MORPHING THROUGH MALNAD, JULY-2012

Morphing – seamless transition as they call is something we do in our everyday life without the slightest knowledge of doing it. We morph at every instance to survive and it goes unnoticed through the pains of daily life as we do the act of balance from birth to death. We morph when back home from office and do the same on the next day at work; we morph when meeting the boss and when meeting the friends; we morph when we sit with a girl friend and when we have a drink with our best friends; we morph when making love and we morph when convincing an adamant child; but, there’s some thought underlying the existence of every human known to them alone- they keep thinking about it, all the time, through their life to the grave. It’s never revealed or exposed but manifests itself through the most committed indulgence of a man which everyone thinks, as normal. And it’s with this commitment I embarked on yet another romantic Jaunt to my favorite geographical region in the entire Subcontinent of India to morph. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary transition but, an attempt to play god and morph into the shoes of the creator for a couple of days when nature was at its best. I wanted to forget who I was and what Iam supposed to do as a part of this life; I wanted to run as fast possible away from the humans who control me and the tasks entrusted to me; I wanted to go through a couple of days that will impact my thoughts 10 years down the lane; I wanted to sit near her and breathe and fuse; and I wanted to separate myself from anything trying to connect to me. And these were probably the reasons I was forced to travel 680/1440 Kms alone, on my own, thinking how my ability would be to Morph, to lose identification. The 2012 SW monsoon was already 45 days old when I embarked on this solitary drive to a place hidden in Western Ghats and, it was also a known fact that she didn’t fare well as during the previous 2 years. I began the drive with lots of speculation and lots of dreams, and the day next would help the former to shatter the later. The sun was going down in the west when I left office on a Friday evening and the cute wagon of my friend was doing its best in keeping me engaged. Prevailing conditions indicated a downpour was imminent and I was more than enthralled to understand, I would be soon driving under the seasonal rains. There were occasional thunders, constant sway of trees and the roads wore a deserted look adding to the perfect mind set up I was driving with. 340 Kms later I would be accompanied by David, the friend who has supported me through the past jaunts since 2010, and I was keen to reach Bangalore as early possible. The friendship between me and Dave dates back to 1999 and we never knew, then, that someday we would be sharing similar interests and in the process, would exceed our limitations to nurture it. 120 Kms into the drive rains began, and there was no let up as I made a halt for tasting my favorite food in the Islam dominated Ambur. Soon I was back on the highway, which was like a sheet of glass under pouring rain and as slippery as a layer of marbles. The lights falling on the ultra smooth highway were reflected as death and I drove with extreme caution to keep the promise with my parents, of coming back alive. Poor visibility ate away the stamina much sooner as I was struggling to keep the drive stable, and it was only the thought of Malnad that reinforced my concentration to reach Dave’s room ASAP. But never in my dreams was I shown, that this effort of mine would only be honored to the extent of 30%...as a poor SW monsoon was already carrying away a big share from the region that made me learn happiness isn’t what I was thinking, until I landed there the first time…2 years back…

