The month of December when winter has set in, dry leaves carpet the forest floor and trees stand naked stretching out their arms begging to be clothed in most parts of the country, the rain forests of the Western Ghats stand apart and wear a totally different look.
It is at this time of the year when rains have stopped, frogs have stopped singing their croaky notes, and when people get to step out of their houses with out umbrellas and rain coats at Agumbe. Agumbe, the Cherapunji of the South is truly a paradise on earth. It is in this paradise that I live in my own dreamy home. It is nestled amidst the thick wet rain forest, two kilometers away from the main road where vehicles zoom past.
My house pops out in that setting surprising both the inmates of the forest as well as civilization happening to venture deep. The front yard is a huge open field fenced by forests at its fringes, and the back yard is an areca nut plantation now grown all wild and adopted back by the forest.
Rain gods had finally folded their wings and retreated with their overbearing clouds for the next six months.
Tall trees with arching canopies wore a new, fresh and inviting look creepers and vines stretched their tentacles as far as they could reach, tiny grass and sprouting seedlings looked up with an enthusiastic grin. As if greeting a long lost friend everybody from the tiniest ant to the biggest cats looked up at the brightly shining sun. The forest was bustling with activity.
That afternoon I sat outside on the red oxide steps of my house basking in the warmth of the red roof tiles clearing some accounts. As the cool breeze scented with the smell of wet wood brushed against my face, the seemingly silent forest amidst which I sat suddenly seemed to wake up. A family of langurs, who usually are busy foraging on fruits and leaves snorted out fearful grunts, birds sang in trembling notes, I could notice the commotion at the far end of the field. This cacophony I understood were undoubtedly alarm calls. Alarm calls are nature’s plan to make the runners run faster, be it the prey or the killer. I was now all ears and eyes and focused in that direction. Considering that I was in the home land of King Cobras my natural expectation was the same. I kept looking at the ground for any signs of movement. The sounds grew louder and my heart was racing but I calmed down, for I knew that nature reveals herself only to those who have patience. Every minute was weighing me down.
Just as the sounds grew louder, silently crept out the most beautiful, magnificent, ornamented creature......it was a leopard.
I stood totally perplexed, bewildered, stunned and in total disbelief. The euphoria was just not containable. I stood motionless as if the time and my heart had frozen. Just 100m away from me was a creature all flesh and bones capable of reducing me into bones he walked stealthily with the most majestic gait. A shiny golden haze studded with carbon spots walked the stage showing himself off to the audience.
Considering that a leopard is an elusive and nocturnal animal that rarely come out in the open, his venture came as a delightful surprise. When at the middle of the field he suddenly turned and looked straight into my eyes. I lost all strength and felt weak at my joints. That moment between us felt like reviving a long lost connection. The fear and excitement was tearing me apart. I stood still while he sat down scanning the surroundings. I could feel my heart pounding as he gently got up and lifting his rich coat and velvety tail walked away.
He retreated back into his home and the conch on the other end started to blow (for alarm calls follow him where ever he goes). The jungle returned back to normal, but not me. I had lost my self, I could not utter a word, I was not even sure if I even blinked, felt like a worm wriggling devoid of bones. I lived a long cherished dream of sighting a leopard in the wild that afternoon.
A pull which brought me so close to nature only grew stronger with this experience.
Authors: Sharmila & Gowri Shankar