Romancing Ross in the Andamans

    Blame it on this languorous weather that Delhi is slowly drifting into. Or the lull in my comfort zone that is making me romance Ross Island in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands all over again.

A view of Ross Island as the ferry neared

     An island is an island. Period. Stretches of blue and green shades all around with a beach or stoney shores thrown in....or so I thought.  I was definitely not prepared for what Ross Island had in store. A ten minute boat ride from Port Blair (wherein I was fighting my own battle of motion sickness) landed us at Ross.We were told Ross was least affected by the Tsunami due to its orientation. Thank God for it! Or else much of its beauty would have been lost.


 As we walked into the island, it was like Time had taken over the relics of human settlements.
A British Administrative head-quarter  during the Raj days, Ross had everything in it. From the barracks for the soldiers, a bakery, church, market place, officers' quarters, Mess, Press, Chief Commisioner's House and even a de-salination plant!A major earthquake in the 1941 destroyed much of it's structures.  But they all stood there mutely and stoically as Nature slowly took over, engulfing them in her fierce embrace over the years.




De-salination Plant

Remains of a Church

A structure taken over by a tree as the sea watched

"A Terrible Beauty Is Born" - YB Yeats

     I remembered vaguely, a poem we had done in school " Ozymandias" by PB Shelley. Ah! The futility of man's egotism and also the cravings of permanence...Let me refresh the poem to go with the snaps:
  

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Huge Trees

   As we walked around, Ross offered us peace and tranquility with huge trees, glimpses of the sea through the thick foliage and herds of deer. We had to be careful with our packed lunch as we seemed to have contenders. The deer were making a go for it the moment we sat down to eat. They had to be shooed away like the cows and dogs. Lunch was such a hurried affair, I still don't remember what was in it.

Local Inhabitants

    We lazed around till it was time to leave Ross behind and carry our memories back. Revealing only a hint of the life it had witnessed, what stories did it guard? Stories that would be lost forever... As the boat left its shore, I wondered what drama Ross unfolds after everyone has left for the day? Do the Officers and the ladies have midnight picnics? Does the chimney of the bakery smoke with fresh bakings? Is the market place buzzing with the natives and soldiers oblivious to the gizmo driven world?....








Note:

Nearest Airport- Port Blair
Ferries- Water Sports Complex
Time required- Half a Day
Accomodations- At Port Blair to suit every pocket
Best time- November to March

Refreshed the Poems courtsey:

http://www.online-literature.com/frost/779/

   

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