I like to derive happiness from the smallest of events in life and would love to cherish every single minute passed by through in the daily life. Ever since I drove to the Silk Board Junction in Bangalore way back in 2010, it has become a romantic stop over during any of my west bound trips. Then there were couple of friends to wait in the pre dawn darkness for Mr. Dave to join us but now I was all alone, piercing my way through the seasonal rain on NH7 when it was 30 minutes past 12:00 AM. Silk board junction is the pick up point for Mr. Dave and I used to capitalize on this stop by refreshing the drowsy eyes, before embarking on the next section of the long west bound drive. This time around the wait at silk board junction was special than ever for it was the last time I would stop here as Mr. Dave ends his 7 year long relationship with Bosch, Bangalore; and returns back to his native, the sultry Chennai, in pursuit of a new career. Special moments in life seldom happen the way they are intended to be as I changed my mind and drove straight to Dave’s “budget” Penthouse, overlooking the nostalgic SBJ. It was still drizzling as I climbed the narrow stair case leading to Dave’s home and the next 60 minutes were spent browsing through his collection of photographs and the WWW. I had spoken with a mysterious woman at Eagle Eye resorts, Kadabagere, in western Chikmagalur confirming our arrival and had reserved a room that had a waterfall adjacent to the bed. Who wants luxury in Malnad? But I had no choice as this was the only available option and we shelled out quite a huge sum of money for this exclusive stay hidden inside a plantation. Few minutes of rest later, I hit the road to Hassan with Mr. Dave as he watched Bosch’s Multistoried building with certain rush, something inevitable and I could exactly feel what was going through his mind at that point of time…departures are painful…always. As we entered the NICE road, my most powerful sleeping pill, there was an unnoticed surprise and it was none other than its completion into a single stretch of 42 Km bliss. But what lay ahead changed my perceptions of fighting sleep in the most romantic way ever, as we entered the Bangalore-Mangalore National Highway under the dense cover of midnight darkness to reach Hassan, as early possible. I have never seen a road so desolate that I lost composure within few Kms of drive and sleep hit me like a dose of hundred valiums. Struggle transitioned to submission as I failed to recognize the peril and wandered at my will over the National Highway 48, the highway which gave me a glimpse of how romantic a single lane road could turn out to be when given the appropriate terrain and traffic, couple of years back. Identified a lonely, mildly lit tea shop in the middle of nowhere as we crossed it at three digit speeds and parked the car alongside the highway to walk back the 500 Mts or so under extremely romantic weather with hands stuffed inside the pockets. When I came back to the car, the sleep wasn’t gone and welcomed us with a big grin as we decided to face the challenge and push on. Further down the lane I don’t remember what happened or what passed by until a brightly lit coffee day appeared in the distant darkness as an oasis but, I suspected it to be a mirage. To our relief it was for real and we entered its cozy confines with a drowsy head and burnt out confidence to fall on the big bouncy couch to sleep arrogantly, and the price we paid were a couple of cappuccinos…

Memoirs were floating around the empty space of the big building that housed the most romantic coffee day hub I had ever been to along the various stretches of Indian high ways. The fact that only I and Mr. Dave were the midnight customers ensured the space was quiet and conducive to our walk back in time, a walk back to our 2010 Jaunt to Jog when we drove over this road the first time. That trip was an eye opener and paved the way to the creative world Iam living through now, a world sans pain, rush or anything that accelerates the heart beat. It was a milestone in my long walk of attaining perfection in presenting my travelogues to the outer world and cherishing the comments I receive as an acknowledgment, which, are priceless to me and the efforts I exhaust. Those who were part of that precious dream are gone now and the only remnant was Mr. Dave, who was sitting right in front of me and probably thinking what I was. As always, a short relaxed nap in the coffee day outlet scratched the sleep out of me and we hit NH 48 in pursuit of Hassan when there was just a couple of hours left for dawn. I was thinking about that mysterious woman whom I spoke with the day before for making the reservations and she seemed to be no ordinary to me, something existed around her. We hit Hassan when first rays from sun hit my eyes and as always, Hassan aroused me with its simple and humble lay-out. In the past, I have passed through Hassan once and stayed there over a night, both during different Jaunts, and on both occasions she didn’t fail to attract me towards her. It’s because she was engulfed well by the Monsoon on both those visits and this reiterated the power of rains in making the western section of Karnataka much beautiful, than it actually is worthy of. Filled in contingency fuel and embarked on the last stretch of our long, lonely drive in pursuit of secluded relaxation, up in the Ghats, which I knew wouldn’t be as erotic as it was during 2011 and, in 2010, the two years that redefined my thoughts on life. Chikmagalur is at just a stone’s throw distance from Hassan and our destination, Kadabagere, was another 50 Kms drive from there through mind boggling Malnad landscape and this fact was enough to arouse me as fast as during a first time tight, real hug. My eyes began to moisten and my heart, as that of a sinless saint as I slowed down my acceleration to build up the vigor to exhibit when I came face to face, with her. The road to Chikmagalur was, as always, nostalgic with its distant mountains studded with wind mills, vast hectares of unknown flower booms and ever expanding meadows bordered with nameless water bodies. It was a good playground for me and Mr. Dave to exploit the opportunities all along the way and this made me forgot the pain I was about to go through in an hour or so, when I would enter the road to Agumbe @ the entrance of Chikmagalur. I knew there was a road to my violent baby, Agumbe, from Chikmagalur but never knew it would be so beautiful, beautiful enough to win the Shimoga/Agumbe road; maybe, but not sure for there weren’t sufficient rains now to expose the real potential. Even without sufficient rains this road manifested the powerful potential of a Malnad countryside in making a man forgot him and run behind its beauty like a baby chasing its pet. I was wondering, as the distant Agumbe Ghats were violent with thunderstorm activity, how good a place this would have been, should the heavens have opened up in time. We reached Kadabagere in a lethargic manner and here, we were supposed to take the first right opposite the town Church, a blessing in disguise, to compensate for the loss we had incurred all along the way…

