Two
years, two failed attempts and a 5.5 hour held up in the Western Ghats traffic
Jam latter Iam able to write this blog to express the emotions attached with
what may seem to be an ordinary weekend getaway, while, it actually wasn’t. There are moments in life when we wait for
years, plan for endless hours, spend enormous energy to fuel our pursuit, toil
hard to realize the plan and at the end, sometimes; we do feel if it was all
worthy enough? This is exactly what I felt when I reached a Western Ghats peak,
shadowing the mighty Kudremukh ranges, during the first couple of days of 2015
to meet the mighty Bandaje Arbi falls from right where she rumbled hundreds of
feet down. But I wouldn’t complain
for it wasn’t the right season to be there, atleast for someone like me; who’s
used to darkness, heavy rains and romance as the Key elements in photography.
It all began way back in 2013 with a phone call to Santhosh Kumar Phadke
inquiring about a possible hike to Bandaje in the month of July, which he
instantly turned down. Ever since that declination; my heart had always toiled
hard to meet her when the rains were ravaging the Ghats, when this region was
engulfed by the magical clouds from the distant Arabian sea and when this
region was quiet, stunningly gorgeous and anxious of the monsoon onslaught. I tried in 2013 and didn’t even progress over
a meter, I tried again in 2014 and went up the hills briefly only to come
running back and in 2015, consequent of previous failures; I made an early attempt
during the cold and dry season to make myself aware of the terrain and
challenges to be faced should I attempt to conquer this beauty during the peak
of monsoons. Kanthi and I started on a sunny Jan morning from Chennai in
the Jetta DSG in pursuit of a Village, my second home indeed, 660 Kms away
hiding behind the Western Ghats and bearing the brunt of SW monsoon every year
to get more beautiful than she ever was. We
never realize how certain people and certain places become so close to our
heart – we were never related to them in our entire lives, we were never born
there, still; destiny crosses the paths to let the fun happen and watch. This
is exactly what happened 2 years back when I met Santhosh and consequently his
village, The Majestic Mundaje. Ever since then; it has been an annual ritual to
drive to this tiny, romantic and nostalgic village to feel just one thing –
that feeling which never could be understood, but only felt. This was the
first time ever I was driving to Western Ghats in daylight and I just hated to
be under the harsh sun for the next 12 hours or so, without knowing what fate
had in store for us just when this drive would conclude 12 hours and 600 Kms
later. The day drive was terrifically
annoying as I never felt for a moment I was enjoying a long drive in pursuit of
my love, and the only respite that awaited us was the ever energetic and
infinitely enthusiastic Santhosh, 340 Kms away on the NICE road, looking out
for the DRL’s of the black Jetta DSG…
Once
into the Bangalore-Hassan National Highway, with Santhosh for company in the
rear seat, it was a fiery drive against the slowly setting sun in the distant
west while briefly crossing the 200 KMPH twice. At these speeds, against the blinding sun, it was like driving into the
unknown with only the constantly dying bugs and their splashing body fluids
prompting me to remember I needed to slow sown. Unable to do so, I handed the
Jetta DSG over to Santhosh for his eagerly awaited test drive until Hassan with
me cursing the setting sun and closing the burnt eyes in the adjacent seat.
Hassan, like few of my rare friends, has always instilled in me certain
nostalgia without one good reason and I get emotive as I near her as I would
when getting close to my better half. Those old world streets, with average
traffic occupying the available space, winding through quiet buildings have
always allowed me to enjoy my relaxed state of mind as it begins to think about
the amazing landscapes beyond Hassan. Past Hassan it was beginning to get dark
as the distant winter west glowed with sun’s fighting, last traces of light
which I looked into with certain ego and arrogance. It was my time now, the
romantic darkness, and the thought that
I still had 100+ Kms to reach Mundaje, with the amazing Charmadi Ghat section
in-between, was like a spill of 60 ml Smirn-off into a glass of emptiness. The
drive through the quiet, solitary villages tucked into well spread exotic vegetation
evoked a feeling of “I want no one, I want nothing” as it had in the past,
every time, when I had driven through the romantic countryside of Malnad. As I
got lost into this addictive feeling, I forgot the wonderful thought of my stay
in one of these exotic villages for the next 2 days and as a matter of fact;
this thought was about to be buried deep into frustration and fatigue with the
Jetta DSG fighting for its stability around the corners of Charmadi Ghat only to
head straight into a 5.5 hour traffic Jam that would retain us in the Charmadi
hills late into the early morning of next day that was reserved for the hike to
Mighty Bandaje Arbi. Bandaje Arbi evaded me with her natural might during
the past 2 years, while now; she influenced man made factors to stop me even at
a farther distance and thought, I would convince my desperation to accept this
as a coincidence and settle the day next in the comfort of Riviera homestay
with a beer or so. I was in no mood to give up this time though as I kept my
eyes wide open to keep the fatigue away, occasionally
getting out of the car and throwing a flying kiss at the distant moon; while
standing amidst hundreds of cars, trucks and state owned buses over the
romantic Charmadi Ghat section which was being raped through the entire night
by mankind’s ruthless planning owes. The patience eventually paid off as the
Jetta DSG was now past the horrendous traffic pile up, breathing chunks of
fresh mountain air, and throwing her high intensity Xenon beam over the
deserted village road of Mundaje the first time ever. Good evening Mr. Sunil,
we are here…for an early morning dinner. We had 3 hours now, between our
closure of a 16 hour drive and the beginning of a 12 hour trek, and this again stressed
my thoughts about how tough it has been to meet Ms. Bandaje Arbi…Is she worth
that much?
