The Elephants of Rajaji National Park


Till a few years back, a gentle pachyderm roamed the jungles of Rajaji National Park. The gentle giant, aptly named Tipu attained iconic status by displaying a unique brand of personality. He was fearless, he was a chronic crop raider, he was electrocuted by humans from which he recovered miraculously, he was radio collared which he dutifully discarded after a few years. He lived up to the age of 65 amidst all the dangers that tuskers experience as they struggle to adopt to the growing greed of human beings and the unbalanced need for development at the expense of forests.



Tipu’s feats attain extraordinary proportions when one considers that he was born prior to Independence and grew up amidst extensive grasslands and forests. As he grew up, large tracts of his habitat got gradually taken over by crop fields and human settlements. However, contrary to common wisdom, Tipu did not consider humans as his enemy. He simply readjusted and added the sugarcane and paddy grown by farmers within his home range to his menu. And he never killed a human being during his long life!

Unlike his peers, Tipu was not apprehensive of crossing the road and railway track in the Chilla-Motichur corridor area which served as the bridge between the two halves of Rajaji National Park. The exponential increase in vehicles and railway traffic in the corridor made most of his peers apprehensive but Tipu remain unfazed. He stuck to his usual routine and showed complete disdain to the vehicle movement while moving from one part of the forest to the other. It was largely due to him that the Chilla-Motichur corridor was saved by leveraging the knowledge gained via his radio collar. He was indeed the catalyst who reiterated the exceptional ability of bull elephants to move across disturbed areas and maintain the link between fragmented areas.

At his prime, Tipu governed a range close to 800 sq. km and it is extremely likely that his legacy would continue for a long time via his offsprings. Tipu was born free under colonial rule and breathed his last in Independent India. However, his end did not come via a collision with a train or a truck plying at high speed. Nor did he succumb to the stray bullet of a poacher. Tipu sustained severe injuries while confronting a much younger bull over a young female and fell down from the Motichur railway bridge. For a wildlife lover, Tipu epitomized the hope that man and elephants can co-exist after all. And for a romantic, he embodied the free spirit, the ability to live one’s life as per one’s own terms. Tipu does not have an epitaph that he can call his own but if he ever gets one, the following words would be apt.

“They say that somewhere in Africa the elephants have a secret grave where they go to lie down, unburden their wrinkled gray bodies, and soar away, light spirits at the end.”
― Robert McCammon, Boy’s Life

As we planned our trip to Rajaji National Park, my mind was preoccupied with Tipu’s exploits across the length and breadth of the national park. I was brimming with excitement at the prospect of seeing young bulls who may be the torch bearers of Tipu’s legacy. I read and re-read Anita Nair’s beautiful travelogue “The elephants are coming”. I hoped our sojourn to the forest would replicate these lines from her travelogue “In Wayanad, the road to celebrityville begins with the elephant. Everyone, almost everyone has an elephant tale to tell. Elephant wisdom to disseminate; elephant theories to propound and an I-don’t-know-how-I-lived-to-tell-you-this-encounter with an elephant”.

And we were not disappointed. Elephants were everywhere! Our taxi driver narrated stories of his numerous elephant encounters during our back breaking journey to the forest resort. The stories continued to pour in from the resort staff, guide and practically anyone we met and interacted with.

Rajaji National Park lived up to its billing of being the host to one of the largest Asian Elephant population in the country. As soon as we entered the forest in the morning, we heard the rustling of leaves and soon enough we could sense their presence. We did not get a good view of the animals but our guide assured us that we would have plenty of opportunities to see them in the afternoon.

We decided to shift our focus and were not disappointed. The birds of the park enthralled us. The Bee eaters, Kingfishers, Hornbills, Eagles took our breath away and for a while we stopped thinking about elephants.

Following a quick lunch, we were back at the park. The first encounter with Tipu’s clan came via a baby elephant who seemed to have strayed from her mom. While we could not see her, we could almost sense her presence and her stern voice “back off”.


We headed forward and came across a young family on the river bed. The setting sun, the presence of a pair of Spotted Deer and the family’s nonchalant walk towards the bush made it an almost surreal experience.

But our Tipu moment arrived when the guide stopped the jeep abruptly as we were coming down from the cliff. He pointed to the lone bull happily munching grass on the river bed below. The languid posture of the bull, unhurried and unfazed by his surroundings gave us a glimpse of the aura that Tipu was associated with.

