Tokalo : Day Six
Day Six was being enamoured by the place, swimming in the river, enjoying
the food and mind taking the happy road.
I wake up confused whether to lie or rush out to bird songs.
Walking out I see ethereal mist lying on the surface – or was rising from it. Places
undisturbed by humans are difficult to define. It would have been impossible to
do justice to the mist, river and all around then in words. I refrain from
making an attempt - there is anyways too much injustice in the world.
The hut ~
After a while I sit with the camera and binoculars on the stores
near the river and Ra arrives with steaming tea in bamboo. I see the wagtails
enjoying themselves over water and a thick-billed crow. On occasions the
wagtails appear as if an invisible hand is musically swaying black and white
objects and on others as if the wagtails are keys of a piano, kaladan being the
piano.
The meal follows. I have begun to enjoy the food. The sugar and
dal have intermingled while they were co-travelers on the dug-out yesterday and
so we will have a sweet dal and dal flavoured chai for at least 2 days. The
glasses are made from bamboo – fresh each day. They serve needs of all liquids
from water and tea to of course dal. Potatoes are cooked with dal and we have chutney
– primarily freshly crushed dry red chilly. We sit together as the meal is
spread on leaves. And yes, the fresh fish from Kaladan; caught before the river
takes them over to Burma – about 2 kms down-stream.
I understand NT is concerned about the city dwelling me and I have
heeded to his concerns during the stay at Lomasu; but today it is too much. I
announce my intentions to plunge for a swim and move on! Simply bliss the time
in the cool waters. I swim in the pools, sit on the stones, walk and waddle in
the area between the stones and pools and enjoy every bit of it. Today NT has
been asking of that region around Narmada river and which borders Pakistan; he
had been there during a training program. Gujarat I ask. He nods. Our talks
then suddenly veer to the poverty in Burma. One of the survey colleagues refers
to it as the poorest country in the world.
The Kaladan ~
It is very hot and I am inside our hut collating records as also
reading them. Another round of tea and we move towards Kumai river from where
we turn left. Kumai is the India – Burma border for that stretch; while we put
the posts in India we walked in Burma for it was easier. After Bhutan and
Bangladesh, Burma is a hat-trick for my trip out-side India sans documents. As
I walk I see to my surprise banana orchards and what I understand is one year
old jhum plot. We put up posts 3 and 4 and while returning walk down the
Kaladan into Burma. I see red-whiskered bulbuls and find the absence of black bulbuls
very interesting. They are abundant around Saiha and since we have crossed
Phura - absent.
I play with this little boy, a part of the family we have stayed
put with. He reminds me of a neighbor in Bangladesh. I take his picture and
smile on seeing his and his mother’s reaction to the small screen on the
camera. She conveys that this is the first time she had seen a photo of her boy.
There seemed to be no way of sending them the prints after return! They seem to
be surviving on basics by selling wood and other forest products to Lomasu and
camps of Burmese underground. How very relative terms like basic are!
Coming back, sitting on the beach I wonder how many of these
spaces we still have? Should these spaces be designated as Wildlife Sanctuaries?
They need ‘protection’ from some human actions are they not much more than Wildlife
Sanctuaries? Repositories of not just select species but also cultures which
survive in them; cultures rich and robust. Cultures connected to the past and
bearing abilities to lead us into the future. Would heritage reserves not be
more appropriate? Allowing landscapes to flourish by not interfering, existing
villages have ‘space’ to continue their lifestyles while the likes of dams and
rubber plantations are out. Being in a forest makes one positive!
The meal ~
Ja has been off birding and I wonder if he feels home-sick. The
only time he otherwise leaves home for than a few days is when Church beckons.
Jo has been fine except for his bothering about survey funds; I guess that is
an outcome of partnership with the Forest Department and do not interfere.
I sit around the fire and chat with Ra. He is just back from
checking and cutting the line with helpers. He is stunned and 2 of the helpers
have refused to continue. The forests are dense and dying – decaying bamboo has
made things tougher. Ra suggests going to Bymari, moving to Border Post 14 on
the Burma border and come towards the current camp site. His suggestion gets a
nod from me but NT does not accept it. He however is frank to concede that he
has never been to these parts and does not want to complicate. But, does he
have an option I wonder. I feel at times that he is not planning the adventure
properly and others that the uncertainties, lack of clarity and the
infrastructure will not permit a very different scenario. A forest where even
the locals are hesitant to go in! A forest affected by gregarious bamboo
flowering!
I take a walk on the beach again, see fishermen with torches,
listen to water gushing and my thoughts flow with the water. These thoughts are
about fun times and cheerful moments.
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