Oasis

Prologue: Extending The Weekend

'Owing to the recent forest fires, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu have imposed a ban on trekking. So, putting the Kumbakkarai to Kodaikanal trek on hold, we're thinking of going to Gokarna instead.'

'Finally,' Isha rolled her eyes. 'I'm in.' She'd been waiting for this since the Kumaraparvat trek.

'Finally,' Chetanya cheered. 'I'm in.' He'd been waiting for this since he'd missed out on Kodchadri.

The veterans cheered silently; a trip every month had become intertwined with their daily rigmarole.

The others didn't give two hoots.

Fortunately, March 30th was a holiday, owing to Good Friday.

'Not for me,' Radhika scowled. 'Keep it over the weekend, please.'

'Me neither.'

'Yeah, not everyone is as lucky as you JP Morgan people.'

'All right, all right,' I shielded myself from the digital blows. 'We leave Friday night, back by Sunday night. As always.'

I sulked for a bit. Good Friday was going to be in vain. Vedant came to my rescue, not long after.

'Listen, I'm renting out that amazing zoom lens; the one I used for Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary. Let's go to Turahalli forest and Bannerghatta butterfly park on Friday. I'll call Rachit too.' He messaged me.

And so, I found myself packing sandwiches and dry fruits on Thursday night, for our trip to the Oasis.

Chapter - 1 : Bus

I awoke for the 5 am bus to Banashankari TTMC, just like for Thottikallu Falls. The sky was the exact shade of black which turned navy blue on further inspection. I wore my shoes and made my way to Kundanahalli Gate, yawning the entire time. Getting up early never became easier; you just learnt not to cry about it.

My mind registered only snippets of the journey; the turn after A2B, the Kadubeesanahalli underpass, and the first ray of sunlight near Bangalore Central; like a sequence from Memento.

The bus blinked to a stop at Bellandur Petrol Bunk, where Vedant and Rachit boarded, with their equipment in tow. We looked like a documentary film crew.

'Pra,' they grinned.

'Pra,' I grinned back.

They settled down and took the bus passes. The sky was now humming a cerulean blue, and I hummed along; Iron Sky, by Paolo Nutini.

'And we’ll rise over love, and over hate...
Through this iron sky, that’s fast becoming our minds...
Over fear, and into freedom...
Into freedom...'

Chapter - 2 : Bird

At Banashankari, we changed the bus, taking the one that went to Raghuvanahalli. We passed the familiar early morning vegetable market on Kanakpura road, the produce looking fresh and fragrant without trick lighting or wax coating. Everything was better, early in the morning.

'Where are all these Photoshopped looking fine-ass vegetables in Bangalore? The suburbs are getting all the good stuff...' Vedant lamented.

'Yeah, I used to think South Indian coriander is yellow and lemons are green,' Rachit guffawed.

'Almost makes you want to be a vegetarian, huh?' Vedant winked at me.

'Hey, if you think about it, non-vegetarians are just vegetarians who also eat meat,' I chuckled.

The stop arrived, and we ran off, taking the right turn into the Turahalli village. Almost instantly, the sound of traffic ebbed away, the breeze blew cooler and harder, and the bucolic skyline germinated from the smog and concrete, like a butterfly from its chrysalis. 

We passed a dog daycare. It was a small, fenced playground, with all sorts of exotic breeds roughhousing and chasing each other. Rachit approached the fence, and almost every dog rushed to him, wagging their tails and jumping up at him.

'Dogs like him on sight.' Vedant chuckled.

'Or smell.' I walked up next to Rachit, and a Collie started pawing the fence, trying to get at my shoes. 'Actually, some even believe that dogs can sense who you are, deep down, and that's what they come running to.'

'Are you saying my soul smells like bones?' Rachit asked, and we all cracked up. 

'Hey, what's that?' I pointed to one of the telephone wires.

'Oh, man, that...looks a lot like...' Rachit squinted his eyes and went closer. 'Yep. I'm positive. That's a bird.'

Vedant was not amused.

The Indian robin (Copsychus fulicatus); female. They are commonly found in open scrub areas and often seen running along the ground or perching on low thorny shrubs and rocks. It is widespread in the Indian subcontinent, and ranges across Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Nepal, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka. The long tail is usually held up and the chestnut undertail coverts and dark body make them easily distinguishable from pied bushchats and oriental magpie robins. Local names include Nalanchi (Telugu), Wannatikuruvi (Tamil, Washerman bird), Kalchuri (Hindi) and Paan kiriththaa (Sinhala). 

Chapter - 3 : Butterfly

The forest was right on the path. The entry gate was wherever you decided to quit the road. We entered Turahalli forest through a small row of saplings - I had attended a plantation drive during my PS in Bangalore. There were still some plants from then, having grown just a couple of feet.