As we were about to leave the park, we came across a herd of 8-10 female elephants. As we watched them carry on with their feeding and bonding session, I could not but help thinking what would it take to ensure that we carry on with each other’s’ lives without getting into a conflict.

I reminded myself that Tipu never retaliated despite being on the verge of losing his life at the hands of humans. I also reminded myself of the extraordinary tale of South African elephants paying homage to the man who saved their lives. Here is an excerpt from the article which deepened my respects for Tipu and his clan.

For 12 hours, two herds of wild South African elephants slowly made their way through the Zululand bush until they reached the house of late author Lawrence Anthony, the conservationist who saved their lives.

The formerly violent, rogue elephants, destined to be shot a few years ago as pests, were rescued and rehabilitated by Anthony, who had grown up in the bush and was known as the “Elephant Whisperer.”

For two days the herds loitered at Anthony’s rural compound on the vast Thula Thula game reserve in the South African KwaZulu – to say good-bye to the man they loved. But how did they know he had died March 7? Read more here



Knowledge Managers in the age of AI and RPA


“One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin”. Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
This is a story of a fictional Knowledge Manager who has been experiencing his Gregor Samsa moment of late! Let’s call him A.

Over the past few months, A has been struggling! The phrases AI and RPA have robbed him of a good night’s sleep and he keeps wondering if he would wake up one morning and be told that his skills around networking, fostering collaboration, transforming data into stories and most importantly stimulating conversations would no longer be considered as essential skills for practising KM. A is at his wits end thinking if he needs to reskill himself or if it is time for him to test new waters.

Throughout his KM career, A has been an ardent fan of LinkedIn and had used it a lot to introspect and decipher new concepts. He turns to his old friend and within a few minutes, extracts insights to motivate himself. The two articles that catch his attention and imagination are RPA to AI: the intelligent automation journey and Knowledge Management That Makes a Difference.

The RPA to AI article is an eye opener for him. He understands that we are on a journey to automate intelligence using robots. The first stage of the automation process sounds familiar to him as he has been involved in process optimization activities that aimed at cutting costs and increasing efficiencies and accuracy. Rather than feeling apprehensive, A starts to feel energised as he realizes that this brand of KM is not alien to him. Over the years, he has evolved from a backend data collector and aggregator to a business analyst who attempts to provide knowledge based solutions based on stakeholder needs ONLY. He realizes that the first generation Robot could be his friend after all!

A takes cautious steps towards the second stage which comes to him as a huge surprise. Despite his best attempts, A has never been able to extract insights from unstructured data like emails, scanned images etc. due to human and technology limitations. He had to resign to the fact that “We are drowning in information but starved for knowledge” (Megatrends by John Naisbitt). Now he feels optimistic realizing that the Cognitive Robot in stage two can help him create patterns from repetitive processes around inputs and outputs. It strikes him that the second generation Robot using natural language processing (NLP) and machine learning could accelerate the process of experiential learning within an organization.

Moving on to the third stage, A feels like seeing himself in the mirror. The intelligent chatbot or the third generation Robot appears to have assumed his persona that he has painstakingly developed over the years. A has always strived to enable interaction with his stakeholders by steering them in the right direction in their quest for knowledge. However, a few years ago, he did start to acknowledge that the process takes disproportionate amount of his time and despite his best efforts he can help a limited set of stakeholders only. He had secretly started hoping for a magic wand powered solution that could automatically learn from conversations, improve over a period of time and take over his mantle of human GPS in the KM ecosystem.

Approaching stage four, A begins to feel cautiously optimistic about his chances of remaining relevant in the KM discipline in the foreseeable future. He is completely bowled over though as he comes to terms with the real power of artificial intelligence in this stage. He recognizes that at this stage the robot would be able to mimic human intelligence and would comfortably be able to turbo-charge mission critical activities. And going by the same analogy, the robot should be able to address the requirements of extracting and then documenting the critical knowledge of experts quite easily. It would indeed be the Holy Grail for KM!

A realizes that this stage is still largely conceptual and it is likely to take considerable amount of time before it becomes a reality. Realizing that he would be able to earn his bread for a few more years after all by complementing his skills and embracing the robots from stages 1-3, he ponders “will there be no human KMs when stage four finally takes off”.

