It was time to wind up with yet another season of wonderful jaunts and I decided to give 2010-2011 transition a solitary farewell, before I curl inside my home for the next 3 months to escape the wrath of Indian summer and emerge out when SW monsoon hits the western coast to shower me with yet another season of romance, road trips and precious memories to the infinitely large natural hard disk inside my skull. I’ve never been attracted by the summer’s harsh light and heat, save the scorched landscape across the vast Indian mainland. But nature’s shortcoming during this tough period provides a valuable opportunity to build the base for the remaining year as I plan my work to an extent, that I shouldn’t be bothered when the heavens open up 3 months after. As I mention about work, an inner concern is struggling hard to expose itself through this dry posting. Indian automotive Industry is emerging at a scary pace and every resource fueling its phenomenal growth is constrained to extreme. As a part of this massive economic sector, I feel content to perceive its capability in keeping the dreams of an extraordinary and unbelievably large workforce alive but at the same time, concerned by the utilization of vital resources to keep this successful run charged. Indian set up is as complex as the Big Bang theory, irresponsibility and short sightedness overshadow the urge to capitalize on the unreasonable demand sparked by an unexpected growth in income rates. Unlike the global scenario where growth has been planned and justifiable, Indian economic boom is a matter of concern as haphazard planning and exploitation is making the future a distant, but a viable threat. A society is really civilized when it minimizes its consumption and learns to sustain development with future holding a promise, which has been completely ignored in India’s planning. Adding to the existing pain is the lack of recycling and overshooting the actual product lifecycle resulting in deliberate pollution of the already fragile ecosystem, not to mention the choked up cities. Nevertheless, nature is resilient and patient enough to forgive our misdeeds and offer a respite we look for, from the chaos created very much by our own hands. Alas, it wouldn’t prevail forever and will force to change our unacceptable ways of living through a major event, a major impact. With serious fears keeping me occupied I’ve always been unable to enjoy my jaunts with full content and with similar state of mind, drove out of home on a cold January night to check out how a secluded hide out in the Eastern Ghats has held itself against the brute rage of monetary enhancement’s butterfly wing effect.
Time is fast, more so when you are occupied and accompanied. How time feels when you are alone and racing against it, to beat it, was what there in my mind when I had to embark on this friendless drive to a not much frequented hide-out, tucked away in the Eastern Ghats. This trip was all about time of which I had very little of it, not to mention a similar state of budget, and it was the most rapid effort I have ever made. Stepped out of home at 22:30 hrs leaving behind my parents with a frustration induced narrow face, as they couldn’t hold losing their patience over my lonely night drive to Central TN without a spare tyre, insurance, driving license but with only a damaged left suspension arm and the EOS camera on a full charge. I knew I’ll be back but natural instinct made them express their manipulated hate, which itself was fueled by the infinite love they had over their only son. Responsibility was at its highest point as I drove with extreme caution through the mad festival induced traffic over NH45 and the lower arm was upgrading my blood pressure levels with that notorious squeak. Retained the dull Speedo pointer at the 80 Kmph speed limit to prevent straining it harder and it was an unbothered drive with no intentions or photographic objectives. Driving alone wasn’t as difficult or boring as I expected it to be rather, it gave the time and space to test my patience and liability under a demanding situation. I drove at my desired speed and listened to my favourite songs as there weren’t friends to influence either of them. This drive made me realize, driving slow at a constant pace actually helps reach destinations much safer and with the fuel gauge at much higher level, not to mention the tireless body. It also exposed how intimidating it would have been to an amateur on a national highway when I used to speed past them with only few “CM” separating the vehicle bodies and in only few seconds, as vehicles sped past me in similar fashion and similar meaningless dash. NH45 provided the necessary space to protect myself and the car from speeding vehicles as I remained glued to the left corner and graduated in Kms at a pace hitherto unknown to my tranquil mind. We only realize the meaning of bad when we are good and hope this was the last time I was forced to learn the meaning of bad. There should be a way out there to let your manic emerge and let it enjoy too, with no impact as a consequence. As Liquor bottles display “Enjoy responsibly”, I was more determined than ever before to be held accountable for every action of mine in pursuit of earthly happiness. NH45 was doing its bit in protecting the damaged lower suspension arm but, a more frustrating and challenging endeavor was in the making from none other than one of my most loved stretch of highways, the NH68.
