Confessions of a gym addict

(c) www.morguefile.com

I was a dabbler…
Sometimes serendipity turns into a life-changer. I was a cent per cent bookworm with no traces of liking for sports. The only game I liked was football and I was always offered a defender’s role – the reason being my stubbornness to stop the strikers. I ended up hitting them hard on their insteps, shins and calves – and left no chances to bring them down. After few matches even the defender’s role became coveted for me. Everybody was scared of my fouls.

I even tried gymnastics and karate. After few spells of somersaults, my left hand got caught in a stool and I was banned to attend gymnastics classes. Same happened with karate. I was self-teaching karate with a handbook published by Indian Book House. I punched on everything, be it a rice bag, a wall that came into my sight, or a mound of sand. As my parents noticed the knuckles, the handbook and self-learning both had to be stalled.

While my friends were doing the pull-ups and push-ups, and pumping the dumbbells, I used to sit in a corner and read books – the Famous Five, Secret Seven, and the Hardy Boys series. It was a complete no-no to sports for me.

This is how I ended up in gym
Then I landed up in India for my Bachelors. One day doing the chin-ups, I fell down and hit my head hard on the cemented floor. Suddenly, the lights went off and it was a complete darkness for me. I experienced what it feels like while dying. I opened my eyes as my friends from the dormitory sprinkled water over my face.

It resulted into a deep cut on my head. They took me to the college dispensary and after first aid I was again on my toes – live and kicking. I was recommended to go for a CT scan. I was reluctant – I didn’t want my parents to know how it happened. So I avoided it in spite of fears of having blood clots in my brain.

The fear amplified as I discovered that the whole world seemed to revolve as and when I knelt to pick anything lying on the floor. I had no options – I took to gym with the faint hope that I will cure myself of this malady. I started pumping iron, eating boiled eggs, drinking packets of milk, slurping down glasses of banana shake, and sleeping like the dead.

…And I started loving gym
As the days passed, I could feel the difference. Earlier the whole hall seemed to hover over me as I lifted heavy weights while doing decline bench press. Slowly the hovering turned to light shaking and after few months it was normal. Nothing hovered or shook when I knelt. I thought – the exercise helped set the brain in the skull which had to bear a huge shock during the fall.

Then I noticed another difference. My biceps bulged and I could notice the triceps while brushing every morning. My chest inflated and I could feel the power in my hands. Then after few months I could feel the set of abs appearing on my once flat stomach. It was a huge achievement for me.      

The desire for more muscles controlled my desire to consume limitless alcohol with my buddies. As the six packs started showing, I got more and more addicted to gymming.

Then I got stuck to gymming
Then came the Eureka moment – I found the reason to stick to gymming. It’s an interesting anecdote.

I was in the third year of my Bachelors of Engineering and ragging was rampant in the campus. However, I had never ragged a junior.

One day we were returning to our hostel for lunch. It was 1 pm and the sun was shining to its might. The distance between the lecture hall and hostel was almost 15 minutes’ walk. As we were passing by the college gymnasium, we saw a group of first year students walking in a straight line. Some senior students might have told them to do so – they had formed a chain and each was holding the former’s shoulder.

I was annoyed with the teacher who had made us wait for 20 minutes more than the actual period. Going to hostel and coming back to lecture hall needed at least half an hour. We barely had 10 minutes to gulp the lunch. Seeing the first year guys, one of my friends asked me to give some extra work to them. In the fit of anger, I kicked a wild fruit and asked a guy to fetch it. He ran in the hot sand to fetch the fruit and was literally crying when he brought it to us. Then again one of my friends kicked it and asked another first year student to bring it back to us. I felt bad about it but some of my friends were laughing and enjoying.

In the evening, as usual, I returned from college and went to gym. I wasn’t feeling like pumping iron that day. My sixth sense hinted that something bad was coming my way. And it happened. As I returned from the gym, a white piece of paper was gummed to my door and it read, “Report to the Proctor at 6.00 PM”.

I was in a panic. I ran to my friends without even opening the doors. My friends knew the consequences – it had two meaning – either some disciplinary action would be taken against me or in the worst case scenario, I was going to be rusticated. My friend Atul Dev Saraf also had same sort of notice glued to his doors. He too was worried. Now we were two, so our problems halved. He was consoling me and I was sympathising him.

We made a deal – I would report first and he would follow me. With heavy hearts we headed for the staff quarters. Atul waited on the way and I reached the Proctor’s residence on stated time. With thumping heart I pushed the door-bell. To my surprise, the guy opening the door was my partner in the gym. To my good luck the Proctor was on his way to home and my friend was his son.

I narrated the story to him. As we were chatting in the drawing room, the Proctor arrived. I introduced myself and explained why I was there. He then asked me to sit down and told why I was summoned. Two first year students had lodged a complaint with the anti-ragging squad and they had identified Atul and me from the student profiles. It was obvious – they knew we were third year students of Chemical Engineering and my face was the most recognisable being a Mongoloid.

My friend came to my rescue. He told about our partnership in the gym and praised my calm attitude. The Proctor also recognised me – he had taught Physics in the first year and I was one of the good guys. This connection saved me. I told the truth – it was not a ragging as such. I was spared with an admonition. There should be no complaints against me in the coming days. I sighed with relief and thanked my dear friend and my favourite gym. They had rescued me from being suspended. Atul too followed my footsteps and he too was spared.

After this incident I became a loyal follower of gymming.

