Ambica Gulati discovers a whole new world of stalactite, stalagmite and centuries past as she goes caving in Meghalaya
Thud, thud, thud… My heart was beating so fast. I thought it would burst out of my chest. The forest was silent while the breeze was whistling through the trees though not a bird was in sight. The dry leaves rustled as I stepped on them, treading slowly to avoid loose rocks. Every few metres, there was a short climb and my heart would lurch into my mouth. I wasn’t fit for this, I told my guide, who was patiently guiding me back to the road. I was the last person left in the forest. There was no way out except the path we were on — “no short cut,” he said. And he was the only human in sight. He couldn’t jump, skip and run over the rocks and the narrow forest path because I was struggling with my breath.
I was wearing special rubber boots because we were coming back after exploring the fabulous Krem Krung Krang Muhabon (krem means cave) near the village of Lakadong. Besides the adventure, it housed evidence of all the climatic changes Earth had gone through thousands of years. But right now, my focus was on reaching the road because I needed water.
Everything was a novelty-the forest walk, the green trees, the silence, the free spirit and the beautiful sky. The special suit was now tied
around my neck. It was too hot to walk in the suit that had a strong resemblance to what the astronauts wore (or in the present context the hazmat suit) — guarding against branches, rocks and tiny particles and insects who didn’t like humans. It was not a good idea to leave without a water bottle, I said aloud. I took a few deep breaths every few metres.
It had been close to seven hours since I had drunk even a sip. I didn’t have a watch with me, but the movement of the sun showed that day would soon be engulfed by night in a couple of hours. I would soon hit the road but, for Earth, light and darkness didn’t matter. Despite the slow progress and the seemingly long route, I was elated. With every deep breath, I patted myself for ticking off caving from my wish list. After all, this trip was thanks to the first-of-its-kind Meghalayan Age 2020 festival, curated by
E-factor Entertainment under the aegis of Meghalaya Tourism.
The Underworld
Geologists’ measure geologic time scale, defined by Wikipedia as “a system of chronological dating that relates geological strata (stratigraphy) to time. It is used by geologists, paleontologist, and other Earth scientists to describe the timing and relationships of events that have occurred during Earth’s history”.
Just to give a bigger picture, we are in the geological epoch called the Holocene, which began about 11,650 years ago. This is divided into three parts-beginning with Greenlandian, going to Northgrippian and then comes the present Meghalayan Age, which can be traced to the last 4,200 years. The evidence of this time scale lies in the caves of Meghalaya. Hence, the name.
Going through the dummies guides on the web, I read that this definition was given in 2018 by the International Commission on Stratigraphy (ICS), a subcommittee of the International Union of Geographic Sciences. This geologic time scale is based on the study of chemical signatures in stalagmite in the Meghalayan caves. As per data collected by experts, a mega drought, lasting almost two decades, caused the end of global societies close to 4,200 years back.
Did I know this when I was crawling over lose rocks of Krem Krung Krang Muhabon? No! I didn’t even realise that stalagmite and stalactite were giving us a clue about the planet’s history and the events that it had seen. I just knew it was an adventure for a curious traveller. And I knew that this treasure needed to be preserved for everyone who loved Nature.
Cavers love this abode of the clouds. For obvious reasons — it is a treasure trove of caves that lie unexplored. On the website, indiancaving.org.uk, I found a wealth of information about life in the caves, the species that thrive here and the rivers that flow through it. And I kept thinking, I should have explored Krem Krung Krang Muhabon at a slower pace with a scientist. Maybe the caves will call again but till then these few hours made me feel like a child with a trophy of being part of this planet.
All through the exploration, the guide instructed us not to touch anything, as the formations would stop growing. Nature is delicate and fragile. While I had seen these formations in documentaries, seeing them in person makes for an absolutely different, almost surreal, experience. Just for the record, a stalagmite means dripping and this rock formation rises from the floor due to the accumulation of material deposited from ceiling drippings. I gazed studiously at the white crown near my foot. It had been a hero’s journey, going down through a non-existent path into the dark to see these magnificent things. I was dressed in the suit, wore rubber boots so that I wouldn’t slip and there was a small light on my helmet. Yes, cavers need to be ready for this.
It had taken me precisely five minutes to reach the bottom but for the guide it was a matter of few seconds. I groped for ways to crawl down. He later told me this was a difficult cave
for a beginner and I patted myself for my successful attempt.
The little light streaming out of the bulb on my helmet turned everything eerie. Had it not been for the big group with me, I think I would have been scared because it was dark, actually pitch dark is the more apt description. Only some rays streamed in through the wide opening but did not reach where I stood. Close to a wall, I saw a stalactite, an icicle-shaped formation hanging from the ceiling. The tip looked sharp and we had been told not to touch anything, break or carry back with us. These formations are produced by precipitation of minerals from water dripping through the cave ceiling. Nature was only to be seen, studied and enjoyed.
Expedition 2015
I was part of a big group for this caving experience and the guides were natives, well-versed with the state’s awesome past and adept at living with Nature. What looked like uncharted, unmapped, secret spaces to me, were actually explored spaces.
