7 Reasons Why I Inevitably Head Back To Ranikhet To Recharge

August 4, 2014November 6, 2017 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ 6 Comments

Considering I live in Mussoorie, it sounds a bit irrational that I should seek another hilltop to escape to; but there’s something to be said for wanting to get away from it all and I find Ranikhet is the place for me. Here’s why.

1. There aren’t many places on earth I can see the Himalayan range from Bandarpunch in the Garhwal, spanning across Trishul, Nandadevi, Panchaculi, in Kumaon, all the way to Apa Nampa in Nepal. After a good dousing of rain, the clouds settle and the air gets wafer-crisp. That’s when the peaks start revealing themselves. I can’t begin to describe how dramatically the colour of the setting sun sets the ice-cream peaks aflame. Come September, right through February, you can see the whole range, dawn to dusk. Imagine that! It’s reason enough for me!

Himalayan range upclose — Himalayan range up close

Himalayan snow peaks behind the foothills

2. Connectivity is erratic. Which turns out to be a good thing since the idea is to switch off from the everyday onslaught of data. Going to Ranikhet feels like checking into a spa where without paying spa rates. With the exception of my camera, I travel light into Ranikhet and feel better for it when I leave.

Himalyan Babbler after a dunking — Himalayan Babbler after a dunking

A differnt hue of Himalaya — A different hue of Himalaya

3. I can enjoy the simplicity of pastoral scenes that are becoming rarer by the day. I know I’m in Ranikhet when I see women carrying enormous piles of grass on their heads and sickles in their waistband. Or visit smoky tea shops where the tea and ‘fen’ taste better for reasons I can’t quite pin down. I love seeing village girls neatly turned out in school uniforms, their hair plaited with red ribbons, cheerfully walking miles, to school. I enjoy the sound of cowbells as much as I like chatting with locals who treat me like an old friend even time I visit.

Women working the fileds in a Himalayan village — Women working the fields in a Himalayan village

4. Wildlife comes to me. I don’t have to pay an arm and a leg to enjoy nature. Jackals, foxes, martens, Sambar, Barking deer and Serows, pheasants and leopard have literally crossed my path. As a nature lover, I can’t help but spew rhetoric about being awakened by the sweet melody of whistling thrushes on my rooftop. Or sipping chai in my garden watching the sunlight bounce off the iridescent head of the Flowerpecker. Or listening to the Francolin clearing his throat before every call. And hearing a carpenter drill only to discover it’s a Yellow-naped woodpecker. Or check out the latest leopard kill on the golf course. And seeing a jackal and a Steppe eagle soaking in the winter sun side by side! Or following butterflies that look so exotic, it’s a miracle they aren’t extinct. Need I go on?

5. There is no home delivery. No Mc Donalds, Pizza Hut, or Café Coffe Day outlets here as yet. Definitely no malls. And yes, I’m grateful for the “unspoiled ” flavour of the place. There are any number of restaurants and a proper market; so one won’t starve for want of sustenance. For those of us who have homes here, our small soirees end long before city-wallas begin their nightlife.

6. Every house has a fruit tree, flowering pots or a vegetable patch. It could be the humble geranium in a rusty tin or the ‘kaddu’ drying on the rooftop; they make Ranikhet homely.

7. Not too many tourists. Funnily enough some of the reasons I love Ranikhet are the reasons why it’s not a popular holiday destination. Lucky for me!

Lifeblood of the hills. The coolies of Mussoorie

Prompt delivery thanks to Manoj and coolies like him

April 20, 2014April 18, 2016 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ 2 Comments

Ever since we moved to the meandering, steep slopes of Mussoorie, I’ve been wondering how anyone, let alone the Brits of yore, could survive the hills without the intrepid Nepali coolie. (Coolie is a corruption of the Tamil kuli=wage or wage worker) I moved here from Ranikhet and we don’t see so many coolies there though I am sure most other hill stations depend on them a great deal. Initially, I rarely noticed the Nepali coolies myself; they do tend to blend into the hillside. You could say, it was my indifference that made me not ‘see’. If you were to remove all these coolies from the hillside, life here would be another kettle of fish altogether.

