Into The Heartland Of Southeast Maharashtra

Last few days have been tiring to say the least. The new project for scale-up in Yavatmal was facing a steep challenge of strict timelines. June was coming to an end and we were yet to finish the pending interviews. Coupled with minimal rain and incessant travel back and forth to the faraway neighbouring district (ironic right? Objects in the mirror are farther away), exhaustion had started creeping in. Still, what was planned to be done, had to be done. July will be even tougher. 

Yet a sense of curious anticipation was lingering in the back of the mind, which kept me going through the night and forced me to be present on time as we kicked off the next morning for the visit to the next batch of villages. The landscape starts to change as soon as you switch districts. However, Yavatmal, courtesy of being the fifth largest district in the state, has diverse backdrops for you to marvel at. Today’s plan was to conduct interviews in the selected villages of Ghatanji.

As the vehicle swerved past the sharp turns on the state highway first and later the NH44, I couldn’t help but feel the lethargy being replaced by a spurt of energy. Maybe the pumping music playing in the car was the main culprit. I was on my way to visit two remote villages nestled in the hinterlands, on the boundary of a wildlife sanctuary. The prospect of immersion in a completely different setting was raising my spirits.

The drive from the block centre town to the first village in our itinerary – Jamb, was surprisingly well-maintained, with smooth asphalt roads cutting through the dense pockets of untamed vegetation and farmlands. We passed small isolated hamlets occasionally, and the size of the encountering villages was reducing in direct proportion to the increase in the wilderness. As we approached Jamb, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer beauty of the setting. The road dipped and curved, at this stage revealing its true nature as a village road, full of cracks and big gaps, giving a glimpse of the village ahead, all set against a backdrop of a dense forest cover. 

The Tipeshwar sanctuary, a fairly unknown wildlife sanctuary in Maharashtra, commands a measly area of around 148.63 sq.km. Although small in comparison to its siblings in the state, it  is a worthy rival in terms of avi biodiversity and vegetation cover. There are various villages located around the sanctuary. Naturally, these communities depend on the forest’s resources. Jamb is no exception, even if it falls outside the actual boundaries of the sanctuary. 

Pulling up to the Anganwadi, anybody visiting here for the first time would be immediately struck by the sense of tranquility and simplicity that permeated the air. We stepped out of the vehicle, taking a moment to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells of this new world. The constant chirping of birds created a soothing, natural symphony that an urban dweller would crave and pay big bucks for in their annual vacations. I could feel the stress of the last few days melting away. The external vehicle always attracts attention in these remote places, a glaze of eyes carefully and constantly observing our movements.  

We had to be quick and get done with our work as soon as we arrived. There was no significant time to explore and savour the beautiful surroundings. But bless the power of human eyes – for they capture in a still what thousand words cannot convey. You would be forgiven to assume that such a remote habitation setting would involve the majority of temporary dilapidated housing solutions like seen in those shown by the western movies. However, the fiery story of development has swept such places as well. Concrete houses and buildings are common. Near a wildlife sanctuary? Simultaneously, hopeful and depressing feelings rushed through my mind.   

As we wrapped up our scheduled interviews, and sat down for a quiet lunch in the Anganwadi itself, the weather was beginning to change. Pleasant climate in the morning had transformed to clammy and uncomfortable humidity. Cut-off of electricity at the time helped. Still, we were offered hot albeit refreshing black tea. Having paid our gratitude to the interviewees, we proceeded to the vehicle. 

While we were taking the exit towards the main road outside of the village, I could observe a small walkable path giving way to what seemed like a super dense forested section. My adventurous soul just lept out at the sight, but the moving car had some other ideas. My senses had been overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and tranquility of this tiny place. What if we had a chance to explore the surroundings? I can only imagine, one where the boundaries between human settlement and the natural environment had blurred, where the two existed in a delicate, symbiotic dance.

As we bid farewell to this isolated world and made our way back to the highway, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude and wonder. I had been granted a rare glimpse into a world that was so vastly different from my own, yet so strikingly beautiful and inspiring. It was a reminder that there is still so much to be learned, so much to be appreciated, in the quieter, more resilient corners of our country.

My time in Jamb had been a short yet humbling and eye-opening experience, and I couldn’t wait to see what the second village, Mandava, had in store. And to think that this is still not the state border, one more block is nestled in god knows what surroundings. A short trailer for the times to come. With a reminder to take more pictures the next time.