The curious incident of the cat in the day-time

Yesterday, as I rode my moped along a narrow curvy road in Candolim Goa, from the corner of my eye I saw someone lifting up a big white cat and placing it by the side of the road. I turned back to check if it was dead and saw that the cat was a big boku (a male cat in Konkani) and was in fact alive and taking short breaths, each breath ending with a short meow-like call. 

The cat's eyes were golden with narrow black vertical slit pupils and looked intense. On a side note, I recently found out that predators such as cats have vertical slit pupils and prey species such as deer have horizontal slit pupils. As I looked at his eyes, I could not have fathomed what could be going on in that active feline brain of his but I was sure he was in pain. I was convinced that the cat would die because he had an injury on his leg with some bleeding and probably had an impact injury on the head too. I thought that I would wait for a minute or two to see him die; I could not get myself to leave before that. I lifted up the cat and put him in shade since the tarmac was hot and the May-sun was intense at noon.

I asked the guy who had picked up the cat if he had any water to give the cat, upon which he left on his bike to get a bottle of water. I sat by this big boku comforting him during his last moments of life. Water was brought and I tried to get the cat to lick some water but it was in shock and showed no response. I cleaned his wound and face a bit and it spun me a sudden look but did not follow it up with a sound or action. In a few minutes, a couple came by on a scooter who knew the people whose cat he was. He stepped off his bike and touched the cat, upon which it sprang up!

It certainly looked like one of his seven lives had come to life and while it limped a little on the leg that was wounded, it moved very fast and shook off his last few minutes of trauma! I was sitting there on the ground by the side of the road with a bottle of water and was suddenly looking silly. I slowly got up, started my moped and off I left, smiling that the boku was still alive. I am unsure if it went on somewhere else and collapsed or got completely alright. Maybe I can look for it the next time I go there.

I realised I should ride my moped slow when there is no emergency. Although on this occasion I was slow enough, there are other times when I am moving swiftly to be somewhere on time. This incident, I am hoping, will remind me to ride slow and enjoy the ride, take in the view. I also realised one more—perhaps more important—thing. Whenever an animal is fallen by the side of the road, I must check whether it is alive or dead; it may be alive and immobile and desperately need someone's help.

The beachkeeper

The beach in front of the house (photo by Satheesh PM)

Along the Western coast of India in Karwar district is a place intentionally kept hidden that can be visited either upon recommendation by a previous visitor or invitation by the host. Three sandy beaches, one rocky one full of diverse tide pools, four Mudhol hounds, and big boulders at the edge of the beach make this place ethereal.

This beach is a hidden treasure accessible only by kayak (photo by Satheesh PM)

 

As Elrika and I reached the laterite plateau next to the sea, Satheesh, who has set up the mentioned place arrived in his Isuzu and asked if my car has 4-wheel drive; I said yes its a Duster 4WD. He inspected the clearance and the four-wheel housing of the car and concluded that my car couldn't make the journey down to the place. So we parked the car at one of the properties on the plateau and drove with him to the property by the beach. I agreed with him after driving down. My car would have got stuck in the sand right next to the house we were to stay in.

Holigarna arnottiana with fruits

Holigarna arnottiana with fruits

Satheesh purchased these three properties 17 years back and has been delicately taking care of the place by planting trees and ensuring that the tidal vegetation and the hillslopes around are not encroached upon or cleared. It was an absolute pleasure to see a large Holigarna arnottiana, an evergreen tree endemic to the Western Ghats, on the slope facing the house on the beach.

Meticulously, he renovated an existing home with the choiciest of material; old used wood, earthy clay flooring, lovely colours on the walls and all the amenities one would have access to in a 5-star hotel including a sea-view loo and bathtub. Being in a semi-wild tucked away beach with all these amenities gives you the 'Englishman-in-New-York' feels, wild but cosy; slowly you slip into the well curated ambience here.

