The Hero Who Lived Next Door

The Hero Who Lived Next Door

Sometimes, we search for heroes in movies and books. We watch their stories, get inspired by their courage, and think heroes are people who do extraordinary things.

But many times, we don’t realise that some heroes are already living among us.

They don’t wear a uniform. They don’t have background music playing when they arrive. Nobody may even know what they have done.

They are just ordinary people who become extraordinary when someone needs them.

This is one such real story. A story that may take a little time to digest, because when everything is over and you think about what could have happened, you realise how differently that day could have ended.

To keep the people and relationships private, I am taking you to a place that may resemble somewhere you know, but you will probably never find it on a map.

Now, if you like to hear stories in my way, hop in and put your seat belt on.

Let us take a small drive before we reach the story.

Imagine an evening somewhere in the middle of the Western Ghats. There is a light rain outside. The road is wet, surrounded by green, and every few kilometres another curve is waiting for you. You are driving slowly, maybe around 40 or 50 kmph, while some beautiful old melodies are playing on the car stereo.

Keep the window half open.

Every now and then, tiny rain droplets splash onto your face. The air coming through the window is cool and fresh, carrying that smell which comes only when rain touches trees and soil.

Now relax.

Visualise it in your own way.

Come, let us go to the story. 

A Normal Family, A Normal Morning

There lived a family in a fairly big city. Not as big or heavily populated as Bengaluru, but still busy enough with concrete buildings, traffic and people always running behind something.

The husband had his own CA firm.

He was a busy man. For him, work was almost like worship. He spent a lot of time working, probably because when you have struggled through life and built something without shortcuts, you somehow become very attached to it. Hard work becomes part of your daily routine.

His wife was a homemaker. Her world mostly revolved around their two little children, aged around five and two.

His mother was also staying with them, but around this time she had gone to visit her elder son’s family in another city.

That morning started like any other day.

The husband left for his office. Their elder child went to school.

At home, it was just the mother and the younger daughter.

Nothing about that morning gave any indication that, within a few minutes, this family would be facing something none of them had expected.

“Amma, Let’s Go Down”

Amma, Lets Go Down

The little girl had her own routine.

Like many small children, she loved going to the terrace. That was her little playground. Usually, mother and daughter would spend some time there between around 9:00 and 10:30 in the morning.

That day also, they went upstairs and played as usual.

Around 10:30 AM, the little girl had enough.

She told her mother that she wanted to go back home and play inside.

So both of them started walking down the staircase.

For some reason, the daughter went a little ahead of her mother.

Children do that.

One moment they are beside you, and the next moment their tiny legs have already taken them several steps ahead.

Within seconds, she had reached near the front door.

Then she stopped.

She noticed something close to the entrance.

In her own little words, she started describing it to her mother.

Her mother was still coming down the stairs and didn’t think much about it. From whatever the child was describing, she thought it might be a small snail or some little creature near the door.

After all, this was a house close to the main road, surrounded mostly by a concrete jungle. There were not many trees or gardens around where you would expect much wildlife.

Her mother came closer.

Another few seconds passed.

Then she looked properly.

That was not a snail.

It was a snake.

The First Thought Was Her Daughter

There was hardly any time to think.

Her first instinct was simple.

Protect the child.

The mother tried to open the door, thinking that if they moved inside, perhaps the snake would get disturbed and move away in another direction.

But sometimes, when we try to solve one problem quickly, the situation takes a completely different turn.

The door opened.

And instead of moving away, the snake entered the house.

In seconds, it disappeared into the hall and went below the TV stand.

Now imagine the situation.

A mother standing there with her two-year-old daughter.

A snake somewhere under the TV stand.

No one else at home.

And you don’t even know what kind of snake it is.

Initially, she thought it could be a small rat snake or some harmless young snake. It was tiny, after all.

Still, she knew she could not take any chance.

Very carefully, she tried moving the TV stand slightly to see where it had gone.

That was when the situation changed.

The little snake raised its head.

Its hood opened.

And it hissed.

