When Winter Comes Calling

 by Rajesh Thomas

"What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness." - John Steinbeck

The train huffs and puffs uphill on one of India’s last remaining mountain railroads like a giant worm, trying to find the easiest gradient up the steep slope. For the excited occupants of the train, it's the key to unlocking a hidden world of unparalleled beauty as the train journeys on through tunnels, twists and turns around the hills, crossing high arch bridges and overlooking some of the most spectacular scenery as the Nilgiri Hills rise over the plains of Coimbatore.

Runnymede, Wellington, Hill Grove, Adderley: exotic names of stations pass by as the train reaches its destination, the town of Ooty, at 7200 feet above sea level. These ancient mountains span approximately 3900 square kilometers, and being blessed with a considerably cooler climate than the surrounding plains, the slopes are dotted with tea fields and vegetable gardens.

Imagine these magnificent mountains being split by a smaller but higher mountain range running from northwest to southeast, with the escarpment overlooking the much gentler hills of Wayanad and the Bandipur, Mudumalai National parks on the northwestern edge.Towards the southeastern side they give way to the Palghat pass.

This mountain range rises up to 8,600 feet above sea level and has a stunningly beautiful landscape with lofty peaks and undulating grasslands interspersed with islands of jungles within its folds along the valleys. Wildlife thrives abundantly here especially in the Mukurthi National park (78 Sq.Kms) and its buffer areas. A handful of estates with their tea fields situated between 7500 feet and 8100 feet above sea level in this part of Upper Nilgiris border the Mukurthi National Park producing some of India’s finest high grown teas.

These estates are unique even to the rest of the Nilgiris as they have  very different vegetation and weather. The high mountains trap the monsoon clouds and prevent them from reaching the interiors of the peninsula and these grasslands, acting much like a giant sponge, absorb the torrential rains during the monsoons and release the water in the ensuing drier seasons. Along with the Mukurthi National Park, the area forms an important catchment area for three major districts of Tamil Nadu. The Bhavani river, a major tributary of the Cauvery River, originates here.

The landscape within the estates is remarkably unique with giant Blue Gum trees ( Eucalyptus globulus ), varieties of wattle (Acacia decurrens and Acacia melanoxlyn ) and evergreen pine trees ( Pinus pinata ) punctuating the tea fields and grasslands. These trees are not native to the land and are introduced species.

These highlands are sparsely inhabited except for the odd Toda tribal settlements. The Todas are the original inhabitants of this land and are nomadic cattle grazers.

As the northeast monsoon recedes and December approaches, there is a noticeable shift in the weather as the days become clearer and the nights colder. A truly Christmassy feeling descends, accentuated by the biting cold as the mercury dips to below zero. The bungalow fireplaces begin to crackle, as the pine and eucalyptus logs blaze merrily.

The fireplace at my bungalow

Mufflers, sweaters, and thermals are in fashion and it’s time for endless cups of tea and hot chocolate, while some others prefer what one of my friends termed “a wee dram” to keep one warm.
The day times are pronounced by the sharp sun, clear cloudless skies and relatively high temperatures reaching 25-degree centigrade. By evening the mercury dips sharply going below zero and by early morning the freezing temperatures result in frost with the tea and the grasslands in the valleys covered with frost.

Frost hit grasslands

Early morning sights make for spectacular viewing with the valleys covered with a film of ice, making them appear crystal white in color. By mid-morning the frost affected tea bushes have a scorched appearance, devoid of any foliage, leaving just the bare frame and the resultant areas being out of plucking for the next few months.

Frost hit tea bushes. Photo taken in early morning

The warmer the mornings, the colder the night, a phenomenon which confounds many a new visitor to these estates. The sub-zero temperatures bring the growth to a grinding halt and crops come crashing into double-digit yield figures for the month. Unlike in the North Indian estates, where there is no plucking during the winter months, in these estates, the winter is when the quality season starts. The freezing cold temperatures along with the slow growth concentrates the enzymes in the tea shoots thereby giving the tea a rare winter character much sought out by the connoisseurs.