Tired from the drive, after an evening conversation with Satheesh about his experiences and dinner, we slipped into a deep sleep to the calming sounds of the sea; we were less than 10 m from the high tide water line. Last time Elrika remembers sleeping with the sounds of the sea was during her field work in the Andamans. An hour after we slept, we were woken up by the sound of pre-monsoon rain and the air got very cool.

The tide pool on a clear day (photo by Satheesh PM)

Periwinkles on a rock

          Periwinkles on a rock

The next morning we walked up to the rocky tide pool and although it was only early May, it felt like monsoon since the sea was stormy and rough and the water in the tide pools was murky. Still, Elrika took a dip into what looked like a one-person-size tide pool and found interesting organisms. 

Snorkelling in a true infinity pool (photo by Satheesh PM)

    

That is the most interesting aspect of a rocky tide pool; the closer you look, the more alive it becomes with diverse organisms such as mussels, barnacles, oysters, crabs, limpets, chitons, periwinkles and other such lesser known tide pool-dwellers that often home in to the exact spot they were in during the last low tide.

On the drive back from the plateau to the beach again, we saw a laterite mine that is still active. Laterite was being cut as we passed by like the sweet Mysore Pak in rectangular blocks. Over the next day, we learnt that in June last year, a 6000 hectare area, 8.2 km along the coast and 6 km into the water was declared a Marine Sanctuary. The hope is that the Forest Department would have the funds and manpower to patrol the sanctuary to stop the mining on the plateau and trawling in the sea within the sanctuary.

Satheesh has been documenting the marine strandings on this beach over the years, a Baleen whale, a humpback dolphin, and an olive ridley turtle had been washed ashore. He also rescued a seagull that fell off a white-bellied sea eagle's nest, which flew away after ten days of care. He has over a hundred observations on iNaturalist of marine and terrestrial organisms. Overall, Satheesh's story is inspiring...holding on to a place and taking care of it in the way he is, is indeed motivating. Every natural place on our planet needs that much care and attention.

On a last note, the Thalassery food cuisine delicately tuned by Satheesh deserves a special mention. The food adds to the mystery of the place; parboiled rice, fish curry and fish fry, boiled banana, pickle and papad feels like a visit to Kerala for a meal! The fish was very fresh since the fishermen are closeby and every dish had been meticulously planned and executed; the food is indeed poetry in taste.

Atypical Goan day

 [the title similar to my other post 'Atypical Bomdo evening', you might enjoy that one] 

Normalcy is highly underrated. I realised it the hard way today. The day was like any other day in my home in Goa. Wake up at 530 thanks to a friendly lick by my dog Cheeni, head to the beach with the dogs so they get their long walk, play and good exercise. 7 am, come back, release the five chicken from their coop; they are hungry and at least one of them wants to lay an egg! Grind the precious Third Wave coffee beans for twenty minutes and make a brew; I love this slow process, I smell the coffee way before it is made. Water the plants and note things ready for harvest, usually squash, brinjal, chillies, papaya, guavas, or bananas. Feed the chicken. French press the ground coffee powder, drink the coffee, again slowly. And then on Tuesdays, leave for a Jiujitsu session.

Jiujitsu has changed my life over the last year. A game of body-chess, it teaches me to not panic in adversity. Big guy, 90 kg heavy, sitting on top of me and me going breathless; no problem. Keep breathing, make the frames, break the posture, slide in, sweep the guy down! Sounds basic, but took me a year to learn to stay this calm. It is a bit like scuba diving, the calmer you breath, the longer the oxygen tank lasts and you can enjoy the view. Replace those with lungs in Jiujitsu! Anyway, we drilled some moves for 45 minutes at the Lighthaven gym today and it was time to roll, the part in which you remain calm but assertive with the body. I look forward to the rolls in every session at the gym; its the time to practice what we have learnt.