Only then did she realise what she was looking at.

A very young spectacled cobra.

Small in size, yes.

But definitely not something anyone would want to handle casually.

For a few seconds, fear completely took over.

A Phone Call That Changed Everything

When something like this happens, sometimes you don’t even know whom to call first.

She called her mother-in-law.

Her mother-in-law was in another city. There was no way she could physically come and help.

But sometimes, even from hundreds of kilometres away, one person can still change what happens next.

The mother-in-law listened to her.

She understood the situation.

And instead of panicking, she started thinking.

That presence of mind made the difference.

She immediately called the neighbour living just behind their house.

At the same time, she asked her daughter-in-law to call the nearby aunty and simply ask her to send uncle over because they needed urgent help.

Interestingly, she didn’t explain the whole snake story.

Probably there was no time for a long conversation.

Just one message.

“Ask uncle to come once. It is urgent.”

And sometimes, when there is a real need, help comes from a place very close to us.

In this case, literally from the house next door.

Uncle Arrived

The neighbour whom everyone called “uncle” was an animal lover.

A die-hard one.

They had two beautiful dogs who were like family to them, and he was also someone who loved nature and animals. More importantly, he was the kind of person who would come when somebody needed help.

Only a compound wall separated the two houses.

He understood that this was not a normal call.

And when he came, he didn’t come empty-handed.

He walked in carrying a bag and a snake-handling tool.

That itself gave the family some confidence.

By then, the mother-in-law had also informed her son.

The moment he heard what was happening at home, everything else became secondary.

He left his work and rushed back.

By the time he reached, uncle was already preparing to handle the snake.

Everyone knew one thing.

If that small cobra managed to enter one of the bedrooms, hide behind a cupboard, or disappear into some corner of the house, finding it again would become much more difficult.

So they needed to act carefully.

Not fast.

Carefully.

A Few Very Long Minutes

A Few Very Long Minutes

Uncle asked them to bring a small bucket with a proper lid.

Then he slowly approached the cobra.

What followed probably lasted only a few minutes.

But for the family watching it, those few minutes must have felt much longer.

The cobra was small, alert and defensive.

Uncle was equally alert.

There was no intention to hit it or hurt it. His aim was to control the situation, protect the family, and also make sure the snake came out safely.

He knew he was dealing with a living creature that was probably frightened too.

Slowly, using the snake-handling tool, he guided it away from the TV stand.

The snake resisted.

It raised itself again.

There was hissing.

There was tension inside the room.

Everyone stayed at a distance.

Uncle remained focused.

One wrong movement could create a completely different situation.

Finally, he managed to guide the little cobra towards the bucket.

For one moment, everybody watched.

Then it went inside.

The lid was closed.

That was it.

The hall suddenly became quiet.

The same house that, a few minutes earlier, had been filled with fear and confusion was now silent.

I can imagine everybody looking at one another and slowly realising that the danger had passed.

The little daughter probably didn’t understand the seriousness of what had just happened.

Maybe that was better.

The Journey Was Not Over

The Journey Was Not Over 

But for uncle, catching the snake was only half the work.

The intention was never to kill it.

The small cobra was simply in the wrong place.

It had somehow entered a concrete neighbourhood where humans had built their homes. It was not there looking for a fight.

So the husband and uncle took the safely contained snake away from the house and ensured it was released in a suitable natural area away from the family.

Only after that was the incident really over.

The family went back home.

The house was safe.

The child was safe.

The mother was safe.

And somewhere away from all those buildings and concrete, the little cobra was also given another chance to continue its life.

Who Was the Hero?

When I think about this story, one person naturally stands out.

Uncle.

Nobody had to force him to come.

There was no big discussion about the risk.

Someone needed help, and he came.

He had only one intention—to protect the little child and the family while making sure the animal was not unnecessarily harmed.

That is why I call people like him our silent heroes.

But when you look closely, this story actually had more than one kind of courage.

There was the mother, standing inside the house with her little daughter when a cobra was under the TV stand. Fear was definitely there, but she stayed present enough to protect her child and call for help.

