Diary 10 : Grand Canyon of West Bengal : Gangani

                        If you were to glimpse at the picture above , maybe even for a split second, you would have been transported thousands of kilometers away to the Grand Canyon of USA. And once there, you could wish to stay and marvel at one of nature's finest masterpieces ever created. Or else, you could come back to reality and witness a similar land form, closer home. For those returning back, Gangani, tucked away in the Garhbeta region of West Midnapore district of West Bengal, can happily satiate your wanderlust.

Once infamous for Maoist activities, the entire region has been off the tourists' map for the past decade. Lately most of their activities have ceased and slowly, it is on its way to becoming one of most preferred weekend destinations near Kolkata. Located approximately 180kms away from Kolkata, Gangani, till date remains one of West Bengal's best hidden jewels, just waiting there to be explored.

Winter is probably the best season to get lost in the canyons. And if you are lucky enough to get caught in a slight December(you can hope for a depression) drizzle, the greenery shrouding the red earth structures present a sight to behold. The earth is visible in different hues of red, which accentuate the presence of erosion. It feels as if you can travel way back in time and witness the erosion by a mighty river(Silabati), aided by the howling winds.

              

                       This beautiful canyon has stood the test of time. It finds place in one of the greatest epics : The Mahabharata. As the legend goes, this entire land was under the rule of a fierce monster named 'Bakasura'. ;Bheem', our protagonist had slain 'Bakasura' and freed the poor villagers from his evil clutches. Epics and history don't always go hand in hand. Sometimes there are conflicts about the origins of a particular place. For instance, once Siharuddin Bugrasah, the son of Samaduddin Firoj Shah, the erstwhile ruler of Bengal had occupied this area. Hence, this was named Bagri after him. 

                       

                       A regular tourist won't get into a conflict. Instead he would rather conclude that both 'Bakasura' and Siharuddin had fantastic tastes since they both occupied such a marvelous landscape and ruled over it!

                       If it's an overcast day, and her only grandchild has skipped school to stay with her and their two cows, you can hope to meet this old woman. She is as ancient as the land itself and she will be happy to enthrall you with tales of 'Bakasura' and 'Bheem'. Those stories might induce laughter and disbelief in us, encapsulated within our city walls.But if you decided to give a little time to the canyon growing on you, visualizing the battle scenes will be child's play.

                      

                       Here's her grandchild and that's his idea of bunking school. His favorite past time ? Weaving stories around the bends of the river interlaced with the steep gorge.

                       

                       The beauty of Gangani lies in it's ability to camouflage itself well with the surrounding hills and hillocks. In some angles, it feels as if the canyon goes on endlessly, merging with the horizon. The greenery complements the Red-Yellow soil combination of the canyon walls turning it into a delight for the eyes.

                      The whole landscape manages to evoke a sense of yearning deep inside one's mind. As you try hard to look back in time in your quest to trace the origin of such a magical place, you are left intrigued by the past. And all the forces of erosion and creation join hands to paint a picture of a long forgotten world. A world which you long to be a part of. A world where freedom had no boundaries. And today, you can't help but stand mesmerized by the sheer grandeur of the canyon, bathed in the kind of an afterglow, we used to trust, back in our childhood. 

P.S. Here's a tribute to my amazing team, without whose support, Gangani wouldn't have been ticked off from my bucket list.

L-R : Me, Somok Da, Santanu Da, Aritra and Nilabrata. (We appear tiny against the facade of 'Bakasura's Cave')

P.P.S We achieved quite a feat that day by covering 450 kms through rain, dirt, red soil and asphalt on our beloved motorcycles. Kudos to the men and their machines !

Diary 6 : Santiniketan : A Spring Fantasy

Souls, without the magic of Colours find it terribly difficult to survive. And that's why Rabindranath Tagore, the most colourful wordsmith ever, started the tradition of celebrating the arrival of Spring with Colours. Thus the "Basanta Utsav"(Spring Celebration) was conceived. And it was carefully nurtured with the choicest of Spring Colours so that it could evolve into a global Festival because people all over the world need colours. Not to survive, but to live.