The
Mahindra & Mahindra Thar was carrying
all of us (Photo 7) with no sign of power loss or terrain induced struggle,
through the same, romantic, solitary village vistas which I had driven through
during the past couple of monsoon seasons in almost near loneliness. The difference in ambience was as stark as
between a wife (monsoon) and a girlfriend (winter), the first one inducing
emotions and love while the later inducing eagerness and longings. I had always
wanted to meet Bandaje with emotions and love but she was too strong to let me
meet her that way, rather; she had managed to keep me on my toes for the past
couple of years with loads of eagerness and longings. Mundaje in itself was
a killer with its inherent Malnad ambience, whereas; the borders of this
beautiful village where the wild forests begin to take over could overdo your
sensations and push to the brim of ecstasy. I had witnessed this ecstasy during the monsoons of 2014 with 2 of my
best friends when the immediate world around this region was tightly tucked
away into fragile homes, dotting the forest edges, trying to escape the wrath
of unforgiving rains. As I, now, jumped down from the Thar, the absence of that
“remarkable sensation” associated with a monsoon drenched trek was instantly
felt with craving pain and a crying heart. This was the first time ever in
my life I was about to begin a trek into a rainforest when there weren’t rains,
when there weren’t emotions and when there weren’t the gods around, as I slowly
retraced the path that saw me make the biggest attempt against monsoon in
pursuit of Bandaje 6 months back. With almost a dozen friends for company now,
I forgot to indulge in my usual “thoughts of the lonely world”, as I always,
during any of the treks into these
remarkable clothing of forests worn by the mighty Western Ghats since the
ancient geological times. The trek to Bandaje could be split into 3
comfortable sectors, all of them are extremely demanding on physique though, to
make this long and tough ascent up the Ghats seem relatively easy. The first
sector will retard progress with its potent combination of steep ascent and
slippery terrain, forcing you to fight the twin elements of gravity and traction
as within minutes the fresh energy and enthusiasm, with which this trek began,
are sucked out in unacceptable proportions. This probably stretches for an hour
and a half as a small, dried up stream cuts across the trek path and here; you
could salvage the lost energy with a good supply of fruits and water. The
second sector could be assumed to start immediately after this stream and now
the terrain is “little bit” less punishing, as the endless forest track carries you forward through the “dense”
shade thrown in by the massive canopy. This section also takes the trek
right across the magnificent Bandaje stream, the source of which is called
Bandaje Arbi falls and where we were headed to, and it was a revelation to
recognize how ferocious she would be when monsoon winds will be flowing through
these dense forests in 6 months from now. For some reasons unknown, once past
the Bandaje stream the forest seems to fall silent, all of a sudden, and the
ascent now becomes terribly painful on the fronts of patience and expectation. The narrow and hidden pathway winds its way
up the hill, unendingly, with no sign of break in the canopy cover, as we
continue our pursuit with diminishing energy and enthusiasm without the
slightest knowledge of how kind nature has been so far. Nature always does
its bit for the hasty humans, we never seem to recognize them though, and this
was apparent again as sector 2 was nearing its concluding phases and so with
it, the tender care of Mother Nature as she will be throwing us out into the
harsh wilderness to see her other face. As
I stepped into my self-defined sector 3 and in the process, out of the forest
canopy after two and a half endless hours there were only 2 thoughts that
prevailed anywhere inside my mortal body – “mind boggling elation” as the first sight of Bandaje romantically
unfolded right in front of my eyes
(Photo 11) along with an incentive of the beautiful sight of the
distant plains where I came from (Photo
12); the second one being a “mind
numbing emotion” as I lost myself to the thoughts of how life changing it could
have been should I had managed to reach here, where I was standing now, a good
6 months back when the rains were ravaging this region and when I didn’t invest
my efforts as seriously as now.
