Call of the Wild

Jungle Safari is a word which, in my dictionary, was synonymous with Discovery Channel. A beautiful universe meant shrubs neatly trimmed, growing at equal distance from each other. All trees shedding their foliage, and blossoming, at the same time every year. And, maybe an occasional bright-hued bird I considered myself lucky enough to spot. Mother Earth was a store where I shopped for 'natural' and 'organic' products. Well, never ever had I imagined that all this while I have been gazing at something so superficial. That Nature, with all its majesty, grandeur and splendor, lies in the wild. 

Here, each tree is a different shade of green. Shrubs grow in unruly clusters. Flowers are flamboyant and loud in their colors. Sudden patches of barren land followed by heaps of dusty rocks end in a sparkling clear brook, equally sudden in its appearance as it gushes out of the mountains. Standing in an open-hooded jeep, wheezing past the jungle terrain, I am struck by the magnanimity of it all. I take in the fresh air heavy with morning dew & an unknown, strong fragrance fills my lungs. Strangely, I think of Mother as she steps out after her morning bath, half dried hair,  her moist skin against my cheeks, the smell of her body soap dense and thick around me. Divine. A smell which told me I am secure. I am pure. Deep inside the Chilapata forests, so dense that leopards are spotted regularly here, is this smell some kind of a mirage?

I tear myself apart from such lonely thoughts and look up into the sky. I see tall trees with no foliage at all. Only branches and offshoots towards the tip, spreading themselves as if singing a hymn in praise of gods. Vines compete with each other to twirl around their smoky gray trunks. Even the trees and shrubs growing nearby wear a brighter shade of green, as if in consolation to the lack of color of their counterparts.

Here in the wild, birds are more gallant in their flight, a sense of independence in their song. Their colors more vibrant, their demeanor so carefree. Why, even the occasional rhinoceros I spotted seemed so much relaxed and at ease, hardly bothered by my presence, except for an occasional disgusted look thrown towards me, an intruder. The lone leopard I spotted seemed so royal amidst the green canopy. The sight of humans did not irk it, or turn it ferocious. Calm and composed, it continued its afternoon siesta in the abandoned watch-tower.

This Jungle Safari makes me sit back and wonder - what made man leave this serenity, this beauty and adopt a life so dubious, so discolored, so ugly? And, in the process, chop the hands that have fed him all this long? Progress, they say. Is it progress that makes my retreat so tasteful, so refreshing? Would I have enjoyed the forests so much if I had not experienced the bustle of city life? Would i willingly give up my city life to take recluse in the peace and tranquility of the wilds? The answers are stark naked and painful. But true.