Velanga Orchard - A Home Away from Home

By Karthik and Nikita

At the break of dawn Nikki and I both lazily pay attention to this constant sound of knocking. We know it's within our courtyard, either the teak wood tree or the coconut tree. While still lying in bed, we are now quite sure it's a woodpecker. Pichu, our cat too, has heard him, and is now aware of the sound and meows to express the same and remind us of his breakfast at the same time. We slowly walk out and peer into the teak tree and there he was, knocking away. We quickly try to identify him using a book and reckon he is a Black Rumped Flameback. He knows we have spotted him and takes off. His partner, the female, is around too. 

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Our day almost always ends with the sounds of creatures around us, and the break of dawn always begins with their sounds. There’s a sense of subtle relief when you are aware that the animals around you are happy and the tiniest insects too have their space.

We have four dogs and a cat, who are visited by two goats and a bunch of cows from the village everyday. It still is a process but it's beautiful to understand the routine a slow life brings with it, the animals always reminding us of the gentle idleness and the satisfaction that comes with it .

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One of the first things we started to realise as we adapted into this life was the fact that how little we really needed, which directly impacted how much we waste. The local market almost took care of all our food and immediate needs, the environment and the energy compels us to crave for what is simple and nourishing rather than cravings and wants. As we realize the change in our consuming patterns, it also gives us a sense of pride and satisfaction that these small changes have a direct impact on everything around us. It brings with it the motivation to truly change certain things, it becomes second nature.

Every morning as the ladies who work with us stroll into the farm from the village, they bring us foraged flowers. They leave some on the dining table, one on my study and some for Nikki to wear. It always brings a smile on our face when we notice them, although it happens everyday it never gets taken for granted. We have a ritual of lighting fragrance (sambrani) every morning and evening like all the homes in the villages do, to keep the energy in motion, and the air fragrant and refreshed. When your day starts with these simple daily rituals it's a constant reminder and validation for the choices we have made to gallop into the rural journey .

One of the greatest pleasures Nikki and I indulge in is to just walk the path to the stream. The dogs follow and get in the stream with us sometimes to fish, sometimes to just laze with us. Just the sound of gushing water and nobody but the six of us, is quite satisfying.

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Velanga means wood apple in Tamil. So why did we name a mango orchard in Andhra Pradesh after a fruit in Tamil? Well, this is a long fireside chat, but to keep it simple, my grandmother's favourite fruit was the wood apple and I have had quite the adventure while finding them for her, so as I entered the farm for the first time and saw this majestic wood apple tree, I just knew.

One half of our farm is surrounded by a large reserve forest with a granite hill in one corner, and being at the end of the village, we’re isolated from any sort of dwelling, which provides us with pristine privacy and the quiet that is so eluding. The nights are pure magic, with no light pollution, the night sky glitters in full glory. We light a fire, even put on a pan to cook dinner outside. There is never a dearth of stories and we make extra efforts to have fun with most of the things we do. Just when you think it could not get any better, the firefly season begins and they bring another layer of joy which fills us with gratitude. We are overjoyed that this is not a vacation, this is the life we chose.

As we get more familiar  with the lay of the land , we subconsciously imbibe a lot of the ways of the people who have called this place home for centuries. We have a vegetable patch which has three types of wild spinach that have grown from seeds sprouted in a compost pit of an elderly couple from whom we buy extra manure. These plants grow even in the shrub forests, the locals identify it and clean it a certain way to avoid the bitterness and make very healthy, tasty food out of it. We drink only fresh cow's milk, our ghee is made by a family from pure indigenous cow’s milk that they raise with healthy grazing, we grow our own rice like everybody else does and store it for our yearly use. Horse gram, and peanuts are always available to be plucked fresh especially when the rains are bountiful. We dehusk coconuts and store that meat for slow consumption, we have least to utilise vegetables while wasting very little, like the guards. The bottle guard skin is also whipped into chutneys and by adding a little fresh curd, can be made into a very nice dhal which is filled with micronutrients. So this process of mirroring native wisdom is very beneficial if one has to truly find their place in a new environment where answers don't come quickly. The gradual process is much more endearing and rewarding.

Mornings at the farm are drenched with komorebi, as the sun rises the trees and with them all their inhabitants come to life. As I stroll down the path from our home to the paddy field, the blades of grass are the brightest green and a sense of calm prevails and everything is still. The birds come out especially when bee eaters and the smaller guys with their high pitched chirping. Almost immediately a few dozen monkeys are foraging for their first meal of the day, their one constant tree is the coconut, as they are the only ones with that level of access to them, they climb up dozens of them and make a perfect hole in the coconut and enjoy the water, and throw them down  when they are playful they can empty an entire tree in a span of few mins. And then our regular day starts as our workers from the village cross the stream, and our dogs are thrilled to see them and accompany them from the stream, all the way to the house. 

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