I looked over to the opposite side of the road, where the foundations for a building had already been laid, with a few floors already underway, their iron skeletons sticking out threateningly. It had been a natural grove, just last year. Concrete grew much faster than plants. 

We trekked our way to the nearest trail, keeping an eye out for any life apart from us. A glossy sunbird parkoured between a few plants and hopped out of existence. I stalked it for a while, when suddenly, something else caught my eye. 

'Rachit, there's a huge butterfly, on that flower. Can you get it?' 

'I'll call Vedant. His camera is better.' 

Vedant came running quietly. He waited for it to settle, and pounced. Its beautiful red and black tessellations on its hindquarters were clearly visible.

Pachliopta hector, the crimson rose, is a large swallowtail butterfly belonging to the genus Pachliopta (roses) of the red-bodied swallowtails. It is found in India and Sri Lanka and possibly the coast of western Myanmar. In India, it is found in the Western Ghats, southern India (Kerala), eastern India (West Bengal and Odisha). It is a straggler in the Andaman Islands. The crimson rose is very fond of flowers, especially Lantana. Nectar appears to be essential for the butterfly and a higher nectar intake is thought to increase egg production. The red body, slow peculiar flight, bright colouration and pattern of the wings are meant to indicate to predators that this butterfly is inedible. The most striking aspect of the butterfly's behaviour is its strong migratory tendencies. During the peak of its season, several thousand crimson roses can be found congregating, and then they begin migrating to other areas.

'I have a feeling today is going to be priceless.' Vedant grinned, while we all gushed over the photo. 

Chapter - 4 : Burrow

With renewed vigor, we made our way upwards, following the trail to the highest point. I had to improvise because of our off trail fauna hunts, which led to a lot of scratches from brambles and thorny leaves.

'You're going to kill me even before the Gokarna trek,' Vedant yelped, dodging sharp sticks and pushing away thorny branches gingerly. 

'Are other trips with Danish like this too?' Rachit whispered, scratching his bare legs and giving himself rashes where the brambles hadn't.

'This, stretched over two days,' Vedant winked at him. 'Want to come for the next one?'

'Absolutely.'

We circled a large rock, following a peahen that was strutting about. Rachit crept towards it like a creepy uncle at spring break, but the peahen still had its untamed instincts left. I remembered the peacocks of Pilani, whom you could just pat on the head. Rachit disappeared for a while; probably having found his own subject.

'Vedant, you need to get here asap. There are three woodpeckers drilling into that deadwood.' I turned around and whispered.

'Jesus, hold them or something. I'm coming, goddamn it.' He fumbled with his camera, and stumbled into the clearing, positioning himself for the perfect shot. The parents had flown away by then, but the juvenile was still pecking; with short, erratic, untrained bursts. Vedant lost no time.

The white-naped woodpecker (Chrysocolaptes festivus); juvenile, female. It is a flameback woodpecker which is a widespread but scarce breeder in the Indian Subcontinent. Like other woodpeckers, this species has a straight pointed bill, a stiff tail to provide support against tree trunks, and zygodactyl or “yoked" feet, with two toes pointing forward, and two backward. The long tongue can dart forward to capture insects. The adult male white-naped woodpecker has a red crown and females have a yellow crown. Young birds are colored like the female, but duller.


Rachit was more interested in the little trinkets of beauty surrounding him. Once every few minutes, he would kneel to the ground to frame an interesting composition, or thrust the camera into a thicket of trees to capture its solitude.

A catacomb-ish cobweb took my fancy. I hummed Arriving Somewhere But Not Here by Porcupine Tree, as I stared into its silvery tendrils, the delicate fabric reminding me how precariously the universe was held together.

'All my designs, simplified...
And all of my plans, compromised...
And all of my dreams, sacrificed...'

Chapter - 5 : Bustle

'All right man, time out.' Rachit slapped his hands on my shoulders. 'Let's have a picnic.'

We chose a rock with the right mix of the view of the skyline, and the bushes for avian activity. Little did we realize, we were right in the centre of an amphitheater, and the birds were the audience. 

It all started with a shy little Prinia, hiding in plain sight. It cocked its head sideways at us, as if judging our species. Well, we had it coming.

The plain prinia, or the white-browed wren-warbler (Prinia inornata) is a small warbler in the Cisticolidae family. It is a resident breeder from Pakistan and India to south China and southeast Asia. This skulking passerine bird is typically found in wet lowland grassland, open woodland, scrub and sometimes gardens. The sexes are identical. In winter, the upperparts are a warmer brown, and the underparts more buff. The tail is longer than in summer. There are a number of races differing in plumage shade. The endemic race in Sri Lanka retains summer plumage, including the shorter tail, all year round. Like most warblers, the plain prinia is insectivorous. The song is a repetitive tlee-tlee-tlee.

'Seriously,' Vedant muttered, putting his camera away. 'If the animals and birds all got sentient and realized what we're doing, they would maim us in our sleep.' I guess he was thinking the same thing. 