One roll done; each roll is about 5 minutes long, which feels way way longer during the roll! I was on to the second one and within a minute my leg got entangled, knee got twisted and then the leg got locked, I could not straighten my leg anymore. I excuse myself from the roll, apologising to my partner and sit out the rest of the rolls; thanks to Jiujitsu perhaps, I don't panic. It was time to go home and get this damn leg straightened. Asked my friend to start my TVS XL100 bike since I could not kick the bikestarter with the right leg and ride home, 17 km away! This has happened twice before in the last year, and usually after a few hours, the lock unfolds itself and I am fine. So I have been and am calm and got home back to more chores.

Limping around the house, I feed the chicken again at 330 pm. Could not walk the dogs in the afternoon, so I opened up the home gate and being such nice dogs, they went for a stroll by themselves and came back, one by one; I am very proud of them. 5 pm, cook the dogs food, 7 pm feed them. Still limping.

At 730, I am hoping that by the time I post this, my leg is back to normal and that I cherish the importance of normalcy, and I would never again underestimate it! Rex, my big dog never left my side today, he probably knows something is wrong with me! Its impossible to know what can and might happen in the next moment. So I will cherish every mundane activity and conversation as much as possible and live in the present—all this is obvious but I realise it much more on a day like today.

Cut to 9 pm and I was able to click the knee back lying on my bed facing down and straightening my leg. The leg is back in position and life moves on again. I feel normal and this is so precious. Thanks to the leg lock I read several pages of the 'The ghost eye' book by Amitav Ghosh, and focused on reading or writing. And I wrote this article to remind myself about this day! Tomorrow, back to the usual schedule again. But I look forward to it!

I will for sure wake up smiling at 530 am, and wonder what the day holds. I am expecting definitely less pain than today! As I tuck myself in at 10 pm, I think to myself, 'What an atypical Goan day'!

An ode to a tree

Special thanks to Divya Mudappa and TR Shankar Raman for remembering
which sapling I planted two decades ago!

Out there somewhere far far away, 

on a beautiful hill near a stream

Stands tall a tree you planted, 

feels like eons ago

While a bird perches on it

to get a good view of its prey,

another sucks whole a juicy berry, 

flies away

Flying wonders come visiting the bright red flowers

while walking wonders march along root to branch

The roots talk to the soil through friendly fungi

And the branches have begun hosting socials with vibrant orchids

When you can't sleep at night,

you feel you couldn't change a thing

Remember that seed became a seedling, 

and that tree may one day, a hub tree

A Dueulogy

I always nap in the afternoon when home in Goa. This afternoon I woke up with the shock of knowing that Suresh Jones—a dear friend, founder of the Loris organisation, inhabitant of the 'Marlboro country' in Madanapalli, keeper of the Eastern Ghats in Chitoor district, a knowledge repository of the biodiversity around Madanapalli and Rishi valley, and above all a very kind human being—is no more. In fact that he had passed away a week ago. Recovering from this shock I realised that it is important to pen down a few words remembering him even if I am a week late. May his soul roam the Eastern Ghats which he fondly loved and took care of.

Suresh Jones in his home in Madanapalli with his cherished dog Lassy

I was in touch with him once every month at least and knew that he was unwell for a while and was visiting Bangalore for kidney dialysis. A few months passed without calling him, and I kept telling myself I need to check on him, but alas I am more than a week late.

I have fond memories of visiting him from Bangalore. I once rode up to his place from Bangalore on a bullet bike I borrowed and a few times in my car. As we would reach his home, he would lay out in excitement the wonderful plan ahead. For dinner, there would be the secret ancestral recipe of garlic-pepper pork with just five ingredients and rasam. We would bring a few beers back home towards the evening and of course an evening walk was always planned through Marlboro country, a landscape that had rocky hillocks sprinkled with shrubbery with millet and rice fields around.