NH68, the last remaining stretches of beautiful single lane highway, was at the verge of extinction to be transformed into a more people friendly 4 lane toll road. Construction activities were hectic and driving was equally dangerous. The car was crammed between the oncoming heavy vehicles and the piled up excavated mud. Precision was the norm and a small deviation could get the car air-borne under those circumstances. With every kilometer on the trip meter, the momentum began to fade and began to drive at a more relaxed pace to ensure I didn’t end up with a broken suspension arm in the middle of a cold Jan night over the unfriendly NH68 . On the other hand, this was also the most care-free drive as the distance covered to be was short; around 385km. Crossed familiar towns and villages with memories popping up and I was at the T-Junction on the outskirts of Athur, as dawn was still reluctant to show up. Winter mornings occur late and it was just 3:30 hours, forcing me to recline the driver’s seat and embark on a comfortable sleep, as mist drops settled over the roof at a rapid rate averting the need to switch on the air-con. Also I needed to get some good shots for this farewell posting and darkness didn’t allow me to proceed rather, forced me into a mesmerizing sleep by the side of the notorious NH68 as heavy trucks speeding by accelerated the heart beat at regular intervals before I went into trance ignoring the earthly chaos. Couple of hours flew by as I woke from dreams which took me back in time when I used to pass through this small town at frequent intervals in pursuit of nothing but, self-centered happiness. Dawn was nearing now and I needed to speed towards the base of Kolli hills before the magical lighting of pre dawn sky was lost to time. Entered the state highway connecting Athur with Rasipuram and as expected, it was brilliant exuding a smooth and curvy profile with sparse traffic and lots of trees on either side. As a matter of fact, Iam beginning to consider theses SHW’s as my last resort for fun after all NHW’s have been 4 laned. They include Dindugal-Pollachi, Dindugal-Kumily, Thopur-Sathyamangalam, and Perunthurai-Sathyamangalam to name a few and they have never let me down with their high speed traffic and dramatic curves.
Being inside the car, I couldn’t realize how the temperature outside had varied with distance. On the SHW my first stop was at Namagiripettai - a cold, fresh, and rejuvenating one. Namagiripettai could be considered as the entry point to Kolli hills when driving from Athur. I stopped by a small poorly lit tea shop and ordered a cup before starring at the faint outline of distant hills, desperately. With darkness still looming around, I was thinking how its goanna be at top and how good my photographic opportunities would be. When the lady at tea stall was paid for what she served, I began to move in the direction leading to a higher altitude. Temperature was surprisingly cold and I reached the next major village Bellakurichi, which is the main entry point to the Ghat section. From here on, after few KMS, the road gets narrow and windy with lots of twists and bends, 70 bends to be precise. Each one of them were dispatched with vengeance and a hard hand over the steering wheel until I reached a prominent view point offering a stupendous view of the plains below. It was cool and the breeze was flowing across the contours of my dehydrated face, refreshing it. Began the ascent few minutes later and when the sky was well lit by the Sun’s first light, I reached the first village over Kolli Hills - Semmedu. District administration collects an entry fee here for all vehicles and I shelled out my share to reach the next landmark – Solakkadu, the same place where I spent a couple of days with my now vapourised friend’s way back in June/2009. From here my photographic assignment was a good 6-8 Kms away in the form of Agaya Gangai falls; the state was which I wasn’t sure about right from my departure the previous night. The meaning of this entire Jaunt rested on its glorious post monsoon form, as I climbed my way up through the refrigerator kind of freshness with the lower arm waking up sleepy villages through its high decibel squeak. Life here was at an unbelievably relaxed pace and I envied the people making a breezy living at this isolated elevation and to be frank, they were living. You may ask what we are doing then and I’ll say we are fulfilling a responsibility at each stage of life only to face the next and then the next before we know it’s the end and that, we haven’t seen much apart from the monthly pay package and the plan to deviate them into savings and expenditures. I wouldn’t blame but, just think for a moment. I do agree we live for others but, also disagree we should live only for others.
