<p>I could never imagine a jungle being the guardian of so many emotions. From love and forlornness, to fear and wonderment, Periyar National Park surprises at every moment. The freshly-bathed flora, greener than envy, had a touch of fantasy in its misty surroundings, rivers running through. The languid air, the scent of petrichor with hints of spices and the musty scent of the forest had romanticism written all over it. For a moment it all felt so illusory that the place might also have fairies and goblins too, lurking in the deep, away from the prancing eyes of humans. God’s Own Country, indeed!</p>.<p>The cacophony of excited monkeys on the periphery of the Periyar National Park, near Thekkady, heightened my expectations of seeing it and its inhabitants in full glory. But it wasn’t to be till the grey clouds cleared. The jungle inside was eerily silent. Yet, in that moment too, Periyar held me in a trance. The submerged dead trees in its lake standing like the memories of the past, great cormorants perched on their top and dreary-coloured water fowls had a melancholic beauty to it all. It was the Mullaperiyar Dam, made in the late 19th century, that resulted in the stoppage of the river Periyar’s water flow. What followed was a water reservoir — a lake in the valley, and the Periyar National Park. The trees that once stood tall went underwater but kept their ground, albeit in a skeletal form.</p>.<p>As the ferry advanced and the clouds gave way to sunlight, the park’s residents started making appearances. A herd of deer was grazing in peace. The sudden hullabaloo raised my hopes of spotting a striped beast. It was, however, the mighty bisons who had made the ones down the food chain run hither and thither. One of them even made the night jungle scout later a terrifyingly endearing memory. It was this range of experiences that made a certain Mrs Bell from England name her daughter India (well before Jonty Rhodes did). As she and her two daughters wielded flashlights to make a tiny scout group, she told me how she and her husband “met in India and fell in love with each other and the country; came back for the honeymoon, and now it’s the girls’ turn”. She was just going further down memory lane when the guide scout asked us to focus our eyes on a rare civet cat. The porcupines, nightjar birds, rabbits and antelopes that followed were fine, but when our lights reflected off the eyes of a mother bison with her calf, I got to know what a night in the jungle could really mean. Her loud grunting and stare had us all frozen till the guide asked us to switch off the lights and quietly move away, as “mother bison spares no moment in attacking if she senses even the slightest of danger to her little one”. Still, I was not yet ready to leave Periyar. And, as they say, a forest is a place where you lose your sense and find the soul. The abundance of enthusiasm saw me not only beating the alarm the next morning but also uncharacteristically polishing off food rather than savouring it. It was, after all, time to see another face of the Periyar Park — and eco safari in Gavi, some 50 km from Thekkady.</p>.<p>After passing through the photoshop-perfect tea estates, when many were sleeping, I was awake to welcome the first rays of sun coming from behind the mountains. A Giant Malabar Squirrel was the first to introduce me to the diversity of the dense tropical forest. Had it been its flight (read somersault) from one tree to another I might not have been able to see it. Further exploration on foot was more intimate. The uphill trek was demanding to the hilt, but the rewards were worth it. A Malabar Grey hornbill was squeaking to break the silence of the hills and the quiet of a surreal morning. She was going from tree to tree, calling and searching for her mate. Since they mate for life, a hornbill’s partner’s loss results in a lonesome life, almost suicidal. In that moment of sadness, I was ready to bid adieu to the jungle.</p>.<p><strong>For some spice...</strong></p>.<p>Almost 150 km from Kochi, Thekkady is a treasure trove of spices. Do not forget to buy cardamom, black pepper, allspice, green pepper pickle, the hot and flavourful bird’s eye chilli, pickles (I opted for nutmeg pickle from many options) and more.</p>.<p>The freshly-made banana, jackfruit, tapioca chips and crispy achchappams (delicious fried rice treats) would go perfectly with your evening tea. Also, do visit a spice garden to know a lot more about the spices, the local vegetation, and get a first-hand experience of smelling and tasting them in their raw form.</p>