The 'Marlboro country' that Suresh loved and cared for a lot

We would chat about music, nature conservation, wildlife, our dogs and other pets, and life in general and then in the night look at the sky while closing up a beautiful day. Although I have a bunch of memories of a dozen visits at least, I feel I need to think hard to come up with the details: the sightings of the yellow-throated bulbuls, visiting the caves and caverns, his long descriptions of the geological faults on the rocks, the myriad plants along the way and their scientific names, one that literally stands out is Shorea roxburghii, which is largely restricted to the Eastern Ghats.

In all, with his passing I further realise how fragile life is and how much we need to cherish what we have, acknowledging things out of our control and commiting to trying to do the things that are indeed in our control. I hope you roam the Eastern Ghats with the yellow-throated bulbuls, the lions, the four-horned antelopes and Shorea roxburghii trees Suresh. I will always remember our wonderful times together and how kind and affectionate human being you were.

The gentle giant with a heart of gold

A friends family arrives to my Goa home every year during the new year eve. We play a little music, we discuss life, we visit a Japanese restaurant for lunch, we grill some fish and vegetables for the eve, we dry some coconuts and make oil, and sometimes we exchange musical instruments. I gave Mallika my guitar for a year couple of years back, I gave Mallika and Gokul a few drum lessons and sold Gokul drums last year, and this year Mallika left her guitar for me.

Trying to play a song a day, three days back I tried the song 'Heart of Gold' by Neil Young; turned out quite nice. Shared it with a few friends on a WhatsApp group of close friends whom I have known for two decades at least and for some reason I asked them to share their music and other creative experiments too, "Life is short" I told them, with no apparent context.

The next day we hear that one of the friends in the group Ashwin is no more. Passed away in Valparai, Tamil Nadu. Most of us on that group and many other folks who have known him are in shock and disbelief. He was one of the nicest, warmest, kindest persons I know. I had met him in Mysore around 2010 and we shared some pork recipes, few beers and some field tales. I visited him at this field station from where he was monitoring and helping mitigate human-elephant conflict for years.

Photo by Ovee Thorat

As I absorb the tragedy and come to terms with life, I do realise something even more deeply what I've known and was aware for years. If you have a wish list, a desire to do something, a craving to learn something new, an old friend to catch up with who you have forgotten for a while just because life came in between, a desire to get healthier, want to try running a marathon, or anything else, do it Now! For years, I have been wanting to get back to writing and the inertia just kept it that way, but this shock has made me want to pursue everything I have been thinking I will do tomorrow, next month, next year, now.

Life is indeed short and this man with a heart of gold will always live in my memory.

 

Lows and highs—ebbs and tides—fall and rise

The sea water during high tide on a beach gushes in loudly and surprises me with how high it rises. It moves in slowly but reaches out far in and grasps as much sand and other substrate as it can and drags it back. Then, there is a lull that lasts a brief moment. Apparently, it is possible to realise this lull, to even hear the silence, before the tide turns. Within a few seconds, the low tide begins and slowly the water recedes, till the next lull and the next high tide—an infinite cycle.

My mind works in the same way, in as far as I have known. There is no way for me to find out if it works this way for others too. There is a period of a lowest-low and then slowly the rise begins. In this phase, I can usually accomplish a lot more things than I expect of myself. And for both these, I have triggers. Having lived with this cycle as long as I have been around, I have started documenting what the triggers are. For several years, I was grappling with the lows; calling them blues, depression, listlessness, lack of motivation, and other similar words. I am still dealing with them, but I am now more aware of the patterns. There are highs and lows and brief peaceful moments in between and there are triggers for the switch between the phases. As long as I am aware of this chaology, I can address, a few times avoid, and at other times even remain calm through a storm. In the chaos lies the peace within; and it is inevitable for me to embrace it.

The triggers must differ for others but a run, a long walk, some time spent gardening definitely can tip my mood from a low to high or a good one to better. Writing, definitely helps too as you possibly figure seeing this blog and its posts! In any case, being aware of each of these phases and knowing that the tide will turn for sure is immensely useful.

