Dosdewa, Karimganj, Assam, India

2023 was the year I decided to retire. It was a decision that was made voluntarily and with a one point agenda: To do all the thing that I dreamt of doing at a stage of my life when I was still in reasonably good health to do them.

For my first year, I don’t think I did too badly…

Birding in Srinagar, Kashmir in February, angling for the golden masheer at the confluence of the Kali and the Saryu rivers in Uttrakhand in March, trekking for the rare forest owlet in Tansa, Maharastra in June, A family wedding in Toronto followed by a fabulous fortnight in Spain in October. Not to mention a whole bunch of trips to Goa in between.

If that was not enough, I jumped at the chance to join a few birders for a 10-day trip to Assam and Mizoram in November 2023.

We arrived at Silchar Airport, Assam via Calcutta at 1pm on the 18th of November 2023. From there it was a 5 hour drive to Dosdewa, a remote village in the Karimganj District of Assam. In this part of the world it gets pitch dark by around 5.30pm. Heavy rains during the previous week had rendered the final stretch of road unmotorable and we were forced to unload our stuff and trek the last kilometre or so in darkness.

Bamboo bridge at the foot of the hill

The image above was taken at a bamboo bridge at the foot of a hill. From here a rough, moderately steep path led to our 4-bedroom cottage at the summit. The cottage was constructed entirely of wood and plastered with mud and each room had the welcome luxury of an attached washroom. Although rustic I must admit, it was quite comfortable. The electricity did tend to fluctuate and mobile phone connectivity ranged from sketchy at best to mostly non-existent.

Our hilltop cottage made of wood and mud

We were to stay here for 5 days before moving on the Mizoram on the 23rd. Little did I know that the age-old saying ‘Man proposes God disposes’ was going to kick in pretty literally 2 days into the trip!

Dosdewa is located at the foothills of Khasi Hills in Karimganj District of Assam. This is a spectacular evergreen forest that is extremely biodiverse and is home to a huge number of species of birds, butterflies and other creatures. The Khasi tribals are the indigenous population that communicate in the Khasi dialect.

Although they are reasonably fluent in Hindi and English it was heartening to note that among themselves the spoke almost exclusively in their native dialect.

Van Hasselt’s Sunbird

Many of the species found here, like the Van Hasselt’s Sunbird above, are rare and difficult to find elsewhere else.

crimson backed flowerpecker

Birding here has a set pattern. Each morning we trekked along one of the several forest trails with particular targeted species in mind.

little spiderhunter

black-crested bulbul

gold-crested myna

We spent a couple of sessions at a fruiting tree at one of the homesteads that was attracting large flocks of hill myna. A few gold-crested myna were occasionally spotted in these groups.

hill myna

Apart from birds I enjoy recording butterflies especially in the North East region. Below is a small selection of the many butterfly images I got on this trip.

colour sergeant

red-based jezabel

fluffy tit

red-spot jezabel

magpie crow

one of the several sandy streams that crisscrossed the forest

The USP of this particular trip were the sessions at the bird hides.

The dense forest is crisscrossed by sandy streams that are fairly shallow, at most a foot in depth that in turn, are fed by a number of tiny trickling rivulets barely a few inches deep. The latter are ideal for forest birds to take their late evening bath before retiring to roost.

Local birders have painstakingly explored these areas and set up hides in the most promising locations. It is worth noting that these hides are placed in natural settings. There are no artificial birdbaths or bird feeders.

Wading through the sand-bottomed streams was a convenient way to reach the hides through the thick, largely impenetrable jungle.

The hides were crudely constructed. A framework of wood covered with dried palm leaves they were designed to accommodate 3-5 birders. Tiny windows barely enough to fit a large lens were cut out of the side overlooking the water.

It took some doing to get the camera and tripod set up just right and then it was a question of waiting for the birds to show up. For the first 10-15 minutes there was nothing. Then, peering through the limited space between the lens and the edge of the ‘window’, there was a bit of movement.

grey-headed canary-flycatcher

A grey-headed canary-flycatcher alights on one of the twigs above the water. The show had begun!

pale blue flycatcher

Moments later a gorgeous blue bird arrives. I barely hear our guide whisper… ‘pale blue flycatcher’. Wow, a lifer for me. And the silence of the jungle is ruffled by the clicking of several cameras.

grey-headed babbler

The birds came in fast and furiously. Unfortunately, the light was disappearing just as quickly. I began each session around 3pm in the afternoon at an ISO of 6400. (The first grey-headed canary-flycatcher image had the following exposure setting: f/4, 1/160, ISO6400)

Another excited whisper… “cacher bulbul and black-headed bulbul”. Two lifers in one frame! I was on a roll! (f4, 1/100, ISO 8000)

cacher bulbul (right) and black-headed bulbul (left)

A lesser shortwing has our cameras buzzing all over again. I can recall an earlier trip to Nagaland where this bird led us a merry dance with hardly a decent image to show at the end of it. Here it was barely 20 metres away giving us wonderful sightings. (Can’t say the same though of the exif data, f/4, 1/100, ISO 10000!)

lesser shortwing

And if you thought that was bad, take a look at the exif data of snowy-browed flycatcher image below! (f4, 1/160, ISO 12800)

snowy-browed flycatcher

The images below of a pair of pin-striped tit babblers and a puff-throated babbler were shot at a staggering ISO16000!

pin-striped tit babbler

puff-throated babbler

It was fairly late when the Asian stubtail decided to put in an appearance.

