Despite my prayers to the rain gods, the persistent drizzle continued. Clearly, my entreaties had fallen on deaf ears. I sat in a cozy bus, resigned to my rainy fate, ears tuned to the pitter-patter, simply awaiting my destination. It came soon after, but not before a series of bumps from the muddy road that diverted from the highway. None of it mattered, however, once I reached Gira Falls.
Though not as large as many others in India, the falls are the jewel in Saputara's crown. Surrounded by what seemed like an unending lush forest, they plunged ferociously into the river, producing a crash that reverberated in the woods for several seconds. This was a pleasant cacophony—one that broke the silence of the jungle.
In my tryst with Gujarat, the falls were a pit stop en route to Baj village. Just a day earlier, I had been strolling across the bustling streets of the quaint hill town of Saputara, enjoying the many flavors of the Monsoon Festival organized by the state tourism board. The month-long annual event pays tribute to the region's bountiful monsoon. Despite my disdain for the rains, I thoroughly enjoyed the festivities, fueled by the exhibitions, cultural programs, food festivals, flash mobs, and games and competitions.
As I navigated through the sea of people to reach the front, where the flash mob was performing, I was astounded by the remarkable fervor with which the locals hailed every performance. After several instances of "excuse me" and "sorry," I was right where the dhol-tasha were being played. A harmony of tutaris signaled the beginning of the performance, and the drums weren't far behind. The unrelenting energy of the performers carried over to the audience, who danced to their heart's content. Needless to say, it was an unforgettable sight.
When Dilip Joshi, known for playing Jethalal on the popular Indian sitcom Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah, took center stage to inaugurate the festival, the audience gave him quite the cheer. Feeling lost among the overly enthusiastic congregation, I pondered the hero status he had gained in Gujarat over the past decade. His every word was met with approval, every sentence with applause, and every joke with incredible laughter.
The waterfall adventure was, in contrast, a tranquil affair. Unfortunately, it had to be cut short once I realized my darkest fear: the light drizzle had become a heavy rain. Luckily, the drive to the next destination was more pleasing to the eye than I had anticipated, as the unrelenting monsoon added to the raw beauty of the Western Ghats.
Baj village is a tribal settlement. The area was once home to several major tribes, such as the Gamit and Kotwalia (or "Landlord"). Six kings traditionally ruled Saputara and its surrounding area. The British admired their valor and allowed them to rule independently, as long as the tribes promised to protect the forest. Their descendants still receive an annual royalty of ₹4 lakh during Holi.
Unlike the majority of Gujarati communities, tribal food features an abundance of meat in the everyday diet. While the region’s food tends to be on the sweeter side, tribal dishes are quite spicy.
A narrow, muddy road winds through the heart of Baj, with thatched and mud houses on either side. Layers of bamboo pillars support these seemingly snug abodes. Most have a single elongated room where the entire family sleeps. While individual privacy has recently become a hot topic of debate, the locals are close-knit and discuss their problems quite openly. After a few minutes of conversation, I felt right at home. The village children, captivated by my camera, asked me to capture their fleeting moments of happiness. I was more than happy to oblige.
On my trip, I discovered two vastly different gems of Gujarat. Baj was a tale of serenity, while the Monsoon Festival was one of absolute frenzy. Even after the sun had set and a blanket of mist had settled in, the locals did not let the festivities die down. The streets of the Gujarat hill station remained frenetic, as if it were a bustling metropolis.
In the evening, as a conclusion to my sojourn, I visited Saputara Lake for a boat ride. There, I watched the sun set behind the silhouettes of the Sahyadri, and the sky transition from cloudy and blue to misty and crimson. It even started to drizzle softly. This time, however, I found myself smiling at the occasion. Quite a turnaround, wasn’t it!
Pro Tip: Gujarat's premier hill station, Saputara, is a five-hour car ride from Mumbai. Protected by the Sahyadri mountains, it offers awe-inspiring beauty during the monsoon, which peaks between late July and early September.