Dawn leaks through the mist, turning the sky yolky yellow as we begin our safari into the heart of Kaziranga. Bundled up in our jackets, we begin our journey seated atop a majestic tusker who poses for pictures if you whip out a phone and ask him nicely.
We lumber along a well-worn tree-lined track; the elephants themselves are beautiful, their rough trunks painted in red and white, their gentle eyes, playful and serene.
Soon, the path gives way to open plains, and we spot the famed one-horned rhinoceros. They graze in ones and twos. Up close, they are a sight to remember, their bodies huge, almost touching the ground, and their legs stout and bumpy. They are unconcerned about their audience, though I suspect their strength far surpasses that nonchalant exterior.
By evening, we are ready for another safari, this time by jeep. As we bump along, I am struck by the difference between Kaziranga and the other national parks we’ve been to.
Kaziranga, being the flood plains of the Brahmaputra, has many small ponds, lakes and marshlands. Some of the paths are lined by tall elephant grass; a tiger hiding in there would remain just that—hidden.
Kaziranga National Park | Harsha Haridas
Kaziranga is also home to the endangered swamp deer, and they are quite easy to spot around the park. Besides these, there is a wide variety of flora and fauna in the area that any wildlife enthusiast would love.
But this travelogue would be incomplete if I did not mention the Assamese thali, because if there are two senses that should be titillated on a journey, I say it’s the eyes and taste buds.
The food is traditionally served in bell metal utensils—a mound of steamed rice in the middle with a crispy fried eggplant (or any fry, really) on top. I confess I asked for second and third helpings of that crispy fry. Then we have—in little bowls—split black gram dal, a pitika or mash of potato or any other vegetable, a pickle, chutney, and a mixture of stir-fried greens that just melt into the rice.
Of course, we need a non-veg dish, and in the Northeast, it is the pork curry that is the real delicacy—rich buttery cubes of pork sitting and simmering in a pot, drinking up all the spices into one heavenly portion that one can wolf down.
Properly exploring this UNESCO World Heritage site requires three to four days. Access is easy via Guwahati, and self-drive is one of the best options as roads are good and there are beautiful views of paddy fields, banana plantations and the majestic Brahmaputra river en route.
The writer is a psychiatrist based in Kannur.