There was the mother-in-law, sitting in another city, unable to physically do anything, yet having the presence of mind to immediately think about who nearby could help.

There was the husband who dropped his work and rushed home when his family needed him.

And finally, there was uncle, who walked across that small compound carrying his snake-handling tool and quietly did what had to be done.

No introduction.

No applause.

No camera.

Just help.

Heroes Are Sometimes Very Close

Life is full of small fights that we face every day.

Most are ordinary.

Some arrive without warning.

And during those moments, we realise the value of the people around us.

We sometimes look towards the sky and ask God to help us.

But maybe help does not always arrive in the way we expect.

God may not personally knock on our door.

Sometimes, He sends someone who is already living next door.

Someone we simply call…

“Uncle.”

 

     The Morning the Birds Came for Breakfast

   A balcony full of birds, a three-year-old full of questions, and one Appa trying his best to answer them.

The Morning the birds came for breakfast

A Morning Concert Outside the Window

A Morning Concert Outside the Window

It was around 5:45 AM, and I was still rolling around in bed when I heard birds chirping somewhere nearby.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention. Early mornings here normally come with bird sounds. But this was a little different. They sounded so close that, for a moment, it felt as if they were sitting in the next room and having their own morning concert. One bird would start, another would answer, and somewhere in between, a few more would join.

I got up thinking this was probably the usual morning scene and that I should get on with my routine.

By then, my younger daughter was already awake and fully charged, dancing around and waiting for me. The moment I entered the room, she had only one thing to say.

“Navu hoppa!”
(Navu hogona. Let’s go.)

By then, the concert outside had become even louder. The interesting part was that different chirping sounds seemed to be coming from the same direction.

My daughter stopped for a moment and listened.

“Appa, What Is That Sound?”

“What is that sound? Where is it coming from?” she asked.

“Let’s go and see,” I told her.

It was already around 6:30 AM.

From our balcony, we could see plenty of flowering plants and trees around, a nice place for many of the birds that visit the area. We slowly walked towards the corner of the balcony, trying to figure out where all that sound was coming from.

And there they were.

Just across the road, someone had put out food grains. Birds had started gathering around them for their morning breakfast. The more we looked, the more interesting it became. They were not simply crowded in one place. There seemed to be some kind of pattern in where each group was sitting.

Of course, the moment my daughter saw so many birds, my peaceful bird-watching session was officially over.

And Then the Questions Started

The questions started.

“How many birds, Appa?”

“Why don’t we see all these in Bangalore?”

“Appa, what are those birds?”

“Where are they coming from?”

“Why are they making so much noise?”

Just imagine getting so many questions from a three-year-old at 6:30 in the morning.

What would be my condition?

I was still trying to identify half the birds myself, and here I had a small interviewer standing next to me waiting for answers to everything.

Now, I am not that great at communicating verbally. When I write, I can probably write my heart out. But when I am talking to her, especially when she is firing questions one after another, I try to explain things in a way where she can understand at least 30% of what I am saying.

That itself is an achievement.

Here is roughly how our conversation went, translated from Kannada and Havyaka Kannada into simple English.

Appa: What all do you want to know now, magale?

Magalu: Appa! I want to know why birds get up early.

For a second, I thought about how to explain this without turning it into a biology class.

Appa: Just like us, they also have to live! And for that, they have to eat. So they wake up early in the morning and search for food.

She thought about it for a few seconds.

Then came a question I was definitely not prepared for.

Why Can’t Birds Order Food Online?

Why Can't Birds order Food online?

Magalu: Hmm! Why can’t they get food delivered? Just like how we get it in Bangalore, even they can get it!

Now what answer do you give to that?

I laughed.

Appa: We have become lazy, magalu. With time, we have become even lazier. For everything, we rely on delivery! But that is not the case with birds or animals. They have to go and search for their own food.

She still looked as if she had some doubts about the whole arrangement. Maybe in her mind, somebody simply needed to create a food-delivery app for birds. But she nodded and moved on to her next question.

