Who Carved All This?

Continuing the journey in to the mysterious Earth

For children and curious minds of all ages

Yogendra Deva

 

The summer holidays had ended, and school had reopened.

That evening, Mihir walked into Aaba's room carrying his tablet. He dropped into the familiar chair opposite him, looking far more excited than tired after his first day back at school.

"Aaba, the first day after the holidays is always fun."

Aaba looked up from his book and smiled.

"Oh? Nobody talks about homework?"

"Not at all."

"Then what do they talk about?"

"Holidays!"

Aaba laughed.

"That hasn't changed since my school days. We hardly travelled anywhere except to our grandparents' homes."

"That must have been a different kind of fun."

"I think it was."

Mihir switched on his tablet.

"You know what surprised me today?"

"What?"

"Nobody was talking about hotels or food. It was the landscapes that fascinated everyone."

Aaba looked intrigued.

"Show me."

Mihir scrolled through a few photographs before stopping at one.

"Hampi."

Aaba recognised it instantly.

The photograph showed a gigantic boulder perched on another rock as though someone had balanced it there only yesterday.

"It looked impossible," Mihir said. "As if somebody had placed it there for fun."

"It certainly does," Aaba agreed. "That famous rock is called Krishna's Butter Ball."

"What a funny name!"

"Legend says little Krishna dropped a ball of butter there while playing."

Mihir laughed.

"That must have been one enormous lump of butter!"

"Krishna was no ordinary child."

They laughed together before Mihir looked at the photograph again.

"But honestly, Aaba... why doesn't it fall?"

Aaba studied the picture for a moment.

"The answer," he said, "is hiding underneath."

He pointed to the broad granite rocks supporting the balancing boulder.

"Nothing is hanging in the air. It rests on a strong granite foundation."

"There goes my magic."

Aaba smiled.

"The real magic is even better."

Granite forms deep underground. Over millions of years, rain, wind and changing weather remove the weaker rock until only the strongest and most interesting shapes remain. Every now and then, Nature leaves behind something so extraordinary that people travel halfway around the world just to see it.

Then Aaba smiled.

"Nature is an excellent housekeeper."

"Housekeeper?"

"She keeps sweeping away loose material until only the interesting fellows remain."

Mihir burst into laughter and looked once more at the balancing boulder.

"It wasn't shaped by a sculptor?"

"No."

"It was shaped by rain..."

"...time..."

"...and one very hardworking housekeeper."

For a few moments they simply admired the photograph.

Then Aaba smiled.

"So, was that the only landscape everyone was talking about?"

Mihir grinned.

"Not even close."

He swiped to the next photograph.

It looked as though somebody had sliced the Earth open.

Aaba smiled.

"The Grand Canyon."

"I simply couldn't believe it," Mihir admitted. "It didn't look like a valley at all."

"Most people feel that way the first time they see it."

"What made it?"

"A river."

Mihir looked up in disbelief.

"A river?"

"The Colorado River."

Aaba leaned back.

"It has been flowing through those rocks for millions of years, carrying away grain after grain of sand. Nature doesn't use bulldozers."

He smiled.

"She simply has all the time in the world."

Mihir looked again at the photograph.

"It almost looks like a giant layered cake."

"Geologists rather like that comparison," Aaba replied. "Every layer is another page in Earth's history book."

Mihir nodded thoughtfully.

"So, the river became both a sculptor and a historian."

"I've never heard it put better."

After a brief pause, Aaba continued.

"You know, we have something very similar in India."

"We do?"

"Gandikota. It is proudly called the Grand Canyon of India. The Pennar River has carved a magnificent gorge there through ancient quartzite rocks. Standing proudly beside it is the historic Gandikota Fort."

"I've just found another place for Mummy and Daddy's holiday list." Mihir seemed excited.

Aaba laughed.

"I'm pleased to hear that. India has far more geological treasures than most people realise."

Mihir was already swiping to the next photograph.

Aaba glanced at it and smiled instantly.

"Ladakh."

Mihir smiled.

"You recognised it that quickly?"

"I'd recognise those mountains anywhere," Aaba replied. "The first time I worked there forty years back, I was just as wonder-struck as you are."

"What surprised you most?"

"Everything."

"The bare mountains."

"The wide valleys."

"The unbelievable colours."

He smiled at the memory.

"Then someone welcomed me to India's cold desert."