Meanwhile, at the Estate Office, frantic emails (letters in the olden days) are exchanged with the Group Office / Head Office giving details of the affected area, anticipated crop loss etc. The same dominate the discussions in the evening at the club bar. The vegetation changes dramatically with the grass turning into a scorched dry yellow, making it the ideal time to spot herbivores. Sizeable herds of Sambar deer and Indian Gaur congregate together to graze on the remaining patches of vegetation on the slopes beyond the reach of frost.

It’s also the time when the Rhododendron trees (rhododendron arboretum, subsp. nilagiricum) begin to bloom. These trees are as ancient as these mountains and are endemic to the Western Ghats. The jungle pockets light up with their crimson red, bell-shaped flowers in winter.

There is also a marked change in the animal world with the onset of winter – Love is in the air.
Sambar stags sport impressive antlers as they vie for the right to mate with the does. Young bucks spar among themselves as curious does watch from the side. The stags generally shed their antlers in the summer and are fully re-grown by winter.

A Sambar stag at Korakundah Tea Estate

The carnivores - the resident leopards and the wandering tiger -  put on their rich, luxuriant winter coats as they search for mates. The long drawn sawing call of the mating leopards is common on cold wintry nights, while rarer is the deep moaning call of the tiger.

The cold icy waters are ideal for Rainbow Trout. Introduced to these waters by the sport-loving British, the trout thrive in these protected waters inside the estates. With the advent of the cold weather, the trout start to swim upstream in search of new spawning grounds. The female trout digs a nest with her tail in the sand among shallow waters. These nests are called “redds”. The female then lays her eggs in them, while the males follow to fertilize them.

Among the avifauna, the most interesting winter visitors to these hills are the Wagtails. The Grey Wagtail migrates all the way from Central Asia for the winter. Just as the arrival of the Wagtails seems to indicate winter is near, their disappearance is a sign that winter is over.

The winters in these hills are witness to some of the most breathtaking sunrises and sunsets. It’s worth getting up at dawn, braving the frosty winter chill to witness a sunrise. The sky in the opposite direction is still dark, but in the east, a mixture of yellow and orange appears on the horizon as the dark ocean of night begins to evaporate. Against a silhouette of mountains and trees that appear as shadows, the sun slowly peeks over the horizon. The sky changes colors rapidly, first into a hue of pink and then as the sun like golden ball ascends slowly, the sky finally becomes deep neon blue as its rays reach further out.

A winter sunrise in the Upper Nilgiris

The still cloudless winter nights make for beautiful star watching if one can brave the sub-zero temperatures. On full moon nights, it’s a striking visual to see a carpet of tiny dots of light all across the night sky, against the faint backdrop of mountains. Those tiny dots are stars, planets, galaxies and nebulae, all far-flung and a part of the visible universe.

A star spangled sky on a winter’s night in the Upper Nilgiris. Photo credit Mr.G.B.Henriksen

The winter, however, comes with its own set of problems. Water in pipes freeze and PVC pipes crack in the intense cold. Before the advent of anti-freeze diesel, vehicles wouldn’t start in the early mornings as diesel would freeze in the tanks, which in turn had to be melted by lighting a fire under the diesel tank. An exercise fraught with danger, as carelessness once ended with a burnt tractor in one of the estates.

As March approaches, the planters and the bushes anxiously await the rains. With the heralding of the first summer showers, the rains appear to breathe new life into the seemingly moribund frost affected tea bushes. Fresh buds sprout from the bare frames and life begins anew. The bushes seem reborn and the circle of life repeats.

Probably, a fitting paradigm to the industry, which has seen tough times, but has ridden these tough times and has flourished time after time.