“Why Are All the Birds Together?”

Magalu: Why are all these birds together? And why are they fighting?

I looked down again.

The birds were hopping around, chirping loudly, moving between the grains and occasionally pushing their way into another bird’s space. To a three-year-old, I could understand why it looked like one big fight.

Appa: Good question! First of all, they are not really fighting. They are eating, and all that chirping makes it look as if they are arguing. But for why they are all together… I have to tell you a story.

She immediately became interested.

An Ajji Kathe for My Little Magalu

Now, what came next was completely imaginary. Something inspired by the kind of Ajji kathe our grandmothers used to tell us, where animals talked, forests had their own rules, and there was always something to learn at the end.

So I started.

“Long ago, in a very big forest, there lived a big bird called a vulture. He was scary and dangerous, and he used to terrorise the other birds in the forest. Whenever he came, all the smaller birds would become frightened and fly away.

“After some time, the birds became tired of living in fear. So they all prayed to God for help.

“God appeared before them and said, ‘If you want to stay alive and happy, you have to stay together. Whatever comes your way, you should face it together. Only then will you be able to defeat this evil.’

“After God disappeared, all the birds gathered and made a decision.

“‘From today, wherever we go, we will stay together. We will also eat together. We can have our own small groups, but we will never leave one another when there is danger.’

“So from that day, the birds started travelling together and sharing whatever food grains they found.

“One day, while all the birds were eating together, the vulture came hunting for them again.

“But this time, something was different.

“Instead of flying away, all the birds stayed together. The small birds, the bigger birds, everyone joined in. Together, they fought back and finally made the vulture run away from the forest.

“And from that day onwards, all the birds stayed together happily.”

She listened quietly until I finished.

Then she looked at the birds again.

Magalu: Ohhh… that is why the birds are staying together!

The Moral Arrived Faster Than Expected

At that point, I decided to test whether at least that 30% of my story had reached properly.

Appa: Okay. What is the moral of the story?

Without thinking much, she replied:

Magalu: Me and my sister should stay together and should not fight.

I smiled.

Appa: Good!

I don’t know how long that moral would remain active once both sisters were back together, but for that moment, I was happy with the answer.

While our Ajji kathe discussion was going on, the real birds below continued with their breakfast as if they had no concern about the story being created about them from the balcony.

The way they had gathered was actually quite interesting.

A few crows were sitting on the terrace and on the nearby walls where some of the grains had been scattered. The mynas seemed to have created their own circle near the gate, happily eating from the ground. A large number of sparrows were gathered just beside them.

There were a few other birds too, each moving around within their own little groups.

A Wedding Breakfast for the Birds

A Wedding Breakfast for the Birds

For some reason, looking at all of them together reminded me of a big Indian wedding function.

One group here.

Another group there.

Some already eating.

Some waiting for their chance.

Some making plenty of noise.

And everybody somehow knowing where they belonged.

It really looked as though someone had invited the entire bird community for a wedding breakfast.

My daughter and I stood there watching them for some more time.

By then, the sun was slowly coming up and seemed to be announcing, “Okay, I am also ready now. Today I am going to heat things up. No rain!”

The coolness of the early morning was already beginning to disappear.

Then Grandmother Called, “Food Is Ready!”

And then came another familiar sound from inside the house.

Grandmother called out, “Food is ready!”

Perfect timing.

We had spent all this time watching the birds enjoy their breakfast, and now our own tummies had started reminding us that we had been standing there without eating anything.

So magalu and I finally left the balcony and went inside.

A Simple Morning I Will Remember

It was such a simple morning. Nothing was planned. No outing, no special activity, nothing extraordinary.

Just some food grains across the road, a gathering of birds, and a three-year-old with more questions than I had answers.

But somehow, those are the mornings that stay with us.

I am sure many of my answers were incomplete, and I am equally sure she understood only a small part of my imaginary bird story. But for those few minutes, we stood together watching the birds, talking about food delivery, vultures, teamwork, sisters fighting, and everything else that came into her little mind.