The last few Kms, chalked out through multiple phone messages from the Mystery woman and though just 10 Kms, blew me away with the traditional eye moistening kind of Malnad ambience. With this stretch begins the southern border of Bhadra Tiger reserve and the opportunity of driving through it under a “Sudden downpour” invoked a feeling of luck and lust. Though the absence of “Normal” levels of rain was prominent, this place still held to it the potential to mesmerize. We drove past the forest department’s check post into an area that was hushed and isolated from the outer world, and for that matter even the well preserved Chikmagalur. There was immediate termination of prevailing disturbances once inside the confines of Bhadra and the mild rain added to the awesome landscape. Vegetation was so pristine that even the road turned green when drenched by rain, reflecting the flora around and incrementing the mood I was in. Rain was showing mercy now and she was pouring with no let up as we, very slowly, drove our way through “not more than couple of meters wide” forest road snuggled between plantations and intermittent forests. The Mystery woman’s multiple phone messages were our only guide to reach Eagle Eye resorts (EER), the most secluded stay I had ever been to. Like every other previous trip drives, this one concluded in a stylish way as we ascended our way through a narrow plantation service road filled in with mud and gravel. The first sight of EER was something much different than what my perception was telling all along the way from Madras – I was thinking it to be a small cozy family run hang out with very few people gracing its premises but, in reality, it was indeed a very huge facility for the kind of location it was built and there was a pretty robust presence of weekend tourists. And the biggest surprise was that, along with our Mystery woman there were “only” predominantly other women running this vast property while it legal owner rested himself somewhere else in the nearby Ghats. The view from the reception was mind boggling, to be honest, this was the most romantic reception lobby I had ever sat in my entire life. Just few meters from the lobby was a huge drop into the valley ahead as the distant view of the massive rainforest spread and surrounding peaks added to that ‘My Kind of ambience” making me melt away into the view with the glass of welcome drink offered. The mystery woman I was thinking about indeed had a mysterious charm and I could predict something special about her, as we thanked for the drink and labored our way up the steep incline to our waterfall suit No.1. The room was massive, the biggest ever in any our jaunts and it was built with concrete and glass as the major ingredients. The waterfall wore a dry look as it would only be  switched on for a couple of hours and 30 minutes on request and for the kind of guys we were, it was only obvious we didn’t bother to care about as our history would tell the kind of falls we had stood before and shed tears in the past. After a quick lunch we ventured further north in the road that bought us to EER in pursuit of Muthodi, one of the three entrances to Bhadra tiger reserve as I felt the most remote kind of loneliness I had ever been through when we drove along pristine tropical vegetation with no human settlements to disturb the tranquility. Sleep overwhelmed as Mr. Dave made a note of peculiar junctions which we would be driving back through under the cover of eye blinding Malnad Darkness and if possible, a horrific downpour when there wouldn’t be a single human to ask directions for. It was a drive that upturned my visualization of a remote Malnad tucked away from civilization and, untouched by humans…