Once a gymmer always a gymmer
These days, like my friends, I too have lots of responsibilities – home, a sweet wife and a cute little daughter. Then there’s my job and my network of friends and relatives. I snatch away that one hour, at least three times a week, and pump the iron.

I made many friends in gyms in India and Nepal. My heartfelt thanks to Amar Deep Singh in Jaipur; Prashant Anand, Ashutosh Jaiswal, Kaiser Wani, Arshur Rahman and Balbir Singh in Delhi; Som Timilsina, Paras Shrestha, Rabindra  Karki and Deependra in Kathmandu; and Keshav Karki in Surkhet for keeping up with me.

It’s once a gymmer always a gymmer.

Do you have it in you?

Follow these sites to start gymming.

http://www.muscleandfitness.com

http://www.bodybuilding.com

http://www.musclemag.com

http://www.getbig.com

http://www.menshealth.com/fitness
 

कैदी आस्थाको

हैन,
आज किन ताल्चा मारेछन् ?
यो च्यानल गेट
किन खोल्दैनन् ?
त्यो भुस्याहा कुकुर
कुरिरहेछ खान प्रसाद ,
अनि कुरिरहेछु म
त्यसको जिब्रोको न्यानो स्पर्श ।

ती साना नानीहरु
आज किन लुकामारी खेल्दैनन् ?
किन आउँदैनन्
पैसा बटुल्न ?
पर्खिबसेकोछु म
तिनीहरुको पवित्र प्रेम
र आशरहित श्रद्धा ।

यो सानो छुचुन्द्रो चाहिं
मसँगै बसेको छ ,
घरिघरि मलाई काउकुती लगाउँदैछ
र प्रफुल्ल भई चारैतिर दगुर्दैछ ,
मख्ख छ आज ऊ
मसँग एक्लै दिन बिताउन पाएकोमा ।

संधै उकुसमुकुस गराउने अबिर
अनुहारै ढाक्ने टीका
अनि मेरा वरिपरि छरिएर,
मलाई मेरै कोठामा पराई भान गराउने
ती पुष्प गुच्छाहरु
आज सबै गायब छन् ।

मलाई पोलिरहने दियोका बत्ती
निसास्सिने गरी
धुँवाको मुस्लो फ्याक्ने
ती धूपका झुप्पा
अनि मेरा कान फुटुञ्जेल
बज्ने घण्टहरु 
आज सबै निश्तब्ध छन् ।

लामबद्ध ओइरिने
मेरा कथित भक्तजनहरु
आज सब सत्याग्रहमा बसेकाछन्
मेरो अमूक दर्शक भई बस्ने बानीबिरुद्ध
आज सब आन्दोलित छन्
अनि मलाई कैदी बनाई आस्थाको
आज नेपाल बन्द गरेकाछन् ।
  
(१७ अषाढ २०७०, सुर्खेत)
Republished from http://kchhakhabar.com 

चिप्लेकिरा र चित्रगुप्त

(c) www.morguefile.com

हे मनुवा !
आफ्ना विजीगिषालाई लगाम दे
निमेष भरमा चन्द्र छुने
ती महत्वाकांक्षालाई तिलाञ्जली दे
कर्म गर
तर फलको आश नगर
सुस्त सुस्त आफ्नो लक्ष्यतर्फ बढ
अनि कदापि पछि नहट
आफ्नो मार्ग पहिल्याई
अनन्ततर्फ लम्कि
चिप्लेकिरा झै हताश नभई
आफ्नो गन्तव्यतर्फ ।

यी मधुर वाणीलाई
पछ्याउँदा पछ्याउँदै
एक जुग बितेछ
अनि चित्रगुप्तको वास्ता नगरी
चट्याङ्ग झै गर्जिनेहरु
चम्किरहेछन् ,
अनन्तता थपिरहेछन्
आफ्ना क्षणभंगुरतामा ।

ती फिरन्तेहरु
नीति संहारकहरु
व्यस्त छन्
लुट्न अस्मिता
अनि
न्यायद्वारको चिराबाट
किंकर्तव्यविमुढ भई
चियाउँदैछन् चित्रगुप्त ।

अब त विजीगिषा
जिजीविषामा परिणत भएझै लाग्दछ
अनि अन्तर्मन कहांलिदै
उच्चारण गर्दैछ
फगत गाँस, बास, कपास ।
तर,
हारेको छैन अझ विश्वास
सत्यको दिन त पक्कै फिर्लान नि
अनि मिहिनेतका ती डोबहरु
अवश्य देख्लान्
ती अदृश्य न्यायमूर्तिले
भन्दै,
निरन्तर अघि बढ्दैछ
यो चिप्लेकिरो ।

(८ जेष्ठ २०७०, सुर्खेत)

Published in www.nepalipost.com

A day in the life of a goat

“Every dog has his day.”

That’s what we have heard since our kindergarten. And this is what I say whenever my near and dear ones are in distress. However, when I saw 23 goats being hauled into the dark chambers of a bus, I was damn sure those poor creatures never had had their days.

More than 10 thousand goats end up being slaughtered every day in Nepal to satisfy the greedy gluttons.  According to a Heifer International study, Nepal has a goat population of 9.19 million and the total demand of goat meat in the country is about 70,307 MT. Out of the total current supply, 8,566 MT is imported and 52,809 MT (86%) is supplied from domestic production. Still, there is a gap of 8,932 MT equalling 565,300 additional goats annually (with an average carcass weight of 15.8 kg /goat).  