The large group we were
hiking ‘as’ quickly disintegrated into 2 when we reached the opening,
consequent of energy levels each were filled with. I and Kanthi joined the slower
one and we were just 4, as the remaining of our friends hiked up the hill like
expert trackers while we were searching for a pathway to catch hold onto and
continue the pursuit. Few meters out of
the canopy, as we climb up, a narrow pathway leads downhill with Bandaje
appearing straight across it (Photo 11) imparting an impression that we are on
the wrong one should we ascend. But it isn’t, as I learnt that the hard way
by meandering into the path leading downhill and bruising myself from the
dense, tall grasses that hid the route, and dangers. Just imagining myself standing here a good 6 months back, it was hair rising,
as even a thought about that sent me into an imaginary coma with twin senses of
achievement and elation prevailing predominantly. The landscape was massive
and sensational as we lost our ways and wandered across the parched hill slopes (Photo 4) in search of
our respite, a way out; which we managed to, after an hour of aimless walk around.
This section of the hike squeezes out the max from our body, as we look into
the now empty water bottles with the slightest of hopes to find a little more
while there isn’t even a trace of it inside. As I was resting under the stingy shade of a lone tree (Photo 5) and
looking into the distant Kudremukh ranges, the fanatic inside me kicked out the
weakness and tuned my stamina like a GT car fresh out of the pits. Though destroyed
significantly, I revamped my mental strength and began the long climb under the
merciless sun with three behind me and the rest, at an unknown distance in the
front. This unknown distance let me to venture at my will, as I shadowed a
wrong trail and ended up at the edge of a rocky outcrop to witness a view that
none in my entire group could claim they saw. It was none other than an almost full front view of the Bandaje Arbi
(Photo 2); falling relentlessly to feed the stream below as she would
significantly dry up in the impending summer months before being insanely recharged like a Spanish bull by the world’s
greatest weather phenomenon, the monsoon. With a good shot of Bandaje,
which I came in search of, endurance levels at that moment of time diluted my
willpower and induced a relaxing temptation to conclude the ascent right where I
was standing in absolute loneliness and staring at her. But something, that I never
could comprehend, rendered my laziness powerless and surged me through the
final portion of this nail biting ascent; as I finally could hear faint screams
from the unseen distance and those screams were the obvious outcome of an
elation that could only be ignited by the mighty Bandaje. The haste to be a part of that elation helped me overwhelm the natural obstacles
and enter the zone of ecstasy, a zone that brimmed with life, beauty and gods
and it was the final descent right to the crest of Bandaje Arbi falls. To
be honest, I never felt this close to perfect natural order as I submerged my
destroyed legs into the pure, cold and insanely sweet source water of Bandaje
to throw away the fatigue that I had carried all along and replace that with
loads of contentment. How hard it had been for me to reach here, how long it
had taken for me to reach here, how many friends in the past have accompanied
me to Mundaje and went back without making it up to here - it was indeed a
moment of realization that I felt proud to finally have conquered her. As I edged towards the crest of the falls
(Photo 14) and looked at the distant rocky outcrop from where I shot Bandaje,
it was yet another realization – realization of human power to conquer. An
hour or so later, it was time to pack up and leave Bandaje to be on her own
amidst the wilderness of Kudremukh ranges as I reluctantly joined my friends
for the long, never ending descent. The descent was more painful as we had to
fight for traction more dynamically and it
was past 18:00 hours when we hit the base village while the winter dusk had
long gone by pushing the Mundaje countryside into a thrilling darkness and stunning
silence. Though I wanted to sit under the soothing moon light, have few
sips of beer and discuss in depth about the day long hike up the hills with those
incredible friends from Mundaje, the recipe of 16 hours’ drive, a 3 hour sleep
and a 12 hour trek forced me to curl into my room as the winter chillness executed
its magic of recovering me from the incredible exhaustion. As I woke up the
morning next and prepared for the long drive back home the thought of me
climbing up the distant hills, when monsoon winds were romantically ravaging
this region with meters of rainfall; dominated and I departed with a heavy
heart, thinking hard, if that would ever happen in this birth. Bandaje was a beautiful dream, but; if only
I could have managed to reach her when gods were pouring it would have been a
life altering adventure and I will pursue her until my life gets altered,
forever…
