It had finally come to this. The shades of the cottage were drawn and the faint simmer of morning
was decipherable. I went out to the balcony and could see the early ships
pulling into the harbor. The long deciduous woods in front blocked a complete
view and offered snippets of the jetty where we alighted the day before. It was cold
and the morning was all clean and showered. Tiny birds chirped around.
Sparrows, a rarity in Chennai now, freely roamed around ignorant of the
disappearance of its mainland cousins.
It was
our last day in Andaman and I was missing this beautiful island already. The
daily showers, the locale and the warmth of the local people made me want to
spend more time here. But, I had to move on.
Dressing
up, I went out to film the cottage we were staying in. Since we checked in at
night, there wasn't much visibility of the serenity that surrounded us. Now it
was clear and brighter with vibrant green and brown. There were two hammocks
close by and the ‘Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock’ popped into my mind. They
were blue netted and sitting on them made it sag way down to the floor below.
Clicking few shots and covering the sea line and horizon on the other end of
the cottage we made it to the top of the hill for the restaurant and enjoyed
a better scenery from here higher than the otherwise spreading trees and
leaves that blocked our view. We had a panorama view of the horizon flanked
by hills in the far distance, like arms cupped together to hold the jetty on
the left and the water that always tallied along.
Liners
were pulling in slowly and added smog to the fog that blurred the hills on the
right end. Like the horns of a cow they tapered at the end pointing towards the
sea that lay silently sleeping on her sand and coral bed.
After
a quick breakfast and checking out, we got into the Scorpio while the usual
faces greeted us with the warm smile and an extended hand. The first on our
list was the Naval Marine Museum. The
ride was short, and we stopped at a small park that had a building at one
corner with the bold words on top. Samudrika. It lay on a hill and was lopsided
to the right. A short walkway was decorated with lifelike effigies of the local Andamanese tribe on the left and a skeleton of a blue whale on the right. There
were three or four rooms that housed the Island Formation Tribal Museum, Coral
Museum, an Aquarium and another tribal artefacts museum.
The first room gave
quite a description about the etymology, formation of the islands, and the list
of local tribes being Andamanese, Nicobarese, Shompen, Ongese and Sentinelese,
the varieties of local wood. It was quite a brilliant collection of basic
information that any tourist would need to know. Wish we had covered the
museums before venturing far into the island. There were also pictures of the
tourist spots and water sports and several other events on the walls of the
museum. The next room was an aquarium. It was small but each of the tanks were
brilliantly rich in color. There were many fishes that were solely found in
the corals. The entire cast of finding nemo was here, those at the fish tank
where nemo would be captured. Yes, what I saw while snorkelling was here on
display. Clown fishes, white lobsters, stonefish, sea cucumber, clam shells,
trigger fish, sea anemone, blue starfish, sea urchin, parrot fish, butterfly
fish and couple of other fishes I couldn't figure the name for. Filming all
of them, I felt I wasn't simply at any other fish museum or aquarium.
The next room had a
plethora of corals up for display, placed in wooden shelves and complete with
fancy focus lights. The names were a plenty. If I had to name what I saw, I
would say stag horn coral, finger, blue coral (poisonous – which we did see),
red fan corals, marble corals, organ pipe red coral, mushroom coral, table
coral and the one we saw every time underwater, the brain corals. The shells as
the name suggests, were how they looked like.
The next was the shells
museum that had yet another huge display of various shells and their name tags
along. I was finally glad to learn the names of a few. There were couple of
hornsbill turtle hoods for display. Yes, finding nemo again. The shells we saw
were scorpion shells, finger, king, trochees, mother of pearls complete with a
pearl in it, rare bird shell, sea horses, conus, sundial shell, silver colored
albone, pink clam shell and same in white, nancowries, paper shell, mango
shell, spotted screw shell, rare brown screw shell, ear shell, black mulli shell,
really large bivalves, yellow mulli, turbo shells, rare converted ganesh, queen
shell, nautilus, cowries – keychain, music shell, tri ton shell, horn shell,
katori, pooja shell, left hand shell, Australia clam shell, plate shell, sea
urchin shell.