He flicks over to the second article “Knowledge Management That Makes a Difference” gives him hope. Digging deep into his own experiential learning, patterns created over the years and supported by the golden principles highlighted in the article, he arrives at a conclusion that stage four would still need humans who would facilitate the art of collaboration and sharing. They may not be called Knowledge Managers but as “the Bard” had once said “What’s in a name?”

And here are the golden principles that have been borrowed directly from the original article:

  • Connection before content                                

  • We learn when we talk

  • Knowledge is created and shared in conversation

  • Learn in small groups integrate in the large group

  • Asking opens the door to learning

  • Experts are used to stimulate thinking not to provide answers


Atop the Benog Hill

“[Walking] is the perfect way of moving if you want to see into the life of things. It is the one way of freedom. If you go to a place on anything but your own feet you are taken there too fast, and miss a thousand delicate joys that were waiting for you by the wayside.” — Elizabeth von Arnim

The trek to Benog Hill Top offered the weary travellers (WTs from hereon) what they had set out for. They had craved for a basic B&B lodge which would act as their base prior and post the short trek. And they had hoped that the trek would allow themselves to be “free” for a few hours.

They were lucky that their initial plan to scale the Nag Tibba peak was ditched by a well-known hiking company. The setback facilitated an interaction with the affable Vipul from Yeti Outdoors who was sympathetic to their simple demands and put them under the stewardship of Manish, a local youth bubbling with energy.

The WTs were picked up by Manish from their lodge in Hathipaon which is conveniently located around 5 KMs from the hustle and bustle of Mussoorie and on the way to Benog Hill. A quick drive to the Cloud End Forest Resort marked the start of the trek which was a steady climb and took around 2.5 hours including all the pit stops along the way to soak in the sights and sounds of the hills and forests.


Your destination is at the top!

With spring around the corner, Mother Nature offered the WTs with a red carpet welcome. The hills were awash with the Rhododendron flowers. While the WTs marvelled at the red hills, Manish urged them to act as locals and bite and chew the flowers. The taste was more pungent compared to the Buransh (local name for Rhododendron) juice that they had tasted in other parts of the hills. The Buransh tasting session slowed down the travellers considerably but neither they nor Manish was complaining.

The climb upwards slowly opened up the beautiful vistas of Hathipaon, Doon valley, Aglar river valley and the distant peaks which were not clear on the day of their trek (on a clear day peaks like Chaukhamba and Bandar Punch can be seen). The climb continued and before the legs got too heavy and the alarm bells started ringing, the Jwalaji Devi Temple appeared and signalled the WTs that they were close. And wasn’t the climb worth all the panting and the money spent on newly bought trekking shoes from Decathlon? The views from the temple and the top was mesmerizing!

The cool breeze, the emptiness of the place and the 360 degree alluring views provided the WTs a perfect opportunity to relax and introspect. The WTs, despite being seasoned travellers, were taken aback when Manish opened his rucksack and offered them Frooties and Dairy Milk. The surreal combination of the offering and the Manish’s gesture on top of Benog Hill reminded the WTs the need to experience the simple pleasures of life.

As clichéd as it sounds, all good things come to an end. After frequent stops to turn back to take one last look at the blue sky atop Benog Hill, the WTs were back to where it all started in another two hours or so. They promised to be back in the hills and Manish vetoed their decision wholeheartedly.


Manish can be contacted at 9634187759.



In the footsteps of Jim

“Eighteen miles to the North – North-East of Naini Tal is a hill eight thousand feet high and twelve to fifteen miles long, running east and west. The western end of the hill rises steeply and command one of the best views to be had anywhere of the Himalayan snowy range. This range, and all the hills that lie between it and the plains of India, run east and west, and from a commanding point on any of the hills an uninterrupted view can be obtained not only of the snows to the north but also of the hills and valleys to the east and to the west as far as eye can see. People who have lived at Muktesar claim that it is the most beautiful spot in Kumaon, and that its climate has no equal.