This was a bird that birders travel many a mile to see. Often returning unsuccessfully. A fact that was reflected in our guide’s highly excited whispered reaction… “Oh my God! Asian stubtail in the bushes!!”. The EXIF data of the shot below: f4, I/320, ISO 32000!!

Asian stubtail

Which brings us to the eternal dilemma of every wildlife photographer: where does one draw the line when hiking up the ISO? This is my take on the subject…

There are various factors that go into making an image. Composition, highlights, contrast, shadows, white balance, colour saturation and focus. All but one of these can, to a certain extent, be corrected in post processing. Especially when shooting in RAW.

The sole exception is focus. If an image is out of focus, its rightful place straight out of the camera is the ‘trash bin’.

rufous-bellied niltava (female)

Ideally one would love each image to be tack sharp with no noise. Every wildlife photographer worth his or her salt knows that is a pipe dream and, when in the field, sub-optimal light is more the rule than the exception.

To select a shutter speed that will freeze a hyperactive bird more often than not, one has no option but to hike up the ISO. The question is: by how much? Using a good tripod plays a significant role. The camera too makes a huge difference. With my old cropped frame EOS 7D, any image with an ISO over 1600 produced unrecognisable garbage. This improved dramatically with the EOS 7DMk2. Later my full frame, Canon flagship camera at the time, EOS IDX Mk2 could easily give me very usable images around ISO 6400 and beyond. The EOS R5 full frame mirrorless body I am now using blows the previous cameras out of the water! The results above speak for themselves.

The bottom line for me: I want a shot that is in focus.

To achieve that goal I am prepared if necessary to insanely jack up the ISO and worry about how successfully I can correct the inevitable escalation of noise later. I am fully aware that in doing this I stand to lose varying amounts of feather detail. On the plus side it will be reasonably sharp and can at the very least be used to ID the species. (The image of the Asian stubtail is a good example.)

The wheel that adjusts the ISO on the R5 is located conveniently close to the back focus button. I try to take short bursts at different ISO settings so that I can pick and choose the best one when post processing.

Enough of tech talk and back to the trip report…

It was when returning from the hide session in the evening of the second day that fate decided to take a hand and throw a spanner in the works of my immediate future.

This was the furthest hide and fairly deep in the forest. Wading through the water of the sand-bottomed stream was child’s play. To get to this particular hide we had to get out of the water and traverse a short stretch of forest before entering another stream. It was while returning on this stretch that I slipped and fell.

It all happened in a split second and from the sharp cracking sound from my left ankle I knew that I had fractured it. I tried to stabilise the ankle with a borrowed scarf and attempted to walk with support. A few steps later I knew this was impossible.

By now it was pitch dark. The other birders in the group had returned to camp with one of the guides who was to go on into the village and get help.

As I lay flat on the forest floor, my typically ‘civilised city mind’ prepared to negotiate with the rescue party on what would be a fair price to take me back to camp. I recall Rejoice, our birding guide, requesting me to try and sit up to avoid being attacked by leeches. To which I remember telling him that that would be the least of my problems!

My prowess at sketching, I am aware, leaves much to be desired but I’m sure you get the idea…!

30 minutes later around 12-15 young men from the village arrived with a large wicker basket, nylon ropes and a stout bamboo. They placed me in the basket, supported my head and legs with a couple of lungis (cotton sarongs worn by Indian men) and secured the basket and lungis to the bamboo. Two of them took the front and rear of the bamboo while a couple of them supported the basket on either side. They trotted at a fairly brisk though the dark jungle, stopping only occasionally to take turns at switching places.

I’ve no idea how long it took to get back. All I can remember is desperately trying to keep my fractured leg from bouncing up and down as we moved along. I was vaguely aware of the constant stream of chatter in their Khasi dialect. I did catch the English word “elephant” repeated fairly often and it was always followed up by several goodhearted chuckles. Hmmmm…?!

On reaching camp there was a car waiting to take me to the nearest hospital. It was only when I was in the car and on my way that I realised that there was absolutely no talk of money or any sort of reimbursement for bringing me home. Over the course of the next fortnight I made several attempts to transfer funds to those who helped me. After all these guys saved my life. God knows, if it wasn’t for them I’d still be lying deep in the jungle.