The next room had a few
displays of tribal artefacts. Canoes/hodi, fishing pans and baskets, varieties
of moths, snakes and butterflies, a ten rupee note printed when Japanese took
over the island, couple of bow and arrows used for fishing, tribal cloth made of
wood and a model of a hut.
And thus we were done with the museum. We were on a time crunch, with three more museums to go and the need to board the flight back to Chennai at 1.
Yet another short drive
to the Cellular Jail Museum, we experienced a soft drizzle, with the rain
greeting us again for the day. The cellular jail had museums open till 4 or
something, after which tickets are sold for the light and sound show. The
museum was initially built as a star with seven feet. Only three of the rows
remain today. Before we went into the jail, there were galleries on either
sides of the entrance. The first one I entered had a display of the sack cloth
that was used when the prisoners were being punished. There were also models
that displayed the three kinds of fetters used, bar, chain and cross bar. A
replica of the jail was also seen, that housed all the 7 rows. A display of the
100, 50 and 10 rupee centenary coins was also seen.
Moving forward, I could see
a huge mortar and pestle, black in color and a spike on the ground closeby. The
coconuts were ripped open using the spike and the huge pestle was turned around
by a bar that jutted out. This was an oil mill that drank most of the sweat and
blood of many prisoners here. I just stood there by the magnificent machinery
and couldn't seem to put myself into place how the cell mates could have toiled
here. It was scary. Beside this torture device, there was also a frame that had
two wooden columns on each side and a short bar where a belt was used to fasten
the prisoner face first on the platform and lashes could be delivered to him
from behind. The model in its very form was the scary reminder of human torture
and pain our freedom fighters faced.
I stood by, watching
the shameless frame gleaming in the light. A few utensils used were also on
display. Leaving the horrifying imagery behind, I moved on to another gallery
where the pictures of most of the revolutionaries imprisoned here were on
display, categorized on the conspiracies and the terror they created within the
British skin.
A short flight of
stairs led to an art gallery. Various artistic rendition of ‘Kala Pani’ and the
isolated island jail was brought out in different art forms by many Indian
artists. They circled around the theme of death and scarcity of kindness. Each
experimenting different shades of colors somehow had a blackish element
buried. It was a brilliant collection. The room adjacent to this gallery was
entirely dedicated to Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose. Newspaper cuttings, charts,
paintings, sayings and models of the great freedom fighter were placed across
four different walls. Grazing through these gave one a deep understanding of
the legend.
Moving on we entered
the main grounds of the museum. The garden was maintained well between two rows
of the jail. It opened with a Swantantara Jyoti and Matyr’s column on the left.
The jail rows were in its primitive form, bricks aged black and a few signs of
faded new paint. The three stories of jail cells towered over us and there was
a watch tower right at the centre of the complex. Approximately 33 cells in
each floor of a cell, they all overlooked the space between them. Four of them
had been demolished, two by the Japanese and the rest by the Indian Government.
The cells were simply a small room with no toilet facilities. Pots were
provided for the same. The prisoners were locked in from 6 in the evening to 6
in the morning. There was small ventilation at the back of the cell and was
high from the ground. The entrance to the cell was small and a huge iron bar
was used to lose shut the same. Entering one was eerie. It was frightening to
imagine being inside a jail that witnessed inhumanities of the worst degree. I
was shaken a bit. Veer Savarkar’s cell was special. It was confined to the
corner of one of the rows and was in the second floor. His cell had an extra
iron gate and faced the gallows below. He was unlucky to witness the hangings
of every soul that was sentenced. Death lurked at every corner. Even now, as I
recount the day’s travel, a shallow sinking feel grabs my stomach. Passing on,
we got to the top of one of the spokes of the jail and saw a spectacular view
of the neighbouring Ross Island in the distance.
