Rafting

Visualize the boat's brow cutting through the swirling, surging water; the sun sparkling on the frothy waves, making tiny rainbows; the abrupt lurch of the craft, as the surging waves suddenly shift direction. The adrenalin is pumping, all senses alert, with nature working overtime to orchestrate a thrill you'll never forget. That's what most people think a raft trip entails, but there's much more going on. Your connection with the other rafters forms a matchless adventure that won't be forgotten.

Rafting down the Kundalika River on the rushing from Kundalika Valley near Tamhini, down towards Konkan strip is exciting - no doubt about it. It combines thrilling rapids with quiet stretches, where rafters can take in the spectacular mountain scenery and deep forests. Their mental cameras capture images that will be studied over and over later, once they return home.

There's one thing even more crucial than the water for making your adventure tour a treasured event. It's the other people. Some you bring along, like family, friends or group. You may think you know each other already, but the time spent on the river forever alters the way you'll relate back home. That's the real pay-off from a wilderness adventure. The guides and other rafters also play essential roles in the total experience.

Unlike taking a bus or a train, the goal isn't to arrive at the destination. Instead, getting there is ALL the fun. So there's no hurry. Everyone along plays their part in moving the boats, and reacts to what the river throws at them. Each person needs to develop their sense of teamwork and reliance on each other. The emotional exhilaration amps up even more because of the sharing involved. Facing physical challenges together builds trust and confidence in each other, in a matter of hours.

Scientists have discovered that the intensity of an emotional experience permanently alters the way a person remembers it. Emotionally charged experiences are filed differently in the brain than everyday ones are. Later, they're recalled with vivid detail, without losing clarity over time. Recalling even a small part of the event brings the full force of experience back. That's why they're called "flashbulb memories."

When people go through such powerful experiences together, they relate to each other in new ways. It's certainly a step away from their day-in, day-out routines. That's a major reason why a wilderness adventure like whitewater rafting does more for those who take the trip than a casual vacation would. They develop new ways to relate to nature and each other. Rafters tell me they arranged the trip to get away from the TV and the cell phone. But they're pleased to find that the river is the tonic for much of what's stressful for them.

Even when they get home, those newly-forged ways of relating influence the way people treat each other. Without exception, they find the experience delivered in ways that they hadn't expected. I'm often told that what they experienced during whitewater rafting was the highlight of their vacation.” We visited all the other attractions, we saw all the sights. Nothing comes close!"

The benefits that rafters receive don't stop when the trip is over. We've all heard the phrase about walking a mile in someone else's shoes. That does help to understand the experiences of others with fresh awareness. But I think that greater value comes in understanding yourself better. To step into someone else's shoes, you must temporarily step out of your own. That breaks a lot of habits and familiar assumptions. Then when you return to your own shoes, you can see aspects of your life that you usually overlook because they're so unbroken.

Taking a wilderness adventure is a walk in another pair of shoes. And those people who shared that intensely emotional adventure with you took the same mind-stretching trek. That stays with you for the long haul.

Hike

Why I Love Hiking And Just About Anything Outside?................
In an article I was reading the author was asked why he hikes, so being a passionate backpacker I thought I needed to answer this question for myself. My family has asked me this very same question. Some of them think I am crazy, (and the rest of them know I am) they just don't understand why, why I enjoy carrying weight on my back and sleeping in a tent and walking for miles, sometimes in not the best of weather to do such. So, I thought for a second and the answer didn't come that easily, so I thought some more and some more and came up with my response.
 

For one thing, I love the outdoors, anything outdoors. If you give me a choice of going to a concrete ridden theme park or to go hit a trail, the trail would win hands down. Also, if you give me a choice of staying at a 5 star hotel or sleeping in my tent, my 5 star tent would win hands down. I also, truly love camp breakfasts, trail lunches, and camp dinners, to me they taste better than going out for restaurant. The simple fact that I can eat whenever and wherever and of course, whatever. No schedules to keep, no timetable as it is in our concrete jungle, I can explore at my own pace, without any particular schedule, no deadlines, no phones, no worries, hike my own hike, be carefree.
 

