The leeches were hungry and so was I. They were probably by my feet, itching to squiggle into my shoes. But after a day of trekking through thick shola forest, sliding down a slippery hill after a rain, and trudging through endless trails lined by thorny brush in Upper Palani Hills, I was too tired to care. My eyes were on the slow-moving queue of hungry trekkers ahead of me. We waited with plates in hand to be served chapattis and chicken curry by Paneer, the resident helper. When my turn arrived, he placed three chapattis and a scoop of curry with chunky pieces of meat on my plate.
I hurried to find a good place to stand — you don’t eat sitting in a forest after dark, especially if the only light in the area is from a flickering bulb by the kitchen. The dim light fell on the reddish curry — I couldn’t see much of it, but it was steaming hot. As I tore off the first chapatti, it began to drizzle.
Strapping trees that loomed over us hissed as mountain winds thundered through their leaves. We only had a few minutes to down our dinner before the skies opened up. Huddled under a tree with a canopy too thick to let rain through, I dunked the chapatti into the curry. But the time I had the second, I was drenched. The sound and smell of rain, the sweet fragrance of wet woods, the alarmed call of a lone night creature…the elements of the forest that night, made the simple dish an experience. The curry was quite ordinary — spicy, with tender pieces of chicken. But, it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had.
