Proud moment for Andhra Pradesh as Belum Caves get GSI tag
VIJAYAWADA: The Geological Survey of India (GSI) has granted Geo Heritage Site status to the historic Belum Caves. With this recognition, Belum Caves becomes the seventh site in the State to receive this prestigious status.
Tourism Minister Kandula Durgesh hailed the recognition as a proud moment. 'Glad that the GSI has given special recognition to the world-famous Belum Caves in Kolimigundla of Nandyal district. These are not just natural wonders but ancient cultural sites that deserve national and global attention,' he said. Belum Caves is the country's second-longest publicly accessible limestone cave system.
Formed by a tributary of the ancient Chitravathi River, the site also features archaeological remains, including pre-Buddhist pottery and relics linked to Buddhist and Jain monks.
The caves were first documented in 1884 by British geologist Robert Bruce Foote. They were later explored in the 1980s and declared a protected site in 1988 before opening to the public in 2002. Durgesh said that the inclusion in the GSI list is expected to increase both domestic and international tourist footfall. 'With this announcement, Belum Caves will become even more popular as a tourist destination. The tag will also bring infrastructure improvements,' he added.
He said Chief Minister N Chandrababu Naidu is committed to strengthening tourism in the State. 'We will ensure more publicity for Belum Caves to attract foreign visitors and highlight its geological and cultural significance,' Durgesh said.
The tourism department plans to enhance connectivity, upgrade amenities, and promote the site to align with the international attention it is now poised to receive.
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Mint
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From the Himalaya to Bodh Gaya: How Indian, Nepalese and Tibetan Buddhists travelled down the ages
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The snowflakes were as big as a 'flock of wool", floating like birds in the sky. Animals could find no food on the snow-clad slopes of the Himalaya, and even 'the jaws of beasts of prey were stiffened together" in the snowstorm. 'In such fearsome circumstances this strange fate befell me, Milarepa. There were these three: the snowstorm driving down from on high, the icy blast of mid-winter, and the cotton cloth which, the sage Mila, wore". Travellers to Kailash today do not need to face such extreme conditions, but for most of history, those who left their homes for pilgrimage or trade in the Himalaya had a prayer sung in their names, a ritual conducted to protect them, or an amulet gifted to save them from the perils of the journey. Before combustion became the 'hidden principle behind every artifact that we create" as W.G. Sebald wrote in The Rings of Saturn, the pedestrian method was the primary mode of travel, unless one were wealthy enough to be carried either by animals or humans. In the Himalaya, pilgrimage and trade transcended geographies and borders, as did the quest for knowledge. British colonialists believed the Himalaya was a barrier between South Asia and Tibet. Records left by Indian, Nepali and Tibetan pilgrims, ascetics, traders and wanderers over millennia tell us otherwise. In a time when borders were not as stringent, ideas, beliefs and cultures flowed with the itinerants. The foundations of Buddhism in Tibet were laid by travellers such as the Indian panditas and siddhas Santarakshita, Padmasambhava and Atisa, all of whom crossed over from the Indian plains. After the 12th century CE, in the Kathmandu valley, Buddhism found a refuge from the depravations the dharma suffered in the early medieval period in India. Subsequently, it became the most important stop while making a pilgrimage to the holiest site in the religion—Bodh Gaya. Also Read Chasing the Buddha's shadow: A Newar Buddhist festival in Nepal Travellers could be away for months, sometimes even years, and often be subjected to banditry or worse, even death, as during the Tsari pilgrimage, which followed a circuit close to the disputed McMahon line between north-eastern India and south-eastern Tibet. A heavily securitised zone nowadays, few outsiders enter this region today without valid permits, and not without meeting the scrutiny of the security personnel who guard the India-China border. But until 1956, thousands of Tibetan pilgrims crossed the snowy passes every 12 years to follow the sacred circumambulation of the Dakpa Tsari peak, where the goddess Tara is said to have grazed her yaks. This pilgrimage, called Rongkor, was not without its risks. This was one of the few regions in the Himalaya that was not regularly traversed from either side for trade, and the tribes living on the lush southern slopes were known for their brutal warfare methods. In 1944, scores of Tibetans lost their lives in an attack by the tribesmen of the Subansiri Valley during the penultimate Rongkor, with one survivor witnessing the disembowelment of his family members. The massacre was the result of the failure