Another reason I go into the wilderness is for escape: escape from busy highways, escape from crowded shops, and escape from time. When you hike, you forget track of time. And isn't it nice to forget time for a little while? I enjoy knowing that the only thing I have to accomplish in the wilderness is to let my mind run free.
 

My curiosity makes me anxious to see what is around the next bend or up the next hill, and it doesn't matter how many times I do the same hike…. every time it is different. Then there is always the adventure that keeps me coming back for more. The simple fact that these great places can only be seen by foot. I enjoy the challenge of getting to a certain place by my own means. It is worth every step, every ouch, bug bite and any other discomfort along the way just to know that they will soon be forgotten, with the first aah or wow (view). The views from the top of Konkan Kada or from the bottom of the Sandhan Valley were incredible and what was really satisfying about the whole trip was the fact that I made it up there with my own feet.
I hike for the views, the ones that can sometimes take your breath away, such as, watching the cloud’s play as the open and close the curtains over the peak or eating lunch on the side of the mountain, so high in the sky with the hawks souring at eye level, and then flying down below (I think they were showing off). You can never get these great views from the concrete jungle most of us call home. The only way to experience this perfect feeling of awe and aah is to hike it.
 

Furthermore, I love listening to and hopefully seeing the many animals (or signs of them) and creatures of the forest. I am thankful to them for sharing their homes with me. I love the flowers and the trees that surround me. I love the smell of the woods, the dirt under my feet, (and on my body) the sound of the crunch from leaves as you walk, the sounds of the animal and the overwhelming feeling that I have when all of my senses are being enlightened.
 

One of the most important reasons I love to be outdoors is that I like to share these experiences; with the people (i.e. my family and friends) I like. Because of sharing these experiences we all grow closer and closer. We develop a bond that can not break ever. Only those individuals will know what I am talking about when remembering these special times. Only Hrishikesh and I will be able to remember the trail at Tanaji Sagar Backwaters…from Panshet upto Thangaon and knowing that when we return to trek it again (and we will) it will be a totally different trek. He is the one who knows which trek I am referring to when I mention the ‘Potato Barbeque’. When mentioning it, all our memories will bring us back to that particular trek. Only Adhishri, will know why I call Amit as a ‘Long Distance Sprinter’. I like the way Sameer sees the things differently than I do and also sees the things that I would totally miss if it weren't for his pointing them out. I like the look on his face when he finds a new discovery. I like the way Amit runs ahead of me….and I follow him…Tired and helpless. I like the way sometimes Shrijeet hikes up ahead and doesn't complain about much. I like the way he sits waiting for me and sitting generally in the middle of the trail. I like going anywhere with Hrishikesh and sharing all experiences with him. I like the way Sachin catches the Venoms and scares us….I like watching him sit near lake for whole night as he waits for wildlife to come. I like the way I fight with Amit in the tent when it is freezing cold out. I like the fact he will walk miles….. Just for me. I love sharing my life (trail and concrete) with all these people. These people are worth…...
 

I like to talk with these people sitting on top of mountains formed in the last ice age with a view stretching for country miles. How the clouds slowly approach against the backdrop of blue while the trees sing when a gentle breeze blows through them. How when we lay under the stars at night, feel a peace that can’t be explained. How just before dawn, the air is the purest we ever find? We take a deep breath of the cool morning air and settle back to watch the glowing sun wake over the next mountain. These experiences can make me feel so inferior and such a small part of existence.
 

So the original question is why do I hike? For me it was not an easy question to answer, and I couldn't answer it with only one phrase, such as I love the outdoors, it goes beyond words, it's the feelings and the views and the enjoyment of spending time with the people that I love and sharing these experiences with them. The bear went over the mountain, what do you think he saw? Well, I don't know the answer to this very old question, but as long as my feet will take me there I intend to keep going up those mountains and around every possible bend to see.