Such a riot of Colours need a place to mix and create many more loving hues. For this festival, the place chosen was Santiniketan. Translated into English, it reads the Abode of Peace. So when colours meet in the Abode of Peace, chaos follows close behind, upsetting the gray and dulled souls, pushing them into a journey that sends out a cloud of colours of cosmic proportions up in the air as a celebration of their union.

The Abode of Peace : Santiniketan '15

Shantiniketan, with its distinctive character and style, decks up for the Spring Festival ('Basanta Utsav') in a remarkable floral way whose chief ingredients are the 'Palash' and the 'Fagun Bou'. The flowers heap mounds of colours on the otherwise red soil of the Rarh region of West Bengal.

'Palash'

'Fagun Bou'

As Nature readies herself, her people rehearse for as long as a month to make the festival a resounding success. On the eve of Basanta Utsav, a musical night is staged at the University grounds.

Sitars, Sarods, Tablas and Harmoniums together make up the perfect Spring ambience which is pierced by strong vocals of the performing artists.Since it is the beginning of March, there is still a slight chill in the evening air which makes a cup of tea or coffee seem even more inviting. The local Chai-wallahs make brisk business as they go over to fulfill cups, which sometimes spill over with chit-chat about the next day's schedule.


The Morning Baitalik 

The early morning air with the essence of Spring, greets people as they rush to take their postions along the fence that has been put up along the 'red' road. Rabindranath Tagore had taken this route to to herald the arrival of Spring, followed by his students at the Viswa Bharati University. His way of welcoming the season has stood the test of time and even to this day, people abide by it. A procession starts from the 'Ghantaghor' and slowly makes it way to the University grounds.

As with all festivals, the rush hour happens just before the main event. And Basanta Utsav is no exception. The rush is most quintessentially felt amongst the young guns who are all brimming over with excitement and trepidations.

With the eternal lines of the bard's song, " Khol Dar Khol , Laglo Je Dol ", the procession begins. It is indeed unique as it is led by the youngest batch of students enrolled at the 'Ashrama'. Tiny-tots taking energetic and boisterous strides, sometimes mistaking the dance steps but making it up with their toothless grin and enthusiastic eyes !

Their teachers are quick to point out their wrong footings and are adept in damage control. Even spacing becomes crucial when too many little ladies and gentlemen engage in the most prolific form of a dance that has transcended the boundaries of race and culture. Choreography and human error never felt this beautiful before.

Two steps behind them, the seniors continue the procession with colourful sticks (similar to 'Dandiya' sticks) that clash against each other, adding a certain rhythm that reverberates jubilantly. Their steps are perfectly synchronised and it is pure joy to observe their expressions from such a close range.

Their graceful movements coupled with the sonorous
songs of Spring together make up the most beautiful way
to set the pace of the festival. Be it by humming or lip-syncing, people blend in cheerfully and Tagore's dream of achieving a cultural harmony through song and dance comes true.
Time and time again.

After the procession makes its way into the grounds, the festivities begin on stage. With each song and dance sequence, the 'Celebration of Spring' comes alive. The crowd is totally oblivious of a fierce March Sun as the performers captivate the visual and the auditory senses of the audience. Tagore's Spring songs usher in an atmosphere of brotherhood, love and beauty while the world blends into a huge palette of colors that can rival the greatest rainbows..

The last song on the playlist comes up and with the words "Rangiye Die Jao Jao " filling the air, cloudbursts of colored powder (abheer) shower upon the people. Humans in all shapes and sizes, caste and religion, race and creed throw the Abheer up, up towards heaven. And they come back enveloping the world in a colorful protective dome which far exceeds the perimeter of Santiniketan and Tagore's way of uniting people through a common love for colors shines forth brightly like never before.

Abheer smearing happens immediately, punctuated by the steady lyrics of the song. Colours find their way into the unlikeliest of places - the tiny crescent shaped region behind the ears, eyebrows, innocent nostrils and even inside those hearts which open their doors to the world. Humanity lets itself get smudged by the brightest hues of abheer.

 It's just as the bard had predicted, a century ago - "Rong Jeno Tor Morme Lage". Translation renders : "Let the colours touch your souls...".
Indeed it has touched ours. In the most divine way.