Mihir looked puzzled.

"A desert? But where was the heat?"

Aaba explained that Ladakh lay behind the mighty Himalaya, which blocked most rain clouds. With almost no rainfall, the mountains remained bare and the valleys dry. There were hardly any trees to hide the rocks, so they proudly displayed their natural colours.

"The Earth is wearing its own colours," Mihir said softly.

Aaba nodded.

"It was like walking through a giant natural art gallery."

He paused before opening another photograph.

"Then came Pangong Lake."

The sapphire-blue water stretched between mountains, reflecting them so perfectly that it was difficult to tell where the land ended and the sky began.

"And Nubra Valley surprised me even more," Aaba continued. "A cold desert with rolling sand dunes... and double-humped Bactrian camels."

Mihir laughed.

"Camels in the Himalaya! That's unfair."

"I thought exactly the same."

Another photograph appeared.

"A place called Magnetic Hill."

"The one where vehicles seem to roll uphill?"

"Yes."

"Do they?"

Aaba smiled.

"No."

"Our eyes simply play a clever trick on our brain."

"So even mountains enjoy practical jokes."

"They certainly do."

Mihir leaned back.

"I thought Ladakh was just another holiday destination."

"So did I," Aaba replied. "Then I discovered it was one of the world's finest geology classrooms."

He reached for his laptop.

"You've shown me your classmates' holiday photographs."

"Now let me show you a few from my own collection."

Aaba switched on his laptop.

"You've shown me your classmates' holiday photographs," he said. "Now let me show you a few from my own collection."

A folder appeared on the screen.

Interesting Landforms

Inside were two more folders.

Field Visits & Travels

Presentation Material

He opened the first folder.

Photograph after photograph filled the screen.

"You've collected all these?" Mihir asked.

"For nearly fifty years."

The first showed twisted layers of rock in Pin Valley.

"They look as though somebody twisted them with giant hands."

"In a way, somebody did," Aaba smiled. "When enormous forces inside our dynamic Earth squeeze rocks over millions of years, they don't always break. Sometimes they simply yield."

"They fold like a carpet pushed from one end."

The next photograph showed Barren Island rising from the sea.

"India's only active volcano," Aaba said. "The Earth is still building new land there."

Then came the Grand Canyon, this time seen from the rim.

"I've stood there," Aaba said quietly. "Photographs are wonderful, but standing there makes you realise how small you really are."

A splash of brilliant colours lit up the screen.

"Yellowstone."

"It looks painted."

"It is—by tiny heat-loving bacteria."

The next image showed steam rising from the ground.

"The Earth is still cooking beneath our feet."

A giant eye appeared in the Sahara Desert.

"The Eye of Africa," Aaba said. "Even geologists argued for years about how it formed."

Then came huge stone spheres resting on a lonely beach.

"Dinosaur eggs?" Mihir guessed hopefully.

Aaba laughed.

"Almost everyone says that. They're the Moeraki Boulders."

The next photograph sparkled.

Gigantic gypsum crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling of Lechuguilla Cave.

"They're beautiful."

Aaba nodded.

"Sometimes water doesn't carve."

"It decorates."

The final photograph showed Durdle Door reaching proudly into the sea.

"Waves never get tired," Aaba said. "They keep knocking until even solid rock opens the door."

The slideshow ended.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

"You've really been to all these places?"

"I've been fortunate."

Aaba moved the cursor to the second folder.

Presentation Material

"I've explored only a tiny corner of the Earth," Aaba said with a smile. "The rest is still waiting."

He opened the folder.

Across the screen flashed one astonishing landscape after another—the endless white mirror of Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia, the towering sandstone pillars of Zhangjiajie in China, the gleaming white terraces of Pamukkale in Türkiye, the spectacular Rainbow Mountains, the giant crystals of Naica Cave in Mexico, Meteor Crater in Arizona, and towering glaciers, gigantic landslides, sea arches, lava tubes, mushroom rocks and sweeping sand dunes from different corners of the world.

Every photograph seemed to ask the same question.

How on Earth did this happen?

Aaba shut the laptop.

"But that's a story for another evening."

He glanced at his watch.

Mihir laughed.

"Bridge?"

Aaba nodded.

"Bridge."

Mihir grinned.

"Go, Aaba. If you're late, your partner will kill you."

They both laughed.