I encountered the cruel goat transportation while I was on my way to Kathmandu from Surkhet in a night bus. The goats were being ferried from Chhinchu, a small town in the mid-western Nepal, to Kathmandu, the capital city.

I left Surkhet at 4.30 pm. After driving for almost an hour drive the bus screeched to a halt at Chhinchu and it was time for snacks and a bio-break. Getting off the bus, I bought some oranges. While I was busy peeling off an orange, the bus headed to a nearby petrol pump. 

Then the next sight was horrendous. Three men were hauling goats inside a tiny compartment made under the bus. The goats, tagged on their horns, were bleating with pain while the men were pulling them (the goats) by their ears. I was astonished to see them haul six goats in a small compartment at the back of the bus. There was enough space only for two goats.

The 20 minutes allocated for snacks elongated to an hour’s stop. To know about the goat trade, I cracked conversation with the jolly fellow, the conductor.

“These are one of the best goats in the region,” said the boy in green shirt. “The big ones exceeding 30 Kgs in weight draw Rs 260 (1 USD = 90 Rs) per Kg and the ones below 30 Kgs fetch Rs 220 per Kg.”  He was giggling and helping the traders haul the goats into the bus.

The goats command the price as per their weight. The goat meat of the same goat is sold at Rs 650 in Kathmandu. The transportation costs Rs 280-300 per goat depending upon its weight.

While talking with them, I was clicking the pictures with my Samsung cellphone. The boy in green got closer to me. He too had a Samsung set and he wanted a favour from me. He urged to take his picture with a goat and send it via Bluetooth to his mobile. 

He posed riding a goat and I didn’t miss the moment to get further information from him. I transferred the photo to his set and waited for the right moment to get details of the goat trade from him. 

I counted the goats being thrown inside the dark chambers under the bus. All in all they adjusted 23 goats in the bus. There was no empty space, enough not even for a handful of grass. The transporters were like butchers. How can they even think of feeding the goats?

The goats were packed like sardines inside the space carved out between the four wheels of the bus and at the back of the bus. From outside it seemed nothing unusual. There was no trace of more than a score of goats being loaded in the bus. The goats bleated for few minutes and then everything was calm. The bus continued its journey to Kathmandu.

The conductor cracked jokes and entertained the passengers on the way. “I pray the Lord to keep the goats mum while passing by the police check-posts,” he joked. “Otherwise I would need to cough up few hundreds at each check-post.”

On enquiring about the legal aspects, he showed me a permission letter from the District Livestock Services Office (DLSO). The letter stated the duration between which the goats could be transported to Kathmandu for meat purposes and the goats were free of any communicable diseases. The quantity mentioned in the letter was 20 but the number of goats loaded was 23. So, he used to be extra careful while dealing with the policemen at the check-posts.

I could imagine the pain and trauma the goats were going through. Still they remained silent during the journey, bleating only at some big jolts. They had adapted well to the situation. It might be the warmth of the companionship that was keeping them intact. Outside it was cold though not freezing.

After a strenuous ride of 15 hours, we reached Kathmandu. I was eager to see the plight of the goats. As the bus stopped, a white TATA Ace mini-truck parked parallel to the bus and two young boys started pulling out the goats from the bus.

The goats were lifeless; the bus stunk of goat urine and droppings. Lifting a goat weighing 50 Kgs and throwing it to the mini-truck was a child’s play for the boys. They were used to it.

Finally, the mini-truck was full with the bleating goats. It headed towards the butcher’s. It was the goats’ last day in this world. Alas, they hadn’t had their day in their lifetime!         

The cruel goat transportation in pictures

 

 

Bayalkanda, the forgotten border pillar and the disappearing rhododendrons

A gust of cool wind whizzes past our ears. While the Surkhet Valley is perspiring in the summer heat, we are enjoying the breeze. We are standing at a point which is the passage of wind blowing from the mountain tops in the northern horizon down to the Surkhet Valley in the south.

Might be the place, where we are standing right now, got its name from the Nepali word “Bayal” which also connotes breeze. Bayalkanda is a few minutes’ walk from Gothikanda, the erstwhile headquarters of Surkhet.

Kapil, Om and Abhijit pose for a picture at the point that is the
passage of wind blowing from mountain tops to the Surkhet Valley.

Gothikanda – the erstwhile Surkhet headquarters
To reach Gothikanda, you have two options – either walk for 20 minutes from Chheda, a small stop-over in the Surkhet-Dailkeh road corridor, or hike for one and half hour from the hospital near Radio Nepal’s Regional Office in Birendranagar of Surkhet district. The hike takes you through a dense sal (Shorea robusta) forest, a steep hill and a pine (salla) forest. We once hiked to the top but this time we took the route passing through Chheda and Gothikanda.
 
The valley below Gothikanda was a dense forest and infested with mosquitoes and of course, the deadly malaria. My friend Om reminisces, “It used to be considered a sin to tread into the valley after sunset; the people residing in Gothikanda used to return by the evening to their nests.” “Only the Tharus used to stay in the malarial patches as they are considered to be immune to malaria.”

It was only after the spraying of DDT in the 1950s and promotion of the valley as regional headquarters by late king Birendra, the place got rechristened as Birendranagar. Hordes of people then started pouring in from the neighbouring hilly districts in search of fertile land and easier life.

Mesmerising Surkhet Valley and Kakrevihar
If you opt for a strenuous and tiring hike up the hill, reaching the hill-top is more satisfying. To repose and recline for delicious snacks and chilled drinks after the trek, a well-known restaurant “Chalise Cottage” is the best spot. We were tired after walking for almost an hour and a sumptuous snack of fried chicken and Wai Wai sandheko (a mixture of dry instant noodles, tomato, onion, chilly and puffed rice) was the perfect treat to our empty stomachs. Few more restaurants have mushroomed up in the area to cater to the once in a while hiking enthusiasts. 