A morning well spent with my daughter.

And knowing her, I am only waiting for the next set of questions to arrive. 😊

Some Snipts, though i was not able to capture the birds showing the place and early morning vibes!!

Balcony View!! Sun Rise

Sun Rise

View from Balcony

 

When AI Became Too Much, I Found NI —                                Nature Intelligence

AI became too much; I found NI

AI, AI, AI………………………………. AI!!!

Hufff!

Somewhere between all this AI, meetings, work, responsibilities and life itself, I realised I was getting lost.

And strangely, the solution I needed was not another AI.

It was NI — Nature Intelligence.

You may ask, what is Nature Intelligence?

Wait.

By the time you finish reading this blog, probably you will understand what I mean.

The past one month had been mentally stressful for me. Not because of AI :) but because life itself had become a little tough.

Sometimes life is strange.

You take one step forward and suddenly something pulls you two steps back. Then you somehow fight again, climb back and feel that finally you have achieved something.

Only to turn around and realise…

You are standing exactly where you started.

Neither up.

Nor down.

Same place.

And sometimes the question starts troubling you:

Why are things not going right even when you know your intentions are right?

Those thoughts had started circling inside my head again and again.

And somewhere between all that noise, one thought came.

I need to go somewhere close to nature.

I didn’t know where.

Apparently, my wife already knew.

The Birthday Surprise

The Birthday Surpise

For my birthday, she had planned something without telling me.

She knows one thing about me very well.

Give me a choice between a luxury building in the middle of a city and a small place surrounded by trees, birds, rivers and animals…

I will probably disappear into the second option without thinking twice.

One evening she simply said,

“Tomorrow, I am taking you somewhere. A place where you can just be yourself and stay away from everything that is disturbing you.”

That one sentence immediately triggered my curiosity.

“Where?”

“No questions.”

“At least give me one clue.”

“No.”

Then came the final instruction.

“Tomorrow get ready. Until we reach a certain point, just follow my instructions.”

There was only one possible response.

“OK Boss!”

Where Is She Taking Me?

Next morning, around 8 AM, we started from Bengaluru.

We took the familiar route towards Kanakapura Road.

My wife was enjoying the journey.

The children were busy.

And my mind had started its own investigation.

Kanakapura…

Where can this road possibly lead?

As we crossed Kanakapura and continued further, my guesses became narrower.

Then we crossed Halagur.

Now I had almost solved the mystery.

“It is either Bheemeshwari or Galibore!”

My wife smiled.

That smile itself was enough confirmation.

And soon the road asked us to turn left.

Within a few kilometres, Bengaluru somehow felt much farther away than it actually was.

The Road Where Bengaluru Slowly Disappeared

Trees began appearing on both sides.

Buildings disappeared.

Traffic disappeared.

Horns disappeared.

Then came the Forest Department gate.

We entered our name, contact details and vehicle number.

And once the barrier opened, it felt as though another world had opened with it.

No impatient driver behind you.

No one flashing headlights.

No race to overtake.

No signal turning red just when you reach it.

Only a narrow road twisting through the forest.

Trees.

Fresh air.

Bird calls.

And silence.

The kind of silence that is not really silent.

Because nature is constantly talking.

You only start hearing it when human noise disappears.

Every few metres, we had someone waiting to welcome us.

Monkeys.

Sitting beside the road like they had been officially appointed as reception staff.

Some looked directly at our car.

Some sat with their families.

Some appeared to be waiting for passing vehicles to provide breakfast.

And that was also a sad little reminder of what we humans have done.

We have made some wild monkeys so dependent on roadside feeding that instead of searching naturally for food, they wait for bananas, biscuits and whatever people throw from vehicles.

A forest animal slowly learning human laziness.

So tempting as it may be—don’t feed wildlife.

Further ahead, we spotted deer between the trees.

And suddenly the journey itself had become part of the destination.

Finally, Bheemeshwari

Thanks to Bengaluru traffic, our planned arrival time had already surrendered.