I look forward to writing more often on my blog this year; see you back here in a few!

Rex takes me to the sea everyday.

A legacy lives on

The first time I met Yoayella, whom I affectionately call Yoyo, was during Elrika's month-long seagrass survey around the main Andaman island. A small humble, ever-smiling, strong, and hard-working person from the Karen community from Burma. He has been working with Elrika for over a decade. After several tiring snorkeling sessions, he would still have the energy to go back into the water and spearfish. 

To see him spearfish is other-worldly! He would wear a mask, snorkel, and fins and dive down with a spear, descend and often wait behind a large rock for a shoal of fish. Snap a grouper, hook it to a line, and continue—business-as-usual. There were five of us on the boat, so two big fish or three smaller fish would be what he would target. By the time I've taken several long breaths at the surface, Yoayella is still waiting behind a rock; I was just probably breathing more just looking at him holding his breath that long! Corals with several colours, hundreds of fish, the sunlight diffusing from above to the seabed, an occasional big fish or a big shoal of small fish, and Yoayella spearfishing, all make a fascinating sight. It is a vivid memory I just need to close my eyes to recreate, no photograph needed. 

Lunch on the boat was standard; Dal, potatoes, and rice with some fish. This continued for so many days that while passing some villages, we would exchange a few fish for a local chicken. And sometimes we would have 'Nappi' a tasty fermented-shrimp-paste. Our boatman Alonthey had got Nappi and he was keen on buying brinjal/eggplant. We were confused, what connection does a brinjal have with Nappi? So, when we bought brinjals, he roasted them on the stove and mixed Nappi with onions and chillis, and it did taste divine! But I drift; back to Yoayella.

Last week, I snorkeled with him over a reef and he was accompanied by another person—his kid Kane. We went to his home at Karmatang from Mayabunder and he had a set plan for us. We were all going to 'picnic' by the beach, that is, eat a big brunch after snorkeling for a few hours beyond the Karmatang beach on the east. As we reached his home, we were offered a welcome drink; fresh coconut water, and the reception committee was Yoayella, his wife Phoolmani, his son Kane, and Kane's cousin Chintu. Yoayella has diversified his livelihood now after years of trying to get into a Government Department. He has pigs, chickens, ducks, and paddy and is planning on opening a small local groceries shop too, besides working with the Nature Conservation Foundation. After having the coconut water, he offered us bananas, which were delicious too. He announced to us his plan and brought out all the picnic food; a big bucket of rice, chicken curry, Nappi, dal, salad, and beans sabzi. All to be carried six km away to the beach. He also has a basic Maruti Van now; I say basic because the engine works and the wheels are fine; sitting behind we even got a look at one of the shock absorbers from inside the vehicle! It seems a bit tricky, but whatever works, works here in the islands.

We got to the beach and that's where I saw something which made me write this post.

As we donned our equipment, Yoayella casually took Kane to the sea wearing a mask himself and with another one for Kane. While I walked so delicately on the slippery rocks to reach the sea, Yoayella was already there in 5 feet of water with his kid hopping from one rock to another and now Kane is piggybacking over him and Yoayella is talking to him and taking short dips into the sea and getting Kane acquainted with the sea. Sometime later, he was teaching Kane how to swim as well, basically telling him everything Kane needed to know to get comfortable in the sea. Kane is about five years old and already getting familiar with this habitat that comprises a big part of their lives. I imagine he will get better at it with time, maybe he will spearfish in a few years too. Someday, I'd like to watch him from above, admiring what he's doing, much like his dad. 

Photo by Evan Nazareth

A Noble island

Imagine firstly a ten-hectare wooded parcel of land, next imagine it's an island with hardly any people living on it and very few inhabitations around the island, so in the night the sky lights up with stars brighter than the horizon. Add to that mango, jackfruit, betelnut, pepper, and coconut plantations, to name a few, and a beautiful home to stay in. Lastly, add a house at the end of a pier, only accessible by a boat, following the 2014 tsunami. That's precisely what the Noble island is—that and a lot more.

