The visit to a place becomes completely fulfilling when the journey attains its comforting dose to the brim at the first place. But when the journey involves adventure , excitement and a first-time experience of a kind - surpassing the comfort quotient to reach the zenith of fearlessness - the
thirst of recharging our souls , being almost quenched , revamps its limit for more. Such was the case in our journey to Daringbari , the remote hilly village at the heart of Odhisa.
All my adventure-laden worms had quickly grown wings and had transformed themselves into tickling butterflies transmitting spasms of excitement and spikes of welcomed fear all throughout my veins when we , myself along with few like minded companions, learnt that our journey by car from Bhubaneshwar to Daringbari was abound with unpredictability. Our driver was unaware of the best route. We would travel through forests or ghat areas ,as they call it , all along night. We did not know exactly when we would finally reach .Cell network would probably remain unavailable for most parts of the journey.So google maps - better not put faith in it!
With twilight casting over western corner of heaven , we commenced our journey moving southwards of Bhubaneswar through NH 5 with loads of zeal. The speedometer was ticking almost a ton. Every burst of the centrifugal wind seemingly sneaking through minute pores of skin was like a antidote to the unexpected cacophony of the malfunctioning music system. It was certainly a disappointment. We took a right turn from Khurda towards Baghamari where we stopped for evening snacks. The occasional glimpses of sophistication and urbanization across highway had given away to acres of barren lands diminishing to indistinguishable purple horizon. Some distant zigzag outlines , like that drawn by a child's free flowing pencil , of unknown hill range was holding on to sight against the fading hues.
Travel times often turn treasure memories as normal gossips turn into unheard stories and incoherent music turns out to be the funniest ones. Such a gala atmosphere continued inside our car as we were rollicking towards Nayagarh. We stopped for a loo break in the middle of nowhere only to find the pseudo luminescent silver moon shinning with all its might and the distant hill ranges on either side seeming ominous like that in fairy tales. The driver added more creepy elements to the plate by narrating terrifying stories of certain village nearby that used to stalk strangers at night on road and seize them for a bait - to serve as offering for some undignified worships!
There were two roads leading to Daringbari from Nayagarh. As we were already absorbed in the enchantment of the night , it was unanimous decision to explore the longer , definitely more adventurous route. Our car raced towards Phulbani. It was already past 9 pm and the number of visible creatures on the road was slacking every minute. I focused my vision on the moon resting my head against the window. The forest ranges of Daspalla reserve on the left seemed to reel back like a quick flashback sequence of unknown animated film as perceived through the corner of my eyes. Suddenly turning right my eyesight caught hold of a poster of tiger! Ah! We were passing through the Satkosia tiger reserve on a lone road at night. Though I knew capturing a view of the king of jungle is the wildest thought ever but my subconscious mind took the front seat and began to articulate images of tiger and flash them in my brain. I could only hope one of those apparitions transpired into reality.
Phulbani was in deep slumber when we reached there. Luckily we managed to get a nocturnal mascot to direct us to the road to Daringbari. All the excitement , uncanny bliss travelling at night might replenish your mental appetite but its physical counterpart craves only for food - something that was awaiting us in Daringbari as we had done away with our snacks long before. Our car was plying smoothly , breaking the peaceful silence around perhaps only by a whisker , through the road. Distant hill ranges and occasional hillock were still accompanying us. Perhaps I was the only one awake as my companions had surrendered to the inevitable tiredness. "Fire!" I cried. Everybody sprang up. It was not a prank , as everyone else might think I believe ; and to convince them I pointed to the glowing couple of lines across the hill range - the golden spark against the dark veil is certain not to be missed. It was hard to tell whether it was forest fire or a deliberate inflammation by the wood cutters , but nevertheless it bewitched and looked majestic.
Farther we went , greater the quietness of the ambience was engulfing us. My scaring intrusion into the snoring slumber of my companions did make an unintended endeavor in restoring their clumsy senses but it was short-lived. They had all reclined back. And the most perilous part of this speechless drama culminated with the driver yielding to the sleepy doze of the surroundings. For a moment our car lost balance and aimlessly glided off the road ; but had it been not for the culprit driver's still-awake reflexes - acting promptly to regain control - we might have not reached anywhere in whole. That was indeed scary. On a lighter note , this incident provided us with the leisure of forming a round table conference - an unplanned committee of one-time-nightcrawlers only to exchange laughter and soak in the unadulterated refreshment of nocturnal nature - seated on the middle of the road on a moonlit night!
The rest of the journey saw most of us yearning to reach sooner rather than later. Eventually we did after requiring guidance from a couple of local nightcrawlers. No sooner did we step onto the main village road of Daringbari than we were taken aback to find men and women in groups trotting along like zombies at midnight. It was definitely the least expected thing to witness in a remote , rustic village. But later we learnt those were the retreating audience from the night-theatre show. We now live in the age of malls and multiplexes but this little information brought a big smile to my face.
However we were finally at our pre-booked eco-resort and it was time, infact well past the usual schedule , to dine and get the much-needed rest. But did we sleep? It had already been a successful night to topsy turvy the.routine and then why not further it? We went on gossiping and exchanging stories only to lay our backs at first stroke of Orange in the east.