We finally reached Bheemeshwari Adventure and Nature Camp around 12:45 PM.

The camp, operated by Jungle Lodges and Resorts, sits beside the Cauvery within the larger wilderness of the Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary. Bengaluru is roughly 100–105 km away by road, yet when you arrive here, the city feels much farther away.

The first welcome was simple.

Fresh lemon juice.

No fancy carbonated welcome drink.

And somehow it suited the place perfectly.

After registration and ID formalities, a staff member explained the accommodation, meal timings, nature walk, coracle ride and adventure activities.

By then the children had stopped listening.

Because the real show had started outside.

Monkeys were everywhere.

And this time we also spotted langurs.

They looked completely different from the monkeys our children normally see around Bengaluru—long limbs, long tails, dark faces and an almost royal way of sitting on the trees.

For the kids, the holiday had officially begun.

Our Room in the Middle of the Forest

We had opted for the suite room.

It was surprisingly spacious for the four of us, with enough room for a larger family too.

But the best part was not inside the room.

It was what waited when we stepped outside.

After dropping the luggage and freshening up, we started walking towards Gol Ghar, where meals are served.

It takes a few minutes to walk from some of the accommodations, but nobody really complains about walking here.

Because beside you flows the Cauvery.

Above you are trees filled with birds and monkeys.

Somewhere along the riverbanks you may spot crocodiles resting near the rocks.

Spotted deer, sambar, elephants and wild dogs are among the animals found in this landscape, while the river supports mahseer and mugger crocodiles. The larger Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary extends across more than 1,000 sq km of protected landscape.

Every few steps there was something to see.

And somewhere during that walk, my daughter suddenly asked:

“Appa, why do we call Kaveri a Jeeva Nadhi?”

There are moments when children ask questions for which fathers are expected to have instant Google inside their heads.

Unfortunately, there was hardly any network.

And apparently Appa’s internal search engine needed an update.

I looked towards my wife.

She looked back.

The examination had begun.

Why Is Kaveri Called Jeeva Nadhi?

Why is Kaveri Called Jeeva Nadhi

I decided facts alone were not going to work with children.

So I started with a story.

“Once upon a time, high in the misty green hills of Kodagu, a tiny stream began her journey. Her name was Kaveri…”

Little Kaveri travelled down the hills, between forests and rocks.

On the way she gave water to trees.

Animals came to drink from her.

Villages grew beside her.

Farmers depended on her for their fields.

Towns and cities waited for her water.

Fish lived in her waters and birds built their lives around the forests she supported.

Unlike seasonal streams that disappear after the rains, the Cauvery is a perennial river system, sustained through its catchment, tributaries, monsoon rainfall, groundwater and managed reservoirs.

So generation after generation, people did not see Kaveri as simply water flowing between two banks.

They saw her as something that carried life.

A mother.

Kaveri Thaayi.

A Jeeva Nadhi — a river of life.

My wife then added the line that made the explanation much simpler for the children.

“Imagine if Kaveri stopped flowing. Think about all the people, trees, animals, farms and cities waiting for her water. That is why protecting a river is almost the same as protecting life.”

The children became quiet for a moment.

And so did I.

Maybe This Was Nature Intelligence

By the time our conversation ended, we were standing on rocks near the river.

Nobody was talking.

There was no need.

The only sound was water moving between the rocks.

Somewhere in the forest an animal called.

Birds answered from another direction.

Wind moved through the trees.

I stood there for a few moments without thinking about work.

Without thinking about what went wrong last week.

Without worrying about what might happen next week.

And that was when the term came to my mind.

Nature Intelligence.

AI gives us answers.

Nature sometimes removes the need for questions.

Maybe that is NI.

No algorithm.

No prompt.

No subscription.

No update.

Just sit quietly beside a river for ten minutes and somehow your mind begins reorganising itself.

The problem may still exist.

Nothing outside you might have changed.

But something inside you becomes calmer.

That itself sometimes is enough.

Nature Intelligence Can Wait. First, Lunch.