A tiger that thought as highly of the amenities of Muktesar as human beings did, took up her residence in the extensive forests adjoining the small settlement. Here she lived very happily on sambhar, kakar, and wild pig, until she had the misfortune to have an encounter with a porcupine…..” – Jim Corbett from Temple Tigers

One of my favourite childhood memories pertains to the story telling sessions hosted by my grandmother in our village house in Fulia. Since there was no electricity, we had to fall back on the flickering lights of the Lonthon (lantern) which added the much needed ambience in those cold nights. Google rebukes me that it should be Lanthana but like a true bong, I would vehemently deny and stick to the original pronunciation 🙂


Our story telling sessions were somewhat obvious as they were always focused on two things:

  • Stories from the Jim Corbett Omnibus (the Bengali translation) which I had received as a gift from my grandmother
  • Her personal experiences of staying in the vicinity of the forests and wild animals. My grandfather was a forest ranger by the way

Thanks to my grandmother, I learned that Jim Corbett was not just a hunter per excellence but was a conservationist to the core. Through the storytelling sessions she urged me to explore nature and not to get frightened at the mere sight of wild animals. Thanks to her and our village home which was home to many species of birds, stray foxes, mongooses and lots of snakes, I developed a love for forests and its inhabitants and Jim became my childhood hero.

Over the past two years, we have been roaming around Uttarakhand and have been to Lansdowne, Landour, Jabarkhet, Ranikhet, Vijaypur, Nachni, Nainital and Mukteshwar. Every time we visit a new place, I try to find out if my childhood hero Jim had been there. While there have been moments when locals did not get baffled by my questions about him and his tigers, the “Wow” moment did not come till we visited Mukteshwar recently.

No sooner had I started my customary enquiries, I was blown away by “Jim was here”. Everybody seemed to know of the place where he stayed and the path that he took to the forest to kill the man eater. I was enthralled by the Pahadi folklores i.e. how the local shikaris (hunters) and then the chest beating city based shikaris failed to even to take a shot at the tigress who proved much smarter than her human counterparts. Ultimately it was Jim’s turn to do a trek from Nainital and kill the magnificent tigress over a period of 72 hours of tracking the animal in the forest. The tales included details of his disappointment upon killing the tigress and unearthing the reason why she became a man eater in the first place.

Mukteshwar is changing! The 5 km walk from our resort to the PWD bungalow where Jim Corbett stayed is strewn with new hotel properties. Apparently, more and more city dwellers are choosing this quaint little hamlet as their second home but still my customary morning walks gave me the pleasure of watching gorgeous sunrises, listening to the chirping of Himalayan birds and not meeting fellow human beings for most parts.

What has not changed though are:


The bungalow where Jim Corbett stayed. Managed and maintained by the PWD for its special guests it has now been handed over to KMVN who plan to open it up as a hotel in 2017. Mere mortals would be allowed to book rooms and enjoy the uninterrupted view of Himalayas.

Nanda Devi, Nanda Kot, Nandaghunti, Trishul and Panchachuli are among the major peaks visible from the rooms / lawns of the bungalow

The forest has also managed to hold on. And it is still possible to follow Jim in his footsteps to the waterhole where he encountered the tigress. I would let the photos speak from here on. If you are interested, please reach out to the affable Bhagwat (image and phone number right at the end). Bhagwat is a self-taught naturalist who plans to starts his own travel business soon.


This old house is more than 100 years old and was developed as the servant quarters. The trek starts here as you go down to the jungle

The forest path…


The spot where the tigress was killed

And here is Bhagwat! He can be contacted at 09719586398.


Happy New Year!


Welcome to the Jabarkhet Experience!

Modern day India is abuzz with start-ups. If you happen to live in a city like Gurgaon like myself, you cannot but take notice of the entrepreneurial spirit that makes the city liveable despite all its challenges. It is indeed inspiring to find entrepreneurs trying to fix the problems that the common man on the street faces with innovative solutions. However, a unique start-up is taking shape far away from the urban madness of Gurgaon. It is not a normal start-up and has been incubated at an elevation of around 2,000 metres above sea level. Sounds interesting! Let me share the story of Jabarkhet Nature Reserve, a privately owned and operated nature reserve in Uttarakhand.

