NEIL ISLAND & THE QUINTESSENTIAL GOODBYE

ANDAMAN – 13TH- 14th Nov                                            

FROM HAVELOCK TO NEIL

A tug of heart bidding Havelock au revoir. But a traveller has to move on. Yesterday’s taxi service, Tiger Cabs send yesterday’s friendly driver, Ramesh for the drive to the Port. The thick vegetation, lush green forests, and the brazen deforestations visible off and on, like a bit of yin and yang, bikes and scooties on the winding roads, mid-morning tea drinkers at roadside stalls, all whizz past.

The international port arrives a bit too fast. The hoot of the passenger ship announcing its departure and the Havelock Island becomes a speck within minutes. It’s a 60 min journey to Neil Island ( Shaheed Dweep). Prabal waits at the arrival with his mode of transportation. It’s a half-day trip, the itinerary is long. There is no time to waste.

ITINERARY

Stop no 1 is Sunset Point at Lakshmangarh beach.

Prabal drops off at a point. “ Police will fine me if I go ahead”, he says apologetically. One wouldn’t have wanted to drive in, anyway. The road leading to the beach is a boulevard in itself. So quiet that a falling pin can be easily heard, the soft songs of feathery friends and the crunch of the footwear on the road are all that is there.

Silent, meditative, peaceful, save for a tea and narial paani shop owner and his pet dog. That is Laxmangarh beach, at least during the day. The long walk on the diamond-like white sands is therapeutic. The vastness of the sea, its loneliness, and the minuteness of humanity in comparison are so revealing. Perhaps evenings are not so tranquil and relaxing. It is said that excited visitors come by the hundreds to watch the mighty sun set for the day as it completes its daily cycle. But for now, it’s one with the sea, sand, and beach.

The meditative hypnosis of the sea has to be unwittingly broken. Time is running out. It’s off to Bharatpur Beach now, famous among other things for its glass floor boat rides. A busy and dynamic seaport, Bharatpur beach has it all. Fun rides, restaurants on the beach, boats- big and small, and a perfect vision of the international ships passing by on the horizon. A swim in the water though a tad bit disappointing is essential to complete the ‘to-do list’.

Uddhav Das, the skipper of ‘The Miracle’ is originally from Dighlipur. He is one for animated conversations. “Madam, meri boat mein ‘throw-up’ nahin karna, please,” he says in a very non-pleading manner. And then continues “aap Dilli se hain? Taj Mahal to dekhte hee rehte honge, Manali to jaate rehte honge?”, oblivious of a skewed geography. His wish list includes a visit to these places, his very own North Indian triangle, Delhi-Agra-Manali. The glass floor boat meanwhile loses fascination once it reaches far away from land. The sight of water, water everywhere is unnerving. The glimpses of several corals in different shades of nature, and schools of blue fish swimming along, are undoubtedly an exclusive dekko. But, choppy waters( though not all may agree), do spoil the party. “ Uddhav da , wapas chalein?” To this, he laughs and says “Itna expensive ticket khareeda hai. Thoda dekhiye to madamji.”

‘Jaan bachee. Ghar ka budhu wapas ghar aaya.’ The land never looked so lovely, so secure, so trustworthy. Getting back hold on oneself, and hunger pangs begin. Andhra restaurant is chosen and a scrumptious lunch is enjoyed under the shade of tall trees swaying to the sea breeze. Paper napkins, paper cups, scarves, and hair fly wildly in all directions. Ever-smiling cashier Jyotsana and her chef husband Dev run the business here. The equally smiling manager cum owner, S. Ganesha joins in serving, among other cuisines, some interesting beverages. Gollu, the community dog ventures for a few moments and then wanders off. He has to, after all, do rounds covering all diners. “Bow-wow… hope you are well. Some sharing will do me well.”

Prabal calls frantically. There is not much time left on the island. Finale destination calls. The Natural Caves of Neil Island. Also called Howrah Bridge. “I will be waiting here,” says Prabal as he parks the car by the roadside after a 10-minute drive. “ My friend will take you to the caves” he continues pointing to a waiting auto. A 5-minute ride costs 200/-. The auto driver swirls the wheels to a halt at the foot of several stone steps. It seems an archaeological past has just arrived. As the huff and puff of climbing up get completed, there begins a walk on an undulated land. Partly forested, and partly agricultural, this unique land distinctively feels like a walk in medieval times.

Guide Pranav meets somewhere along the tarpaulin shops selling reasonably priced knick-knacks, most made from shells. Necklaces, bangles, earrings, purses, et al. Pranav ensures that the sense of adventure continues as he leads a walk on dead corals to cross the shallow water and reach the caves. A feeling most eerie envelops.

The natural caves turn out to be mountains which over years of exposure to the elements of nature have cut themselves and are now in the shape of a gateway. 2 gateways are ready and the 3rd Pranav explains confidently should be ready in a thousand years or so. This will definitely require another trip to mother earth with ample rest time in between, somewhere deep in the Universe.

At one spot where the water is clear, Pranav conjures, as if by magic, two packets of Parle-G biscuits. He dips some of them in the water as a fascinated audience watches. And voila, a school of zebra fish rushes to the biscuits. They finish off the packets within a minute or two. The fame and flavor of Parle –G undoubtedly go beyond humans.

CHANGEABOUT

Auto-reverse begins. The walk over corals and shallow waters, the climb of the stone steps, the walkthrough medieval landscape, then down the final stone steps, a namaste to and from Pranav, a 5-minute auto drive followed by a 10-minute Prabal drive, and then the port, the passenger ship, the hoot announcing departure and 90 minutes later arrival at Haddop Wharf, Port Blair. Thiru, as promised is waiting. It’s the last night at Port Blair, to be spent near Corbyn Cove. A walk on the beach. Memories of a rain-soaked visit a few days ago are relived.

A HARRIED MANAGER TRUDGING ALONG & AN AIRLINE’S BETRAYAL

‘Ladies are requested to not enter the reception and dining area in night suits and pyjamas.’, a stern warning is posted on the information board. The weary hotel manager must have reached his wit’s end to have sent this admonishment. Next morning at breakfast though his fears come true. A flowing night dress here, a furry pyjama there. Who can beat the empowered brigade?

With a bit of panic, the ultimate morning dawns. A 4:00 am message is read about 2 hours later. “Dear passengers. We regret to inform you that your flight has been cancelled.” Well, being regretful doesn’t solve the issue. Thiru had mentioned in a conversation one evening ago that the airport is being shut down for 5-day maintenance. This could only mean an extended stay at Port Blair or booking another flight. Finally, after some anxious moments befitting a Bollywood movie a logical conclusion is reached. Thiru while driving to the airport later that afternoon takes this information casually. “This happens here all the time.” he smiles, brushing aside any further conversation.

FAREWELL

The dynamism of the airport dims the trepidations of the morn. Many co-passengers at the airport now seem like old acquaintances, having been bumped into somewhere, someplace in this adventure. A silent nod here and there acts as an acknowledgment. And then the journey back to the world left behind for some time begins.

This time it’s Port Blair- Bangalore ( having replaced Vizag) -New Delhi.

Tomorrow will be the usual, commonplace day again. But right now, it’s still the Andaman soil, encompassing all its experiences, holding on to all its memories forever.

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