of the Tibetans to pay 'the usual 'protection money' to the Lopas", British officials noted. An elaborate political ritual had been put in place that saw Tibetan officials paying tribute—yaks, blankets, swords, food grains, tea, salt, sugar, beads and shells for women's jewellery—to the tribes for safe passage. But in 1944, the tribes were not pleased with the tribute and attacked the pilgrims. Also Read China's ancient ties with Indian Buddhism The safest roads between the Tibetan plateau and the Indo-Gangetic plains in medieval times went through Nepal, where some of the passes were low enough to cross all-year round. Even then, 18th century Italian Jesuit missionary Ippolito Desideri described the route from the Tibetan border to Kathmandu as 'one of the most dangerous" in all of Himalaya. On the Tibetan side of the mountains, he wrote, '(e)veryone suffers from violent headaches, oppression in the chest and shortness of breath during the ascent." The Buddhist festival of Samyak in Lalitpur (Patan) in the Nepal. Chewing garlic was a popular method to overcome altitude sickness. 'Lozenges and gur-papri" were another solution, according to the Hindu ascetic and scientist Swami Pranavananda. But when travellers crossed over into the lush southern slopes, they were met with raging torrents and steep ravines, and trails were often wide enough only for one person to pass through. Today, newly carved roads often simplify journeys. But the rivers and the cliffs are not always welcoming, for increasingly every monsoon, entire regions are cut off due to landslides and floods. Once the travellers crossed over into the Indo-Gangetic plains, they were met with the most dangerous ailment known to man: malaria. Until the discovery of quinine and the use of DDT to eradicate mosquitoes, the forests of the Terai were the deadliest in all of South Asia. There were also the wild beasts: rhinos, tigers, wild buffaloes and elephants. In the past, itineraries could often take months. If the itinerary took pilgrims to less-populated places, such as during the Tsari Rongkor, illness and starvation were always a concern. Those who suffered serious illnesses could be left behind on the road. In 1812, a pilgrim wrote about Tsari, 'I saw some people close to death due to illness, and also the corpses of some that had died… I saw some who went on their way after abandoning their own sick friends, and the latter then wept since they were stuck and unable to carry on." The Tsari circumambulation could take weary travellers two months to complete, and pilgrims often ran out of food. Death by starvation was common. Also Read The Buddhist ateliers of ancient Magadha Often, the dangers of the road could be more prosaic. In the 13th century, the Tibetan Buddhist monk and translator Dharmasvamin or Chak Lotsāwa Choje Pel decided to go on a pilgrimage to the Diamond Throne (Vajrasana, marking the spot where the Buddha attained enlightenment) in Bodh Gaya. Born in Lhodrak in south-eastern Tibet, he left for Nepal in 1226 CE and trained with several Buddhist masters in Kathmandu valley's monasteries for eight years. From Kathmandu, he travelled south in 1234 CE, arriving first in the Maithili kingdom of Tirhut, following the old trade route over the hills and into the plains. When the first highway connecting Kathmandu to India was built in the 1950s, this road followed the old trade route in parts. Today, the old Tirhuti capital of Simraungadh lies in ruins away from the primary border crossing between India and Nepal. In Tirhut, one of Dharmasvamin's companions had an 'attack of Indian fever" and died. Dharmasvamin himself fared somewhat better. A boatsman refused to take him and his companions across a river, and they were forced to seek shelter in the dark. While making torches out of bamboo poles, a large splinter cut his foot, ripping off skin 'the size of the palm of his foot". The next day, he joined a party of 300 others who were travelling the same road but was told about a mad buffalo that had already killed three men. The party walked along warily, and to no one's surprise, the buffalo appeared in front of them. 'Of black colour, breathing heavily and raising dust with its feet, the animal was ready to charge with lowered horns." The animal thankfully left them alone, and the party continued towards the Ganga plains. But the traveller's woes were not over. The Ganga hadn't yet been breached by a bridge, and a ferry with 300 passengers took an entire day to cross. 'In the river there were sea-monsters called makra (or crocodiles), of the size of a yak." These muggers sometimes caused the boats to sink, sometimes climbed into the boats and snatched away passengers. 