A group of oriental white-eyes flitted about behind us, as we munched on chips and biscuits, and chana (black gram). 'Oh man, I've been waiting to get one of these,' Vedant mumbled through his morsel and got up, stepping stealthily off the rock and into the thicket.

He came visibly elated, although the photo wasn't very clear. 'The composition is beautiful, though,' he said, and proceeded to chase a red-whiskered bulbul that was perched at an impossibly lucky location.

'So clear,' Vedant came back, wiping fake tears.    

The tempered, anxious calls of the brain-fever bird rang through the forest, and it came into view, alighting on a branch, scanning the entire panorama without moving its body.

The common hawk-cuckoo (Hierococcyx varius), popularly known as the brainfever bird, is a medium-sized cuckoo resident in the Indian subcontinent. It bears a close resemblance to the Shikra, even in its style of flying and landing on a perch. The resemblance to hawks gives this group the generic name of hawk-cuckoo and like many other cuckoos these are brood parasites, laying their eggs in nests of babblers. During their breeding season in summer males produce loud, repetitive three note calls that are well-rendered as 'brain-fever', the second note being longer and higher pitched. These notes rise to a crescendo before ending abruptly and repeat after a few minutes. Other interpretations of the bird call include peea kahan in Hindi ('where's my love') or chokh gelo (in Bengali, 'my eyes are gone') and paos ala (Marathi, 'the rains are coming').

'Worth it,' Vedant declared, stowing away his camera, and we sat back down to finish our picnic. 

Chapter - 6 : Bee

'There's something really tiny, returning again and again to that flower,' I pointed straight, at the first tree that marked the end of the skyline. 'Looks like a bumblebee, but the colours are off.'

'Hmm,' Vedant peered closely, and Rachit took a few steps away - he was apprehensive of a bee sting. 'It's moving too fast, but I'm going to try.'

Next thing we knew, Vedant was anchoring the camera on my shoulders as I stood as still as possible. The bee returned to the exact same spot after every loop, and stayed for a fleeting moment before executing another. It looked like it was courting the flower. We all held our breaths, and Vedant waited for the perfect time to click, like a game of V-Cop.

'Got it!' Vedant cheered jubilantly.

Xylocopa varipuncta, the valley carpenter bee. A distinguishing characteristic that uniquely separates them from other species of bees is their ability to thermoregulate. This allows them to fly at very high temperatures without overheating and at low temperatures without freezing. By modifying their foraging patterns and flying between different altitudes depending upon temperature, the valley carpenter bee is able to adapt to very different environments through predisposed behavioral patterns. Carpenter bees are notorious for damaging man-made wooden structures, lead cables, fiberglass insulation, and Styrofoam. However, they are essential due to their pollination ability of various species of flowers. Their large body size makes them the natural pollinators of large flowers such as Passiflora and Luffa species and of other fruits and vegetables.


'My God. I can see its dreams,' I said, as Vedant zoomed further in. 'What is this lens?'

'Nat Geo level, right? The goal is to save up enough to buy this - and a kick-ass macro lens too.' Vedant mused. 'Then I can start sending photos to the big-shots in nature photography.'

'My God. I can see its dreams,' Rachit said, looking into Vedant's eyes. We all laughed.

Chapter - 7 : Bob    

'This is actually a good time for lizards too,' Vedant muttered, as I ambled around, making small jumps and trying basic calisthenic exercises on the rocks, chewing the last of my chana. 'We should keep an eye on the undersides of rocks or small crevices.'

Rachit was busy chasing the peahen that had re-emerged from the forest below. We all scattered for a while, finding our own chimeras to chase in the forest.

A lizard scurried right in front of me, coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of the rock. I had no idea how to tell the others - fortunately, Rachit had arrived, bringing Vedant along.

The common side-blotched lizard (Uta stansburiana). It is notable for having a unique form of polymorphism wherein each of the three different male morphs utilizes a different strategy in acquiring mates by a rock-paper-scissors mechanism of frequency-dependent sexual selection. Orange-throated males are "ultradominant." They are the largest and most aggressive morph, keeping harems of females with which they mate. They are adept at stealing mates from blue-throated individuals, but are vulnerable to cuckoldry by the yellow-throated female mimics. Blue-throated males are "dominant". They are intermediate in size, and guard smaller territories containing only a single female. As they only have one mate to defend, they are better at catching yellow-throated sneaks, but are also susceptible to having their mates stolen by the larger, more aggressive orange-throated males. Yellow-throated males are “sneakers”. Their coloration is similar to that of sexually mature females, and they typically mimic female “rejection” displays when they encounter dominant orange- or blue-throated males. They rely on their mimicry to sneak matings with unattended females. This is more easily achieved among the harems kept by orange-throated males than by the single, closely guarded mate of the blue-throated males.


