Chhattisgarh. One of those states which didn't even exist when I studied the states of India as a kid in school. A state which in recent public memory has had "Naxal-affected" as the top association for most of urban India. Or with the recent defeat of BJP in the assembly elections. The state evokes an image of a poor underdeveloped dusty countryside or dense uninviting forests full of men with automatic guns, and barely any road access to the interior parts of the state, especially to the notorious Bastar region.

For years, my dear friend Jeet has been imploring us to visit what in his words is the "other heaven on earth" in India - Bastar. He is a local, with deep family roots in the place, and one of the bravehearts who has been telling the world, through magical pictures and breathtaking accounts over years to visit "Unexplored Bastar".

And finally this August, in the middle of an unusually heavy spell of rain in Gujarat, we decided to go. The first order of business was to figure out travel. After checking out train, air and buses as options, we decided that if we really want to make the most of a trip in the rains, a road trip is the way to go. Google maps said it was a 1350 km trip from Ahmedabad to Jagdalpur, the capital of Bastar, with the optimal route passing through Indore, Nagpur and Rajnandgaon. Meha and I had a word, converted the back of the car to a bed for the kids, packed a couple of suitcases, and on 10th August, Saturday morning, with it raining cats and dogs, started from Ahmedabad. Our kids - Vaani and Gogol are 6 and 4 respectively, and like us, had no idea of the great vacation ahead of them.

Now, Jhabua district, which borders Gujarat, is the place my grandpa's family is based out of, and so while growing up, I had passed through these roads dozens of times. 

In my mind it was a tribal area with stretches of potholes passing for roads and red dusty barren landscape on either side of the road for as far as the eye can see, also notorious for roadside robberies and assaults. Now I realised I had never been here in the rainy season.

While I knew that the roads have improved drastically from a decade back, for the first time I saw an entire stretch of hills completely covered with green. The wind was intoxicating and the clouds were 50 shades of grey. (no reference intended 😉). 

By afternoon, we reached Indore, where about 5000 of my family members had gathered for Rakhi celebrations. Next day morning we left for Nagpur. If the road so far had been green and welcoming, the one now was even better. Passing through the forest area, we crossed many rivers and little streams and stopped at a few at a leisurely pace. It was constantly surprising to me to see how fresh rains make everything look just that little extra pretty, and all the cows, goats, sheep and even horse seemed just that little extra happy! The stretch from Betul to Nagpur was one of the best maintained highways in India I have seen even in recent times, but interestingly it had no restaurants for almost 200 kms! Singing songs and playing games and generally merrily chatting about, by 4 o'clock we reached Nagpur. Now famished, we found a Domino's and everyone had their fill of hot piping pizza with extra cheese!!!

From Nagpur, we reached Rajnandgaon and stayed overnight at a surprisingly good hotel. The rooms and food and service were excellent, and all of us just crashed for the night. Now we were in Chhattisgarh, and expected the roads to start getting narrower and well - not so good overall in the last leg of the journey to Bastar and the Chitrakote waterfalls, spelt variously as Chitrakut, Chitrakoot or Chitrakote. We were in for a pleasant surprise next morning though. As we moved from Rajnandgaon towards Bastar, the forests got thicker, the landscape greener, the waterbodies more and bigger, but the road stayed wide and well-maintained. 

By lunch time, we were at Chitrakote. Now I had seen pictures and heard and read about it. But nothing could have prepared me for the majesty at display - more than a 1000 feet wide gigantic waterfalls, with hundreds of thousands of gallons of water falling every second, generating a mist which spread to the sky, and a noise that could be heard far and wide. The kids went mad, and Meha and I went madder. We were in the so-cliched-but-so-true mode feeling tiny in front of such awesome size that nature had thrown us in, and both of us were like we will never go back to urban civilisation. 

Now, Chhattisgarh tourism has this resort with wooden cottages, with every room having a terrific front-seat view of the waterfall. Since Jeet, as we kept discovering through the trip, is something like Khaitan in these parts - his name was enough for the resort managers (government employees all) to give us the cottage he had booked for us. (For those that didn't get the Khaitan reference, you catch watch this.) I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the resort was jam-packed, with literally every single room booked for the next few days. The cottage was smartly furnished and the interiors were modern but minimalistic. The food was good and homely, though the restaurant in the resort looked more like a hostel mess, but had more food options that we had anticipated. The caretaker warned us that there is no room service - so better stuff ourselves well. 

He also mentioned that if we want dinner, we need to inform them by 7 PM. I tried to check with him if there are other options to eat outside, and he just looked at me with pity in his eyes, gave me a half-smile and shrugged. 