'Great was the danger!" the monk swore. Of course, he didn't know that on his way back, he would fall sick in Tirhut for two months, running a high fever and an ache in his legs. The homeowner pestered him to leave and go to the cremation ground, for he had the 'Magadha fever". But a tantric who had earlier been helped by Tibetan Buddhists returned the favour and took care of him. Also Read Chasing Buddhas across Bihar By the early 13th century, Bodh Gaya and other Buddhist centres in north India had been subjected to repeated Turkic invasions. Dharmasvamin found only four practising Buddhists in Bodh Gaya, who had plastered up the door to the Mahabodhi image and painted a Shiva mural on it to protect it from non-Buddhists. Almost 200 years later, another Buddhist traveller would arrive with great hopes to Bodh Gaya, only to find it depleted of Buddhists. The Bengali Buddhist teacher Vanaratna arrived in Bodh Gaya in 1414 CE after a circuitous journey that saw him sail to Sri Lanka from his home in eastern Bengal in 1405 CE. When he returned from Sri Lanka in 1411 CE, the ship's captain marooned his party in the wilds of north-western Sri Lanka without provisions. A 15th century CE painting of the Bengali Mahasiddha Vanaratna (centre), receiving initiation from the White Tara. But thankfully, 'there was plenty of dried coastal fish available for those who ate meat, while for those who did not there was an abundance of delicious fruit." Rescued by a more honest ship captain, Vanaratna made his way to Bodh Gaya overland via Andhra, where the decline in Buddhism made him turn north, first to Kathmandu valley, then to Tibet. Vanaratna is today known as the last Indian Buddhist pandita or teacher to visit Tibet. When he first arrived on the plateau in 1426 CE, he found himself falling short of the high standards Tibetan Buddhists expected from their masters. No one would give his party a place to stay. 'It rained heavily during the night, and they were threatened by flood waters." Vanaratna returned to Nepal, where he received a Vajrayana initiation from Newar Buddhist masters over six years. A more confident Vanaratna returned to Tibet in 1432 CE, and this time, he was feted by kings and monks alike. 'Brimming with confidence and flush with gold", Vanaratna crossed over into Nepal from Kyirong, a border town that remains the primary crossing from China to Nepal, and from where the proposed train from Tibet to Kathmandu will begin. Vanaratna was armed with a mantra to protect him from thieves, but a worse fate was in store for him: a tax collector named Koka Sahu. Also Read The secret stories behind the Buddhist murals of the Ajanta Caves Koka Sahu was a customs agent for one of the Malla kings of the three cities of Kathmandu valley at the time, who inspected all goods brought in by traders. But in Vanaratna's descriptions, he appears more as a crime boss whose gang preyed on wealthy travellers coming from Tibet into the valley. Vanaratna escaped his clutches on the road, but Koka Sahu had enough clout to harass him 'like a nasty crow" during his stay at Tham bahi (Newar for monastery), founded by Buddhist master Atisa Dipankara of Bengal in the mid-11th century, and which today is in the heart of the tourist district of Thamel. Thankfully, the mahapatras (administrators) of the Buddhist city of Patan offered him refuge in Gopichandra monastery. This would be his home for the next 30 years. The monastery still stands today, although it was damaged extensively during the 2015 earthquake. The absence of women from all such itineraries of the past did not mean they did not travel and go on pilgrimages. Very few women could read and write, and the men hindered those who wanted to. When the 17th century Buddhist nun Orgyan Chokyi asked her master to write down 'a few words on my joys and sufferings", she was told, 'There is no reason to write a liberation tale for you—a woman… Be silent!' Orgyan, from the Dolpo region of Nepal, felt humiliated. 'If I knew how to write, I would have reason to write of my joys and sufferings." But as she neared death, the formidable woman that she was, she learnt how to write. 'The impediment of not being able to write disappeared, and I wrote." Orgyan Chokyi wrote about her pilgrimages to Kathmandu and Kailash, and the disappointment she felt when her master did not let her travel to the hidden land of Sikkim. 'My eyes shed many tears." A pilgrim in the Himalaya before modern times, then, did not just have to face mortal danger. Wild animals and inclement weather were topmost on the things to watch out for, but equally dangerous were other humans. Buddhist pilgrims and teachers took the rugged topography and uncertain futures in their stride, negating the oft-held idea that the Himalaya are a barrier. Contact and exchange underpin human history in the Himalaya. Ideas flowed freely in the absence of rigid borders. The travel itineraries of Buddhists tell us the land was well-trodden by those who went in search of the dharma, even if it meant braving unscrupulous tax collectors and mad buffaloes. Amish Raj Mulmi is the author of All Roads Lead North: Nepal's Turn to China (Context India). He is consulting editor at Writer's Side Literary Agency and contributing editor at Himal Southasian. Also Read How the Kanheri Caves tell us a secret Buddhist history of Mumbai Topics You May Be Interested In
Time of India
8 hours ago
