I was in Khopoli for work and had planned a little wandering
for myself, off the Pali-Khopoli road towards Mrugagad near Jambhulpada. It’s
the peak of monsoon, the Konkan hills are shrouded in clouds and it is lustrous
green all-around. Driving alone on a winding road, past wet and sleepy villages,
a narrow pock marked asphalt strip cutting through the overgrown bushes and the
iridescent green paddy fields. Rains splintered off my windscreen and the
wipers struggled to keep a clear arc to see ahead. The sickly river I have been
ignoring for an year, is now full– gurgling, playful, fast – keeping me
company, speeding down the smoky hill slopes. To my right below, a girl fished
in the river at the turn with her father under an umbrella; I swept past the village
women wearing triangular overalls made from plastic bags; listening to the muted
and rhythmic dhup-dhup of the wiper blades; watching the trees shaking in the
wind; the blurred green magnified through the water droplets on my car window.
I drove up to the Big Red Tent SH 92 camping ground and parked. The 10 acre
place is owned by the Inamdaars, I met the lady herself who showed me around
and chatted with her on her verandah over a cup of tea. They have built a
beautiful multi-level red tiled house, with an open air atrium. The atrium
opens into a courtyard which is a patch of lawn with a mango tree, bordered by
stone slabs and a wrap-around verandah looking inside. Dr Inamdaar, a civil
engineer, and her husband own an Engineering college in Khalapur and this is
their country home. Soon rooms will be rented out for stays. The camping is
managed by her son (who was out for white water rafting in Kolad) in the large,
extended grounds. Mrugagad with the tiger back ridge jutted out covered in
velvet green straight ahead of the front outer balcony. On my way back, I
parked and got out on a shaky bridge and watched the river flowing between the
bushes on the bed. The grey, white and green canvas in front of me was alive
with the wind gusts, and the sound of the water leaping over the rocks. The
rain sprayed my face, and I watched the hill ranges grew indistinct in the
fading light.
