On Rohidas Gaekwad: Part One- Reaching Jaitapur
Five and a half years ago, while wandering in the Sahyadris, near a place called Jaitapur- I met Rohidas Gaekwad.
Some people do not have anything remarkable about them, but- the sheer conviction with which they form their world view and the sheer confidence with which they view themselves … I must have, in my lifetime, brushed across many a Rohidas Gaekwad but life did not give me any chance to know them beyond their outwards appearance, till I met him.
I will never know as to how I landed in Jaitapur at the first place… as I have always said that traveling offbeat and at a shoestring, always opens up a diverse experience…which a person would not get if he was tucked away in a comfortable corner of a starred hotel by a reliable tour operator. These experiences are both bad and good, and I am willing to suffer ten such bad experiences for a good one.
It all started in Pawas, a quaint little town in Ratnagiri district- and abode of Swami Swaroopanand, where I spent one night in the Ashram's dharamshala- and thereafter in the morning wanted to move southwards towards any place- having no idea of what will be in store.
Earlier during the wandering, I did the same at Velneshwar (famous for its old Shiva temple) and Hedvi (Lokmanya Tilak's birthplace) and had a frightening experience, when I was stranded in a forest with a creek in front of me… luckily, I saw a boat and urged for help… I was rescued by one Ninad Sawant, personnel of Mumbai Police and a resident of Jaigad- who was holidaying and going back to Jaigad after purchasing fish from a nearby village. But as a result, I saw a beautiful fort of Jaigad, spent one of the most memorable nights in the Fort rest house and the morning next saw Malgund…. a beautiful village that is the birthplace of poet Keshavsut. Now if I had not taken these chances, there was a remote possibility that I would have done the same….in the normal course of events, I would have reached Ganapatipule and spent a night over there and rest would have been lost.
When leaving Pawas, the only handy information I had at hand was that south of Pawas is the fort of Purnagad… and I wanted to see it before venturing anywhere further south.
Pawas is on the banks of a beautiful river of Gautami… and in the morning I just sat on one of its banks, watching the scenery around… there was something very spiritual about the place. I sat there for hours together and then lay down a newspaper and slept on it. (I carry a lot of old newspapers while traveling and use them as disposable bed sheets… sleeping bags are too bulky and are not all that interesting… in fact one of the most interesting things a person can do is read old newspapers and try and relate it with the expanded information one has about the event reported in it, since it was first reported. In my childhood, I remember having my daily quota of Jalebis and Samosas in Allahabad on small pieces of newspapers- and how I used to read the news items on them. Ever since, the eco-unfriendly disposable plastic plates have become a norm).
I woke after four hours, well past the time- when the morning bus to Purnagad was gone. I cursed myself, because traveling by the afternoon bus meant that I stand the danger of being stranded somewhere near Purnagad yet again. But then traveling doesn’t need courage, it needs a faith.
I boarded the bus to Purnagad and reached there in an hour and a half… the fort itself is located on a hillock, but is a gentle climb… from atop the fort one can see the sea- the deep blue sea. And some small fishing villages. It was an impressive sight and if I had not seen Gopalgad fort south-west of Vedlur and Dabhol (where the famous or rather infamous Enron power plant is located) then I would have been moved by the vantage… but Gopalgad was definitely better. Gopalgad was a Portuguese fort and depicting the advanced technique of fort making, with three rows of defenses against the approaching naval forces and perched atop a steep hill top, making it virtually impregnable. On the other hand, Purnagad was a Maratha fort, much before they became a naval power… and was having one line of defense, located atop a gentle hill top… it was nowhere compared to other Maratha sea forts I saw, say in Vijaydurg or the best at Sindhudurg, later during my wanderings. Analysis of Maratha forts in a chronological fashion can tell us a lot of things about how a bunch of Gorilla fighters became a formidable force and then later weakened by their own infighting.
So Purnagad was not a revelation, today the fort is used by village kids for playing cricket and is not particularly well kept.
It was nearing the time of sunset, when I left the place… I asked the gatekeeper of the place about any place to stay… and he told me about a place called Musakazi Bandar… Bandar in these areas is a generic term used for a port. He told me that in half an hour, I will get a bus for the place and it will take one hour to reach there. And that there are a few hotels in the place. I boarded the bus to Musakazi Bandar and sat beside a local lad… on my way I started a casual conversation with him, and it turned out that he was speaking very fluent and clear Hindi. He was a resident of Musakazi and a Muslim.
Some people do not have anything remarkable about them, but- the sheer conviction with which they form their world view and the sheer confidence with which they view themselves … I must have, in my lifetime, brushed across many a Rohidas Gaekwad but life did not give me any chance to know them beyond their outwards appearance, till I met him.
