The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calavarous County: Paradiso De Odra

The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calavarous County: Paradiso De Odra

Paradiso De Odra

One fine, balmy winter morning, we set out on a country boat from the jetty at Satpada into the shimmering Chilka.

The sun’s radiance was glistening on the calm water of the lake while small Irrawaddy Dolphins were popping over the water every now and then around our boat.

I wondered whether there could be a more idyllic setting than this. The only dissonance being the “Tuk Tuk” of the outboard motors of numerous 'Bhut Bhuti’s' that dotted the horizon, carrying tourists to see these little dolphins.

 

 A quarter on an hour into our voyage, our group had started popping the cork so to say and started guzzling the clear spirit from the land of the Tsars, flavoured by a few drop from a squeeze of country fresh citrus they call “Kagaji Lembu” .

The “Captain” of our boat, a 20 nothing, looked much older than his age seasoned by the harsh sunlight. He seemed to have spent more than half his years navigating these waters.

He knew the channels well thereby deftly avoiding the various nets “Gheris” and the shallow waters to navigate us past the island to Mahisa- Berhampura to our East. We were now in an area far away from the beaten path or should I say channel.




On our horizon there appeared a thickly wooded stretch of casuarinas which seemed to extend from the west to the east as far as human eye could see.

 We were heading towards the little known Forest Bungalow perched on a ridge on the sand bar separating the Chilka from the Bay of Bengal.

As we alighted from our boat at a desolate jetty, we could spot a few spotted deer darting away due to our intrusion.

Luggage and barbeque set unloaded from the boat, we started our trek up to the Bungalow on the ridge. 

The long pathway was lined by old casuarinas whose needles swayed in the gentle winter breeze. From the crevice of an old casuarina tree a monitor lizard was bobbing its head out and hissing a welcome tune with a constant flicker of its forked tongue.

We settled in on the verandah of the Rastafarian like abode and as the sun started slipping over the horizon some of us who ventured on to be beach were rewarded by the most surreal sunset on the eastern coast.

As dusk turned to night an eerie silence engulfed the entire area and we were plunged into pitch darkness.

Soon the hurricane lanterns were lit dispelling the darkness from the extents of the verandah and the fragrance of weed started pervading the place. As the joint was moved from person to person between intermittent sips of Peaty Malt, the mood was raised several notches up, along with the rising of the full moon over the horizon.

  

As the moonlight shone through the needles of the Casuarinas, it brought to memory the crooning of Ray Charles’ Georgia on my mind – 

....... Comes as sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines

Other arms reach out to me

Other eyes smile tenderly

Still in the peaceful dreams I see

The road leads back to you

I said Georgia, oh Georgia, no peace I find ........

Having warmed ourselves up with a few shots of Malt, we ventured towards the moonlit beach to set up our barbeque and bonfire on the windy sands.

Duryodhan the Khanshama cum errand boy was summoned to carry the chairs, on to the edge of the surf which glistened in the moonlight. A few of us armed with torch lights scoured the beach for drift wood which was piled up for the bonfire that was to come later on in the wee hours of the morning.

From the top of the little mound at the water’s edge, where we had set up our barbeque, we had a commanding view of the water and the jungle on either side.

 As the wee hours of the morning approached and our inebriation grew we could hear the howls of the jackal and an occasional giggle of a hyena interrupting the stains of melodious music playing from the music system. 



As these howls and giggles kept coming closer to us, they were responded to by echoing sounds made by the more vocal amongst us. This coupled with flashing strobes from the high powered spot lights drove them away.

Well beyond midnight after we had long finished our barbecued chicken and downed an awful lot of malt, we trudged back to the bungalow to settle down for a Spartan meal of  par boiled rice, sautéed lady finger, ‘Dalema’ and mutton curry.

In the wee hours of the morning most of crashed into a well earned stupor to be woken up in at dawn to the meow of peahens. I rushed out to capture the display of the beautiful plumage of peacocks which generally are following the peahens to perform this courtship ritual but alas by the time I reached the sand mound, in the direction from which the meows were coming, they had disappeared behind the thickets.

