Mundaje; nestled in
the laps of Western Ghats and graced by the delightful Netravathi river, stole
my heart a year back with her secluded presence, amazing waterfalls and wild
forests. The first trip in 2013 was more of a relaxed laze around aimed at
understanding the geography of this seducing village with 3 of my childhood
friends. After that first visit I came
back home with one mission in mind –To conquer the mighty Bandaje Arbi falls
during the peak of monsoons. When I write this blog now, I could not
believe Iam already past that time frame with lots of friends and events
gracing the busy life. The beginning of
2014 was exotic as me and Dave settled quietly in the dense forests of Agumbe
enjoying the cold of December within the confines of this wild village. It
was a nostalgic, peaceful step over into 2014 as I also internally moved to a
new office location that bought me very close to my home and in the event; offered
more time for sleep and personal indulgence. However; 2014 began with an
extremely doubtful note on the Jaunt front as more of my friends and even me;
began to get serious about life, age, commitments and parents. I never knew what this year would be like
and if I would be able to enjoy that annual ritual of God in the Western Ghats
with rains and mist enhancing the love and patience inside me. It has been
5 years since I fell in love with SW monsoon, and it was after the 2012 season
that one of the worst kick/off to this annual ritual occurred this year. The
monsoon winds never seemed to hit the west coast of Indian Peninsula and the
entire June was written off as 90% deficient across a vast majority of the
country leading to revised GDP estimates and contingency plans by the national
disaster response force. The impact was
so severe that even the traditional heavy weights like coastal Kerala and
Karnataka received “only” mediocre showers during the month of June and this
led to serious implications in terms of “everything” across the entire country.
Unlike in 2012, I wasn’t bothered much about this unusual dryness in the month
of June, rather; I was chalking out a plan quietly with my friend Dave to attempt
a trek to Bandaje Arbi that stole my heart a year back. There could be 90% deficiency across the
country, but still; there are few places where nature is so untouched, where
god is so kind, where people are so blessed, that; their annual ritual go along
as “normal”. Mundaje is one such Village and she was being battered by the
rains like during the peak of the monsoons as even the entire country was
trying to find a way to quench the thirst of a billion people. And what
else could I ask for; as I had a sudden accomplice joining me and Dave for this
wild trek into the Ghats and it was none other than my optimistic friend from
the days of my class 6. It was Jay, who
was on his biennial visit to India and I was quick enough to invite him for 2
days of drenched memoirs across the Ghats. Jay was the only remaining friend
from the archives of my school days with whom I had never attempted a Jaunt,
and with him joining for this weekend adventure completed the circle and closed
the doors to my childhood travel wish lists. With all boxes checked, we
kicked off the long drive to Mundaje on a hot, wet and humid June night with 3
glasses of grape juice quenching the heat and relaxing the agitated mind.
NH4 is one among
the many highways in India in its transition phases from the traditional
traffic infested 4 lane to a super smooth, super-fast 6 lane expressway. The first 100 Kms out of Chennai is in deep
mess and I hope NHAI soon restores the normality facilitating a stress free
exit and entry. Once past this it’s a super smooth night with moonlight
inducing that erotic sleep which I always have loved to fight against. We
had a relaxed plan for the weekend, nevertheless; the drive was hectic to
ensure we emerged out of darkness past the Neelamangala exit beyond the
extended city limits of Bangalore. Failure of monsoon to arrive on time was
imminent with the traditional cloudy sky and drizzle spray conspicuously absent
along the (highway) NH 48 through our entire drive. We hit Hassan on time and
pulled past this nostalgic town towards the distant hills where our hopes lay,
hopes of meeting the mighty monsoon hidden behind the Ghats and shy to get past
them towards the interior lands of the peninsula. Past Hassan it’s a beautiful
transition into one of the most relaxed landscapes, for me nostalgic too, as
the countryside slowly absorbs you into its lazing confines. Past Belur the road goes straight into
Chikmagalur where few of the most blessed people on this planet live around
inhaling fresh air, bathing in mineral water, drinking heavenly coffee and