At any rate, they have a rose garden outside the eating area. The colours were brilliant, and the water droplets made the colours look florescent. After resting for a while in the cottage - well actually we had just parked ourselves on the comfortable couches in the balcony and kept watching the waterfalls.

Around 7 PM, we tried to call the food guy, and realised there were no signals in the mobile phone. So to salvage some pride, Meha and I decided to go outside the resort to search for dinner options before go and grovel at his feet for food. 

Now the gate of this resort is directly in front of the viewing area for the waterfall, and so once we got out, we forgot all about food and found ourselves walking towards the edge of the fall. 

It was dark now, and the view of the water was just breath taking.

And it seemed that a good old largish frog shared our views. The kids were having a blast. Gogol was quiet for a while, and then inquired as to why there were no other people here, and also when are we going to have dinner! That reminded us of why we had come out there, and we trudged along the only road for another couple of hundred metres. I felt sure I had seen the signboard of some restaurant while driving, but when we reached there, it turned out to be a roadside shop with chips and Kurkure and coldrinks only. Finally we went back to the one and only resort food guy. He could have said I told you so, but he maintained his calm dignity. Sheepishly, we asked for food, not daring to ask him whether we will still get it, or complain about our failed attempt at calling him earlier. A nice walk after dinner, another hour in the balcony gazing at the waterfall, and we crashed for the night.

Next day morning we had a full view of the waterfall and the feeder river in all its glory. At the widest point, it must have more than 1200 metres wide, with a number of small rocks and islands dotting the mighty Indravati river. Standing there, it was mind boggling to imagine this huge muddy mass of water coming all the way from Kalahandi in Orissa, running down the Vindhya ranges for almost 400 kms and reaching this point in its journey to fall onto rocks nearly 100 feet below, creating a 24X7 mist through which the same rocks can just not be seen ever during this season. And to think that just last year, water in this same majestic waterfall had dwindled to less than a metre wide!!! 

I saw what seemed like a watch tower very close to the other end of the falls, and made a mental note to check how one gets there. About 100-120 tourists had come to the falls, and 20-25 photographers had appeared overnight as well. After getting a few photographs clicked and printed (Well - Meha loves it 😀), we started for Jagdalpur, the capital city of Bastar and the home town of Jeet, less than an hour from Chitrakoot. Driving on the roads of Jagdalpur, it looked like a town in hurry to become a city. 

In no time, we were at the office of Unexplored Bastar, housed in the TRIFED building. The office of Unexplored Bastar was interestingly laid out - with 2 largish rooms of 35X20 feet each, half the wall area converted to showcases with handicrafts dominating the visuals. There were books too, figures of bell metal and other local handmade wonders. 3-4 local artisans were in the other room with 1-2 of their kids, working their magic, while Jeet's core team of youngsters busily processing online orders and generating invoices. I felt a sense of pride at what he had set up here, and childishly boasted to Meha that after all at one point, he was our Chief Operations Officer. 

Jeet himself came after a while from a meeting he had to suddenly go to - and took us for an unbelievably tasty (and heavy) lunch. Post lunch, we started for an artisan village, where our guide had arranged for us to observe the entire process of the making of bell-metal / copper figurines. A pleasant drive of 30 minutes later our guide suddenly stopped in front of a house. The entire family greeted us, and the lady of the house - also the Chief Artistic Officer - took us through the steps involved in making the figurines. She even moulded and crafted a small tortoise for demo. It was fascinating to see her passion and fervour - she really liked doing this. 

For obvious reasons, I wont go into details of what she explained, but it is indeed a very highly skilled, painstaking and tough process. Vaani was trying to understand the process while Gogol couldn't care less as she found a number of goats and a cat as playmates.

I was interested to understand the economics of the business, and was very glad to hear them say that now with Jeet's company, they get anywhere between 1500-2000 Rs. for a day's work, which otherwise was as low as 300-400 Rs. a day. And there is enough sales through the year, which was earlier restricted to the tourist season. This, Jeet had mentioned to me, was because now they are selling online and through other channels, thus reducing the dependency on walk-in tourists.


Back in Jagdalpur, Jeet had another great surprise for us. Just after sunset, we started again towards Chitrakoot. Jeet guided us to a road which led to the other side of the huge falls, and opened up right at the edge of the falls. It was the watch tower I had seen in the morning, and I was beside myself! Little did I know that we were going to camp right on the watch tower for the night. If in daylight, the falls looked majestic, the darkness all around made them captivating and mysterious. My modest phone camera and even more modest photography skills don't do any justice whatsoever to the sight in front of us. And the fact that there were only two sounds - the loud sound of gazillions of gallons of water falling, and the steady backdrop of the flowing river added superbly to the mystical ambience. It was one of those moments when you are very very hesitant to make a sound, so as not to disturb or spoil the harmony of sounds that were there.