As we walked westwards from the Chalise Cottage, we came across many scenic spots. If you look below, the Surkhet Valley looks like a tiny patch of settlement. The well-planned roads form a symmetrical patchwork. Luckily, the day was bright and the cumulus clouds above the valley made the scene mesmerising.

Kakrevihar, the famous archaeological site looks like an abandoned leveller (ledko in Native Nepali) attached to a plough. A leveller is used to level the field after ploughing. Om says, “The locals say that the King Sur forgot to collect the leveller after ploughing – later, the area turned into a dense forest.” Some describe Sur as a god while others say that he was a king. Another adage says that it got the name due to its shape. It is like the shape of a cucumber seed (Cucumber is called Kakro in Nepali).

If you look south-westwards, far in the horizon is Ranighat. Recently it has earned fame as the end point of rafting session that starts from Bheri River Bridge. It takes three and half hours to raft through the river section. (Read the piece http://yetaautaa.blogspot.com/2013/05/thrilling-bheri-raging-rapids-and.html for details of rafting in Bheri).

Nearby is the probable site for paragliding. The entrepreneur group that is running the rafting is planning to launch paragliding from this site soon in the future. Test flights were done during the second mid-west small and cottage industry fair held on 5-13 March 2013 in Surkhet. It will offer a variety to the paragliding enthusiasts who are now confined to the Pokhara environs, the only place in Nepal where one can enjoy paragliding.

Wandering souls and goat herders
A gravel road passes through the hills like a serpent connecting the villages around Bayalkanda. There is a steep hillock near the site selected for paragliding. “A bus carrying a marriage group (Janti in Nepali) was swept down the hill by a sudden landslide,” said Om who belongs to the place. “The dead souls still wander in the vicinity.”

While we were talking about ghosts and dead souls, small children were herding goats at the site nonchalantly. They were unaware of the incident and whistling popular folk songs. Goats from this part of Surkhet (Kunathari and surrounding area) are famous for their meat quality.

The forgotten border pillar
As we were enjoying the scenic panorama and cool breeze, we came across a huge stone pillar. It demarcated the earlier small kingdoms (There were 22-24 small kingdoms prior to annexation into a united Nepal).  The border stone still stands tall at Gadhi. It needs attention of the Archaeological Department. Further research and excavation must be planned to conserve the historical monument.

I remember a similar pillar being trampled down by a bulldozer near one of the Shiva temples in the south west of Birendranagar. It is sad to say that during the road expansion, the driver was smiling all the way for being successful in breaking the pillar into pieces. The locals didn’t even raise a whimper to conserve the historical pillar.

After few minutes’ walk from the forgotten pillar, we came across the remnants of an old fort. Whether it was a fort or an artillery, we could not decipher the difference. We felt sorry for the state of the monument. Only the base of the fort was standing intact. The stones were scattered in the area. Besides stones, nothing was left.

Tall tower, faltering network and the disappearing rhododendrons
Spending a reasonable amount of time in Gadhi and clicking pictures, we returned to Bayalkanda. On the way was a tall Nepal Telecom tower. However, in spite of having the tower nearby, the cellular network was miserably faulty. The reception is very bad and for a continuous and clear talk with your dear ones, you need to move from one place to another in search of the cellular network.  

We had a delicious lunch at the Chalise Cottage and while we were savouring the local chicken, a dozen couples arrived with bunches of rhododendrons in their hands. We then walked till we came to the spot in Chheda where we had parked our bikes. As we were having tea, we saw hordes of bikers and pillion riders all carrying rhododendrons in their hands.

Leaving Chheda for Surkhet Valley, we met many small groups of youngsters gossiping and loitering on the road with bunches of rhododendrons. It was getting dark but they were carelessly strolling towards their destinations. Buses jam-packed with passengers carrying rhododendrons in their hands, both inside and on their tops, passed by us. They were returning from Guranse in Dailekh district which is named after the abundant rhododendron jungles.    

I was wondering, how long the rhododendrons will last if the visitors keep on plundering the site of its precious adornment. However, one of my friends was saying that it was like fetching a pail of water from an ocean. I was murmuring, “It’s not a matter of just picking the flowers, they were lopping off the branches.”

“If the concerned authorities don’t take this issue seriously and we don’t stop destroying the jungles, the rhododendrons might disappear from Guranse.”  
 
Thanks to Om Prasad Acharya, Kapil Dev Gyawali and Abhijit Bhattacharya who made the journey unforgettable.
 

Thrilling Bheri, raging rapids and adventurous rafting

“Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting.”
- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

We had been waiting for our turn to raft in Bheri since long and when we got a call from the man who runs the business, we just jumped in. A group had cancelled the booking owing to the bad weather forecast and fearing the flash floods that might bring in violent rapids with it. Our team was ready to weather the waters of Bheri – be it calm or hostile.

Rafting in Bheri started recently and the waters are still uncharted. Out of the three options we chose the Bheri bridge – Ranighat section. It has more rapids and bends than the Mehelkuna – Ramghat section. The longer one spans over three days and ends at the Chisapani of Karnali River.