moving in Range Rovers, while we; were bound to cut into the left that would
transport us to a place that was better than Chikmagalur. With thoughts
from 2013, we entered the Charmadi Ghat section and were instantaneously surrounded
by mist, drizzle, fast moving clouds, drop in temperature and that special
ambience which makes every other expensive indulgence back in the city
worthless. We were now just a couple of
hours away from Mundaje, in theory, but the progress was made painfully slow by
the gorgeous Charmadi as we spent relatively larger amounts of time admiring
the rare offerings of pristine nature that makes the Western Ghats feel so
close to heaven. Intensity in rain, like an automated program, increased
with every KM covered towards Mundaje and this only made me feel more concerned
than happy for our attempt to conquer Bandaje was gradually turning out to be a
?. When we entered this quaint village, close to noon, rain was thrashing and
the SW monsoon was in its elements, while elsewhere it wasn’t to be seen,
confirming my fear of losing to Bandaje at a very premature stage itself. Nevertheless; it was the beginning of yet
another season, yet another year, yet another collection of stories from my own
god gifted warehouse of romance, beauty, nostalgia and philosophy – The
Immortal Western Ghats, as I said Hello to Mr. Sunil, the second time ever in
my life, while he guided us into the now very familiar Riviera homestay to lock
myself up and keep away the worldly chaos, following close on my heels, for the
next couple of days. Just before that, we were treated with hot cups of
pure coffee with old world chairs for seating and a view that contained intense
downpour, infinite spread of green, cuddling cat and a generous emptiness that
had the space for romance, beauty, nostalgia and philosophy. Good night…
When I opened my
tired eyes an hour past noon, it was pouring still as we had a warm bath before
romantically rushing through the garden to have that native lunch which was the
need of the hour. KA-21 N-3831 (Photo
13) was majestically awaiting our arrival to take us into the mind boggling
wilderness at the base of Kudremukh National Park in pursuit of Anadka
waterfalls that blew us away a year back, with her precise beauty tailored by
none other than Mr. God. The off road track to Anadka was more beautiful
and wild than in 2013, thanks to the heavy rains, that we stopped by this place
(Photo 1) to make us believe what we were passing through. Passing through this off-road track is a special experience as it
stuffs you with its profound wilderness and seclusion as distant hills, gushing
streams, occasional native people, intermittent rains, random snake crossings,
muted growls and blinding clouds all come together to create a cocktail more
exotic than in a Mediterranean resort. After 30 minutes of rumble and
tumble we hit the “Last house” on this trail, the last glimpse of human
settlement where we geared ourselves up for that thrilling hike to Anadka. Dave and Jay were in playful mood (Photo 5)
while the rains began to impose their presence again as is the case always in
the monsoon lands of India, they never seem to die and they never seem to end;
until Mr. God calls it a day. 8 months seem to be nothing as I pierced through
the dense vegetation with my powerful Gumboots averting the hastened attempts
of heat seeking leeches to taste my warm blood. We reached Anadka in no time
and she only got more beautiful when the rains were in their romantic best, she was
now more precise and busty gushing out of the Kudremukh National Park on her
way to join the Netravathi River. Moments
of “eternity” were engraved at Anadka as she was all ours (Photos 2, 16, 17 and
29) with no other Human presence ensured in the surrounding perimeter.
After this heart melting moment, what our Friends from Mundaje had in store was
even more nostalgic as we bid goodbye to our hosts from that “Last House” as
the 4 wheel drive Mahindra & Mahindra Thar transported us to a romantic
spot on this rain drenched village. It
was the banks of the Netravathi River (Photos 3,25 and 27) and I just couldn’t
believe my eyes that were transmitting loads of insanely beautiful visuals to
my already spaceless brain. I had the opportunity of crossing this delicate
river through an indigenous manner the people of this sensitive ecological
region had devised (Photos 9 and 19) and it was nothing less than putting your
own life at the mercy of slender bamboo sticks that were dipped few Cm’s
below the water as you cross the gushing river with no guarantee of what would
happen next. I bet; this was purely a matter of luck as people use this
indigenous method of river crossing, day over day, particularly during the monsoons.