But I was not disappointed, as I was rewarded by the breathtaking site of two marine eagles in full flight.

After 'shooting' the eagles as I returned to the verandah of the bungalow after a stroll , I could from a distance, get the smell of freshly fried sausages and soon I settled down to have a sumptuous breakfast comprising of Bread, Omelet and Sausages.

As the sun warmed up the breeze, a decision was made to rush to the beach for a game of Frisbee and a swim in the cool waters. The swims were punctuated by repeated sips of Bloody Mary till we were all bronzed by the tropical sun and beat a hasty retreat to the comforts of our Spartan bungalow.

Tired and tanned, after a thorough cleaning, we settled down for a delicious lunch comprising of freshly caught tiger prawns and crabs slowly cooked in traditional style over fire wood and rice.

Soon it dawned on us that our vacation was coming to an end. Hurriedly, we packed and one by one made a bee line to the jetty to leave Rajhans in time so as to catch the breathtaking sunset over chilka.

We weren’t disappointed at all with the sights that we captured on the way back and with a tinge of sadness rationalized that all good things have to come to an end

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Where is this:

Rajhans is an old bungalow 2.19 miles south of the Satapada Jetty on the long sand bar extending from Huma to Bramhagiri thus forming the brackish water lagoon of Chilka. Rajhans is at 19°38'4.01"N & 85°26'25.59"E

How to book:

Send in a fax to DFO Chilka’s office    06756221854 (Fax)

Or an email to chilkawidivision@gmail.com

The Chilka DFO’s office  can be reached 06756211012

The DFO Chilka can be reached over his cell to follow up on the booking  - 9437133489

How to Reach:

Rajhans can be reached by travelling 65 Kms south from Bhubaneswar on NH 203 to Puri and from Puri taking NH 203 A till it ends at Satpada Jetty. Considering the current road consitions, it takes around 3 hours from Bhubaneswar and around 90 minutes from Puri.

From Satpada jetty, one has to take a boat ride of 30 mts to reach the bungalow.

Best time to visit:

Nov to March is the best time to visit during the year and one should plan to reach Satpada Jetty around 1pm. Have lunch at the Panthaniwas and board the boat from the jetty at around 4pm. Then one can enjoy the sunset over Chilka and also reach the Bungalow well before dark.

Preparation to make before visit:

Carry the following: Couple of long throw torches, LED lamps, match boxes, alcohol, weed, towels, tissues, tea bags, used newspapers (For lighting bon fire), barbeque set, Marinated meat for barbeque

Carry from Satpada : Rice, Dal, Cooking oil, Vegetable, Salt, Eggs, Bread, Ata, drinking water, kerosene ( For lighting bonfire by the uninitiated). (Ask the forest guard or boatman to buy from local shop if one is not familiar.

 Preparation to make on reaching :

Ask cook at the bungalow to prepare the dinner as per your menu. Go to the beach and collect dried wood at a convenient location for bonfire. (Try collecting thick logs and put twigs under them).

Before going to sleep, inform the cook on your breakfast and order crabs/fish for the next day lunch.

Hiring a Boat:

Negotiate hard on a return journey. Include a morning dolphin sighting for 30 mts on the return journey. It should be Rs.1500. Do not pay till the visit is over. Keep the boatman’s cell No. and also of the association. At the point of deboarding, inform the time of departure to the boatman.

Dom Perignon to Dom Pada

As a young guy growing up in Cuttack my spare time was often spent going through the volumes of Junior Britannica or in-flight magazines of British Airways that my cousin used to get for us during his annual visits from the UK.

One of my main attractions in these magazines would be the section on Beverages and Colognes. I would be fascinated by brands like Yves Saint Laurent, Dunhill, Prada and of course Dom Pérignon.

So a couple of years back when I heard the name of a place called Dom Pada, it brought to my mind the sparkle from the house of Moet & Chandon that has now become the preferred fashionista tipple. I wondered could there be a connection between the two?

Dom Pada or to be more correct Kalika Prasad as it is locally known is on the south bank of the Mahanadi where the mighty river meanders sharply to the south and then again to the north just before being checked by the Munduli Barrage.