Meet the writer: Rajesh Thomas

Rajesh is a second generation planter who was born and brought up in the planting districts of Southern India. Don't miss out on his earlier stories - Click on this link to read them: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/search/label/J.Rajesh%20Thomas 

 Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories! 

You will meet many storytellers here at Indian Chai Stories, and they are almost all from the world of tea gardens: planters, memsaabs, baby and baba log. Each of our contributors has a really good story to tell - don't lose any time before you start reading them!

Do you have a chai story of your own to share? Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. 

You will find yourself transported to another world! Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea! 

ADD THIS LINK TO YOUR FAVOURITES : https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/Indian Chai Stories

A Bridge to the Hills

by Gowri Mohanakrishnan

It was a day of bridges.

We decided yesterday that it was time we went to see the Bogibeel bridge. It is almost two weeks since the bridge was thrown open to the public, and we didn't want to miss out on a Sunday drive across the Brahmaputra.

After crossing the Bogibeel we drove on to Pasighat in Arunachal Pradesh. And we discovered a little corner of the Dooars right there, so close to home. The Dooars! In three words, hills, rivers and forests.

To be honest, it was more like the Dooars of the eighties than the present day, since there was no dust, not much traffic and definitely fewer people.

Just another Sunday at the Pasighat bridge over the Siang River, Arunachal Pradesh

Where there were people there was cell phone noise, and there were discarded packets of aluminium foil and plastic bottles. Definitely not the eighties, then. But it was not a day to nit-pick.

The heat was quite intense, surprisingly, and it was a very clear day, which meant we could see many snow covered mountain ranges against the sky. A lot like Nagrakata in the Dooars.

Pristine - the colours were beautiful on this sunny Sunday at the Pasighat bridge over the Siang

We didn't climb very high up into the hills, but it was enough that we could do a day trip in the area. Cold weather Sundays in the Dooars had always meant day trips into the hills – either the Bhutan or Darjeeling hills, depending on whether we were in the eastern or western part. Bogibeel has made all this possible right here in Dibrugarh district.

Oranges
In the Dooars, we purchased oranges by the pound (eighty oranges ) for many years. We'd pay a pittance for these freshly plucked oranges that came from Bhutan or Darjeeling near one or the other of the 'duars' or gateways into the hills: Totopara when we lived in Dalgaon district, Bagrakot when we were in the Western Dooars, and Chamurchi in the Binaguri (central Dooars ) area. Around the mid nineties, the orange sellers in Chamurchi went commercial. The oranges were now sold to exporters, and found their way into Bangladesh. We had to go to our fruitwala in Binaguri bazar and buy oranges that came from Nagpur, when we lived so close to the orange growing region of Bhutan! And did we complain!!

When we lived in the Eastern Dooars,we were very close to Phuentsholing, Bhutan, and we would take a drive up the hill to the international border check post. From there we could see the Torsa valley spread out below us, and the Rajabhatkawa forest in the distance. On our way down, we'd find groups of young women selling oranges. They were used to tourists who came in droves, and my husband would have to bargain hard with them in the local lingo. The ladies always smiled and gave in!

These ladies were beautiful; always well dressed and well groomed, with shiny hair, eye make-up and lipstick. Lipstick seems to be part of the dress code for women in the hills of North East India. When I go up there with my lips uncoloured, I feel almost indecent.

An interesting rock at the place where people stopped their cars to view the bridge

 When we drove up from Pasighat into the hills, there were the beautiful hill ladies - lipsticked, eyes made up, hair shining - sitting and selling plump, freshly plucked oranges. And, glory be, they sold them by the dozen! It's been years since we bought anything but bananas and lemons by the dozen - everything else is sold by the kilo.

Our driver mumbled a question at one of the ladies who held up three fingers in reply and pointed uphill. He told us he'd asked where the ‘Hanging Bridge’ was, and said she had indicated three kilometres. This driver is quite a traveller in his own right, and he’d heard some friends of his talk about the Hanging Bridge. The orange seller could well have meant three hours, or even three days, I ventured out loud.