Nepal’s rivers are world famous for white-water rafting. Trishuli, Seti, Bhote Koshi, Kali Gandaki, Marsyandi, Sun Koshi, Arun, Karnali, and Tamor have already been acclaimed for the thrilling white-water and sandy beaches for camping. A group of entrepreneurs led by Sudarshan Shrestha has recently launched rafting in the Bheri River.

“After mid-May, the snow starts melting and the water level rises bringing in more rapids,” said the guide. Even it was his first expedition after brief showers in and around Surkhet. The usually clear water was muddy and we could feel the waves on the bank while inflating the raft. It has eight sections and we took turns to get our craft ready. One of my friends had suggested, “This is high time you come across flash floods, be prepared.”


Kapil inflating the raft

Only Madhu and I had been to rafting earlier and it was the first time for rest six. Even it was first for me in Bheri. The guide instructed, “Don’t panic, in case of emergency cling to the ropes tied around the raft.” With a crash course on basics of rafting and rescuing, we started our sail on the river.

Clinging to the ropes is the best way to stay safe during an emergency.

The first few bends and small waves were welcoming. We enjoyed the ups and downs on the water. The water was calm at a place and the guide said it was safe to swim. Few of us dived in the cool waters and started swimming along with the raft. It was refreshing though the water was dark and muddy. We practised pulling in our mates in the raft from the fast moving river.

 

Practise well before you leap into the river.

The giant devil catfish
As we were passing by, two fishermen called us to show their prized catch. We stopped by the sandy beach and took turns to hold the fish. It was a giant –nearly 3.5 feet long and weighed more than 40 Kgs.  

“It’s a mahseer,” said one of the fishermen. “If you wish, you can take the whole fish with you. The price – just Rs 350 per Kg.”

You can imagine the greed. We were ready to buy the whole fish. Then some of us didn’t buy in and we left the fish and the beach.

Holding the giant devil catfish wasn't an easy task.

I was still in doubts. It could not be a mahseer. It had sharp teeth and whiskers, and had no scales. I could sense, it was the giant devil catfish (Bagarius yarrelli) also called “goonch”. It is found in large rivers, including rivers with fast current and reaches up to 2 m (6.6 feet) in length, and weighs over 200 pounds.

The Kali River goonch attacks were a series of fatal attacks on humans believed to be perpetrated by man-eating goonch catfish in three villages on the banks of the Kali River in India and Nepal, between 1998 and 2007. This is the subject of a TV documentary aired on 22 October 2008, as well as an episode about the Kali River goonch attacks on the Animal Planet series River Monsters. (www.wikipedia.org)

And the raft turned turtle
We were told rafting in Bheri is very easy because the rapids in the river are not violent in comparison to other rivers in Nepal. However, as we crossed two bends after witnessing the giant devil catfish, the waves started growing bigger and bigger. Madhu and I were paddling on the front. We could feel the excitement and thrill more than others. Some waves were more than ten feet high. Water splashed on our faces and we were shouting with joy. The feeling was like being among the huge sea waves. The only difference – the water was dark and muddy.

Seeing us enjoying to the hilt, Kapil wanted to be in the lead. So we changed the places as a calm section appeared. Then within seconds, we could see one of the biggest waves. I hadn’t seen such huge waves. As we were shouting with thrill, the waves devoured the raft. It capsized and all of us were struggling to get hold of the rescue rope.

I don’t know what happened to others but I was under the raft and the rope was nowhere to be seen. I gulped the muddy water and it was dark everywhere. I could not even get above the water surface. Then suddenly I caught hold of the rope.

As I got hold of the rope, I took out my head above the water surface. The only thing I could see was Kapil, Abhijit and Madhu clinging to the rope. We had passed through the killer waves and the water was calmer at the stretch.

Then I saw two yellow helmets in a distance, being swept away by the river. One of them was yelling for help but there was nothing we could do. All of us were helpless. Then I could feel somebody struggling beneath me. I thus, left the rope and started swimming towards the shore. Kiran was also swimming.

As I reached the bank, I could see four friends clung to the raft and the guide trying to turn the raft upright. On another side of the bank was just one helmet, one had been swept away. I hastily counted the heads. There were only eight including the guide and I. One of us was missing!

I could see the sandals and paddles being swept away by the river. I already had one paddle with me and I gathered another one from the river. In spite of being drowned by the river, I hadn’t left the paddle!

Madhu and the guide mounted on the raft and along with them five of us quickly got inside the raft. The guide started shouting, “Forward, quick, quick.” And we paddled to our might. We reached near Raju who had managed to step on a rock on the bank of the river. But we left him there and asked him to come downstream following the raft. We panicked. There was no sign of Krishna.

We travelled with the flow of the river for almost 20 minutes but still didn’t find Krishna. Our hopes were fading away and unwanted thoughts started arising on our minds. Then, at a distance we saw some boys running on the rocky bank of the river. The guide said, “The boys must be running to save our friend.” A faint hope appeared within us.

As we neared the site, we could see a yellow helmet. Our hopes bounced back. There was Krishna, sitting on a rock, surrounded by locals. We brought our raft to the side and thanked the Almighty for keeping all of us alive.

We then waited for Raju for almost an hour. It was a terrible and exciting experience for him, walking alone, along the bank of the river, through the rocky patches and dense forest with the fear of leopard pouncing on his back. 

Finally our team is complete. Raju returns!

At last we were united. With the prodigal sons Krishna and Raju in the team, we were once again ready for the jaunt in the river. We thanked the locals and especially the boys who rescued Krishna from the fast flowing river. 


Kapil and Abhijit - reflection of the ordeal on their faces.

