Experience monsoon magic at this hidden gem near Bhopal

Day 1: Ensconced deep in the jungles, the Tawa Retreat that faces the river wears a serene attire. It was already noon and a steamboat was waiting for tourists. The 24 km ride crisscrosses through mini-islands dressed in a canopy of lush greens, exhaling the aroma of a foreign destination. After one km, we passed through a ‘Sangam’(confluence) of the Tawa and Denwa rivers. Our guide showed us the ‘tapu’ where the tourists are brought to see the sunset. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

The boat was parked at Paraspani and we took a small nature walk—the muddy road took us to the forest rest house where we were greeted by Mona and Sona—two deer who had been rescued by the guards a few years ago. Besides the usual wildlife, this forest is home to the rusty-spotted cat the smallest of the wild cat species that can fit on your palm. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Post lunch we went to a 200-year-old Gori Ka Badshah fort that had an embedded ‘Bawari’ (step well). Soon, the sun started to set and fatigue started creeping in.  But, the sight of a fishing net enlivened me and there I was with the hook and the net. After 15 minutes of futile dabbling, I decided to retire for the day. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Day 2: The 50 km drive from Tawa to Madhai through dense forests brimming with greenery was an ethereal experience. The Bison Resort, my base camp at Madhai, faced the Denwa River and looked ravishing with its beautifully manicured garden. The two-km zig-zag walk to the pearl farm— full of water-choked tall grass—had some anxious moments but we reached our destination safely. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Our next stopover was Chedna, a village being promoted under the umbrella of rural tourism. Five houses of this village are being developed as stay homes for distilling out a rural feel — bullock cart ride, milking a cow, farming, and grinding a ‘chakki’. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Day 3: My next stop was Pachmarhi—but before that, I rode to an adjoining village Savarvani to explore some more homestays. We then stopped at Satdhara - a pristine place with water gushing through black rocks. The environment echoed with the sound of the waves. The ride to Pachmarhi was garnished with the various symphonies of nature - the sight of the forest punctuated with cascading waterfalls was enthralling. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Before darkness seeped in, I rushed to the Mahadev temple. Entrenched deep inside a cave with a pool flowing through, this temple is believed to be the place where Lord Vishnu killed the demon Bhasmasura taking the form of Mohini, a celestial beauty. According to the temple priests, a dip in the pool has curative properties. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

On my way back I touched the Rajendragiri Park—named after the first President of India who was a frequent visitor to Pachmarhi. A banyan tree planted by him on June 5, 1953, stands tall in the middle of the park. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Day 4: It was Saturday, the last day of my trip and it was pouring incessantly. But when I saw some tourists dancing in the rain, I bought a gomchi (raincoat in the local language) – and joined the bandwagon. Covered in the gomchi, I went to the Pandu caves – five caves from which Pachmarhi is said to have derived its name. It is said that the Pandavas spent a part of their exile in these caves, dating back to the Gupta period. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Once the rains became milder, I decided to take a walk through the main city. By then, I had visited most of the tourist points—some like Beefall and Dhoopgarh were closed because of the ongoing Mela. The Mela was buzzing with effervescence---it was a riot of colours. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

In the evening I went to Haat Bazar, sat on a charpoy, and drowned myself in the Bundelkhandi songs being rendered by some folk artists. The rains had come back with even more vigour.  But, the sonorous music had a calming effect. Before leaving, I tried my hands on pottery, although the end product lacked finesse. (Image: Rajesh Sen)

Day 5:  It was bright and sunny. I took some selfies, ate my breakfast, and drove through the Pachmarhi Mela—one last time. The crowd had become bulkier, the songs were even more thunderous. The ride back through the greens and the forest had a nostalgic smell.  My phone started buzzing, social media started bombarding me with pictures and posts---- and I was already missing my four days of internal retreat.