'Fine, off to Lhasa then!' said my husband, who loves being in the hills more than I do!
Three kilometres in the hills takes more time than it does in the plains, but we reached a 'spot' or 'spote' as it's called in the Dooars, very soon. We saw several parked cars, and people looking down the hillside into a deep gorge. And there, deep down, we saw it - the Hanging Bridge, a rope and bamboo structure, and there were people crossing it!

 At first sight, this may look like a video of ants walking a rope, but do take a closer look!

On our day trips into the hills, we've always had a 'two o'clock rule': two pm is the time to turn back unless you're spending the night out. If only we'd had a little more time, said Mohan. He was all for climbing down to the rope bridge and crossing it.

I said a silent thanks to my watch. I'd had my fill for the day, and there were the oranges to look forward to on our ride back.

Meet The Writer/Editor: Gowri Mohanakrishnan  

I was teaching English at Indraprashta College in Delhi when I met and married my tea planter husband in 1986. He brought me to the tea gardens - a completely different world from the one I knew! Life in tea continues to be unique, and I began writing about ours many years ago.
Early in 2018, I started Indian Chai Stories to collect and preserve other people's stories from tea.

The first chai stories I ever wrote were for a magazine called 'Reach Out' which Joyshri Lobo started in the mid eighties for the Dooars planters. Some years later, Shalini Mehra started 'The Camellia' and I started writing there regularly. Shalini put me in touch with David Air, the editor of Koi-Hai, who gave me a page there. My family has always believed that I can write, and that is what keeps me going, whether I agree with them or not.
Here is the link to all the stories I have written here at Indian Chai Stories - https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/search/label/Gowri%20Mohanakrishnan

Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories! 
If you've ever visited a tea garden or lived in one, or if you have a good friend who did, you would have heard some absolutely improbable stories! You will meet many storytellers here at Indian Chai Stories, and they are almost all from the world of tea gardens: planters, memsaabs, baby and baba log. Each of our contributors has a really good story to tell - don't lose any time before you start reading them! 

Do you have a chai story of your own to share? Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com 
My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true( always ), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. The blog is updated every two to three days. You will find yourself transported to another world!

Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!

Sojourn in Sri Lanka

by Sarita Dasgupta
As far as I’m concerned, it is not a coincidence that Serendip is the old Persian name (‘Serendib’ in Arabic) for the beautiful island of Sri Lanka. The word ‘serendipity’ stems from that, and it means ‘the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way’. When I told Gowri, Editor of Indian Chai Stories, that my sister Rupa and I were going to Sri Lanka in December and hoped to visit some of the tea estates in Nuwara Eliya, she suggested that I get in touch with Devaka Wickramasuriya, a planter from Sri Lanka who also writes for the blogspot. She sent me his email address and I got in touch. As John Barth wrote in The Last Voyage of Somebody the Sailor, “…you don’t reach Serendib by plotting a course for it. You have to set out in good faith for elsewhere and lose your bearings … serendipitously.”

With the hospital staff , Nadun (left) and Anura (right) at Pedro

When Devaka took matters into his own hands and organized our visits to the MJF Centre in Colombo and two of the most beautiful tea estates in the Nuwara Eliya area, I just followed John Barth’s advice, and left it to him!

We reached Colombo on the evening of 12 December and were struck by the cleanliness of the city and the friendliness of the people. Devaka got in touch to find out if we had reached safely and whether or not the hotel was satisfactory. I was touched by his concern and assured him that we were fine. The next evening, he and his charming wife Kamalini came to pick us up at 7pm on the dot. (The punctuality of tea planters everywhere!) Meeting them was like meeting old friends – we felt an immediate rapport with this warm and friendly couple.