Climbing up the central
tower, I came across a huge overturned fulcrum. This was lighted up when people
were hung, as a signal to ships far off. On the grounds there was a First War
of Independence Gallery that had news paper clippings and pictures of
revolutionaries who had a hand in the first war of Independence. Moving forward
we came towards a short platform painted in white. This was where people
performed their last riots before moving towards the gallows. The gallows stood
close by, a demon of a room. Here the sense of death was more profound. Three
ropes hung by a wooden bar that hung across the ceiling. On the floor there
were three circles drawn and filled with white paint marking the spot where the
unfortunate would stand. We also walked underneath the floor and saw a
rectangular room whose walls must have faced many helplessly twitching legs
supported by a broken neck.
Shrugging and pulling
myself in the chill, I walked towards the car which started off for the next
museum. The last museum that we could afford seeing for the day was the
Anthropological Museum. It was a more modern building with a great tile art in
the front facade of the building. The building housed two floors of extensive
detail, exhibits and models of the aboriginal people that inhabited this land.
There were complete documentation and display of the Jarawas, Sentinelese,
Great Andamanese, Ongese, Nicobarese and Shompen people and their daily lives. Lifelike
models of canoes and huts were also on display. It was quite a brilliant museum
and I must suggest you see the video for a lot is there to see and understand.
Thus our slated tour
had come to an end and we were on our way to the airport. Regretting not having
done extensive shopping, we boarded the jet airways flight back home. I was
still in for a final treat.
The airfield was
surrounded by hills and a beautiful panorama. Sadly, the video camera’s charge
depleted before I could take a final shot of the brilliant take off.
But switching over to
the digital camera I managed to muster some shots of a brilliant air view. The
runway itself vanished into the horizon engulfed by a clouded sky and a leafy
ground. As the plane nosed into the sky, clouds fogged the ground below.
What I witnessed below
was a brilliant display of the earth’s beauty isolated from the rush of life in
the mainland. Being in Saudi Arabia for a large portion of my life, runways
were mainly yellow and deserted with sand lying everywhere. The Chennai runway
was more of a brilliant haven with its tufts of trees interspersed between
sprouting buildings. But what i was seeing here was more of the extraordinary.
A brilliant painting, a complete landscape, a wonderful design. The land had
everything; islands, marshes, rivers, estuaries, hills, roads and whatnot. it
was a wonderful concoction of beauty I say. I glimpsed a navy building INS
Utkrosh.
There was also the defence airport nearby it seems. Photography was
prohibited thereby.
I must suggest you see
the takeoff video. Mucho brilliance. As the plane flew away from the land
below, there was a clear demarcation of land and sea separated by several
boundaries. There was an extended line of beach; you could see posh green with
a stark yellow lining. Then came the growling sea marking a line of waves
parallel to the beach. And in between the beach and the waves there was the
indigenous coral reef imparting a mix between green, yellow and white. Stunning.
As we flew above the clouds, I saw a striking similarity between the land below
and the sky. Clouds were scattered and were in various sizes and shapes.
At one point, I saw a war going on, with chariots and people running. It was a haywire display complete with two armies fighting against each other. Also a little further, I noticed clouds appearing equally displaced from each other as if trees in a forest and now and then a larger cloud similar to hills and mountains. The clouds cast their shadows on the massive pool of water below which was only disturbed by the faint breeze that rippled its surface.
At one point, I saw a war going on, with chariots and people running. It was a haywire display complete with two armies fighting against each other. Also a little further, I noticed clouds appearing equally displaced from each other as if trees in a forest and now and then a larger cloud similar to hills and mountains. The clouds cast their shadows on the massive pool of water below which was only disturbed by the faint breeze that rippled its surface.
Time flew along with
the plane and I was nearing mainland. I glimpsed the line of familiar buildings
and roads as we neared ground. Truly Andaman was an island apart, a special
experience. A soothing of senses. A brilliant Indian beauty, rich in history,
culture and geography. I must say we did the right choice picking Andaman. You
plan one too.
And thus ends my
Andaman story.