Breath

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you...whole cares will drop off like autumn leaves”. These words from John Muir describe why myself as modern urbanite desire to be in the natural world.

Deciding to follow a nature-based religion if you live in the midst of a city can be a challenge. People who live in farms or in jungles can often step outside and immediately be in contact with the Mother Nature. But those of us who are surrounded by concrete jungle and live shoulder to shoulder with neighbors must make hard efforts to ignore the daily business and routines to feel the rhythms of the Great Mother Nature pulsing throughout the years.

Despite living in one of Pune’s most urban area, I am fortunate enough to live close to what I consider one of the State’s most impressive "monuments": Sahyadri Mountains. Outskirts of the city. Mulshi and Velhe taluka. Each has a very special significance to me.

From my door, you can ride 40 Kms into a huge patch of (Proposed) Mulshi Wildlife Sanctuary…..an integrated part of Mulshi Backwaters.

There are many things I have been able to do and learn in this region that I never would have thought possible inside the city. I've sat beneath mango tree and used it to plot the path of the sun over the course of the day. I've wandered over the hills, finding vistas where one can see only an occasional house, and imagining how Pune was in the days when the land was owned by the wind and the rain. And I've explored flora and fauna: No of flowers, butterflies, insects, eagles, hawks, deer, rabbits, peacocks and—once—a red fox. I know the paths through the forest almost better than I do the streets surrounding my urban area. So I am more fortunate than any other urbanite—I do have a private wilderness that I can find any weekend.

Despite my bond with this particular piece of landscape, there is a huge swaddle of engineering occupation and business in my life which restricts me from visiting the region everyday. Ideally when I look for the natural world, my eyes look for the virgin places, untouched by the urban people. Furthermore, I do not have access to pristine natural areas like those shown in the pages of National Geographic. How can I connect to the natural word while being in the city? While being at the workplace?

The answer is, in reality, quite simple. I get connect with the nature that is present in front of my eyes. This holds true wherever I go and stay.

I Begin by grounding and centering myself. I close my eyes and begin concentrating on breathing, in and out. Realize that with each breath, the molecules that make up the air are moving in and out of my body. The small bird whistling on the tree above breathed these same molecules moments ago. Before that, the same tree had breathed them. Before that, they were carried on the wind from far away, where they had been the breath of mighty river in the remote mountains. Or perhaps, the breath of the ravine from where the river was originated. I continue tracing those molecules back…. and then the leaves or blades of grass the molecules have traveled through on their journey. I realize that I am, and will always be, inseparable from the natural world around me.

I open the eyes and look in the air. Watch the birds fly from tree to tree. Connecting downtown with suburbs, with outskirts, with remote mountains. I feel the breeze deep inside. It carries the joy of wilderness.
I've begun to understand my city in a new way. Instead of seeing concrete and glass, I notice the weeds along the road. I look out of my window at work and see, not the jammed traffic and shopping malls, but the distant mountains, Singhgad and Torna. I notice the sun and the clouds, the moon and the stars. And my struggle to see life through the eyes of the Earth Mother has, for me, transformed this city of concrete and steel into a life-celebrating, sacred wilderness.

The beauty of the visualization allows me to reconnect with nature wherever and whenever I happen to be. It also strips away all of the perceived barriers between the natural world and urban life. The only thing I can do is to breathe……

The Pilgrimage

“It was in the centre of several sacred places, an impregnable fortress in a rich well - watered country. Invitations were sent to all the chiefs and subjects and to every teacher and priest. Reception and dinning rooms were decorated with silk and brocade and was carpeted and lined with velvet. The ceiling was rich satin with gold lace. The throne platform was covered with a rich cloth of gold, and a gilt post was fixed in each corner… Rich and tastefully decorated canopies were raised in the hall for princes and chiefs…” These extract from one of the British Diary exults an account of preparations for the coronation of the Maratha leader Shivaji Maharaj on June 6th 1674, at the hilltop fort of Raigad.