'That camouflage is insane - how does evolution do this randomly? Genes must be able to see or something; it can't be one lucky guy who just happened to have these colours, and that's the one that survived - right?' Vedant asked, to no one in particular. My mind flashed back to the exact same discussion that me and Shankar had had; frequently.

'Okay, I've never seen that before.' I pointed to a red, black and yellow lizard, crawling on the underside of a boulder, defying gravity casually. Vedant lay prostrate, hanging from the side, trying to get face to face with it. 'Come on, please look at me,' he muttered quietly.

'Nice pick-up line,' I murmured, and Rachit sniggered.

The Peninsular rock agama (Psammophilus dorsalis); male and female. It is a common species of agama found on rocky hills in south India. Males bask openly on exposed rocks and show head push-up displays. The larger males take up higher perch positions. They flatten their bodies when birds fly overhead. Young and females are olive-brown, spotted, speckled, or marbled with dark brown, and with a series of white, elongated spots along each side of the back. The male has pale brownish colour on the top of the head and back, while the lips are yellowish-brown, and this extends as a strip beyond the ear. A dark brown or black lateral stripe begins behind the eye and broadens to cover the lower sides. The underside is yellow with the throat mottled with grey.



Suddenly, it raced up the rock, and revealed its full self, perching two feet from us, and bobbing its head furiously.

'Lizard push-ups,' I observed. 'There's probably a female or a male threat nearby.'

'Everywhere,' Rachit groaned, slapping his head. 'Probably the one universal rule that still holds, no matter how much we progress - if there are females around, the males will make fools of themselves.'

We all chuckled. The sunlight had grown harsher, and late morning was upon us. It was time to head back.

'This is the trail that goes down. Well, actually every path from here goes down.' I told them, picking up my bag and setting off.

'Metaphor for life?' Vedant asked me, grinning.

I laughed and clapped him on his back. 'Parag would be proud.'

'How pleasant, bobbing along,
Bobbing along on the bottom,
Of the beautiful briny sea...
What a chance,
To get a better peep,
At the plants,
And creatures of the deep...'

Chapter - 8 : Broken

We made our way in the sun, hunger hitting us hard now. We were probably the only ones in the forest. Only a lone kite loomed overhead, keeping an eye out for lunch.

I spotted a small stick-like formation, which appeared to be moving, weakly. It was a stick insect, with a broken leg. I held it delicately, while the others stared. I didn't know whether to put it out of its misery or leave it alone.

'Let it be,' Rachit echoed my thoughts. 'Insects recover from worse.' I nodded and put it down. I couldn't help wondering if I would be able to get over a missing limb, or even a broken leg; how often we take our bodies for granted.

Rachit stopped to examine a tattered cobweb, and I looked around at the flowering plants; their colors bleached by months of sun. Everyone was waiting for the rain.

I saw a few more butterflies - some familiar, some new. Vedant spotted a really exotic dragonfly. It looked like one of its wings was broken - as it turned out, astonishingly, only half of its wing was transparent.

Rhyothemis variegata, known as the common picture wing or variegated flutterer, is a species of dragonfly of the family Libellulidae, found in South Asia. It breeds in marshes, ponds and paddy fields. They appear to have weak flight and can easily be mistaken for butterflies.


We came upon the main trail, the one that exited near Sobha Forest View. I said my last goodbye to the forest, and walked with Vedant and Rachit into the city.

Chapter - 9 : Back

'Look! Food!' Rachit pointed crazily. 'And we're the only customers.'

We floated towards it, carried by the fragrance of fresh vadais and idlis. It looked like a Disney cartoon clip. 

The food was fresh and cheap. Vedant smiled elatedly, and I knew he was reminiscing the idli-vada massacre of the Bandaje Falls trek.

We had coconut water just a little up ahead, the standard cool-down drink. Rachit was almost going to pour it all over himself, like the Slice Aamsutra ad - except this couldn't really be televised. 

'Pra, we're going to Bannerghatta now?' Vedant asked, back in the shutterbug zone. 

'Yeah.' I turned to Rachit. 'You coming?' 

'Nah, I'll head back; but tell me about the next trek; I'm coming for sure.' He nodded furiously. 'I need to upgrade my weekends.' 

A bus that would drop us at the Kanakpura junction appeared. Rachit would ride it all the way to Hebbal, while we would take the one that went to Bannerghatta, at the junction. 

We boarded, and the last reminder of the forest was an oriental magpie-robin, staring at us from a telephone wire. 

Chapter - 10 : Bannerghatta 

'Well, Bannerghatta was a let-down,' Vedant grumbled, as we sat in the bus back to Banashankari from the zoo. 'We saw more butterfly varieties at Gulakamale Lake.'

'Hmm, the butterfly park is the best feature of this place. No one recommends the safari anyway.' We pored over the pictures. 'The butterflies were good, though?'

