May 29...I was too lazy to wake up early in the morning (3 am imagine!) But strong will power and excitment of the forthcoming trek woke me up. We were all ready to go. Mr. Arun halted his car near our house and we loaded all our luggage in and set out to experience a world of absolute beauty and calm. Mallelateertham in the heart of the Nallamala hills was our destination. We were to visit the waterfalls there and go on a mild trek to a place which is known to shelter a vaudeville of aves. As we reached Habsiguda, the rest of the group joined. we reached Sarlapalli, from where we left for the waterfalls.

 The path was a great descent into the woods. We couldn't find any wild animal there but got to see a swarm of butterflies sitting on a rock, while a few were flying all over the place. There we could see a hint of the waterfall, that grew bigger with further descent. after a long and tiring trek we reached the final basin where all the water from the waterfall pooled and left from one corner. Mr. Arun, the organiser, then pointed towards a huge bee hive, which suddenly started moving. Mr. Pathi, who was with us in the group, observed it with his binoculars and then declared that it was a bear!

We started walking back...it wasn't a complete walk though. It was a tedious rock climbing, which was further made difficult by the sun that heated up the rocks and burnt our palms. The final ascent was a flight of steps which set the toughest ordeal for us. I was half expecting I'd roll down the stairs. But at last we made it out and then had our lunch.

The lunch we had was noodles cooked up by Arun and with a modest fire set up using dried twigs and branches and of course, paper. After the meal, we all rested for a while, and then pitched up tents. Cooking dinner was the job at hand and everyone was conducing whatever they could to accomplish the MISSION. A bonfire too was put up. We all sat around it in a circle. We were acompanied by two inhabitants of the village: Pothayya, who belonged to the chenchu tribe that inhabited that place, and Srikanth whose family had migrated to that place. Pothayya sang to us, a song which he wrote and composed. After the song, we all had our dinner, retired to our camps.

The next morning, we set out for bird-watching in a forest nearby. We got lucky as we spotted a herd of deer, that obviously galloped away as we went nearer. We also tasted fruits called Nekkirapandu and Janapandu, whose english translation I don't know. We also spotted a variety of birds like the blue jays, bee eaters, parakeets, drangos, green pigeon, iora, tree pie, etc. It was a true treat for all of us.

After the tedious trek that we did for all the bird-watching, we started back to Hyderabad, carrying with us memories that will last a lifetime.

I love the colour grey. Yousuf Kharsh, when asked why all his photographs are black and white, though colour films were available, said," its not black and white, its grey." Its the most powerful colour as I believe. it can puncuate almost any figure. it can add an ostentatious air, a mysterious one, a vile one. it can make things look transparent, it can make them opaque. A person with slightly negative qualities or behaviour is said to have grey shades.


Black is complete, but grey is the part that gives life to the otherwise pitch black. Its not just a shade, its a clour. The colour of emotions, of negativity, of stoic natures, of the tempest in the uprisal. Its deeper shades, in harmony with the lighter shades, gives the feel of agony, of a battle in process. Of a climax that is round the corner.

Its the colour of the nimbus clouds...reminding me of rains. sending me to the nostalgia of the previous monsoons...giving me the feel of damp earth, cool breezes, strong, cold winds, newly washed greens of the leaves after rains. The colour reminding me of the different emotions that infest the human soul independently, and in blends.

Its grey....not black, not white.
Its my favourite colour.