As always with a state of confused argument between mind and heart, I reached that familiar entrance to the tucked away falls. I had done it before and seen it all; nevertheless, I was still slowed down by the massive labor this attempt would impart. Festive season kept visitors away from this already not much frequented hide out and added that much feared and undesirable spookiness to my solo descent. Reached the base of falls much quicker than during previous attempts and the forced unplanned drive yielded dividends like never before. She was in full glory and the secluded spot was completely isolated from the world above, both in ambience and prevailing weather. Wind was gusty and water was spraying in the direction it flowed as I had to run for cover every time it was towards me. I fear certain places with no convincing reason and the base of Agaya Gangai falls is one among them, for it’s surrounded with myths of curse liberating god men and non-existent devils. Struggled like never before to hold my composure against the gust and rapidly invading fear for getting the shots I came looking for. After an extremely cautious session and after I was satisfied with the images captured, ran towards the stairs that would take me up towards the safety of public presence. But only then I realized, in the prevailing chaos, I had overlooked the “military grade labor” the 1050 something stairs were about to make me go through. I was demoralized and the steep gradient pulled down my spirit as my eyes blackened out after an adamant non-stop climb, tad too much for my drained out body which had its last food intake 16 hours earlier. It was painful, and it seemed like my heart was about to give up. But there was a concession - the thought of being up there with some fine slices of pineapple chilled by altitude and cold bottled water, pushed me to climb up. It was this same thought that pushed me up way back in 2001 and now, this attempt was like a Deja-Vu. I began the ascent and was already panting like dog chased by a 50 strong crowd and it became tougher with successive sections as I got desperate with successive halts. It was only when I heard the distant sound of a faint music, belted out by the temple speaker; I regained confidence and sighed away. Climbing this stairway gives a whole new perspective to the concept of endurance. The climb thought me to hold together my positive attributes and reach the intended destination, though with shortfalls throughout the way.
The Jaunt was successful and I was grateful to nature for not letting me down, yet again. I was as relaxed as an average student after the board exams and drove towards a secluded spot I had marked during my previous visit in 2009. It lies on the way to Selur Gaspa wireless station, my assumed end of kolli hills, and its haunting effect is a product of isolation from civilization and the brute nature of wind. Desolation began to engulf and the place began to gain that much famed and hyped “spookiness”. Yes this place for sure haunts, but I would say that’s a sort of romantic, a search for something non-existent. Sat inside the car, with windows open, and kept looking at the violently swaying trees with wind howling through the branches. I drenched myself into a non-existent world searching for the unknown pleasure, a kind which human race had not known, but in vain. After few minutes of yielding to a non existent lust, it was time for that long solitary drive back home and I was surprised, how fast things were moving. I drove out last night with just my camera and a robust confidence that I could drive, without sleep and food, for the next 20 hours with no significant break and I was proceeding exactly per my instinct. Bid farewell to this lonely, less famous hill station and made a quick dash towards the exit Ghat road. Baleno was returning an unbelievable mileage and the fuel gauge pointer was exactly at the same point when I began the ascent. I planned the drive through Salem and Krishnagiri to avert the boredom of driving back through Ulundurpet again. Entered plains and the same landscape which provided fantastic shots 6 hours earlier was now an unrecognizable country side rendered ordinary by the mid day sun. Noon was adding warmth and I drove at a sleepy pace towards Krishnagiri with a hope the remaining fuel will take me there, which it did. Body was exuding its discomfort and it was a desperate slow drive towards Chennai through NH46 and NH4 as I was nearing the completion of my self assigned 20 hours car-confinement target. Reached home with the satisfaction of having completed my highest endurance test ever, though my body was like a crushed paper thrown into sewage. After a quick bath changed to body soothing soft cottons and as the night became darker, ensured the doors were locked and covered myself up completely, with my inner-self sitting out there and enjoying the unknown pleasure as I craved for some good sleep with fear keeping me glued to the bed. This place still manages to invade with its overwhelming effect, every time I return home after visiting it with a pre-determined exotic spookiness that never exists. A break now……
Phew, back to office and back to chaos, pursuits, tense moments, price negotiations, lead time analysis, planning engineering changes and all other interesting challenges an automotive Tier 1 has to offer. I had been with Visteon India for the past 4 years and it has taken me along with its admirable growth. My employment with Visteon as a program buyer opened the doors to new technologies, vendors across the world and more importantly, their culture and geography. This helped expand my contact boundary beyond borders and I feel like every country, as far as Brazil, is just hours away. Each culture is unique and each country is exclusive and they demand a massive amount of time and spend to explore and expose them. Unfortunately, this fast world doesn’t let anyone get anything easy and it’s been a sleepless struggle to indulge in my timeless passion of writing photo essays. I need time to travel, time to get my shots, time to write these paragraphs and time to plan these all in an environment which sees me wake at 4:30 hours, catch the shuttle bus at 6:00 hrs, start work at 7:15 hrs, swipe the biometric card at 16:45 hrs, return home at 18:00 hrs and fight fatigue and tension to enter into my seductive world of photo essays. My instinctive passion keeps me going with a smiling face and composed body but, there’s a threshold and when it breaks I rebel. Iam least worried even about my well wishers and pack up to a predetermined destination which doesn’t support a healthy human population, but a good number of god’s less seen, less admired creations. February 2011 was one such month and I decided to call it a day when an intercity Multi axle Volvo sped by, while on my way to yet another day at office. I’ve always preferred driving to secluded destinations incurring massive energy and budget to capture the beauty there and on its way but, damaging my body and the car in this process. A comfy night travel in a cold air conditioned environment, which I used to crave when my friends slept as I drove with a watery eye, was a long time dream and it was not until Volvo introduced its mighty 13.7 meters 9400 B9R I was convinced to attempt it. I was standing, on a reasonably cold February night, starring at the beautiful profile of B9R and restless; to feel how that massive 9000 cc diesel would thrust me forward with its 340 HP shove. It was the most powerful night I’ve ever slept through as waves of massive torque surged me forward and the impressive air brakes tickled my composed stomach. I was now cuddling inside the comfortable blanket and sleeping on the reclined seat of a B9R, the same bus which had kept me on the limits with its powerful headlamps and car challenging dynamics during previous jaunts in my car.