Unexplored Bastar had leased the place for 3 years, and campsites like this are run completely by the self-help group from the village adjoining the falls. The young local boys and girls were somewhat shy, but very very hospitable. The kids were having a blast in the little tent that had been erected exclusively for them. And the food they cooked for us was great. Jeet explained that originally the local food doesn't have spices, but now for tourists they have learned to customise it a bit to retain the local flavour, but make it a bit more mainlandish. There was bamboo shoot curry and mixed vegetables and dal and rice and puris, and even papads. Sitting there and eating these, with the infamous local mahuva (for the uninitiated, its the local booze made out of a tree's sap - it is a little pungent with a sweet aftertaste), while watching the waterfall was like one of those moments when time stops, and you wish it never restarts.

After a blissful sleep with lovely cool breeze and the sound of the water, the next morning we were woken up literally by a cock crowing below the watch tower at the crack of sunrise. And the falls looked magnificent in the early morning light. I went for a walk, and had one of the most refreshing peaceful walks in recent times.

A quick simple breakfast of poha and bhajiyas awaited us, and then we set off from the falls, promising ourselves and each other that we will certainly come back.

From here, we went to see some old temples of the area. The entire terrain is a forest area, known as the Dandakaranaya in Hindu mythology - aka the forest where Ram, Lakshman and Sita roamed about for 14 years during their exile. It was considered an Asura stronghold, and the local beliefs around the history were fascinating to us. The temples have a distinct architecture, with the carvings very similar to the ones in Jagannath Puri and the Eastern coast of India, with local even claiming that the chief architect of Jagannath Puri and these temples in Bastar was the same person. The temple in the picture to the right is an ASI site, and though restored significantly in the last few years, it was deserted and had, like all the other temples we subsequently visited, dysfunctional CCTV cameras. We were given to understand that in these parts, the Hindu gods popular in the Hindi heartland like Rama and Krishna were not very relevant. Shiva was the main deity, and therefore by extension Ganesh. 

And of course the most important local deity is Maa Danteshwari, co-named with the infamous Dantewada block, considered the Kuldevi of Bastar, where we would be headed later in the day. Jeet then took us to a nearby village to show us the local religious practices and rituals. The "dev", as with many tribes, are a designated species of trees. Every tribe has its own species. And next to the 4-5 feet truncated symbolic devas, there was a full 30 feet long trunk of the same species. This kind of a spot and arrangement, Jeet explained to us, exists in every village in the area, and is the starting point of a fascinating annual ritual. Every year at Dusshera (by the way in this area they dont burn Ravan's effigies), there is a ceremony in which all the village members gather.

It is believed that every year the "Dev" possesses one of the residents on this day. The possessed is then treated by all as the Dev while it lasts. But how would one confirm as to who is actually possessed? They have a very simple way to determine the "possessedness" of the person who claims to be possessed - a horrifying but strongly believed way. If you see the picture to the left here, you will see a swing, with 3 inch iron nails on the seat, which are very sharp (Meha tried to touch and cut her finger). The test is that the possessed individual sits on this swing bare butted, and swings on it. If you are truly possessed, the nails cannot hurt you, and that shows everyone else that you indeed are carrying the power of the Dev. This happens every year at every village in the entire region. And once you pass this test, you are then authorised, for the day, to pass judgements on land disputes, cure the sick as well as solve any other problems. Interestingly, the local law accepts the judgement of the Dev on the land disputes, and land borders between adjacent farms are those that the Dev has designated. After the ceremony, the Devs from all the villages rush on foot to the Maa Danteshwari temple at Dantewada, where about 2000 of them gather from all parts of Bastar for the climax of the ceremony along with thousands of locals.

Off we went now to another beautiful spot - the Mendri Ghumar falls. Overlooking a valley with 7 hills all appearing a different shade of green, these 70 metre falls were a sight to behold. I got greedy and tried to capture the entire valley in a panaromic picture! Jeet told us that there is a trekking trail that connects the bottom of this valley to the Chitrakoot falls. Next time, we promised ourselves.

And then came the journey to Dantewada, passing through ghats and hills where we counted seeing just 16 individuals (including those in vehicles we crossed) on a route of about 40 kms.

On the road through the forest, we came upon a very interesting object, seen in the picture to the right. Its a memorial for a local tribal who was a prominent member of the society. The memorial has drawings of not just his deeds and actions in life, but also his dreams and aspirations. I found it particularly fascinating that here in these parts they remember people's dreams as much as what they did. The memorial had pictures of his wives, his hunts, an airplane, ceremonies he had been a part of, and of many many animals that he had hunted and eaten !!!