On our last trip to Landour, we came across a poster of the nature reserve in our resort. Friendly inquiries revealed nuggets that sounded quite surreal. The forested area of Jabarkhet has passed many a hands since it was known as Rockville and owned by Dr. Wright. Moving forward, it was sold to Lala Parma Nand and Lala Ram Prasad Jain in 1929. The property has since stayed with the family and in 1970 was broken into three parts consisting of 300 acres each. It came to be known as Jabarkhet Estate I, II and III. The owner of Estate I, Mr. J.P. Jain was an ardent lover of nature and attempted to utilize the natural resources without depleting the forest. His love for the forest has inspired the birth of a beautiful project which aims to preserve the bio-diversity of the area and share it with others.

The promoters of the project, Vipul Jain (son of Mr. J.P. Jain), and Sejal Worah, a well-known conservationist in India are attempting a model that has precedents in other parts of the world (South Africa for example) but is unique in the context of India. Happy to be corrected of course!
The Jabarkhet model has refrained from operating as an NGO and soliciting donations. Instead, the nature reserve is attempting to achieve sustainability by generating revenue through individual and institutional memberships, one-time visitor entry fees, product merchandising and fees linked to facilitating school field trips and research activities. Community involvement is high as the guards and naturalists have been hired from the neighbouring villages. The money generated from the above mentioned activities is used to pay the employees and maintain the nature trails and the artificial waterholes.

When you visit Jabarkhet reserve today, nature at its pristine best extends a warm welcome. However, when you hear the stories of its turnaround from a place which was characterized by overgrazing resulting in a complete decimation of the ground vegetation and weeds taking over, declining wildlife population, increasing pile of garbage left by visitors, the efforts seem nothing but herculean.
Image source: Official site, Jabarkhet Nature Reserve

The restoration efforts started in 2013 saw the removal of 400kgs of trash. More than three tons of the weed Eupatorium had to be uprooted manually to allow the recovery of vegetation that are native to the area. Three new waterholes were developed to ensure access to water to the resident and migrant wildlife population. The involvement of the local community in the project helped the reserve negate the ill effects of over grazing and cutting of trees.
Image source: Official site, Jabarkhet Nature Reserve

And how has Mother Nature responded! Today, when you visit Jabarkhet you would be greeted by the sight of the spectacular Kaleej pheasant. If you are lucky, you would look up and see a glimpse of the Himalayan Griffon and the Lammergier vultures. Wildlife, though not easily spotted is represented by the leopard, barking deer, goral, yellow throated marten, leopard cat, langur, black bear, porcupine, wild boar and the sambar. Many of these animals are making a comeback to this area and the camera traps provide you a glimpse of what is around you.

While we visited the reserve in December which is more or less the barren period, we got a glimpse of what’s to come in spring. The beautiful “paper plant” bush with its exotic white and pink flowers assured us that our next visit would be more rewarding than walking through the fallen pine and deodar cones. We were told that Jabarkhet experiences the emergence of violets and gentians from February to April. Moving on to early summer (May-June), the forests are awash with the bright yellow flowers of the barberry bushes dotted with wild roses. They are supplemented by the daisies and clover which take over the meadows. The monsoons bring about the “peacock” flower that covers the hill sides and upper meadows. The list goes on and on!

The nature reserve has created eight walking trails excellently sign-posted all the way. We took the “Ridge Trail” and went up to Bear Hill Top via the Flag Hill Top. The entire trail allowed us to soak into the forest but what waited us when we hit the top most point was nothing sort of mesmerizing. I will let the pictures tell you the story.

If you are fan of start-ups and enjoy exploring and supporting innovative ideas, you would love the entrepreneurial spirit of Jabarkhet Nature Reserve. You would probably be able to connect instantly if you love nature and prefer walking rather than driving. Irrespective of the lens that you prefer, please do spread the word about this beautiful place and the initiative. And next time when you travel to Dehradun / Mussoorie / Landour, hop on to the Jabarkhet experience.

Click here to read more about the reserve. And here are the images…

Following the Ridge Trail

See you in Spring!

The view gets better as you go higher up

View from Bear Hill Top

Tea, anyone?

Newest member of the Jabarkhet fan club!

“Arre huzoor, wah Taj boliye!”


As a young kid, I was lucky to have visited the Taj Mahal. Like most, I had picked up the customary souvenir (a replica) to earn bragging rights among my peers. As I grew up, I was horrified to hear the story that the Emperor had ordered that the chief architect’s hands be cut post completion of the mausoleum. My young mind could not relate to this gruesome act associated with a building that is touted as a symbol of love. I decided never to visit the place again.