In February 2015, an expedition, ‘Caving in the Abode of the Clouds’, had been organised to study the ancient landscapes. This comprised 32 cavers from Austria, Poland, Romania, Netherlands, Switzerland, US, UK and members of the Meghalaya Adventurers’ Association. Accompanying them were five scientists from India, Switzerland and the UK, who conducted bio-speleological studies of the area. In 2014 also, Jaintia Hills had been explored and 2015 was a continuation of this. During this, the team found more new caves and mapped close to 15.3 km of new cave passage. While we had seen just a tiny bit of the cave with time being short and the group being large, Krem Muhabon’s exploration had revealed the cave’s length to be close to 1,248 metres.
Cavers have been exploring these in Meghalaya for almost 23 years. There are said to be over 1,580 caves in the state and 970 have been fully or partially explored. These cave systems comprise river-cave passages mixed with massive and richly-decorated relics along with magnificent clean-washed shafts. Only serious cavers can go into some as there are vertical drops and waist-deep water, besides bats.
My concept of caving changed in a matter of hours. These were not mere rocks but living beings that thrived when undisturbed. It wasn’t just another adventure activity; it was a meeting with Mother Earth. And I came back with a promise to train myself for these exhilarating territories.
Total Recall
In this abode of clouds, rocks and stones are synonymous with time. Meghalaya does mean abode of clouds in Sanskrit. From caves to monoliths, Meghayalan Age 2020 festival was an eye opener of sorts.
Meghalaya was carved out of the erstwhile state of Assam in January 1972. It is the wettest region in the country with 70 per cent forest cover. All the modern amenities are available but the smaller, quieter parts still run on cash and word of mouth. The three main regions are Khasi, Garo and Jaintia hills. We glamped it out at Jaintia Hills for this cultural extravaganza comprising dance performances, musical nights and sightseeing tours.
“The society here is matrilineal,” explained Phang who had travelled with us to the cave in Lakadong area. This young guide talked about the popular adventure sports here, giving me new goals like canyoning, not meant for the weak-hearted or weak-bodied. In Meghalaya the youngest daughter inherits everything and looks after the parents too. The children carry the mother’s surname. It truly is a futuristic society, living in perfect harmony with the mother principle of nourishment. Natives speak Khasi but English is common here. Of course, in the interiors, the Khasi dialect varies and even townies have a problem understanding that, as I discovered during a market tour with Priyanka Mawrie, another young guide.
Shillong, the capital, has many pubs and a vibrant life. “Meghalayans love rock music,” said Phang. I had been to Shillong, Mawlynnong, Dawki and the living root bridges on an earlier trip. But Jaintia Hills were a different ballgame. With Priyanka leading me, we explored the serene Tyrshi Falls and Nartiang Monoliths.
“The monoliths were a meeting ground,” she said, “and marked the rites of passage of the Jaintia kings. People would gather to have tea here. Even now a festival is held annually to celebrate the Jaintia kings and these monoliths.” Now, we could call them a graveyard of sorts. The sun sets early in the northeast and we were short on time. We just about managed to catch the fantastic view for a few seconds and hurriedly walked through the 100m complex. These monoliths are said to be the tallest in the world.
Most of the place looked like a round table with chairs all around. Later, I came to know that the tall upright stones were known as ‘mehris’ or ‘Ki Moo Shynrang,’ represent the male. The flat table stone was ‘Ki Moo Kynthai’ or the female. Folks say that people in that era were as strong and tall as giants.
Nartiang was the summer capital of the Jaintia rulers. Some experts are of the belief that the monoliths marked the establishment of the market from Raliang to Nartiang. There is a legend that explains this. On a rainy afternoon Luh Lyngshkor, a Jaintia ruler was caught in a heavy shower and sought something to save himself. He approached an old woman at Raliang, a village near Nartiang, for a bamboo to protect himself. Eyeing the well-built ruler, the woman told him to use a giant stone 0slab at the market as cover. Luh went to the market, picked the giant stone slab and reached Nartiang. And the place where he kept the giant stone slab became the market. Eyeing the big stone, I thought, it didn’t seem plausible. But then legends are not based on visual truth.
The sun had set and we realised that we couldn’t make it to the Durga Temple in the neighbourhood. But we had seen a weekly market on the way and decided to explore that. The rain had left behind slush and the market was closing. The dark skies made it difficult to see much. However, Priyanka took us inside with the help of a young girl who had come there with her parents to sell some spices and vegetables.
Lakadong area is very well known for its turmeric. And black sesame is also used a lot in Khasi cuisine, so we bought small packets of these two. We also tasted a black bean sauce which certainly is an acquired taste, locally made muffins and lots of green shoots. The vendors came from the neighbouring villages and the market offered everything from vegetables, meats, to household goods, bamboo baskets and sitting stools or muras. I would have liked to bring these back to Delhi along with the ferns plants, but I didn’t know the airport rules.
All too soon the dream where evenings and mornings were spent under a beautiful sky, with amazing people gorging on food that is low on calories was over. But there still remained the promise of more adventure sports and a fitter me to achieve that goal of canyoning the next time around.