Two years have added to my age and too many things have passed the point of no return since my last visit to Mundanthurai buffer zone. The highways leading south were under massive resurrection then, prolonging travel times to unbearable proportions and now they were like the floor of a snow bowling parlor. Then Volvo’s B7R was the only comfort creature and now, it’s been replaced by its bigger and much better brother B9R which itself will see its replacement by the B12R soon. Two years back I drove alone and now, I was traveling alone in a bus just to enjoy a night of high speed sleep, which I just love and go through every day as my shuttle bus transports me to office. Travel times have reduced enormously, by 3 hours approximately, and they facilitate a quick overnight dash to places as far as the tip of Indian peninsula. With an aggressive plan on mind, I was traveling only with my camera and L’Oreal Hydra fresh which made this the lightest travel ever. What I was traveling in was a Chennai-Trivandrum intercity coach and people have loaded their heavy back packs in the dedicated luggage compartment and my bag less travel induced a feeling of ease and comfort. Multi axle provided a stable ride and I didn’t want to be waked up by the “Thirunelveli bus stand – please come out” announcement at 30 minutes past 4 AM. But the B9R did live up to its reputation and I couldn’t believe my “struggling against the light” eyes that the destination has turned up much quicker than expected. These kinds of speed and travel time were hitherto unknown, and I was eager to try my own timing when I drive to southern Tamil Nadu during the next Jaunt in my car. As I disembarked and walked slowly towards the city bus stand with a sleep greedy eye, the familiar muted growl accelerated the 18,000 Kgs beast to its intended destination. The thought, however, that this same beast on its return journey from Trivandrum the same day would pick me up at 22:00 hrs, 17.5 hrs later, injected a relieving feeling. The skies were still dark and I boarded a government operated Chennai-Papanasam “express” bus which had just reached, in pursuit of the buffer zone of Mundanthurai tiger reserve. How slow and backward the government is, In India, was illustrated by the fact that this bus had started @ Chennai a good 3 hours ahead of the B9R, which dropped me 30 minutes before the “express bus” entered Thirunelveli, the day before. They are not to be blamed, for the economy of people using government’s service wouldn’t afford a B9R, phew, early morning sermon… I’ll proceed.
The last time I visited Mundanthurai in 2009, I was driving alone and the hectic construction activities all along the national highway increased travel time and made me reach Thirunelveli hours after dawn. But it did help to understand this section of Western Ghats as I drove through the narrow road towards Papanasam, a religious town on the banks of Thamirabarani just few Kms away from its revered source. Now, I was sitting inside a dark bus and traveling at a pace peculiar to state owned services, as pre-dawn darkness blanketed the massive Ghats which served unforgettable views a couple of years earlier. I fell asleep again and with the confidence inspiring fact that, my stop was the destination of this corruption influenced transport service. As I stepped down at Papanasam, darkness was still looming around and the gushing Thamirabarani revived my enthusiasm as I walked towards the nearby tea stall. The moon was unusually large over the Ghats and I moved towards an extremely average Lodge for a short nap. The lodge owner’s face transitioned from suspicion to smile, as I narrated my affinity towards photography, and handed over the keys to an upstairs room. As I was pretending to have a good rest, Thamirabarani was disturbing with its peculiar music and I didn’t want to lie down anymore. Kept walking through the dark streets surrounding the main temple and the big moon was still lurking around, instilling a kind of nostalgic spookiness. Undesirable events that occurred in the past were being pulled out from their grave and I felt extremely unpleasant on their revival. Called out a Taxi and entered Mundanthurai as the first visitor of the day and signs of a retreating winter and progressing summer were everywhere. The streams which were overflowing with aggressiveness the last time were as weak as an impotent man and wanting Viagra to lift the spirits. I knew I was traveling at the wrong time, but didn’t expect the results to be this awful and decided to watch carefully for every opportunity to click. The boat landing area at Karayar which overflowed with tourists last time, was as desolate as a prohibited nuclear site and I was forced to take a boat paying 10 times the regular fee. It was already imminent there wouldn’t be much exotic indulgence for my camera, and I began to relax and absorb the geography of this wild baby.