'Well, yes.' Vedant gave in. 'Wouldn't call it a waste.'

We took the bus that went to Kundanahalli Gate, from Banashankari. Vedant would get off at Bellandur. We both dozed off, waking only at the Sarjapur junction.

'When does the bus leave?' Vedant drawled lethargically, referring to the Gokarna trip which was starting tonight.

'8 o clock. It's Friday night though, so relax. It's going to be a long journey; and then if we get out of Bangalore, a slightly shorter one.' I chuckled back.

He grinned and went to the front, getting off at Bellandur. As the bus roared off, a blue Tiger butterfly fluttered near the window momentarily, as if bidding me farewell, and returned to whichever oasis it had come from.


'It doesn't matter what you want, 
As long as you keep moving on, 
A bird, a bee, a flower, a tree, 
A job, a peak, whatever you seek, 
A view, a dish, whatever you wish,
A stage, a song; just come along, 
A walk, a chat, or this or that, 
Or maybe love, or the One above... 

So stop chasing your fickle mind, 
And come, this endless world awaits, 
I know, infinity scares us all, 
But better to die with a fleeting glimpse, 
Of the Oasis we're looking for... 

So stop chasing your fickle mind, 
Yes, better to die chasing a mirage, 
The Oasis we're looking for. 
For the mind is but a naughty child, 
That keeps running in circles...'


Photos, courtesy of Vedant Sapra and Rachit Kumar.


Vedant's YouTube Channel : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_-wTP-OKAF6HskDOqSeREw
Vedant's Instagram Page : https://www.instagram.com/vedantsapra/

Epilogue : Less Is More

'Sir, I'll be there in less than one hour. There's some accident here on the KR Puram road, so there's a jam. I'll call when I'm at Marathahalli Bridge.' The driver wailed and cut the call. 

The bus was supposed to be at my place at 8. It was 9 already, and people had started grumbling. There had been unprecedented rains too, so traffic was even slower than usual.

'What's the ETA for marathahalli bridge?' 

'We should call redbus and blast them for this delay.'

'Should we all get together and board at one point?' 

'What are the revised pickup points with timing?' 

'Is it okay if I change my boarding from marathahalli to yeshwantpur?' 

'Where is that army hospital again?' 

'It's raining. I'll be late by half an hour at least.'

I finished the last of my packing and smiled. This was going to be fun. 

All Those Who Wander

Chapter - 6 : A Stitch In Time

'What do you mean, there's no bus?' I blurted out.

'Here's the deal,' Nalin massaged his temple with great restraint. 'Our bus is apparently some computerized, sentient, Optimus Prime Jarvis hybrid thingy, and it's gone Blade Runner on us.'

'Our bus is computerized?' I guffawed. 'It doesn't even have a license plate. It groans every hour, and the brakes sound like the soundtrack from The Conjuring. I almost thought I'll crack open the diesel tank and find The Flintstones inside.'

'Whatever be the reason, our vehicle's finished. There's a mechanic coming from Sagara tomorrow morning to take a look, but we need a contingency plan.'

'Not to worry - there's two buses that'll arrive at Nittur, at 6 and 7. They'll go straight to Bangalore. All of us should be able to find seats.'

'All 28 of us?' Nalin asked sceptically.

I shrugged. 'What other options?'

'Let me call the travels guy once,' Kowshik spoke up. 'I'll tell him to send us another bus from somewhere close by. He has a lot of vehicles running all over the state.'

'Okay, that sounds good too. And I'll ask Quicksilver about the morning buses, their frequency, the approximate rush and other transport options.'

'Done. I'll make sure folks don't panic.'

I and Shankar walked out to our compatriots after talking to our guide. Buses were available, no problem, but there was no guarantee we would all find seats. Worst case, the least tired of us would go home standing. Now, to distract the populace.

'Hello people,' Shankar spoke in his characteristic tremble. 'Who wants a campfire?'

'That's your excitement voice?' I whispered angrily to Shankar. 'This is how we announce cremations.'

We dodged the hail of dirty socks and bolted back inside. I guess no one was in the mood.

Over dinner, we laid out the options, with suggestions and scenarios being thrown around, and updates being discussed. In the end, there was nothing we could do before the following morning, so we decided to save our energy for the next day.

As I was settling into my tent, Shankar came up to me, laughing silently. 'Dude, the driver was right there, eating with us, while we were discussing abandoning the bus and taking public transport. After everyone left, he suddenly lost it, muttering about how we were all taking decisions without consulting him.' He looked around furtively. 'We'll have to be careful about whatever we do tomorrow.'

I nodded. 'I knew from his mustache itself that he's repressed.'

Shankar laughed and went to his tent. I took one last look at the night sky and the moon, the mighty silhouettes of the trees and the musty, cool earth; being stuck here wouldn't be so bad.

