Dabka: One of the best place to visit near Vadodara in monsoon! ☁

At 4:30 on a Sunday morning, I was up and ready to move the oars in the silent river of Mahisagar along with bunch of my friends. My phone was charged, the gallery was backed up and emptied, the bag was packed and I was excited. I imagined myself swooshing through the river in a narrow kayak while inhaling the pure sounds and cold wind of nature. But well, nature had other plans.
It had poured heavily last night and the morning was cloudy too. And hence, much to my disappointment the plan was dropped. But since all of us had our bags and heads ready for a trip we decided to give a lesser-known place a chance.
This lesser-known place went by the name of 'Dabka', a village near the bank of Mahisagar. It is around 25kms from Vadodara, enroute Padra. The most beautiful thing about monsoon travels is the scenic view that it presents before us. The road to Dabka was one such pleasurable ride. The left side of the road was covered with short and tall trees, with rain drops on their leaves, swaying in breeze, adding coolness to the surrounding where as the right side had a river canal which drove with us till the very beginning of the village.
As one of my friend was already acquainted with the place, she took us to an elevated place, popularly know as "Bangla" in the village, where we parked the wheels and set our legs in motion. One look at the entrance and I was completely mesmerized by it's beauty. The vast land was at quite a height, like a little hilltop, covered with lush green (and wet) grass, with few sturdy trees, here and there and to the left lied the Mahisagar, flowing quietly in the bottom, welcoming boats and fishermen to it's abode. In the center lied the 'Bangla', which looked like a cottage and was in an extremely worn out condition. According to sources it was almost 150-200 years old, tracing it back to the times of kings and queens. The architecture and construction of the cottage consisted of connected rooms, single windows, wooden pillars and ceiling, an outside porch circling the cottage and an aluminum roof. It was a bewitching site. But it invited annoyance when the walls of such beautiful cottage was filled with scribbles and carvings from lovers and friends. And since it isn't a 'declared heritage', no one can stop anyone from ruining a preserved architecture.
We stood at the end of the hill top overseeing the river, inhaling the beauty of nature. Just like I had imagined doing, but instead of being in the middle of the river I was near it. I excused myself for a few moment to really gulp down the sweet nectar of mother nature. 'How can something be so beautiful!' I thought to myself. I closed my eyes to listen to the natural music. I heard the silent river, it was playing tunes, I heard the trees swinging, they were singing, I heard the breeze moving, it was dancing and I heard my heart beating, it was happy. The rains by this time had yet again begun to drizzle, soft drops landing on the river, the leaves, the grasses and my skin. I conveyed my grace to mother nature for such a scenic beauty. I couldn't bring myself to move out of the place. I wish I could stay longer and listen to the birds chirping, the boat sailing and the rains falling.
I bid adieu to the beautiful cottage, to the river, to the grasses and trees, to a breathtaking landscape. I whisper to them a promise of revisit as I leave for my life in the city.