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The miracle of seat 11A: Man who survived Ahmedabad tragedy shared same seat number as Thai survivor of 1998 airplane crash
In a bizarre and haunting chain of events, two men—born in different countries, nearly thirty years apart in age, and separated by continents—escaped death from plane crashes while occupying the exact same seat: 11A. One tragedy occurred in Thailand in 1998, while the other unfolded in India in 2025. The unsettling parallel is now making headlines worldwide and stirring discussions across social media. A Brush With Death in 1998 Back in 1998, Thai Airways flight TG261 was attempting to land at Surat Thani airport when it met with disaster. The crash claimed 101 lives out of the 146 passengers and crew on board. As reported by The Telegraph, one of the lucky few to survive was James Ruangsak Loychusak , a Thai actor and musician who was 20 years old at the time. His seat? 11A. Loychusak wrote on Facebook: 'The lone survivor of the plane crash in India was sitting in the same seat number as me, 11A. Goosebumps." by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Binh Hung Hoa B: Unsold Furniture Liquidation 2024 (Prices May Surprise You) Unsold Furniture | Search Ads Learn More Undo Though he walked away with his life, the psychological aftermath of the crash left deep scars. Loychusak later shared that for ten years, he battled an intense fear of flying. The mere sight of stormy clouds would plunge him into distress, and he avoided conversations or contact with other passengers during flights. Even something as simple as someone trying to shut the plane window near him would trigger anxiety, as it disrupted the fragile sense of security he tried to maintain by watching the skies himself. 'I avoided speaking to anyone and always stared outside the window, blocking anyone from closing it to maintain my sense of safety. If I saw dark clouds or a rainstorm outside, I would feel terrible, like I was in hell," he told MailOnline. History Repeats in 2025 Fast forward 27 years, and another aviation nightmare unfolded—this time in Ahmedabad, India. Air India flight AI-171, a Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner, took off from Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport, bound for London Gatwick. Just 33 seconds into its journey, the aircraft lost control and plummeted into a nearby medical college hostel. The catastrophic impact killed 241 people on board. But amid the devastation, one man miraculously survived: 40-year-old Vishwash Kumar Ramesh . Like Loychusak decades earlier, Vishwash had been seated in 11A. A British national of Indian origin, Vishwash was visiting relatives in Gujarat and had recently wrapped up a vacation to Diu with his elder brother, Ajay Kumar Ramesh. Ajay, seated elsewhere on the doomed plane, was among the victims of the crash. Vishwash's escape from death has stunned the world—not just because he was the lone survivor, but because of the eerie link to Loychusak's experience from 1998. Lives Forever Changed Currently residing in London, Vishwash has lived in the UK for over two decades. His wife and child, still in the city, anxiously await his return following the unimaginable ordeal. Though he has physically survived, the emotional and mental toll of such an event is bound to be immense—just as it was for Loychusak years ago. This bizarre, almost mystical link between two survivors—bound by fate, tragedy, and seat 11A—is serving as a chilling reminder of how history can echo in the most unexpected and unsettling ways. Who Is James Ruangsak Loychusak? Ruangsak Loychusak who gained fame under the stage name James Ruangsak, is a prominent figure in Thailand's entertainment industry, celebrated both as a singer and an actor. He made his musical debut with the album Dai which translates to 'It's Time for James,' marking the beginning of his career in the Thai pop music scene. Following his debut, he continued to expand his discography with a string of albums that helped solidify his status as a pop sensation. These included Siren Love, Forever James, The Next, James Hits Series, and James F. M. Of these, Siren Love and James F. M. were particularly successful, becoming two of his most commercially popular records. Among his most well-loved songs are 'Khon Raek' (Thai: คนแรก), meaning 'First One,' 'Khao Man Kai' (ข้าวมันไก่), a playful tune named after the Thai version of Hainanese chicken rice, and 'Mai Aht Bplian Jai' (ไม่อาจเปลี่ยนใจ), which translates roughly as 'I Shouldn't Change Your Mind.' These tracks became staples in Thai pop music during the late 1990s and early 2000s, showcasing his vocal versatility and emotional range. Outside the music world, James also pursued other passions. He trained in taekwondo, a Korean martial art known for its dynamic kicks and disciplined practice, highlighting his interest in physical performance and athleticism. His skills were brought to the big screen when he took on an action-packed role in Gangster Boys, a movie released in February 1997. The film was helmed by director Ricky Loo and produced by Five Star Production, a well-known Thai film company.