All this philosophy is wonderful until the stomach starts sending notifications.

We were hungry.

Very hungry.

Our next target became Gol Ghar.

Lunch was buffet style with separate vegetarian and non-vegetarian sections.

And the food was genuinely good.

The kind where you tell yourself:

“Enough, this is the last serving.”

Then somehow return with another plate.

After lunch we slowly walked back towards the room.

My watch proudly showed thousands of steps.

We decided it was time for the children to take a small nap.

That plan lasted approximately…

Zero minutes.

Because an entire battalion had arrived outside our room.

The Monkey Battalion

Suddenly monkeys appeared from every direction.

On trees.

Near the cottages.

On branches.

Jumping from one side to another.

Some were sitting peacefully with their families while younger ones behaved exactly like human children who had consumed too much sugar.

Our kids forgot everything else.

For almost an hour, we sat watching monkeys play while our daughters played nearby.

Nobody needed television.

Nobody asked for YouTube.

Nobody complained about internet.

There was already a live wildlife channel running outside our door.

Free subscription.

Unlimited episodes.

Then Came Adventure

Adventure by the Cauvery

Soon we got the call for adventure activities.

The adventure package is charged separately, but if you haven’t tried these activities before, it adds a completely different flavour to the stay. The current listed bundle includes activities such as zip-line, Burma loops, parallel walk, log walk and elephant-foot walk, subject to operating conditions.

My daughter immediately transformed into a daredevil.

Elephant walk.

Burma walk.

Log walk.

Zip-line.

One after another.

Meanwhile, some adults—including her father—were watching with the expression of people carefully calculating whether courage is hereditary.

Kids don’t analyse risk the way adults do.

They simply see something interesting and say,

“I want to do it!”

Sometimes I think growing older is mainly the process of learning too many reasons to be scared.

The Cauvery From a Coracle

After the adventure activities came something all four of us could enjoy together.

The coracle ride.

We wore our life jackets, climbed into the traditional round boat and slowly moved onto the Cauvery.

From the river, the forest looks different.

You are no longer watching the river.

You are inside its world.

Rocks rise from the water.

Trees lean towards the banks.

Birds move between branches.

And everyone quietly keeps looking at the rocks hoping to spot a crocodile.

The coracle ride is subject to river and water conditions, which makes perfect sense—you are visiting a living river, not an amusement park ride.

That unpredictability is part of the experience.

Why Are the Deer Coming Near Humans?

Later in the evening, we took another walk.

Around that time, deer and wild boar sometimes move closer to the camp area.

I found that curious.

I asked one of the staff members,

“Why are they coming near the resort? Aren’t they afraid of people?”

His reply stayed with me.

He explained that some animals appear to feel relatively secure around the quieter camp surroundings and are accustomed to the lack of disturbance there.

I jokingly asked,

“But humans are more dangerous, right?”

He smiled.

What struck me was the larger idea.

Wild animals don’t necessarily need humans to become their friends.

They simply need us not to disturb them.

No shouting.

No chasing.

No throwing stones.

No feeding.

No trying to get one ridiculous selfie from two feet away.

Sometimes coexistence is simply knowing when to leave another living creature alone.

Fire, Forest and Dinner

By evening, everyone slowly gathered near Gol Ghar again.

Campfire.

A little barbecue.

Children running around.

People talking quietly.

Darkness settling over the forest.

Later there was a wildlife documentary followed by dinner.

Jungle Lodges’ usual schedule places the campfire and barbecue around 7 PM, wildlife film around 8 PM and dinner afterwards.

Dinner once again made us say,

“Wow.”

Maybe everything tastes better when you have spent the entire day walking, climbing and breathing forest air.

By the time we returned to our room, everybody was tired.

But there was still one excitement left.

Morning trekking.

6:15 AM — The Forest Alarm

Around 6:15 in the morning, we woke up.

Tea and coffee arrived at the doorstep.

There is something special about drinking morning coffee in a forest.

At home, coffee wakes the body.

Here, the forest is already awake before you.

Birds had started their meetings long before us.