I will never know as to how I landed in Jaitapur at the first place… as I have always said that traveling offbeat and at a shoestring, always opens up a diverse experience…which a person would not get if he was tucked away in a comfortable corner of a starred hotel by a reliable tour operator. These experiences are both bad and good, and I am willing to suffer ten such bad experiences for a good one.
It all started in Pawas, a quaint little town in Ratnagiri district- and abode of Swami Swaroopanand, where I spent one night in the Ashram's dharamshala- and thereafter in the morning wanted to move southwards towards any place- having no idea of what will be in store.
Earlier during the wandering, I did the same at Velneshwar (famous for its old Shiva temple) and Hedvi (Lokmanya Tilak's birthplace) and had a frightening experience, when I was stranded in a forest with a creek in front of me… luckily, I saw a boat and urged for help… I was rescued by one Ninad Sawant, personnel of Mumbai Police and a resident of Jaigad- who was holidaying and going back to Jaigad after purchasing fish from a nearby village. But as a result, I saw a beautiful fort of Jaigad, spent one of the most memorable nights in the Fort rest house and the morning next saw Malgund…. a beautiful village that is the birthplace of poet Keshavsut. Now if I had not taken these chances, there was a remote possibility that I would have done the same….in the normal course of events, I would have reached Ganapatipule and spent a night over there and rest would have been lost.
When leaving Pawas, the only handy information I had at hand was that south of Pawas is the fort of Purnagad… and I wanted to see it before venturing anywhere further south.
Pawas is on the banks of a beautiful river of Gautami… and in the morning I just sat on one of its banks, watching the scenery around… there was something very spiritual about the place. I sat there for hours together and then lay down a newspaper and slept on it. (I carry a lot of old newspapers while traveling and use them as disposable bed sheets… sleeping bags are too bulky and are not all that interesting… in fact one of the most interesting things a person can do is read old newspapers and try and relate it with the expanded information one has about the event reported in it, since it was first reported. In my childhood, I remember having my daily quota of Jalebis and Samosas in Allahabad on small pieces of newspapers- and how I used to read the news items on them. Ever since, the eco-unfriendly disposable plastic plates have become a norm).
I woke after four hours, well past the time- when the morning bus to Purnagad was gone. I cursed myself, because traveling by the afternoon bus meant that I stand the danger of being stranded somewhere near Purnagad yet again. But then traveling doesn’t need courage, it needs a faith.
I boarded the bus to Purnagad and reached there in an hour and a half… the fort itself is located on a hillock, but is a gentle climb… from atop the fort one can see the sea- the deep blue sea. And some small fishing villages. It was an impressive sight and if I had not seen Gopalgad fort south-west of Vedlur and Dabhol (where the famous or rather infamous Enron power plant is located) then I would have been moved by the vantage… but Gopalgad was definitely better. Gopalgad was a Portuguese fort and depicting the advanced technique of fort making, with three rows of defenses against the approaching naval forces and perched atop a steep hill top, making it virtually impregnable. On the other hand, Purnagad was a Maratha fort, much before they became a naval power… and was having one line of defense, located atop a gentle hill top… it was nowhere compared to other Maratha sea forts I saw, say in Vijaydurg or the best at Sindhudurg, later during my wanderings. Analysis of Maratha forts in a chronological fashion can tell us a lot of things about how a bunch of Gorilla fighters became a formidable force and then later weakened by their own infighting.
So Purnagad was not a revelation, today the fort is used by village kids for playing cricket and is not particularly well kept.
It was nearing the time of sunset, when I left the place… I asked the gatekeeper of the place about any place to stay… and he told me about a place called Musakazi Bandar… Bandar in these areas is a generic term used for a port. He told me that in half an hour, I will get a bus for the place and it will take one hour to reach there. And that there are a few hotels in the place. I boarded the bus to Musakazi Bandar and sat beside a local lad… on my way I started a casual conversation with him, and it turned out that he was speaking very fluent and clear Hindi. He was a resident of Musakazi and a Muslim.
It has been my experience that go anywhere in India, if one needs to get around the place speaking Hindi… then it is better to get hold of a Muslim. It is strange but true that Muslims in any locality are more verse with Hindi/Urdu than the Hindu natives of a place. I remember that happening to me in Coimbatore, in Vishakapatnam. And then one of my friend, an old resident of Bangalore and a kannadiga, told me that till a few years ago- if one had to find his way out in Bangalore while speaking Hindi- Muslims, with their knowledge of Hindi came very handy.
I asked him, if there was any hotel in Musakazi or not. He counter-questioned whether I was a Hindu and Muslim. For a moment I was taken aback but then I realized that he had a concern for me in his heart. He told me that Musakazi is a Muslim village and it might be a good idea, if I go to the other side of the creek to Jaitapur, which is a Hindu village.
Muslim village-Hindu village? … Lord Curzon, you have done a wonderful work for an empire where sun never used to set!!!!!!!
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