As I grew up, my resolution was put to test. First it was Ustad Zakir Hussain and the Taj Mahal tea campaign. Like many, I was mesmerized as the Ustad’s curly locks, lightening fingers flying across the surface of the tabla and his smile lit up our good old ‘Konark’ TV screen. The visuals were complemented by an anonymous voice: “Wah, Ustad, wah!” To which, the Ustad replied “Arre huzoor, wah Taj boliye!” And all the while, the shining white monument, resplendent in all its glory stood in the background. Feeling nostalgic! You can relive the magic on YouTube.

The next was when I realized that there is no scholarly evidence to the cutting of hands story. I was relieved as this provided a perfect excuse to break my resolution. Years went by and although I started visiting Delhi regularly, from where Agra isn’t too far, the trip to the Taj never happened.

Fast forward to 2015: as we were trying to settle down in Gurgaon it became clear to us that we would need to be inspired once in a while to continue to earn a living without letting go our interests. After a couple of short visits to Lansdowne and the majestic Bharatpur, it was time to go back to the Taj. Following our customary research which enabled us to book entry tickets online prior to our visit, we hit the road. We took the NH2 as I was unable to convince our friendly driver of the merits of enjoying the Yamuna Expressway. After a friendly banter, we agreed to take the expressway on our way back.

The journey was fairly uneventful but as we entered Agra, the presence of the mausoleum was overbearing. It seemed all the road signs led to one direction and every other establishment had something to do with it. We settled down in one of the numerous hotels which ended with either the phrase “Palace” or “Mahal” promising to one another that we would be at the gates by 6am. Despite our best intentions and the hot cup of tea served by the only staff in the Palace who was up at that unearthly hour, we could not reach the gate before 6.30. We realized we had not factored the walk of around 750 meters from Shilpgram (eastern gate). From Shilpgram, where you can park your vehicle, you have the option of taking a rickshaw, a horse driven cart or just walk. If you stay in a fancier “Palace”, you are probably eligible for the battery vehicles which chose to ignore us, the lesser mortals as they breezed past. The walk, by the way is quite pleasant in the morning.

After flashing our online ticket receipts (strangely we were probably among a handful of visitors who did not have a printed ticket), we were allowed in for a few hours of bliss. A word of advice: the queues at the gate are separate for men and women and it becomes easier if you have more than a copy of the online receipts.

I would stop and let the pictures below narrate our experience for the next two hours. Suffice to say, the workmanship, the design and the architecture takes your breath away. As you admire the beauty of the mausoleum, it helps to have the excellent hand held audio guide to seek answers to many questions that are likely crop up in your mind.

For me, more than the questions, the realization that this UNESCO World Heritage Site is a great example of a fusion of various structural traditions (including Moghul, Persian, Central Asian, pre-Moghul Indian and European architecture) was more important. At a time when we seem to become more and more impatient and intolerant, it dawned on me that one of the finest memorials in the world is indeed one of best examples of multiculturalism and assimilation of cultures. It represents India as it has always been and hopefully would continue to be.

In this context, I could not resist sharing this poem written by the greatest Bengali ever born.

You knew, Shah Jehan, life and youth, wealth and glory, they all drift away in the current of time. You strove, therefore, to perpetuate only the sorrow of your heart…Let the splendor of diamond, pearl, and ruby vanish like the magic shimmer of the rainbow. Only let this one tear-drop, this Tajmahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time, forever and ever.
O King, you are no more. Your empire has vanished like a dream, your throne lies shattered…your minstrels sing no more, your musicians no longer mingle their strains with the murmuring Jamuna…Despite all this, the courier of your love, untarnished by time, unwearied, unmoved by the rise and fall of empires, unconcerned with the ebb and flow of life and death, carries the ageless message of your love from age to age: ‘Never shall I forget you, beloved, never.’

– By Rabindranath Tagore (translated by Kshitish Roy) from One Hundred and One Poems by Rabindranath Tagore (pp. 95-96)

And here are the images (finally).

First glimpse: “Arre huzoor, wah Taj boliye!”

Care for a walk in the park?

What a way to start your day!

The not so impressive Yamuna as a backdrop

A memorial like no other!

We call Taj our home

Till we meet again