I had further heard anecdotes from one of my uncles about Kalika Prasad and the tragic tale of the local monarch drowning himself without leaving a male heir.

So one fine winter afternoon I set off to visit Dom Pada along with Sushree and my in laws. As we crossed the Mahanadi at the new Naraj Barrage 500 m downstream from the Old Naraj Weir it brought back memories of Duck Shoots and Angling picnics that would bring us to the old weir as a teenager.

Back in those days Naraj was a sleepy place where one could take ones car on to the old Weir and the sunsets were extremely picturesque.

Once over the barrage, the road snaked up a small hill as we crossed the Old Naraj IB to the right, still standing as a mute spectator to the ravages of time that has brought a HT power tower into its compound, driving onwards towards the mighty Mundali Barrage.

Beyond Mundali we drove along the south bank of the Mahanadi on the road to Banki. We were now in ‘Tomato Country’. Miles after Miles, the fields on the right and the left were full of plants laden with the ripe balls of red ready for harvest.

Soon, we were nearing our destination and after taking directions from a few locals we turned right, towards the river bank, driving straight through a thickly wooded patch. As the jungle cleared, there appeared a magnificent old building perched of a rocky crag growing out of the clear blue waters of the Mahanadi.

Immediately a thought crossed my mind - how would it feel to be perched on the building’s ‘chatri’ sipping the famous bubbly on a stormy monsoon night with the waters of the river splashing on the rocks below.

Once the feeling sunk in, we made a beeline to the old Devi Temple on the ground of the old haveli. As I walked along in the shade of the woods, I came across an old cenotaph built by Raja Amarendra Mansingh Bhramabar Rai in memory of his beloved wife Rani Pritam Kumari.


The temple was shrouded by the largest banyan tree that I have come across and the silhouette of the tree against the clear blue waters of the river presented a breath taking site that I could not stop from capturing in my camera.

After paying our obeisance to the mother goddess, we proceeded towards the ferry crossing. As we hopped on to one of the country boats there was no stir in the air, no stir in the river, The Boat was still as she could be.

But once we settled down and the motor was winched she lurched forward and a gust of cool breeze broke our sweat. We glided past the majestic crag with rocks to the left and the vast expanses of the Mahanadi to the right.

We came up to the old banyan tree perched on top of the rocky banks and heard the boatman call Beach Ahoy! Low behold ahead of us was a pristine river beach lapped by the gurgling waters of the mighty river.

By this time the sun was dipping fast beyond the horizon and the boatman was being harried to get back to the ferry crossing to take one last trip of commuters across the river. Though we were enjoying the breeze and the sight of the crimson ball dipping behind the hills in the horizon, we had to turn around and end our cruise.

Cruise over, as we trudged back along the rock strewn banks to our car, a bright idea struck us. Why not ask permission from the current owner of the haveli to have a look around. I was keen to go up the chatri on the crag and soak in the atmosphere.

The current owner – A chalk mine owner was kind enough to allow us in. He kept on ranting how painstakingly he had ‘renovated’ the building to make it habitable. To my dismay, to him renovation meant defacing the old building into a modern house. All the beautiful arches were plastered up. The once open verandahs had been shuttered up with brick walls from floor to ceiling. Only the chatri pavilion was intact. I couldn’t wait to get on to it and once up there was rewarded with the most breathtaking site of our visit.

It dawned on me that though I could not find any connection of this place to the famous bubbly, at least for me this was the most beautiful place to uncork the famous Dom.

A connection I did find – Though Dom Pada has no connection with the house of LVMH, I did find an interesting connection with the Quaid-e-Azam.

It goes back to my earlier reference to the drowning of the ruler. With the tragic death of the monarch, the queen resorted to adoption of a male heir to further the lineage. This adoption being done by a Hindu widow was challenged as being invalid. Mr. Jinnah was hired as a counsel by the queen and was successful in convincing the Privy Council that a son is the spiritual requirement of a Hindu man and a widow can adopt a male heir if she has been asked to by the deceased male. This case is a leading case in Hindu Law and is still referred to by Indian Courts. This case was reported in the AIR 1933 PC 155.