Rupa, Kamalini, Devaka and Sarita

They took us for dinner to the Mount Lavinia Hotel. This majestic building dates back to 1805, when the 46-year-old bachelor, General Sir Thomas Maitland, sailed to the island of Ceylon as the second British Governor. He fell in love with a captivating local dancer called Lavinia, and built a mansion right on the seafront. A secret tunnel was constructed, leading from the cellar of his mansion to the home of his lady love nearby. Years later, the mansion was converted into a hotel and named after Lavinia, the reason for its existence.

Devaka had asked David Colin-Thome, Editor of the Dilmah Tea sponsored History of Ceylon Tea website, to arrange our visit to the MJF Centre (named after Merrill Joseph Fernando, founder of Dilmah Tea) the headquarters of the MJF Charitable Foundation. David very kindly did so, and we went to the Centre on the morning of the 14th. We were taken around the Dilmah Conservation Sustainable Agriculture Research Centre which supports research on sustainable agriculture and promotes organic home gardening methods. The vegetable garden reminded us very much of our ‘mali baris’ in the tea estates of Assam. It was very interesting to see the aquaponic project - a system that combines conventional aquaculture (raising aquatic animals, such as fish, in tanks) with hydroponics (cultivating plants in water) in a symbiotic environment. We saw many different kinds of butterflies in the Butterfly Garden, a haven for butterflies in the midst of a busy city.

The Butterfly Garden

 We were privileged to watch the children of the Rainbow Centre (children with special needs) and the MJF Kids Programme (children from low income families) dance to catchy tunes, rehearsing for a concert to be held on the 16th. Seeing their smiling faces and enthusiasm as they responded to the affectionate encouragement of their teachers, was a heartwarming experience.

The next day, we drove through the scenic landscape on the Hatton road to Somerset tea estate (Talawakelle Tea Estates PLC). As we entered the beautifully located, stone-façaded and elegant Manager’s Bungalow, we were warmly welcomed by Eranga Egodawele and his lovely wife, Tarun, who served us a delicious lunch. After a cup of tea, Eranga took us to the factory where we were welcomed with garlands made of tea leaves. I’ve spent almost my whole life in Tea but never seen a tea-leaf garland before! But what could be more appropriate?

With Eranaga at Somerset

 The Factory has a wonderful old wooden staircase connecting the different levels. Through the large glass panes of the windows, one can see an endless, undulating vista of tea bushes. Eranga, an expert tea taster himself, very kindly encouraged us greenhorns to taste the teas. Fortunately, having watched my grandfather, father and husband taste teas, I knew the ritual and managed a creditable performance (I hope!). Sujeev, who looks after the factory, took us around, explaining the process, which was as familiar as the smell of tea leaves undergoing the various stages of the manufacturing process. (As that is a fragrance dearer to me than the most exotic perfumes of the world, I inhaled it in lungfuls!!) I was happy to see the familiar Trinic (or Trinick) Sorter, named after its inventor, the legendary tea taster, late John Maxwell Trinick, who had a very long association with the Williamson Magor Group (McLeod Russel) and whom I was privileged to write about for The Camellia some years ago.

We were presented with packets of Somerset estate’s famous BOP tea by our courteous host, Eranga, as we took our leave. On our way out, we stopped at the Somerset Tea Centre to buy some strawberry jam but, alas, someone had pipped us to the post and bought the last bottle! We drove on to Nuwara Eliya which is very reminiscent of a small town in England, and walked around admiring the festive lights in all the buildings.

The next morning, after a quick look at the quaint (still functioning) Post Office, Gregory Lake and the beautiful golf course, we drove to the picturesque Pedro estate (Kelani Valley Plantations PLC) and straight to the factory where the Deputy General Manager, Anura Senanayake, and his ‘second-in-command’ Nadun Madhushan, greeted us most warmly. They took us to see the hospital where the lady doctor, midwife and other staff were happy to show us around and tell us about the wonderful work they are doing especially towards the welfare of women and children. Seeing some women plucking close by, I was struck by their lightweight baskets. Anura let us take a closer look at the innovative baskets which are strapped around the plucker’s waist, have a peaked cap attached and can hold 7 kg of tea. He mentioned that the baskets were Dr Rajadurai’s idea.