Manoj, one of the nicest coolies on the hillside

I live on a hilltop, a good 45 minute-walk from the market. Hypothetically speaking, if I choose not to leave my home for a month I could get by just by ordering on the phone. The car doesn’t come to our door step. No prizes for guessing who delivers all my provisions, carries sacks of manure for my potted geraniums, the 1/2 quintal of chopped wood for my winter stove… Or worse comes to worst, carries me out on a stretcher if I fracture a leg and can’t walk. For crying out loud, the house I live in wouldn’t have been built but for these coolies carrying the foundation bricks on their backs. At the cost of sounding flippant, I like to think of coolies as the Flipkart of the hills; they deliver. Moreover, they’re far more efficient, their work, far more commendable. I confess I haven’t stood in a queue since I moved here or waited days-on-end for a gas-cylinder refill! If you’re thinking ‘hills’ for an healthy lifestyle, find a hillside without coolies. They make life too easy! Nepali coolies are the hardiest workers I’ve seen; virtually unstoppable. You’ll pass them digging road side trenches bare handed in the grips of our Mussoorie winter and getting soaked to the bone in our cold monsoon-rain for a bread and egg delivery. Despite the cards they’ve been dealt, I find Nepali coolies to be a cheerful lot. I don’t quite subscribe to the theory that being mountain people they have more RBCs than most of us and therefore, are genetically stronger. So what ails our local hilly-billies? Can someone check their blood count and tell?

It’s the attitude and not the altitude that makes the Nepali coolie indispensable. It’s no secret that migrants work harder. Some of these coolies come from remote villages in Nepal 3-4 days journey away from here. For what, you wonder? Every coolie-dependent business is flourishing. Yet, the coolies’ earnest simplicity hasn’t got them too far. They’re ignored till required, kept at arm’s length and left to their own fate. They carry 25-30 kg loads multiple times a day for 5-6 km uphill for peanuts! The rate per load/day probably hasn’t changed for years. What can we do to improve their lot? Acknowledge their existence for starters? Treat them as humans not mules? Realise their worth? What do you think?

12 cartons of milk, 1 tray of eggs, flour, butter 2 litres of oil, 5 kgs of rice et lots more. — 12 cartons of milk, 1 tray of eggs, flour, butter, 2 litres of oil et lots more.

The Body Language of Himalayan Langurs

January 29, 2014November 6, 2017 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ 2 Comments

Himalayan Langurs look almost human. You only have to observe them to see the similarities. It’s another matter Langurs behave a lot better than some people I know! They possess the intelligence to leave you alone if you let them be: and don’t normally steal your food or snarl as you pass by like the Rhesus do.

In fact, they seem to know to coexist with the different species that inhabit high altitude terrain unlike most of us; and as I discovered, will even pose for a photograph now and then. I find them fascinating but am no longer surprised by their good behaviour.

I found this "Meditating" Langur looking comfortable in a yoga pose He was perched on the deodar for the longest time looking like he hadn't a care in the world while his whole troupe was foraging in the trees below. — I found this “Meditating” Langur looking comfortable in a yoga pose He was perched on the deodar for the longest time looking like he hadn’t a care in the world while his whole troupe was foraging in the trees below.

Mama. Just another day in her Langur world! — ‘Mama’ Himalayan Langur. Just another day in her Langur world!

On a Rhododendron diet. The funny part was howhe/she was eating the flower petal by petal like it was a Michelin star dish to be savouring slowly. — On a Rhododendron diet. The funny part was how he/she was eating the flower a single petal at a time like it was a Michelin star dish to be savour slowly.

This little Langur was keeping watch perched on the ramparts of an old Portuguese fort called 'Cabo de Rama',in Goa last week. There were a bunch of them - like their Himalayan cousins...keeping to themselves. — This little Langur was keeping watch perched on the ramparts of an old Portuguese fort called ‘Cabo de Rama’, in Goa last week. There were a bunch of them – like their Himalayan cousins…keeping to themselves while keeping watch.

Langurs of the Plains — Langurs of the Coastal Plains

Marlon Brando of Dogs

July 25, 2013December 6, 2018 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ 1 Comment

I know.

Another dog blog!

Can’t help myself when it comes to these three mutts. The loves of my life – Chingoo, Kajal and Chokli.