Perched at a height of 2,851 feet, with sheer scarped sides and spreading summit, Raigad had been a prized possession since ancient times. Adding to its physical attributes, it was also perfectly located with the Deccan plateau to the east, the Konkan strip running along the Arabian Sea to the west and with trade routes in proximity. Furthermore, although formidable in size, contours and access, Raigad remained indiscernible as it stood amid rugged topography. With these enviable strategic features, the hill top turned into a trump card that changed hands between rulers of Vijaynagar, the Deccan Sultans, Mughals, Adil Shahis and Siddis, till Maratha King Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj wrested it in 1656.

Once in his grasp, the Maratha leader knew it was the best base to cement his rule in the Deccan. With his tough, sure-footed, trustworthy friends, he had long learnt about the hills, plains, their people and rhythm of life. Nurtured by his religious mother JijaMata, his guardian Dadaji Konddev and spiritual mentor Swami Ramdas, Shivaji Maharaj was thrust into the complex machination of politics at a very young age. In 1647 at the age of 20, with the passing away of his guardian, arrest of his father and his property taken by Bijapur’s commander, the young Shivba was left with no option but to assume a leadership. It was time for him to give the Marathas their own kingdom and capital, to knit them into one identity, to be an undisputable and dependable leader in their hearts and minds as well as shoulder the responsibilities he had carved out for himself.

For this, Shivaji Maharaj turned to Raigad and in 1662 he transferred his capital from Rajgad to Rairi and later renamed it as Raigad or Royal Fort. That intense construction under superlative, well managed supervision if Maratha Architect – Hiroji Indulkar commenced of royal, residential and official buildings, we know only from records and ruins. Yet these are adequate to construct an image of glory of the Maratha Capital during Golden Years of Shivaji Maharaj’s last 16 Yrs. Palaces, offices, a mint, granaries, towers, magazines, 300 stone houses, a vast organized bazaar and water tanks apart from fortification that still remained formidable, were constructed. The mantra “Easy for friends, impossible for foes” underscored the construction of Raigad’s solid walls and bastion, its winding ascent and sinuous gateways.

Two inscriptions are clearly visible at the Jagdishwar Temple. One at the wall of the premises and other at the footstep of the temple. Both are in Modi Scripts. The footstep reads – “Seveche Thhai Tatpar – Hiroji Indulkar” meaning ‘Always at your (king’s) service – Hiroji Indulkar’. Shivaji Maharaj ordered Hiroji to inscribe his name anywhere on the fort so that coming generation will remember the great architect and his superb architecture, and Hiroji chose the right place of the footstep of the temple. Other inscription is known as Shivapatrak and it states the Architectural Glory of the fort and then says ‘May the richness and royalness of the fort remain untarnished till Sun and Moon remain in the skies.” This inscription is in Sanskrit language.

And yet the fortification tells interesting incidents : Chor Darwaja reminds us that when the defenses were completed, Shivaji Maharaj announced a bag of gold and a gold bracelet for anyone who could reach the summit and affix a flag there. A young man made an ascent and was promptly rewarded. And then Hirkani Burj (Bastion) tells us of the milkmaid who had climbed to the fort to sell milk, was delayed and reached the fort gates after they had been closed for the night. The guard refused to open them for her, and as her desperation grew to reach her infant at home, she scrambled down in the darkness along a precipitous path. Her escape inevitably reached to the King’s ears and a bastion was built at the vulnerable point, which has since been called by her name.