Pluckers at Pedro

 Anura and Nadun then very kindly took us to Pidurutalagala, the highest peak in Sri Lanka. As we drove through a thick forest (with signs warning us to look out for leopards!) we were fortunate enough to see the Nelu flowers which bloom once in twelve years.

After a sumptuous lunch at Anura’s charming bungalow, we took a tour of the factory, escorted by Nadun and a woman worker. The latter explained the various stages of the manufacturing process very professionally. Being fascinated by tea chests and their role in the history of tea, I was thrilled to see one displayed in the vestibule of the factory on our way out. Sitting on the deck of the Tea Boutique, we sipped on refreshing cups of Pedro tea and admired the breathtaking view. As we were leaving, we were presented with packets of the much lauded Pedro tea by our generous host, Anura.
On our return to Colombo after our travels around the historic sites of Sigiriya and Anuradhapura, I was pleasantly surprised to bump into Dr Roshan Rajadurai – Managing Director of both Talawakelle Tea Estates PLC and Kelani Valley Plantations PLC – at a wedding reception. Serendipity once again! I was glad of this opportunity to thank him for arranging for us to visit Somerset and Pedro on Devaka’s request.

A spot of 'tasting'

I was overwhelmed by the warmth, kindness and courtesy extended to us – complete strangers – by Devaka, Dr Rajadurai, Eranga, Anura and David. I have, of course, experienced the closeness of the tea community in our own country but now realize that it extends to the tea fraternity worldwide.
As a wise soul said, “We don’t meet people by accident… they were meant to cross our paths for a reason.” Our lives have been enriched by meeting Devaka & Kamalini Wickramasuriya, Dr Roshan Rajadurai, Eranga & Tarun Egodawele, Anura Senanayake, Sujeev, Nadun Madhushan, and the teachers and children of the MJF Centre. They played a major role in making our Sojourn in Sri Lanka such a memorable one. Ayubowan!

Meet the writer, Sarita Dasgupta: 

"As a ‘chai ka baby’ (and grandbaby!) and then a ‘chai ka memsahab’, I sometimes wonder if I have tea running through my veins! 

I have been writing for as long as can remember – not only my reminiscences about life in ‘tea’ but also skits, plays, and short stories. My plays and musicals have been performed by school children in Guwahati, Kolkata and Pune, and my first collection of short stories for children, called Feathered Friends, was published by Amazing Reads (India Book Distributors) in 2016. My Rainbow Reader series of English text books and work books have been selected as the prescribed text for Classes I to IV by the Meghalaya Board of School Education for the 2018-2019 academic session, and I have now started writing another series for the same publisher.
I am also the Editor of The WM Times, McLeod Russel’s bi-annual house journal." - Sarita Dasgupta

Sarita was one of the first 'Indian Chai Stories' writers - this page wouldn't ever have taken off without the wonderful tea memsaab storytellers (more on this later)!
Have you read Sarita's earlier stories? The Gracious Hostess,  followed by The Dastoor called 'Acting'  and River Escapade are all full of the irrepressible spirit of fun!
And don't miss Nick Flittner's story about the tea chest - Nick's Treasured Chest

A Word Of Welcome
Is this your first visit here?  Welcome to Indian Chai Stories!
If you've ever visited a tea garden or lived in one, or if you have a good friend who did, you would have heard some absolutely improbable stories!

You will meet many storytellers here at Indian Chai Stories, and they are almost all from the world of tea gardens: planters, memsaabs, baby and baba log. Each of our contributors has a really good story to tell - don't lose any time before you start reading them!

My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story: a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny, always true( always ), maybe a tall tale, or long, short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. 

Do you have a chai story of your own to share?
Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com.
The blog is updated every two to three days. You will find yourself transported into another world!
Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!
Gowri