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