As we came to the edge of Dantewada and passed the BSF check post, we came to the bridge over Indravati where it acts as the natural border to Abujhmad, the area where Indian administration ends - of which we don't even have a survey map! If you look carefully at the image to the left, you will see a small board saying "Seema prarambh", which is literally the point till which Indian citizens are allowed to go. This dense forest area of about 4000 sq kms has negligible presence of Indian administration, and in most of the villages absolutely none. We were given to understand that this is the last standing bastion of the Naxals, a large number of whom have come here from the forests of Andhra Pradesh after the downfall of the notorious Veerappan. As we went back to the Dantewada town and had a really good meal at a cafe run now by ex-Naxals who have surrendered over the last few years, we marvelled at how normal everything was. It was like any other small town, with almost no military presence on the streets that we could see, streets and shops buzzing with activity, and people going about their lives normally. Talking to a few locals, I could sense an undertone of disillusionment with the Naxals and admiration for the development work that has happened in recent times.

Further on, we were taken to visit the famous Battees(32) and Chausath(64) temples by Jeet. It was nice to find out that these temples, excavated over the last decade, were now being maintained by local self-help groups, who collected a token entry fee, and supplemented us with a local guide. By now we had come to expect everyone to know Jeet, and everyone in the village site seemed to do so!

The temples themselves had a very interesting feature, the 3-layered rotating Shiv-lingas. If you see the picture to the left, they are 3 very heavy stones designed as levers to rotate independently, and even Vaani was able to move them. There was an adjoining sanctum which had a very similar 3-layered Shiv-linga. We were told that it is believed that this temple is a part of a network of temples connected by underground tunnels which would open if the Lingas were rotated to a unique combination just like a combination lock!

And then we went to the site of what we are told is the largest single rock sandstone statue of Ganesh in India, standing more than 8 feet tall. And the smaller statue to the left of the main statue has a very cute story to it. The story goes that Banasur, who ruled this parts, had the bigger Ganesh statue made for his daughter. But the daughter of his minister, who was a dear friend of Banasur's daughter, also wanted a statue like her friend, and so Banasur got an additional small statue made for her! I heard the story and turned towards Gogol, half-expecting her to place a demand for a statue as well! 😂

We also visited the Mama-Bhanja temple, with a gory tale of a passionate nephew having beheaded his back-stabbing mama(uncle) over claiming credit for the temple in front of the king! I thought this is not very different from the present day temple-building rhetoric so many people in this country obsess over. 😅
This was followed by another temple locally known as the Khajuraho of Bastar for its sculpture and busts, more than 70% of which were allegedly stolen and sold off illegally by the local district collector in 1970s!

Finally we headed to the famous temple of Maa Danteshwari, where a 35 foot statue of Hanuman welcomed us. It was heartening to note that the parking was being managed by a group of young girls who were a part of the local self-help group, but were quite well-spoken and not so shy as some of their peers.
The temple itself was somewhat of an anticlimax for me. After everything I had been hearing about it for the last few days, I had imagined something grand and big - it was a rather small tunnel-like structure, with the quirky rule that one can't enter the sanctum area wearing full pants! So Meha, who was wearing a capri, was allowed, while I wasn't. I was amused that what could have caused such a practice with people not allowed in the temple with more clothes rather than less! Jeet told us that this temple had been built at a specific location at the confluence of 3 rivers, and was one of the 52 Shakti Peethas, shrines of Shakti (the divine feminine) spread across India.
We moved then to Jagdalpur, where we spent the night at Jeet's place. His mom and dad had the peace and calm in their disposition that comes from a lifetime spent not in cities. Their cheerfulness was both - infectious as well as independent - it didnt seem like it would get affected by anything. And their warmth was genuine. Within a short span of 10-12 hours, both kids formed strong bonds with them, had their share of exchange of stories and songs and what not!

And now finally as we left from Bastar for the journey back, we knew that we were coming back again and again - for treks and for caves, for water and for forests, for wildlife and for temples, for the people and for the roads. So many more places that we couldn't cover in these 4 days, that we will have to come back.

We are in love with Bastar, and I guarantee that anyone who goes there once will be. I have travelled to all states of India, albeit not to many touristy places, but this place captivated me like few others. I will be back, and this time for a longer duration.

And as if all these mind boggling sights weren't enough, on the return journey, somewhere between Nagpur and Indore, we were treated to a full rainbow, which to me symbolises the entire trip. 😀