[Unacceptable monkey-behaviour, according to Chingoo]

There are moments when Chingoo’s killer instinct surfaces and then he surprises us with his gentleness. Once a troop of 3understandsus monkeys decided to party on our tin roof, antagonizing the dogs to no end. I let them lose; Chingoo went berserk. Next thing I knew, he was pursuing the simians round and round the house with an infant monkey in his mouth; with me yelling “Drop it” in hot pursuit while wondering if the last Rabies shot I took was still valid. Things quickly turned around. It was the turn of the monkeys to act tormented. They screeched the place down and finally, Chingoo let go, of ‘baby-in-the-mouth’, without so much as a scratch. Reunited with their kidnapped ilk, the hysterical primates promptly did the disappearing act in a blur of grey.

[Chingoo and Kajal] Except for delivery guys, Chingoo takes kindly to humans. He used to take it upon himself to escort dog-friendly folk to their homes or on their walks. He returned home one day, brutalised, the bone on his leg showing through the wound and two of his teeth missing. He was pretty shook up by the experience and wouldn’t leave my side for days. It took him a while to get over his fear of people. Perhaps, ‘absolute’ freedom is not such a great scheme in the long run.

**[Kajal=Khol]**
The outlined eyes, part of Kajal’s genetic make-up that Chingoo inherited. Kajal is a gentle and elegant middle-aged lady who loves her creature comforts besides being the best rat catcher I’ve known to date. She catches and then releases the rodent, sparing it a torturous death and us from dealing with a gruesome carcass. Kajal’s winter fur is as soft as goose down, I often think how cool it would be to knit it into gloves. Collectively, our dogs shed enough to lace the air, our food, and every surface of our home. They would indeed make great gloves. If I only could harness it, instead of ingesting it.

**[Chokli as a pup]**
I found Chokli abandoned in a ditch on the hillside. Mistaking her yelp for a bird call, I whistled. I knew I had found a survivor when she crept out of a bush and yelped back a reply. I was instantly drawn to her hyena stripes, the glint in her bright beady eyes and the white ‘socks’ on her paws. She was one smart little stray. My husband called her a pocket edition. She may have been petite but she charged like a speeding bullet every time she saw a monkey, dog or cow. Fear was not part of her canine vocabulary. She baby-sat Chingoo when he was a pup and let him swing by her tail till he got heavier and bigger than her.

**[Chokli]**
Chokli was also way more alert than both Kajal and Chingoo. While they dreamt through the night; fluttering eyes, stirring paws et al, Chokli’s pointed ears would cock-up at the mere hint of a sound. She died prematurely because of a careless vet who overdosed her with antibiotics for a fungal paw infection. She is missed.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Himalayan_Sheepdog

http://mastiffdogssite.com/Himalayan-Sheepdog.php

Himalayan Wild Flower Rhapsody

July 18, 2013November 6, 2017 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ Leave a comment

Wild flowers from the Himalayan states of Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, Kashmir and Ladakh.

Some grow at 7000 ft while a few of these are alpine flowers that I came across on treks at around 12,000-14,000 ft.

Rhododendron. Locals make juice and jam with the petals

Fungi not flower but so pretty...wild mushrooms — Fungi not flower but so pretty…wild mushrooms on a rotting tree trunk.

Meconopsis; Blue Himalayan Poppy in the UBC Botanical Garden (jmeyersforeman.wordpress.com)

Wild Jackals In My Backyard

July 7, 2013November 6, 2017 ~ Lalitha Krishnan ~ 2 Comments

'Mama' Himalayan Jackal<br />Canis aureus indicus — ‘Mama’ Himalayan Jackal
Canis aureus indicus

When my son walked the dogs a few days ago, he spotted a pack of Jackals with pups. It has been raining incessantly. I wasn’t quite ready to battle the leeches and the cold Himalayan rain to check them out just then. When the weather cleared, I grabbed my camera and was lucky to see the ‘Mama’ with 4-5 pups frolicking in the shrubs like dogs do. The pups looked like they were a month or two old. They seemed oblivious to my presence and I watched them as long as I could…shooting movies and stills on my digital camera. Himalayan jackals here seem rather gentle. They never made a sound; perhaps this is survival tactic! Last year, we had three of them come right up to the path near our house and sit around looking perfectly at ease. My dogs (large Gaddi mixes) nearly broke our front door trying to get at them.

But then two nights ago, I heard pup-like, heart-wrenching cries that lasted a few seconds. All went quiet after that. Had the leopard got one of them? I hope not. I never spotted them again; I hope ‘Mama’ has moved them to a safer place.