<p>I could never imagine a jungle being the guardian of so many emotions. From love and forlornness, to fear and wonderment, Periyar National Park surprises at every moment. The freshly-bathed flora, greener than envy, had a touch of fantasy in its misty surroundings, rivers running through. The languid air, the scent of petrichor with hints of spices and the musty scent of the forest had romanticism written all over it. For a moment it all felt so illusory that the place might also have fairies and goblins too, lurking in the deep, away from the prancing eyes of humans. God’s Own Country, indeed!</p>.<p>The cacophony of excited monkeys on the periphery of the Periyar National Park, near Thekkady, heightened my expectations of seeing it and its inhabitants in full glory. But it wasn’t to be till the grey clouds cleared. The jungle inside was eerily silent. Yet, in that moment too, Periyar held me in a trance. The submerged dead trees in its lake standing like the memories of the past, great cormorants perched on their top and dreary-coloured water fowls had a melancholic beauty to it all. It was the Mullaperiyar Dam, made in the late 19th century, that resulted in the stoppage of the river Periyar’s water flow. What followed was a water reservoir — a lake in the valley, and the Periyar National Park. The trees that once stood tall went underwater but kept their ground, albeit in a skeletal form.</p>.<p>As the ferry advanced and the clouds gave way to sunlight, the park’s residents started making appearances. A herd of deer was grazing in peace. The sudden hullabaloo raised my hopes of spotting a striped beast. It was, however, the mighty bisons who had made the ones down the food chain run hither and thither. One of them even made the night jungle scout later a terrifyingly endearing memory. It was this range of experiences that made a certain Mrs Bell from England name her daughter India (well before Jonty Rhodes did). As she and her two daughters wielded flashlights to make a tiny scout group, she told me how she and her husband “met in India and fell in love with each other and the country; came back for the honeymoon, and now it’s the girls’ turn”. She was just going further down memory lane when the guide scout asked us to focus our eyes on a rare civet cat. The porcupines, nightjar birds, rabbits and antelopes that followed were fine, but when our lights reflected off the eyes of a mother bison with her calf, I got to know what a night in the jungle could really mean. Her loud grunting and stare had us all frozen till the guide asked us to switch off the lights and quietly move away, as “mother bison spares no moment in attacking if she senses even the slightest of danger to her little one”. Still, I was not yet ready to leave Periyar. And, as they say, a forest is a place where you lose your sense and find the soul. The abundance of enthusiasm saw me not only beating the alarm the next morning but also uncharacteristically polishing off food rather than savouring it. It was, after all, time to see another face of the Periyar Park — and eco safari in Gavi, some 50 km from Thekkady.</p>.<p>After passing through the photoshop-perfect tea estates, when many were sleeping, I was awake to welcome the first rays of sun coming from behind the mountains. A Giant Malabar Squirrel was the first to introduce me to the diversity of the dense tropical forest. Had it been its flight (read somersault) from one tree to another I might not have been able to see it. Further exploration on foot was more intimate. The uphill trek was demanding to the hilt, but the rewards were worth it. A Malabar Grey hornbill was squeaking to break the silence of the hills and the quiet of a surreal morning. She was going from tree to tree, calling and searching for her mate. Since they mate for life, a hornbill’s partner’s loss results in a lonesome life, almost suicidal. In that moment of sadness, I was ready to bid adieu to the jungle.</p>.<p><strong>For some spice...</strong></p>.<p>Almost 150 km from Kochi, Thekkady is a treasure trove of spices. Do not forget to buy cardamom, black pepper, allspice, green pepper pickle, the hot and flavourful bird’s eye chilli, pickles (I opted for nutmeg pickle from many options) and more.</p>.<p>The freshly-made banana, jackfruit, tapioca chips and crispy achchappams (delicious fried rice treats) would go perfectly with your evening tea. Also, do visit a spice garden to know a lot more about the spices, the local vegetation, and get a first-hand experience of smelling and tasting them in their raw form.</p>
