Etched in my memory is that early morning walk in a coffee plantation
Four of us chatting, brushing past the dew-laden leaves in slow motion
Plucking pepper from the peppercorn vines, smelling the vanilla pods
Nothing could be more idyllic than this weekend, what were the odds?
Our guide, Prakash was born in these hills so no trail was new to him
nor were the birds or animals; he could sense an elephant and its whim
What are our chances of spotting one today? I had tried to think loudly
‘Coorg is a part of Elephant Corridor ma’am’, he reminded us all dryly
We were now closer to a watering hole to spot some feathered friends
Only to discover fresh circular footmarks in wet mud around the ends
‘Wild elephants often impair the electric fences to cross over for water’
‘Why did we come here then?’ I felt my trust in our young guide totter
But the bird watchers, pros and amateurs were busy with their lenses
And inner peace seemed to have arrived too, suffusing all our senses
Suddenly all hell broke loose!
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