Chapter - 7 : The Grass Is Greener

'Danish, you awake?'

Shankar was outside my tent. I had been floating in sleep limbo since 5 am, when his voice finally pulled me to the here and now.

I kickstarted my body into motion and got up, like an old Honda motor. The analogy reminded me; we didn't have a bus. I stepped out of the tent and greeted the early morning blue. Wordlessly, we walked off into the forest.

It was like watching dusk in reverse - except it was happening to the body too. After a point, I couldn't tell if the world was brightening or if I was waking up. Each colour grew deeper, each outline grew crisper, and orange swept over the blue, with yellow in tow, like the sky was an ocean with the rainbow as its waves. Birdsong came alive in the forest; how lucky, to have music as your language. I mentally noted the presence of doves, mynas, hornbills and egrets. After the Odisha trip, my bird-spotting and call-identifying skills had improved, owing to my parents.

We rushed up a small hill, to meet the line where the light was starting. The sunrise would probably be visible from there.

'Hornbills,' I whispered, as three of them alighted on a branch right above me. The angle and lighting was definitely not cordial now, but I could capture their silhouettes. We stalked other birds for a while - there were some thrushes, tits and magpies, along with a few smaller birds I had never seen before - until a black, majestic creature flitted into view, its twin tails fluttering like victory flags.

'Racket-tailed drongo!' I nudged Shankar furiously. 'My phone, ada paavi, where's my phone...' I man-handled him for a while until I realized it was in my pocket. By the time I'd gotten close enough for a decent shot, it flew off, probably in response to a faraway mating call.

'Did you see that tail? How does evolution do that?' Shankar mused.

'Boggles my mind, everytime.' I concurred. 'It's as if DNA is writing pickup lines all over birds' bodies.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled. 'So many colours and patterns...and apparently it's all random.'

The first rays of light meandered through the foliage and came to rest upon the valley. We climbed further, and waited. Like a distant, quiet explosion, a supernova emerged from between the hills, blinding and soothing at the same time. All our thoughts and the light we had left yesterday came rushing back to us, renewed and refreshed. Somewhere, there was now a sunset.

We descended the hill and started walking back to our camp. Anurag met us halfway, and we went along a small bund of sorts, looking at the water birds rummaging about in the makeshift stream for their early morning baths and other rituals. It was time to get going.

Just next to our cottage, there was a small field, fenced away with barbed wire. We spotted a peacock and a peahen, prancing about like in a sensual tango. Our footsteps alone scared them away, as they strutted off to continue their performance under safer trees. I was reminded of the deer in the IIT Chennai campus, and the peacocks in Pilani; unmindful of humans, even allowing us to touch and pet them. Years of proximity to people had warped their very instincts.

We went inside, and joined the others for breakfast. It was a sombre, quick affair, as finding a way back home was on everyone's minds. We paid some of the remaining amount to the home stay people, promising to transfer the rest after reaching home.

'Okay, let's check on the bus, for the last time, and then decide accordingly. I think that mechanic came yesterday, that's all the info I have.'

The bus was located slightly away, so a few of us clambered onto the jeep and went off, leaving the rest of us waiting like loved ones outside an operation room. Nothing happened for five minutes.

'What if...' Shankar started with a tone of alarm.

'Don't say it,' I said dramatically, trying to sound like someone was dying. 'It won't help with the pain.' Shankar cracked up at that.

We heard a sound, increasing in volume steadily. Puzzled, all of us went out the door and looked towards the road. We were greeted by our bus, roaring into view, with our friends in the jeep just behind it, hooting louder than the engine.

Chapter - 8 : Worth A Thousand Words

We grabbed our luggage and climbed in, smiles being passed all around. Me and Shankar climbed a nearby tree, while the others settled in. Our driver with the bipolar mustache got into the bus, and started the engine.

'People!' I yelled. 'We need a group photo.' 

'Oh damn, almost pulled another Sharavati,' Shankar chuckled, remembering our Sharavati Valley trip, where the only group photo was in front of the Majestic Metro Station. 

We jumped off the tree and joined the others, while Vedant tried to fit us all in one frame, turning on the timer and hurrying back to us. After an anti-climactic click, we all boarded the bus. Time to visit the Nagara fort.

It was on the way back, just fifteen minutes from Nittur. We climbed the walls, looking up at the towering structure until our necks creaked with the effort. I was just waiting to get to the top and look back down at the ground.

We reached the top, one by one. It was like a huge playground in the sky, with strong winds threatening to blow Shankar's hat off. The expansive views were back, and we tried to find the horizon again, moving farther and farther away the more we looked.

The group sat on the edge, united for once, by silence. We dangled our legs and watched the kites, soaring almost at eye level. There was something about forts and mountains; a majesty, a sense of permanence that was a consolation; not everything ended.