We had a day to spend at Port Blair and we asked Tanaz and Shiraz Noble if we could visit the island they own and kayak around it and they were happy to take us. What followed was a drive across half of Port Blair town to an approach point where the boat awaits to take us there. Right at the approach, things change drastically; plastic waste and rubble piled up close to the approach but as you walk the last few metres close to the waiting boat, things get serene quite immediately. There are only the sounds of the mellow waves and the view of Rhizophora and their majestic aerial roots at the edge of the Noble island; they look a bit like J R Tolkien's ents with long roots as tall feet.

Once we got to the island, Tanaz and Shiraz briefed us about the safety issues related to kayaking and how to make the paddle strokes hydrodynamic and efficient. Crossing the 10-degree channel, from Barren island to Havelock, and Rangat to Havelock are just some of Tanaz's amazing kayaking feats. Off we went for a short tour of the island.

Paddling correctly took a little while. Mahesh Sankaran was on my kayak and quite often our paddles would bump since we were not synchronised, but soon it all came together. Often, we paused to hear the enthusiastic information about how to identify and understand the different mangrove species; there were two species of Rhizophora, which are often at the mangrove front since with aerial roots they can tolerate higher tide variations than other species, a species of Avicennia found closer to the shore and Sonneratia species with snorkel roots, Ceriops with interesting 'knee roots', and Bruguiera, also with short knee roots. Often, while identifying terrestrial species, we look at the bark and leaves but with mangroves the roots themselves are a great starting point. This information will certainly change the way I view and understand a mangrove forest in the future.

After an hour or more of kayaking occasionally seeing the kingfishers, the whimbrels, the teals, and mudskippers we took a look at the house on the farm. It had solar lights, rainwater harvesting, wifi, a kitchen complete with all necessities, a large 'working' room, and a bedroom, overall, a dream home!

We spent about three hours in all in the island, and on the way out got a look at the 'water house' that is only accessible through a ferry, another basic house with a fantastic view and vibe. Someday, would love to stay there and appreciate the view, the waters, the forest, the plantations, and the island more. Until then, it is nice to know that such a 'noble' island exists! 

Do take a trip to the island to see the ents and the other plants and the birds, and experience the calm of water and the conversations with the lovely people.

Island in the Sun

My last visit to the Andamans was more than three years back. Elrika and I had gone north for a while to Mayabunder and villages around such as Webi and Karmatang. But I vividly remember the first trip ever to the Andamans in late 2016. The plane flew from Bangalore for about two hours with no captivating scenery other than a quadrillion clouds, and then the pilot announced the descent, and minutes later I saw the sea, the sand, the lagoon, and then thick-as-a-brick forests. I thought we reached the main North Andaman island, but we were right above the North Sentinel island, where the Sentinalese live; one of the rare uncontacted places in the world. The community lives there on their own with no contact with the rest of the world; no roads, no distinct cultivation patches, no visible homes, no signs of clearing, and even no visible boats! The feeling I got was unexplainable; I wondered what they grow, what they eat, how their language sounds, and in general, how their lifestyle is. A closer look through google earth does show up some walking paths, few clearings, but no signs of houses and boats.

The view that one gets from the plane as one approaches the North Sentinel island.

Last evening on a conversation with Evan in Port Blair, I got to know that the Sentinalese started using metal tips on their arrows, shifting to metal from stone following a ship-wreck in the North-west part of the island. Evan said that he had heard someone mention that the ship-wreck transformed the community from the stone age to metal age! I wonder if they do light fires for cooking or clearing land; would be fascinating to look at high resolution imagery from the island.