Still I could see the fear in the eyes of our mates. It was inherent. The face is mirror of the heart. It was hundred per cent true – we could sense the fear within us, in the surrounding and of course, in the dark murky river!  

Picnicking on the pristine sandy beach
Within minutes, we were once again rollicking on the waves. This time, we tried to avoid the huge rapids and kept to the side waves, so as not to get overturned once again. After few bends and rapids, we stopped by a sandy beach. The sand was crystal clear and a perfect spot for picnicking.

Sanjeev relaxes on the sandy beach.

We opened the dry box and took out the juice cans, dry fruits, apples and boiled eggs. It was fun to fill the empty stomachs. Madhu connected his portable sound machine to his mobile and the music filled the environs. “Sadda Haque!” I was listening to the song, but my mind was still hovering around the capsized raft. So was the mind of others.

Picnicking on the beach.

Second raft follows us to the beach.

Then we saw another raft coming at a distance. They also picnicked together with us. We exchanged our experiences. They had ducked the huge rapid where our raft overturned. They had three guides and most of them were good swimmers. In comparison, only three of us were good swimmers and rest were just dabblers.

Posing for a group photo.

We clicked a group picture and then again set together for the remaining part of the journey.

Set for the next round of rafting.

Swimming in calm Bheri waters
With us on the lead, we continued the ride. I took the lead along with Madhu and it was fun paddling against the giant waves once again. This time we were prepared. We paddled to our might whenever huge waves confronted us. The appearing rapids instilled more courage inside us and we were shouting on the win over the waves.  

After few huge and few short rapids, we came to a plain spread of river. “Bhurigaon of Bardia is nearby,” said Raju. The actual distance of Bhurigaon of Bardia and Surkhet is only 22 kilometres.

Then the friends of the second raft started jumping in the river and swam with the flow of the river. I too could not stop myself and swam along with them for few minutes. The water was calm but the flow was still rapid underneath.

The swim was refreshing. Kiran also swam for a while and Abhijit also took a short plunge. We were then back in the raft.

As we approached the end point in Ranighat, we could see the settlements along the bank of the river and smell the aroma of cooked food. We clicked a group picture with the guide and helped him carry the raft to the unpacking spot.

Final group photo at the end point.

As we emptied the raft, we found two sandals – one belonged to Madhu and one belonged to me. I took a snap of the sandals not wavered by the rapids. So were we, Madhu and I were still raring to go for a second joyride on the waves. Madhu was smiling with his one-glassed spectacles. The glass on the left had been swept away by the waves!    

Madhu with his one-glassed spectacles.

Widow and orphan - these two clung to the raft till the end!

Drying off the raft. Our friends carried it to this spot.

Ride with the entrepreneurs
We stopped by a hotel in Ranighat. Sudarshan Shrestha, the man behind the rafting in Bheri had ordered a meal for us. He along with his friends congratulated us on our successful ride. Krishna cautioned them on being more careful with the security. They agreed to his proposition and informed that a rescue team was getting prepared. From next week onwards, the ride will be more secure. 

We also visited a farm managed by them. They had kept pigs, cows and capons (castrated roosters) in the farm. I had never seen a capon, had just heard about it. We purchased a black beautiful one for our dinner and left the place.

The beautiful capon (castrated rooster) captured by our friends. 

The four entrepreneurs joined us in the rented Force jeep. On the way, they discussed about their further plans. “We are launching paragliding in Surkhet soon,” one of them said enthusiastically.

We nodded in unison to go for the paragliding. Madhu said, “Make sure I am the first one to do the paragliding in Surkhet.”

We were still thinking about the adventure that we had had during the rafting. Had our raft not capsized, the journey would not have been so thrilling, exciting and memorable.

I remembered Mercedes Lackey saying in Spirits White as Lighting. “Adventure, yeah. I guess that's what you call it when everybody comes back alive.”

It was a lifetime experience. Thanks go to my mates Sanjeev, Madhu, Kapil, Abhijit, Krishna, Raju, Kiran, the guide Ashok and the entrepreneurs who started rafting in Bheri River. Rafting in Bheri is an adrenaline rush to the fullest. Go for it!
 

Bardia, water snails and waiting for the tiger

Republished from www.nepalnews.com

The area surrounding Bardia National Park in Western Nepal has a unique weather. While the surrounding Banke district boils like a hot cauldron, the cool breeze from the nearby dense forest and branches of Karnali River make the area pleasant, even in summer. Surprisingly the evenings are cooler and in the mornings are misty.   

As we reached Thakurdwara, the ambience, the weather, and the smiling people, all seemed to welcome us to their land. We chose to stay at the Tharu Home Resort, on the banks of a branch of Karnali River. The river flowed gently; the water was cool and refreshing. The park is close by the resort. And, we could hear the peacocks screaming in the forest. The huts are traditional from outside, but inside you will find all modern facilities. There are around 19 such small resorts in the vicinity.

Thakurdwara is the main entrance of the Bardia National Park. It is around 13 kilometres from the East-West Highway. At Ambasa, you will find a huge gate to the south of the highway, leading to the road to Thakurdwara, with hoarding boards displaying messages of conservation. The ride to the park entrance is a bumpy one with only a small patch of black topped road. Rest of the road is gravelled and adventurous for off-road drive lovers. There’s a river on the way which generally remains dry in other seasons but has knee-deep water in the rainy season. 

Thakurdwara is named after the famous deity “Thakur Baba”, worshipped by Tharus and locals of the
area. “Dwar” means door. Literally translating, it is door to Thakur Baba’s temple. On 1st Magh (around 15 January), every year people from the region and neighbouring India flock to the temple to observe the “Maghi festival”. 