After getting ready, we joined the morning group.

Guests can opt for a nature walk or guided trek depending on the programme.

Our trek was around three kilometres towards a viewpoint overlooking the Cauvery landscape.

The beginning was easy.

Then came the climb.

Very soon the adults developed a highly sophisticated trekking technique:

Walk.

Stop.

Pretend to admire tree.

Breathe.

Walk again.

Meanwhile, my daughter was moving ahead like she had an urgent appointment at the summit.

She reached before many of us.

The rest of us eventually arrived with equal amounts of happiness and shortage of oxygen.

But once we reached the top…

Worth it.

Below us was the forest.

Beyond it, the Cauvery wound through the landscape.

For a few minutes everybody simply stood there looking.

No photograph completely captures that feeling.

Some places are meant to remain partly inside your memory.

“Let’s Not Go Back to Bangalore”

After trekking, we returned to camp.

Breakfast was ready.

By then we were tired, hungry and happy—the perfect combination for eating more than necessary.

And then came the worst part of every good trip.

Packing.

Check-out.

Goodbye.

We carried our bags and slowly started walking away from the room.

That was when my younger daughter looked at us and said,

“I don’t want to go to Bangalore. Let’s stay here only.”

Everybody laughed.

But somewhere I understood exactly what she meant.

For one day, the kids had forgotten screens.

They had watched monkeys instead of cartoons.

Deer instead of videos.

A river instead of reels.

They climbed, walked, laughed, searched for crocodiles, watched langurs and listened to sounds coming from a forest.

Maybe they had discovered Nature Intelligence too.

They just didn’t need a name for it.

What I Carried Back

When we drove out through the same forest gate, nothing magical had happened to my problems.

Work was still waiting.

Responsibilities were still waiting.

Life had not suddenly become easy.

The same questions would probably return.

But I was different from the person who had entered that forest one day earlier.

A little quieter.

A little lighter.

A little more accepting.

And maybe that is what recalibration really means.

We spend so much time today talking about Artificial Intelligence.

How quickly it thinks.

How much it knows.

How it can improve productivity.

How it can solve problems.

And yes, AI is extraordinary.

But somewhere along the way, I think we should also remember another intelligence that has existed long before us.

Nature Intelligence.

A river does not hurry because somebody has set a deadline.

A tree does not compare its growth with the tree beside it.

A deer knows when to move and when to remain still.

A forest can survive storms, summers and monsoons and still begin another morning with birds singing.

Maybe nature does not solve our problems.

Maybe it teaches us how to carry them better.

And sometimes, when life pulls you two steps backwards after you have struggled one step forward, perhaps you don’t immediately need another solution.

You may simply need a river.

A forest.

A long walk.

And people you love beside you.

For me, this time, that place was Bheemeshwari.

And if I get another chance?

Yes. I would go back with my family without thinking twice.

Maybe next time Bengaluru becomes too noisy inside my head…

I already know where to search for NI.

Planning Your Bheemeshwari Trip

Travel Tips Before You Go

A few simple things can make your Bheemeshwari trip much more comfortable.

• Check the official Jungle Lodges website before you travel for the latest package details, timings and availability.
• Carry a change of clothes, especially if you are planning water activities. Evenings can feel a little cooler, so a light sweater or shawl is useful.
• Wear comfortable walking or trekking shoes. You will be doing quite a bit of walking around the camp.
• If you have binoculars, definitely carry them. Birds, deer, monkeys and other wildlife can appear when you least expect them.
• Carry a small personal medical kit with any medicines you normally need. The camp does have basic medical support, but it is always better to be prepared.
• There are no shops just outside the camp, so carrying a few small snacks—especially if you are travelling with kids—is a good idea. Just make sure not to feed the monkeys or any other wildlife.
• And one important thing: mobile connectivity can be weak or sometimes almost unavailable. But perhaps that is also one of the best parts of being here.

For a few hours, forget the phone, look around, listen to the river and enjoy the fact that the forest has much better things to show you.

Snaps through my lens