On a forest trail that winds up in a herbal park
Rajnish Wattas

An aesthetically designed bamboo hut in the herbal park, which is spread over 50 acres

"WE will leave for the forest at 5.30 am sharp," announced Dhar Sahib. The after-dinner conversation comes to an abrupt end. It had all been about stately sal forests, wildlife — comprising black buck, spotted deer, wild fowl, wild boar – and the possibility of even sighting a leopard; making for tall jungle tales. As I have never seen a forest dawn before, viewing majestic trees in the silence of nature — except for the sounds of wildlife — excites me.

I almost feel like a ‘new age Jim Corbett’ resting his feet after a long day in the jungle on a man-eater’s trail.

After the 150-km-long sub-mountainous drive from Chandigarh, we had reached Kalesar late in the night and had settled down in the verandah of the 100-year-old colonial dak bungalow after a hearty dinner. The forest resthouse located at a picturesque point commands a sweeping view of the Yamuna river. Surrounded with multi-layered gardens, and as typical of the ‘Raj’ bungalow architecture, there are high-ceiling rooms, exquisite parquet flooring and teak panelling along walls. A fireplace with a mantelpiece above and antique furniture completes the period setting.

I am jolted out of deep slumber with a tray of piping hot tea brought by the chowkidar at 5 am. It is still dark outside, but by the time our cavalcade of sarkari Ambassadors and Gypsies arrives, the distant hills stand silhouetted against the first pinkish-blue light. The convoy is led by S.K.Dhar (fondly addressed as Dhar Sahib), Chief Conservator of Forests, Haryana, who is not only a forester of international repute but also a great raconteur of jungle lore. We ride — lost in reverie — first along the highway and then suddenly on a dirt road where a faded billboard announces entry into the reserve forest. The ride becomes very bumpy and our escorts keep considering the option of shifting on to the Gypsies – but the car is truly ambidextrous and the driver supremely skilled to take on the jungle road.

Although dawn is breaking; in the heart of the sal forests, you still find dark shadows and a haunting silence. Dhar Sahib suddenly orders that the vehicles be stopped. Has a leopard been sighted, I wonder, my heart palpitating wildly. No, it is another beauty of the jungle — the sindoor tree —that he wants to show us. A small-sized tree, it has dainty flowers, which turn into pods to produce the vermilion sindoor that adorns the tresses of married women.

Now we are in a dense forest. Besides the tall, leafy sal trees that constitute the age-old forest belt of the Doon valley, there are also other trees like semul, amaltas and bahera. Climbers snake up the tree stems, and the forest floor is littered with fallen leaves and foliage plants. Sculptural anthills dot the landscape. Then we spot a watering hole created by the Forest Department to quench the thirst of wild animals. All our hopes of spotting any wildlife around it are dashed; as none can be seen. But suddenly we see the forest ahead with a magical light; there is a play of light and shadow on the leaves and tree stems. The rays of the sun filter through and illuminate a pebbled dry rivulet. A vast stretch of forest clearing is in sight. It’s not a natural clearing but a man-made one; and what is called in forestry parlance a ‘fire line.’ Dhar Sahib explains us in detail the intricate task of containing forest fires, which once if they start off, even by a carelessly thrown bidi, can turn into a raging forest inferno. Who says foresters only live paradisiacal lives, romancing nature and the great outdoors!

As we take a breakfast break, I jokingly ask Dhar Sahib whether he could at least show me a jungle machchan if not the promised leopard? Pat comes the reply, "Yes, I can, provided you promise to climb up to it." Although never known for agility with my portly frame, I accept the challenge. And off we are to a high observation tower with a dangerous-looking service ladder. Saying my prayers, I gingerly hoist myself up to the top. And the effort is rewarded by a sweeping panorama of the 11000 acres of the great sal forest; criss-crossed by fire lines and meandering rivulets. We take a closer look of various features — still hoping to catch a fleeting glimpse of the elusive leopard! Finally it’s both symbolically and literally a climb-down. The forest trail is over; but not the lingering whiffs of its smells, sights and the rustle of wind caressing the trees.

Our next destination is about 20km away on the Chuharpur road, the Chaudhari Devi Lal Herbal Nature Park, a prestigious, innovative project of the Haryana Forest Department.

India has a rich tradition of using wild plants for treating various ailments. Ayurveda, the indigenous system of medicine, thrives on natural medicinal plants. In fact, the Shivalik Himalayas have been known to be the source of a large number of valuable medicinal plants. A repeated mention of Kalika Kashetra (now Kalka) is made in Sanskrit ayurvedic texts for its valuable medicinal plant wealth and a flourishing trade in it.

One of the major reasons for the under utilisation of this vast resource of medicinal plant wealth found in the Shivaliks, is the lack of awareness. Realising this, the Herbal Nature Park at Chuharpur — inaugurated on November 6, 2001— was developed for research and popularisation of cultivation of medicinal plants in the area by local people.

The park, spread over 50 acres with 61,000 shrubs of herbs and 6100 medicinal tree plants, has a lake and meandering paths along which are laid out herb-beds. With a beautifully landscaped garden, the park is not only ideal for picnics and weekend outings but also imparts education on the herbs found in the country.

Since the park is spreads over a large area, a small herbal garden near the entrance has been made. It aesthetically displays more than 200 varieties of different medicinal plants.

Some of the more familiar names of herbs that catch our attention are: ashwagandha, bhumi, amlaki, brahmi, makoy, rudraksh, sarpgandha and shatavari. But one herb that catches our fancy is safed musli (chlorophytum borivillanium) — popularly called the ‘Indian Viagara.’ No one has any doubts about its tremendous sale potential; and we are informed that the local farmers are all set to cultivate it in a big way!

Then there is a ‘poly house’ for preparing planting material and a greenhouse for protecting young tender plants before plantation.

By now our long walk in the park has tired us out, and it’s time for another break. We are soon served piping hot tea and pakoras in a beautiful bamboo cottage. This has been built to serve as an information centre for visitors. Bamboo has been preferred as the building material since it blends well with the natural surroundings. Its indigenous and innovative architecture could be the envy of any creative architect — including me!

As we get back into our cars to head back home for Chandigarh – the long drive lulls me into a gentle slumber. I dream of being a rishi of ancient times, offering life-saving herbs to suffering humanity. Although there is no apsara to disturb my meditations, a hard knock by the driver, to inform me that we are already in Chandigarh, cuts short the daydream! But not really, my heart still wanders in the forests, dark and deep – in search of miraculous herbs.