists avoid this wildlife haven like a plague during the monsoons. What with leeches, mosquitoes, slush, unstable terrain, snakes, leaky roofs and perpetual rains. All the more reasons for me to go. I like taking vacations which you need vacations to recover from. And I got exactly what I bargained for.

Parambikulam is a village of exactly 6 thached houses. To explain how remote it really is, let me tell you about my conversation with a local. I asked him if there was a telephone booth nearby. He pointed to a little thached hut which doubles up as a house and a restaurant, and assured me that indeed an instrument of that nature was to be found there. However upon further questioning, it was revealed to me that it doesn't have STD facilities. Which means you can only dial locally, i.e. the only other phone in the next village, some 10 kilometers away.

Anyway, after rowing for an hour (No motorboats allowed as they disturb the wildlife) across a crocodile infested lake, we reached our place of residence. The 'Bungalow' as it turned out, was nothing but a single, large room with a row of indigenously made bamboo beds with a thatch base. The procurement of two local chickens for the price of Rs. 300 each (broiler is 100 a kg) was to be our dinner for the night. Since I had prior experience with hunting, the job of killing and skinning the chickens fell to me. A dangerous endeavour since wild sloth bears lurk around the premises, and the smell of blood is sure to attract one.

Dinner cooked, leeches pulled off and wounds tended to, we pulled out our sleeping bags and lay awake, taking in the sounds of the jungle. Each time we heard a snort or a call in the distance, we'd jump up and shine our toorches, to no avail, into the inky blackness of the jungle. Oh! did I mention that there was no electricity there? Well there wasn't.

The next morning, saw us setting off to spot animals and birds. Immediately, we spied on the far bank, a herd of Bisons. Rowing as quietly as we could, (Which is about as quietly as a bull in a china shop), we crept up to the other bank. Thankfully, we were downwind to the herd and were able to skirt over a small hill untill we were almost over them. Just as we stood there, cameras ready, focusing on the heard, someone stepped on a stick. The resulting crack sent the herd into the jungle at a trot. Thankfully, Bisons are demure creatures and don't often attack or we'd been toast.

That day we saw heards of Cheetals (Spotted deer), Sambars (Especially one male with an impressive set of antelers.), and some more Bisons. We also managed to spot a number of birds like the River Tern, The crested snake eagle, The great hornbill, Little owlet, the Greater Raquet-tailed Drongo. The most cherished spotting was that of the Malabar Whistling Thrush, also called the 'Whistling schoolboy' for it's lazy, whistling call.

But the most memorable encounter was with a herd of wild elephants. It was around 12 in the night and we'd set off to spot animals from our SUV. Along with us was a guide who it is necessary to take along as they know the animals and where they are to be found. Just as we aproached a bend in the road, we heard a trumpet call of a tusker. Screeching to a halt at the bend, we were in awe of what we saw. A parade of elephants, not more than 10 meters away. Silently the guide, grabbed the driver by the arm and motioned for us to slowly back off. As we did, we saw a tusker step forward as if to warn us about our proximity. Even the guide was a little rattled by the unexpected encounter. So, nervously from a distance, we watched with our searchlight, the herd move on. We watced in awe as one elephant wrapped its trunk around a bunch of tall thick bamboo plants and effortlessly pull them out of the ground. These bamboos must have been at least 10 - 13 meters tall and about a foot across and would take more than a bulldozer to raze.

And so we left Parambikulam the next day a little humbled, and a little wiser. Three days of solitude and hardships had enobled us like no three decades in a city could. We promised to come back next season. And we intend to.