As sun was going down, we exited the
confines of this natural wonder and hit the country tarmac to settle down at
Riviera for a night of unforgettable conversations that would go down our
memory lanes for years to come, particularly so when rains were pouring and
power sources were shut down rendering the entire region into an old world
darkness. As I went to bed that night I very well knew what I was about to
attempt the morning next was a pre-written failure, and if I was still willing
to go; it was only because of my inherent inquisitiveness to check what were
the combination of factors that would unite as a powerful fortress to make my
attempt seem a foolish one when the entire region was fearfully averting an
entry into where I was heading towards the morning next.
As we would prepare
for a combat, we were gearing ourselves up the morning next. I knew it will be a hard fight, I knew it
will be tough on the stamina, I knew it will be a nightmare, I knew it will be
disgusting at moments and still, I was wrapping the industrial grade tape
around the top of my Gumboots sealing the gap between it and my cargo pants.
So were my friends, but sans the fear that was running inside me for they never
would have visualized what conquering Bandaje during the monsoons would mean. Jay was straight from Chicago; Dave wasn’t
the kind of hardcore Malnad fan as I was and they both were heading into the drenched
tropical rainforests when they weren’t supposed to. Nevertheless; we three drove
towards the distant hills, as Bandaje played hide and seek, in pursuit of a hike that would expose the
inherent elements of a tropical rainforest during the peak of monsoons that had
the potential to make any nature lover to either fight hard and conquer or;
retreat back to the safety and comfort of where he came from. As the Thar
dropped us and disappeared into the forest tract, we crossed into the last Village over a man-made wooden bridge (Photos
6 and 18) before setting our steps into the wild forests of Bandaje. I had
trekked through the Jungles of Agumbe, Sirsi, Yellapur, Chikmagalur; all during
the peak of monsoons and each one of these treks are a story in themselves containing
mesmerizing memoirs of my struggles while through them. But still, for reasons
unknown, I had a strong fear to step into the Jungles of Bandaje during the
monsoons for that I have heard in the past what it means in reality. The fun in life, for me; is to get close to
undesirability, understand what makes them undesirable, align your mental
focus, and arise over them to reach where you wanted to. It could mean multiple
failures, but that isn’t the deal breaker, it’s just another vacation and few
hundred dollars but; what you learn is with which your experience is
strengthened by. Few hundred meters into the jungle tract and we were left
to run in fear as they were crawling all over us, from the feet to neck. I had fought multiple leeches in Agumbe
during the past 3 years while on many of my treks under pouring rains, but that wasn't the trap in Bandaje; it was all about the size, speed and numbers here.
They were so huge, so arrogant, so fast, so blood thirsty that even after
wearing our Gumboots, sealing their top with industrial grade tapes, drenching
the outer circumference of the boots with castor oil/ tobacco mixture, we were
still left to run fearing these elastic creatures. Adding to the fun were plump caterpillars falling of the vegetation
which we were cutting through and injection like stings from flies straight out
of an alien film. After an hour of egoistic struggle we called it a day and
retreated back to the village as fast possible to escape the onslaught we were
under. While I was sitting inside the hut of our guide and looking at
surrounding hills covered in vast expanse of green and romantic mist, it was
hard to believe that they would be housing few of the deadly creatures’ nature
had sustained to protect herself from the unwanted. As we bid goodbye to the natives and started back to Mundaje, the
wooden bridge completed this nostalgic story (Photo 30) with her beautiful
presence across the Bandaje stream, the starting point of which was called the
Bandaje Arbi falls and which we attempted to conquer a couple of hours back,
before failing miserably. As we waited for the Jeep to pick us back (Photos
8, 22 and 26), the rains were in their elements and the Bandaje Arbi stream
flowing below us (Photos 20 and 24) was a stark reminder of how wild things
could have been up there. When we reached Riviera homestay, it was already noon
and there seemed to be no let-up in the rains. After a heart melting lunch and
coffee, it was time to say goodbye and embark on the long drive back to Chennai
with loads of memories and nostalgia. I
departed Mundaje with a heavy heart for I couldn’t meet her the second time and
particularly when she would be the most beautiful, but also; I was extremely
happy as this only gave me another excuse to make a quick dash to this romantic
Village when I find the time again…and get Banged by Bandaje…