Sunset, dolphins and Thyodene laced grass
Having travelled to the area many times, I suggested driving to Hattisar, the elephant stable for a scenic sunset. The stable is around six kilometres from Thakurdwara. Having reached the location, our two shutterbugs were busy capturing the sunset, cattle and women crossing the Karnali, wooden canoe-like boats tied to the river bank, and of course posing for the perfect picture.

“The three boats are used by villagers to cross the Karnali River,” said Madhusudan Pokhrel, owner of the Racy Shade Resort. “Every villager pays ten kilos of rice in a year to the boatman to cross the river every day.” The Rajapur island houses many villages and the only way to cross the river is either a boat or a pontoon bridge at Kothiaghat downstream. During the rainy season, a ferry is used to cross the river – and it is full of people, children, motorcycles, cycles and even cattle!

As we talked about the beauty of the place, Madhusudan disgruntled with hate, “We don’t know how to save our heritage.”

“See, the water level was much higher in previous years. The people in adjacent Kailali district started extracting sand and pebbles unsustainably, making their side of the river deeper. The park authorities don’t allow people to extract even a piece of pebble from this side of the river. The result – the water level is lower here, whereas it is increasing every year at their end.”

He was sad. “Well, if you come here after few years, you will not find any water in this season, if the practice of extracting sand is continued in Kailali.”

We were curious about dolphins. On enquiring, he replied with zeal of a conservationist, “Dolphins were found here, but they are almost extinct in this part of river – the reason – snatching away dolphin’s prey through unsustainable fishing, throwing plastics in the river which is eaten by dolphins, causing deaths.”

Our topic of discussion then moved to tigers and deer. As we were figuring out the number of tigers in the park and discussing famous Hollywood star Leonardo DiCaprio’s visit to the park, we were bewildered to hear the unusual method of hunting deer.

The poachers spray lumps of salt on grass patches frequented by deer. Then they spray Thyodene on the patches. After few days of exposure to the sun, the odour of the chemical normalises and when the deer come to the patches, they eat the salty grass. Due to the grass laced with poison, they die on the spot. The poachers then take away the carcasses and make dry meat. The meat is sold at an exorbitant price. 

“Don’t ever eat dried deer meat, it is poisonous and harmful to health,” Madhusudan warned us. 

Elephant ride and wild animals
The early next morning we opted for elephant safari. The elephant ride inside the park is an exciting affair. Every second is precious and your eyeballs will remain busy searching the animals. Though the safari lasts for only an hour, you will enjoy the ride. The elephant crosses a river branch, moves through sal (Shorea robusta) forest and open grassland. You will obviously see spotted deer, monkeys (long tailed langur and common red monkey) and birds. If you are lucky, you might spot sambar deer, hog deer, barking deer and even a rhino. However, it is very rare to see a tiger during the one hour’s ride.

In Bardia, even in May, the mornings are misty

We came across a foreigner couple who had been visiting the park three hours in the morning and three hours in the evening in search of the elusive tiger. They were hell-bent on seeing a tiger. I don’t know how many days they will spend riding elephant inside the park. And, the amount they were spending every day in the process is, I would say, staggering. They ended up spending a thousand dollars every day!

The park entrance to the park is Rs 1000 (1 USD = Rs 87), and elephant ride for an hour costs Rs 2500 for a foreigner. Spending six hours inside the park on an elephant, including the morning and evening jaunts, sum up to Rs 42,000 for a couple. Paying the guides, luxury accommodation, food and jeep rides to and from the park entrance almost summed upto a thousand dollars per day. However, for Nepalese, the entrance to the park is Rs 50 and one hour elephant ride costs Rs 500.

Though the ride was short, it was much more exhilarating than the one in Sauraha of Chitwan. The ride inside the park takes you to another world – a world without human clutter and tonnes of fresh air for your punctured lungs. The greenery and grassland is a marvel to watch and the momentary glimpse of animals in wild add thrill to the excitement.

Tharu Home Stay and collecting water snails
In the evening, we drove to the Tharu Home Stay in Dalla village, around 12 kilometres from Thakurdwara. We met Shalik Ram Chaudhary, owner of house no. 8 (if I remember well) of the home stay. He is a cheerful man of short stature. Before entering his house, we had asked for local Tharu food in other houses. And all of them had the same reply, “We need to be informed in advance, at least few hours, to prepare local food.”

Shalik Ram is a man of action – he responded quickly to our demand. He said, “If you want to eat ghonghis (water snails), we can collect a handful, so that you can savour its taste tomorrow.” We gladly accepted his proposal and followed him and his two friends to a series of water holes in the nearby Shiva Community Forest frequented by rhinos.

On the way, we came across a mark, scratched by a wild beast. “Look, this is the mark of a tiger: a tiger marks its territory by scratching on the ground,” said Shalik Ram. He was pointing to the rhino and elephant droppings on the way. We were scared and I prayed silently to avoid encountering any wild beast.

The three men started searching the snails. In the fourth water hole the water level was low and they started finding the snails. To test the waters, my friends Sanjeev, Sushila and Kapil also joined the team and started picking out the snails from the muddy water. Soon the team gathered a handful of ghonghis.

Searching water snails

With the catch in hand, we returned to Shalik Ram’s house. He showed us the room for the guests – it was a decent room with two beds. The room was clean and decorated with local handicrafts. To spend a night at the home stay, you will need to pay Rs 150 per bed (turns out to be Rs 300 per room). You are invited to eat with the family with whom you stay.