People took more photos, and a few solitary members went off on their own, to find some peaceful corner where others had left similar thoughts behind.

We started making our way down, back towards the bus. The breeze slowed down and finally stopped, like a conversation that had ended. I took one last look at the gateway, and went back into the vehicle. Now there was nothing left to do but go home.

Chapter - 9 : All Play And No Work

We snacked on cakes, banana chips and other paraphernalia like zombies, in scattered groups and thoughts. Occasionally, everyone looked into each other's eyes and smiled, joking and laughing about everything that had happened. This was the reminiscing phase of the trip - people looked out the window and remembered meeting the sky, staring into infinity, watching an endless sunset, or walking under the stars.

They say that the eyes are windows to the soul. So are windows.

After an hour or so, people came out of their minds and started fidgeting about, looking for something to do. We decided to play 20 questions. It started with six people, and eventually everyone took notice, joining in.

'Any great photos this trip?' I asked Vedant.

'Yes, definitely. I'll send them to you after all the processing etc.'

'Dude you missed hornbills and the racket-tailed drongo again.' I smiled ruefully. 'But I'm pretty sure you'll capture it in the next one. How was the night-sky time-lapse, though?'

'We'll find out. The skies were brilliant this time - crystal clear and blue. Very different from Bandaje, and yet as beautiful.'

I sat at the back with Rhythm, listening to her sing; the waters of our Pensieve rippling with every note. The latter half of the bus slowly turned to her, transfixed into a meditative state by her voice and slow hum of the speeding breeze. She blushed when she realized everyone was looking at her.

'Let's all sing, please. I'll get conscious otherwise.' She covered her face.

'Cool. Antaakshari?' Radhika suggested.

'Are you crazy? You think those senior citizens in the front are going to agree to...' I had just started, when the senior citizens burst into song. Main shayar, toh, nahin....magarrr, ai haseen....

All of us laughed and joined in. Me and Rhythm had our own fun in the back, harmonizing with the tunes and even making mashups. We played off chords and made dark versions of lullabies, laughing quietly at the back; playing on both sides.

'Danish!' Nalin shouted from the middle. 'It's the letter T!'

I unleashed our secret weapon.

'Tanhayi tadpati hai...yaad tumhari aati hai...thandi thandi parvaayi...chhed ke mujhko jaati hai...' I strummed on the ukulele soulfully, and everyone lost it. When we came to the chorus, I was pretty sure even the driver was singing.

Espiderman, espiderman, tune churaaya mere dil ka chain, dekh ke tere kartab yaara mai to bangayi teri phan...

We had to stop there before the driver crashed the bus and ended everyone's suffering.

'Let's play Dumb Charades, people.' A war cry issued from the vehicle, and that was that.

'All right, people.' Yash assumed the role of team leader for us and started issuing instructions. 'Vedant, open the IMDB list for all B-grade Bhojpuri movies. Danish, start noting down all the obscure English movies you've watched. The rest of you - I'll explain the notations for articles, prepositions, rhyming words and places.'

'Mother Of God,' I whispered to Vedant. 'He's like some District Level Second Runner-Up in this.'

Those two hours were one of the most fun times I've ever had. Trash talk, catcalls, hilarious goof ups, raucous singing and movie titles that had us rolling in our seats; this part of our journey had brought all 28 of us together, despite our differences. We stopped when we'd exhausted even the C-grade list.

'One last game of Mafia? I want to be God.' Nalin asked. After some mumbling and grumbling, everyone nodded. Little did they know this was going to be the best game of all trips so far.

'Okay, but paying homage to the trend we started in Sharavati, we need to make a character based on the guide we had in this trip.' I reminded everyone.

'It'll be called Quicksilver, of course. What powers, though?' Shankar asked, chuckling.

'Oh, the Mafia can never kill Quicksilver. He or she can only be voted out or killed by the suicide bomber.' I thought out aloud.

Everyone murmured in assent, and we started off. Nalin was a very conniving God, and he gave himself some special powers, like the ability to randomly resurrect anyone, or make a special character called Bunty who could detect someone to be a villager and reveal it in the day - apart from his frequent 'Flash News'. This was going to be fun.

'City sleeps.'

After a huge faux pas from Ritu, who literally used the word 'we' when referring to the Mafia, she was voted out unanimously, in the first round itself. Then, things started to go downhill. As was my usual gameplay, I talked and debated a lot, posing scenarios and possibilities and timelines more screwed up than in the X-Men franchise. Pooja played brilliantly, remaining undetected till the very end. Yash delivered a deus ex machina to the game, when he revealed himself to be the suicide bomber and took Quicksilver down with him.

'Trends,' Nalin spoke ominously, in one of his Flash News. I pondered. Ritu, Surendra, Radhika, Priya, Nipun and Shankar had been voted out. And three of them were the mafioso. What could the pattern be? Or was he just messing with us, like always?