Back in the larger North Andaman islands, the plane descended further and got closer to the main island; few houses, many clearings, and visible signs of concrete, plastic, and metal, but the forests around still seemed thick and enveloped in fluffy-cotton clouds. When the plane landed and in the next few days, I realised what being in an island implies. Things arrive here but never go back. So, all the plastic and glass waste stays in the island, so it is even more important to be conscious of the everyday miscellaneous items we use. On that note, I wonder; the whole planet is an island too, things that we use are manufactured, but there is no other place to discard than in the planet itself. Except, then there is space debris, which we are also responsible for!

The people you meet here in the Andamans are from all over the country; its a motley blend of cultures, people, cuisines, and languages. Different people arrived here at different times brought by the British, the Indian Government, the Forest Department, as well as the army and the navy. So, it is not uncommon to catch an auto run by a Tamilian, eat food at a Chinese restaurant, buy bakery items from a Keralite-run shop, snorkel with a Karen spear-fisher, and then have dinner at a Bengali restaurant, to name just a few of the options. Hindi is a binding gel for everyone, and the Hindi language has evolved as a mix of a number of other languages; a mainlander would not have a clue about some of the words (take 'Gusul' for example!), that could have been borrowed from any part of the country and blended into a local mash of language. Its all very interesting to me.

Things got even more interesting as we went north to villages around Mayabunder. The dominant community there is the Karen. The Karen were brought over during the British time since they were experts at training elephants to harvest timber from the forests. The elephants are still here too; several herds of 'retired' elephants inhabit the islands and have turned feral. Besides elephants, there are spotted deer, barking deer, domestic cats and dogs, pigs, bull frogs, that are found in large numbers in both human-inhabited and uninhabited islands.

Tomorrow, we travel north again to Mayabunder, Webi and Karmatang. Will log in more from there.

I sit here and write this post; its difficult to sit peacefully here and not write something!

How the kombucha culture diffused into my life!

The month was March 2020 and it was late into the month. The Prime Minister had announced a lockdown to arrest the spread of Coronavirus and bolstered this effort with plate-bangings in the evenings. Places were shut and groceries were a big issue here in Candolim, Goa. Beverages were out of the question. We store a few litres of Urak (Cashew alcohol, first distil) every year which we buy from a home in Revora, North Goa where they make a good brew. Last year's supply was over and this year's stock in Revora was consumed by the locals since booze shops were shut.

The local big grocery store would open three hours in the morning and it would be super packed with people in those hours. Trolleys full of toilet papers and hand sanitizers. We, on the other hand had a specific list; a list that was topped by ingredients for dog food, since our dogs have never had a vegetarian meal in their life and have never had pedigree/processed dog food! While browsing through other ways of spicing up our own locked-down life, I came across a bottle of Borecha kombucha. The last I had of kombucha was last year in Bangalore once and before that half a decade ago in Virginia, USA. Bought a few bottles of kombucha and the drink felt very refreshing and somehow, healthy. I realised based on internet search that we could give it a go at home.

Brewed some tea and added the culture and lo and behold, there it was, the first batch, on 26th March 2020!

Since then, I've tried making mango kombucha, ginger kombucha, Zizyphus kombucha (which made the bottle explode!), mint kombucha and Darjeeling tea kombucha. They were all productive and tasty experiments! My two favorites are the Darjeeling tea one and the ginger kombucha.

I've been extremely lucky though in the times of lockdown. We could still visit the beach and have a drink of kombucha and not feel like we have not been in open places. The sea and mountains help keep up the mental health! 

Couple years later now, I am still brewing and have started selling small batches to cafes around. If you've had this drink, which my friend Mathew named Monteá, after a python that took one of our chickens in Candolim (which will be another story for another day), I hope you enjoyed the taste and this story. If not, head over to Cafe Chocolatti or Beer opener beach shack in Candolim, North Goa, when you are around in Goa.

Cheers!

PS: If you really like this drink, I suggest you make it at home, its really simple, as simple as making ice tea!