That’s when I learnt the people of the region live by a strict code of conduct that many of us ‘civilised’ folk will find extremely strange and hard to comprehend. If anyone is in need of assistance they are honour bound to help. No questions asked. Without any expectations of renumeration or reward. Eventually I did transfer a sum of money but it was me that actually forced it on them and the sum they eventually agreed upon was far, far less than what I had in mind.

The Makunda Christian Leprosy and General Hospital was about 12 km from camp. Situated in Bazaricherra, a remote area in Karimganj Assam, I was pleasantly surprised almost to the point of being shocked, when we drove in the gates. I was expecting a rudimentary, makeshift primary health centre. What I saw before me was a fully functional, 250-bedded, professionally run hospital whose primary aim was to service the healthcare requirements of poor and needy.

The entire experience from the moment I was gently lowered into a wheelchair and taken first to the registration and from there to the X-ray department and finally to the orthopaedic minor OT where I was given a plaster slab and crutches was smooth and efficient. Apart from being impressively professional the entire staff were heart-warmingly caring and pleasant.

It was around 9pm that I was ready to leave the hospital. The plan was to drive back to camp, sleep the night there and early next morning drive to Silchar Airport to catch the afternoon flight back to Mumbai.

On the way back from the hospital Rejoice filled me in the incredible story of The Mukunda Hospital. Way back in 1950 America Missionaries bought 1000 acres of land in this remote area and set up a hospital. In 1980, as part of the Indian Government policy, the missionaries had to leave and for 10 years the hospital lay defunct for want of Medical Staff.

In 1992 a young surgeon and his anaesthetist wife, Dr. Vijay Anand Ismavel and Dr. Ann, then in their 20s decided to take up the challenge to run the place. Even today poverty and illiteracy is rampant in the region and one can only imagine the hardships they faced three decades ago. I’m told that the hospital is what it is today thanks to the selfless dedication and leadership of Dr. Vijay Anand and his wife Dr. Ann.

At 5am next morning I said my goodbyes to the rest of my birding friends. The moment I decided to fly back they all offered to cut short their trip and accompany me back home. An offer that I put my foot down and flatly refused! Aseem Kotiala in particular was an absolute rock and his assistance from the moment I fell right up to the time I headed back to the airport hospital was – in the words of a popular credit card advert – priceless.

I had decided that I would inform Vanessa, my wife, only once I was on my way to the airport.

A couple of week earlier we were at Goa Airport waiting for our flight to Mumbai and observed a number of passengers with disabilities getting priority treatment. I recall telling Vanessa that I would never get into a wheelchair no matter how old I was.

Two weeks later that statement was about to backfire and bite me in the ass. Vanessa could not resist a smile as she saw me coming out of the airport… in a wheelchair!

Back in Mumbai I checked into the Holy Family Hospital for surgery. I must say Vanessa and I were treated like royalty! It’s been a year since I retired from the hospital and the changes were incredible. I was given a suite on the 5th floor. A few years ago this wing was the Covid Ward by the end of the pandemic it was in an extremely shabby state. And that, let me assure you, is putting it mildly!

I could not believe the transition! It was sparkling like a new pin. And then some!

I actually requested Vanessa to take a look around as she has a far more discerning eye that I do and even she was impressed by what she saw… including the washroom which is the first place she inspects whenever we stay away from home.

From soft spoken and extremely helpful PRO, Abhishek, to the dietician, Geeta who took pains to provide us with amazing variety of meals – (three types of fish curry, fish fingers in Tatar sauce, delicious appams with Kerala stew, Gajjar halwa, a delicious chicken curry… to name a few of the dishes) – my fractured leg surgery notwithstanding, it was a very warm and pleasant experience. I even joked with Vanessa that I didn’t mind staying here for another month!

Of course it does help if your operating surgeon and anaesthetist have been your friends for over three decades. Having said that, I am extremely grateful to Dr. Dominic D’Silva and Dr. Sailesh Mulgaonkar for the VIP treatment I got. Sailesh’s post-operative popliteal block that kept me absolutely pain free for well over a day and a half was nothing short of brilliant and it is testimony to their excellence that, upto now, almost 3 weeks after surgery, I have not had any need to take even a single painkiller.

Ahhh… I’ve just scrolled upwards and noticed that its been a while since the image of the rufous-bellied niltava. Without images, the monotonous blocks of text do look a bit bleak. Which, given the situation, should be perfectly understandable.

Far from being negative and depressing, funnily enough, the memories of recent events, on the contrary, are pleasant and warm.

And for that I am eternally grateful to Rejoice Gassah and the Khasis of Dosdewa, Karimganj, the staff of Mukunda Leprosy and General Hospital, Aseem Kotiala and my birding ‘family’, the doctors and staff of Holy Family Hospital and, last but definitely not the least, my dear wife Vanessa.

God bless them all!

Here’s wishing everyone a very festive season and a great 2024!