When we reached Muthodi I was flabbergasted to see a dozen men and couple of woman (gorgeous) clad in combat grade clothing complete with military grade boots assembled near the control office. Initial impressions were they all belonged to the Wildlife institute of India and were having a seminar from the range officer before embarking on a trek into the Bhadra tiger reserve. Our casual dressing made us embarrassed to stand besides them and I was wondering what on earth they were doing in this remote reserve, not much frequented by tourists. We inquired with the officer at control room to offer a Jeep for a drive into the reserve, which was instantaneously turned down as I was wondering and looking with jealous at that group of 12+2 when they geared up to get into the reserve in three 4 wheel drive jeeps. Luck came running our way when we were shown mercy and the range officer agreed to include us in that group of 14, as me and Mr. Dave occupied comfortably the seat near the rear end of the soft top 4 wheel drive. All the three jeeps ventured into Bhadra, after the well ambushed gate was opened, and there was a halt to discuss the strategy per which, each of the three jeeps were to take a different route to increase the luck factor of sighting a wild animal. As we parted ways, I had an introduction with my Jeep mates whom, to my surprise, were working in different MNC’s based in Bangalore and were part of a conservation body working on the protection of Wild Life of Karnataka. It was heartening to see such kind of interested people from diverse backgrounds in a world, where weekends are spent in posh pubs. Gradually I elevated myself at the rear of the 4 wheel drive to stand up and look over the soft top for any movements in distance and in the surrounding foliage. It was extremely tough to keep my balance as the Jeep rattled its way through slush and knee deep water at certain sectors, with big forest flies keeping me annoyed. I had been on expeditions in Top Slip (Anaimalai tiger reserve), Moyar (Mudumalai Tiger reserve), Muthunga (Wayanad) and KMTR (Kalakkad Mundanthurai Tiger reserve) in the past but still, the ambience in Bhadra, a tropical moist deciduous forest, during the SW monsoons cast a magical spell on me. The distant noise of roaring wild stream, brilliant vegetation in drenched green, leeches rapidly making their way up once on foot, startled herbivores, pungent smell of nearby elephant herd and that unexplainable mystery of being inside a tropical forest under monsoon rains more than completed the satisfaction of driving all our way from Madras to Malnad. The distant sight of the brilliantly green Kudremukh peak added that “hard to forgot memoir” to this wonderful drive into one of the most pristine regions in Western Ghats. An hour later we reached a remote corner of the reserve where there was established an Anti-Poaching camp and occupied by few rangers to keep a check on unauthorized human movements. It was a dream location – a neatly laid out cottage with minimal facilities and dense vegetation in all directions, as far the eyes can see. Me and Mr. Dave came out after couple of hours of “leaving the world” and thanked the team for letting us to accompany them into one of the youngest Tiger reserves of India. But what lay ahead made me forget the couple of hours that went by, the mind disturbing night drive under mild drizzle through dangerously narrow road with no human settlement for the next 25 Kms. The sleep was completely gone now and I drove with pure love through the tear inducing Malnad countryside, as the memoirs from Bhadra kept the drive on the edge of nostalgia. When we reached EER, the entire crowd was partying with amplifier belting down fabulous Hindi and Kannada numbers and I was completely broken upon seeing this. Anyone coming to this kind of hidden location looks for tranquility, and I completely couldn’t digest the commercial intentions of the EER’s unknown and unseen owner. Hope my serious comments on the visitor’s book conveys a hint of concern to whom ever who reads that, after Iam gone from there. Thereafter it was a quiet night for me and Mr. Dave as we talked over our dinner and fell asleep very fast for that much needed rejuvenation to reset of our mind set-up and body to tackle the demanding days ahead. The morning next saw our rapid departure from this hidden haven as I Bid goodbye to that Mystery Woman, for the last time, and I was sure she had a past of certain magnitude. The distant rain clouds hovering around the Agumbe Ghats, reluctant to pour, inflicted severe pain to my heart as I write off this travelogue murmuring “When she’s dry, I cry; and when she’s wet, I sweat”. Malnad is like any other region, complete with Land, water and air but, to understand why she altered my life for ever, a visit under pouring rains is a must which I’ll be attempting in a couple of weeks. When I dropped Mr. Dave @ the SBJ, Bangalore, and embarked on the 340 Kms ahead all alone, the rains poured deliberately during the entire 5 hour drive igniting my lust…God is a master player…For he used all his power to prevent my attempt of playing God…and I laughed inherently over my unreasonable effort of Morphing the creator…

Parameters

Route – Chennai-Vellore-Hosur-Bangalore-Hassan-Chikmagalur-Aldoor-Kadabagere-Bhadra

Best time to Visit – As always, July-Sep for a nature lover, Oct-Jan for a casual tourist.

Specialties – Coffee, Honey & Jack fruits, Tranquility, Hebbe and Kalhatti falls (Which we didn’t bother to visit due to paucity of rains), desolate hill roads, distant view of the Kudremukh peak and the distant Agumbe Ghats.

What you should do – A drive into Bhadra, a trek to Kudremukh peak, a hike to Hebbe and Kalhatti falls (which we did in 2010 under pouring rains and now a longing memoir), a stay in a good resort for the night time indulgence, a walk through the plantations and just an early morning coffee watching the mist slowly disintegrate.

Don’t forget – To visit at the right time, to book your stay a good couple of weeks ahead of your travel, a drive under pouring rains through unknown plantation roads, good camera and a Gumboot if possible to protect against the elements and the terrain.