'Another Flash News. I don't like beards.'

I grunted and turned my thoughts elsewhere. He was messing around.

Soon, the entire village was in a quandry, not being able to figure out the rest of the Mafia. We voted out Deepti and Abhishek, and realized another Mafia was gone. Then the trend hit me.

'We've reached Bangalore, people. Game over. All girls were the Mafia.' Nalin announced and ducked, shielding himself from the insults and dirty socks.

Nipun was especially outraged. 'You said the Oracle was right, even when he was already dead.'

'I'll say whatever I want to,' Nalin threw back, still keeping out of sight.

The post-analysis went on for even longer than the game, even when people slowly started dropping out. We said our goodbyes to everyone, and started packing up. Finally, we all sat around, looking at each other, with smiles on our faces. It didn't matter if we never met or talked after this; in that moment, everyone knew each other.

Chapter - 10 : Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

I sat next to the driver, telling him the drop off points, while the others came to the front, reconciling themselves with Bangalore. People thanked me as they left, and as I hug and shook hands with them, it hit me how large a group this had been. 

'Thanks, pra. Everyone's saying it was amazing, and they want another one,' Anurag grinned, as he got down at Kalamandir. 

I smiled at him. Another one would happen soon enough. Once a wanderer, always lost. 

We dropped off Nelson and some others at Spice Garden. 'Pra, choose a really hard trek, and let's some 5-6 of us go. It'll be fun,' Nelson told me. 'You're soon going to be opening a startup.' 

I chuckled. It could actually work - every trip had been great, and people bonded effortlessly. I really needed to learn Kannada properly, though.

Soon, it was just me and Shankar at Kundanahalli Gate. We sorted out the expenses with our Dr. Jekyll of a driver, trying to bargain based on 'psychological trauma' because the bus had broken down (and sometime later, so had the driver). We had reached pretty early - it was only 9 pm. It did not feel like a trip had ended, as the previous three had always concluded with us walking on quiet roads under a midnight sky. 

After the payment, the bus roared off, as good as new, with still no license plate. 

'What was even wrong with the bus? Nothing changed. And I didn't even see this fancy computer they were saying our bus has.' Shankar mused.

'Plot twist: the driver was computerized.' I replied, and Shankar grinned.

As we entered our apartment, I remembered meeting the sky, staring into infinity, watching an endless sunset, and walking under the stars. 

Once a wanderer, always home. 

How far will you go to find yourself? 

You sit for hours with those you know, 

Or take a chance with strangers too,

All to answer - who is you?

Maybe they'll tell you who you are.

Maybe you should go somewhere far,

Somewhere, if everything is new,

The crunching earth, the whispering trees,

The gurgling water, whistling breeze,

The journey to you has begun.

Maybe it ends at a setting sun,

For there's no greater lesson learnt,

Than knowing everything will die,

But it is a birth in another sky. 

Maybe the sunset is a lie,

And you need answers from the night,

Maybe the stars and the fading moon,

Will tell you more than the afternoon.

But the starry night has passed so soon,

And you're standing where the sun will rise,

Maybe morning will sympathize.

But now I'm back on my way home,

And now there's no place left to roam.

The valleys, trees, the sun and the night,

The water, breeze - all our paths have crossed.

And they whispered but one small truth,

Not all those who wander are lost...

Photos, courtesy of Saurabh Dubey, Anurag Rastogi, Kowshik Kumar, Abhishek Malani, Rachana Kalidindi, Vedant Sapra, Abhinav Sethi and Vishnu Raveendran.


Anjana's Blog : https://anjlifeexperiences.wordpress.com
Vedant's YouTube Channel : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_-wTP-OKAF6HskDOqSeREw
Vedant's Instagram Page : https://www.instagram.com/vedantsapra/

TL;DR (February 23-25, 2018)

Costs:

1) Transport from Bangalore to Rajendra Homestay, Nittur: Hired a Preetham Travels 33-seater bus, Rs. 1026 per head, round trip.

2) Cost of Rajendra Home Stay (all meals, night stay and guide): Rs. 1000 per head. 

Itinerary:

1) Bangalore to Nittur: 11 pm bus - 9 and a half hours, overnight journey

2) Next day, trek to Kodchadri peak, via Hidlumane Falls: Started at 11 am. 1 and a half hour to Hidlumane Falls, 2 and a half hours more to lunch point, 2 hours more to Kodchadri peak.

3) Sunset at Kodchadri peak: Blissful.

4) Night trek on jeep trail, back down to Nittur: 3 hours - advisable only on full moon nights. 

5) Next day, visit to Nagara fort: Leave at 9 am, half an hour journey to the fort.

6) Nagara fort to Bangalore: 10 hours.

7) Bangalore to your homes: Sunday night traffic. Despair. 

Contacts:

1) Rajendra Home Stay: 09449145540