It was a slightly foggy late afternoon when we started sailing in a packed motorized boat from Balugaon. The sea wind was slowly growing gusty and we were a little apprehensive as our boat started rocking at times.

The fear was further fuelled when the Forest staff accompanying us handed over life-jackets to each of us. Since few of us were not adept at swimming in currents like Chilika lagoon the fear was natural.

It was nothing short of nostalgia triggered by childhood folktales like Rip Van Winkle, a Dutch American villager falling asleep for 20 years who lands on an alien shore and discovers himself in a state of stupor amongst a group of little known pigmies in an island.

But the twist in this story is about an island nestling with the Chilika lagoon in Odisha and very less publicised Berhampura island flanked by the lagoon and the Bay of Bengal.

What is exceptional is that, although there are no short statured inhabitants in this island nor a Rip Van waking up after a 20 years of deep slumber, but some countable living creatures who rule this island are some feral cows left abandoned here for more than 50 years. As our boat anchored at the bank of Berhampura we had a sigh of relief from the challenges throughout the one hour voyage.

That was a British time rest house later restructured into a three-room Bungalow of sorts with a huge backyard leading to the other end of the island where the sea tides lap at the bank. We entered through the lovely courtyard with arch shaped exteriors.

All of us accommodated ourselves and waited for the night. There was a mystic air of silence except the noises of the nocturnal creatures. After a brief snack session we sat down planning the schedule for the morning.

The evening soon matured to a night and we were offered a sumptuous dinner made of the commodities ferried in our boat. We woke up to an early morning that was indeed dreamlike, the early Sun playing hide and seek through the canopy of the casuarinas sparsely allowing the morning rays to fall on the sandy surfaces below.

With the winter predominant we chose to walk to the sea shore that was literally bathing in sun-light and there was a spectacle in the waiting.

Almost a vast red-carpet made of uncountable red crabs lacing the expanse of the shore. Our presence was not a welcome sign for them as they crawled over the sea bed retreating into their holes as a defense against outsiders.

We took a circuitous route from there to discover any other living creatures. Our first encounter was with a couple of jackals who were digging a hole on the sand bed to get some crabs out for snacks, perhaps.

As we turned to our left and walked through the sandy track we had a pleasant yet fiery encounter with the ferocious inhabitants of the Island. About one hundred feral cows grazing on the pastures and few in groups were just standing.

Our presence made some of them raise their heads in alert and their fierce breathing and dragging the feet on the surface were enough to guess that our further curiosity can be dangerous. We could recollect the words of the forest personnel that, they normally do not brook presence of outsiders.

So we decided to go back while we noticed a fishing cat suddenly passing through the hedges. That was a lovely and little animal replicating the tiger with black strips on its body. We were back at the shore when the setting sun looked like a brilliant crimson disc lazily dipping low in the horizon.

The scene was captivating and mystic as the night started reigning on the Island, reminding of another morning to come in  the name of a new beginning and a new year.