Two tables were laid for us quickly and the couple brought chairs and stools. We were served homemade wine (might have been stored for more than a year, the taste was sour). To munch with the sip of wine, they brought two platefuls of sliced cucumbers. Although the taste was strange, our liquor connoisseur friends gulped the wine with new found excitement.

After sipping the wine, we were offered tea. In addition to that, we received instructions to cook the snails from the couple. It was already getting dark and we bade farewell, promising to return soon for spending a night at theirs.                        

Jungle safari and waiting for the tiger
As the sun rose, two jeeps were ready for the jungle safari. Two drivers and a nature guide wearing greens took us to the park for the much anticipated tiger viewing. The entry fee of a jeep inside the park is Rs 2000 and you will need to add Rs 3000 to hire a vehicle for a 3-4 hours ride inside the park.

The jeep safari was a completely new experience for many of my friends. Though it was not the first one for me, the view was completely new to me as well. I had never been to the park in April-May. To our dismay, wildfire was rampant, devouring the grass, bushes and shrubs. The fume of smoke was causing irritation to our eyes.

Forestfire devours the forest

 “The park authorities burn the grasses, so that tender and young grass sprout up,” said our guide. The same fire had spread to other areas as well. The crackling of fire had scared the animals to run to safer areas. Only few spotted deer could be seen in the dense jungle, followed by the langurs jumping from trees to trees.          

“The park authorities and the army guarding the park should have taken this (issue) seriously,” a faint murmuring started circling our group. “Slash and burn practices are agreeable, but the unwanted spread of wildfire is unacceptable. Why are the authorities sleeping?”    

We continued our drive. The warm gust of wind slapped our faces and in between cool gushes of fresh air brought pleasant feeling. We stopped by a waterhole, only to see a herd of deer gallop away from the site. It was the most amazing sight since we entered the park. But we were sorry for our friends in the jeep following us – they could not see even a single deer.

As we passed an army barrack in the park, our jeeps screeched to a halt. “Now don’t utter even a single word, this is the best opportunity to locate a tiger,” our guide said. “Follow me and from the high vantage point you will see a tiger, if you are lucky.”

The site was perfect! We were almost 100 feet above the river bank and the sight of the river snaking around a small piece of forest was amazing. The view of white pebbles and sand on the bank, and clear bluish green water was so stunning that we once forgot about the tiger. This is the site where I once encountered a fresh kill; the deer had been killed by a tiger only few minutes ago. The blood was still oozing out of the deer. I was on the back of an elephant and my heart was thumping with the fear and excitement of seeing a tiger. But it never happened. So, I was more excited than others.

Wild animals come to drink water in the river

We stood there waiting for the tiger, but to no avail. As we were getting restless, we met a young Dutch couple who were waiting for the tiger as well. “We saw a tiger, a rhino, and an elephant by the river – all at a single setting,” the couple exclaimed enthusiastically. “The tiger crossed the site twice.”

Hearing this we could no longer wait to reach the site mentioned by them. We asked our guide to take us to the place. As we rushed towards our jeeps, a patrolling van stopped by us and the team enquired our purpose of visiting the park. They requested for entrance tickets and asked us whether we saw a tiger. To our chagrin, the man in command said, “I have been inside the park for the last one and half years but haven’t even seen even the stripe of a tiger. Best of luck!”

With heavy hearts and eagerness we drove towards the lucky site. Reaching a river branch, the jeeps stopped and the guide summoned us to gather in a circle. “Earlier they (the park authorities) allowed the jeep to enter the core area of the park,” he said. “These days, they have banned the entry, so that the animals don’t get disturbed. Now, listen, don’t make any noises, follow me and keep your eyes and ears alert. You will need at least 20 minutes to reach the site.”

Walking through the jungle

As we were taking off our shoes to cross the river, we located a tiger pugmark. It further encouraged us and instilled hope to see a tiger. We then crossed the knee-deep river. The water was cool and relieved our tiredness. “Are there any crocodiles in the water?” one of us feared. The guide said that they would lead the way and won’t leave us in uncharted waters. We obediently followed him.

On crossing the river, we were inside the core area of the park, the forest was denser and we were on our feet! As were passing through the vehicle track, we again came across fresh pugmarks. The guide was explaining, “This is the pugmark of a male tiger; next to it is that of a female tiger.” He exhibited the difference between the pugmarks.

A tiger pugmark

Veering off the track, we encountered few foot-stamps of elephants. The branches of nearby trees were broken. Fear prevailed upon us but we still followed the guide. On the way we saw elephant and rhino droppings. The guide explained the difference, but whatever the dissimilarity, we were happy to see the piles of dung.     

On reaching the said site, we assembled in a row along the vantage point. The guide told us to settle well and keep looking at the brook below. “The tiger will come to drink water as the temperature will rise,” he said.

Dry tiger scat

Then out of nowhere, he showed a lump of dry scat. “See you are lucky, this is a tiger scat,” he said. Our cameras started rolling and clicking the pictures of the scat. It was scat of an elusive animal. We thought we were getting luckier.

However, after an hour’s wait, our hopes started simmering. We were getting restless, but still, with a faint hope of seeing a tiger, waited and waited. Not only us, but many groups like us were waiting to get a glimpse of a tiger. After almost two and half hours’ waiting, as our time permit was coming to an end, we left the place. We were disheartened but the beauty of the surrounding was inviting us to visit the place again.