On reaching the banks of the reserve, I persuaded my guide for a short walk into the core area along one of the rivers flowing in from Agathiyar Malai, a bio-diversity hot spot. It was the shortest jaunt into a reserve forest I had ever attempted and also the most frightening one for the path was extremely overgrown and inhabited by notorious insects. The photograph of a 9 foot King cobra, captured by my friend’s wife residing in Papanasam, only added to the already trembling exposed feet. Nevertheless, the Mundanthurai tiger reserve blew away my mind with its incomparable wilderness and spooky isolation. The predominant threats to human life in these tracts are the innumerable Snakes, the King in particular, and exotic insects which suck away life with pleasure. Snake density is illustrated by the fact that, the wild river I was walking along was named Pambanar (Snake River) by the locals and the Guide promised an “eyeball to eyeball confrontation” with a king should I walk this tract just after the SW monsoon. He had, in the past, and told it’s a curse to see such a thing for his body went in shivers for the next few weeks. Thrilled, I returned back to the lodge by noon and went into an “out of the world” sleep dreaming about that “once in a life time” opportunity to meet the King, eyeball to eyeball, and name that posting “In search of the King”. Woke up to an uneasy evening and made a quick exit to the nearby Bus stop, as my eyes were still looking into the eyes of a King in its dream and the loud horn of the “next bus to Thirunelveli” restored normality. Few hours later I was in town and couldn’t believe this trip had already ended and that, my beloved B9R was hauling its passengers to the state capital with the common goal of survival enhancement. But for me, it’s just a beginning and I was already at the height of desperation to have that entry permits signed by the Mundanthurai range DFO to let me walk towards Agathiyar Malai, the same place where Sage Agathiyar attained enlightenment, through the life threatening wilderness of Kalakad Mundanthurai Tiger reserve. A stare by the hissing king would be an added and desired bonus though and am not sure if Sage Agathiyar thought the same way too. There’s no doubt, if there’s one place in Western Ghats which has the potential to make you cry for life with a threat in the form of an “eyeball to eyeball” stare from the King, this is it….KMTR!!
Parameters -
Route-Chennai-Ulundurpet-Athur-Naamagiripettai-Belakurichi-Semmedu-Kolli hills (Kolli). Chennai-Tiruchi-Madurai-Thirunelveli-Ambasamudram-Papanasam-Karayar-Mundanthurai (KMTR).
Best time to Visit- Only between Nov-Jan (Kolli). July to Sep, when SW monsoon is at its erotic best and the chances are highest of coming face to face with the King or the Indian Tiger. Also, Banatheertham would be at its highest flow rate. Nov to Dec, if you want to see Karayar in full capacity and when Banatheertham falls is at its seducing best (KMTR).
Specialties – Refrigerator kind of freshness, perfect seclusion, idle place for that spooky night walks (Kolli). Very High concentration of Tigers, Leopards, King’s and Vipers. Mind blowing wilderness, out of civilization ambience, delicious Mangoes and pineapples. Trekking routes that would take you through rugged terrain interspersed with mighty reservoirs, magnificent waterfalls, pristine vegetation and teeming wildlife. Also, this is the only tiger reserve in India to receive significant rainfall from both NE and SW monsoons and consequently, remains wet for atleast 8 months in a year (KMTR).
What you should do – Climb down and up the Agaya Gangai falls without a halt, visit Selur Gaspa view point on a windy evening, try to drive alone for that “ there’s no one in this world feeling” (Kolli). Get the permit letters and trek extensively through Kalakad and Mundanthurai, try to approach Mundanthurai from west (Through Keeripara), stand your ground when “The King” stares into the eye, get a shot of the royal Bengal Tiger and the elusive leopard, stare at the numerous reservoirs from distant vantage points to let your mind relax and understand where you life is upto (KMTR).
Don’t forget – To get a perfect shot of Agaya Gangai falls in its full glory, that spooky night walk under swaying trees and taste your favorite drink on an open lawn after dark (Kolli). To wear an extremely tight outfit to repel insects and allergic plants, wear an industrial grade all terrain, all weather trek boots to protect your life and to trek through the dangerous terrain, this is a dangerous tract to relax and you need to be at the highest alert throughout your stay (KMTR).