By 1664 people in the Deccan – Konkan region had undoubtedly accepted Shivaji Maharaj as their Kind and his place was no less than god in their hearts. King Shivaji struck coins in his name and took control of governance from Raigad, 10 Yrs later he was forced by people, state officials and mother to ascend a throne and to declare himself sovereign king of the Maratha Kingdom. An auspicious date was chosen for coronation and the fort summit hummed with elaborated preparations for the event. 6th June 1674…. Under spiritual blessings from Vedshatri Gagabhatt, Shivaji Maharaj with a gem-encrusted arch in hand, ascended a throne – a gold canopy fringed with pearls and the state umbrella. Soon later guns were fired, and, as arranged before every fort in the kingdom joined in salute, passing it from one to the other. Fireworks blazed, music sounded and every heart in the kingdom screamed out of joy – “Maharajadhiraj Kshyatriyakulavatansa, Sinhasanadhishwar, Gobramhanpratipalak, Hindaviswarajyasansthanpak, Rajmanya Rajshree, Shrimant Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj” meaning ‘King of kings, cream of fighters, throne ascender, guardian of cows and bramhins, founder of hindu kingdom, great king Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj’

Shivaji Maharaj officially became king and adopted a title Chhatrapati.

Soon after the coronation, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj rode an elephant carriage, to the Jagadishwar temple to pay his respect, flanked by his warriors, and followed by his state officials, officers, the state banner and the golden streamers carried on elephants, other ensigns and flags, war elephants, cavalry….followed by infantry, swordsmen, spearmen, archers, gunners….followed by camels, musicians, drummers, horses of the city police and other – the entire procession moving through the fort to cheers of the crowds. Apart from his own people, Maharaj also met English Ambassador – Henry Oxenden, who presented Shivaji Maharaj with a diamond ring as a token of honor and received a robe of honor in return.

Raigad continued as the Maratha capital till Shivaji Maharaj’s death in 1680, and fittingly his Samadhi (memorial) stands here, in a citadel he built and loved, in the heart of the hills. Though only 53 when he died, in his life and in the forts he built across the coast, on islands and in the Deccan, he filled the Marathas with a deep pride for their motherland. The sentiments lived on to send them forth across vast stretches of India, so much so that the same people, who were relatively unknown before the 17th century, had emerged at the forefront of national politics by the end of the 18th Century.

In 1818 Bajirao Peshwa II sent his wife to Raigad guarded by its tough garrison that included Marathas, Arabs and Pathans. Yet, a relentless assault by British Artillery inflicted a fatal blow to the summit as its palaces, homes and towers fell ruined. Still the Peshwa’s wife held as long as possible, and as Col Prother and his Infantry entered the palace they found her “seated in her robes and state jewels, in the old palace, among burning beams, ashes and all the horrors of fire.” She was escorted to safety with elephants, camels and hundred men, while English took possession of the fort, its treasure of five lakhs of rupees and left it to fade away. The royal fort was completely destroyed and then owned by the wind, rain and shrubs. But LokmanyaTilak fortunately recalled its glory as he awakened a consciousness within the people of the region, a pride in their past and a quest for an independent India.

Later in an archeological excursion, ashes of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj were found under his Samadhi. These ashes were reburied in full honor and new canopy was raised over it. The great king is still asleep at the place just outside the Jagadishwar temple. His trustworthy architect Hiroji’s carved inscription – “Always At your Service” is in front of the Samadhi and the statue of King’s faithful dog is looking at the Samadhi. One can actually feel the very soul of the fort at this place in full moon night. Sitting at this place in such a milky night, one can rewind the spectrum of Maratha’s glory. The soul of the fort unwinds the spirit of Maratha Warriors who fought at the place and one can truly understand the meaning behind the lines from Bhagvat Gita – “How can a man die better than facing his fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers and temples of his gods”

The songs of coronation, battle cries and the crackling of burning homes are long faded away, but the King’s memories live on. Away from Raigad, artist paint his image, sculptor cast his form in bronze, poet and play writers pen his glories and children create mud forts. Three Hundred and forty years after Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj’s reign, Raigad continues to inspire national pride, a sense of identity as well as adventure and arts. One can not ask for more.