Seldom in life have events
created irreversible damage, infinite longings and impossible thoughts to flow
through the backyard of our brains as we keep ourselves held up within the busy
confines of “destiny”. The world, views
and perceptions have changed so much that very little of real beauty is left
intact, and to reach that real beauty massive distances need to be crossed over
with patience and strength to end up in the ends of the inhabitable portion of
this beautiful planet. When a faded heart, jailed in sustained pain resulting
from persistent and ruthless damage to the world it loved to see in the form
God intended to be, is released to such an opening of infinite and spiritual
beauty words are difficult to find as the ability to speak is curtailed by
conscience. So was this case of mine as I embarked on yet another search of
mesmerizing memoirs in the seductive month of September, into the land of gods,
where beauty is timeless and time is meaningless. We embarked on a lonely night
from near my old home; where I have the VW Jetta parked in utter quietness and
loneliness, to pursue a night of massively insane speeds and make up for the
lost time while reaching the fringes of Uttar Kannad in the NW frontier of
Karnataka by noon the day next. As I was on the way to meet Mr. God, he offered
a special privilege by enabling me to touch the magical figure of “Avg 100
Kmph” over a stretch of 200 Kms between Vellore and Bangalore. The speed I was able to carry into the
darkness ahead was baffling as I emerged on the other side of the Karnataka
border, confused and grinning. Reduced intensity of monsoon was evident as
far as Tumkur for the dawn was lacking the typical chillness unique to this
season, remaining dry and ordinary, while failing for the first time to instill
that rustic romance within me. Sometimes
God does take a break, when he does, he goes ruthless as even vast landscapes
are transformed that instill fear in people if the world has come near to a
potential catastrophe. Worried, saddened and depressed; I pursued my dream
of meeting Mr. God, whom I believed was hiding in the most remote parts of the
Ghat while leaving others to vaporize in heat and scarcity, in a district that
still had the potential to extract the blessings, no matter what. As I drove
with crying eyes that shed no tears, perceptions began to change once past
Shivanmoga as the “unique ambience” gradually began to show up in style. It’s been 3 years since I went past
Shivanmoga on the seductive NH206, a highway that tells stories like a baby
sitter and writes and stamps some romantic memoir deep inside your heart each
time you drive over it. She remained almost the same, almost the same mad
romantic stretch when I and Dave drove over her under pouring rains in my 8
year old Suzuki Baleno to climb over Western Ghats and emerge on the West
coast. Now with both Dave and Baleno having gone far away from my life, it was
more nostalgic as I was cruising with my new friend in the comfort of Jetta
over the rain ripped tarmac that snaked its way through thousands of hectares
of “ultra-green” paddy fields with intermittent sprinkle from the occasional
cloud flowing from the distant west. As we neared Sagar the fairytale drive was
about to conclude to give way to a seductive indulgence, in the month none other than the seductive September, a month when Mr.
God packs up and prepares to depart the Indian sub-continent while leaving her
instilled with beauty and bounty that were poured from heavens during the 3
preceding months.
Time in Malnad is magical
if you don’t have a watch to look at it, particularly so when the monsoon winds
are flowing over this mesmerizing region like a fairy from the sky. For the past 5 years I have been pulled
into this magic for a reason that couldn’t be identified with a justifiable
reason, as I continue my pursuits with the same levels of energy and enthusiasm
as I did the first time when my life seemed more happier, but less meaningful.
Life in Malnad is mesmerizing if you have no one to live with or live for; for
Malnad will entice you into her infinite beauty, force you into a seductive
isolation and overpower your wisdom to think about none, but; only her.
Half way into this atheistic isolation, I went with my new found friend through
a remote forest path for an evening walk when the rains were pouring
intermittently with lot more potential reserved for the impending nightfall. I
had always loved the evenings in Malnad for it’s the time for that traditional
hot coffee and mildly disturbing rain spray as you sit on the verandah and sip the
coffee, whilst its hot vapors flow over your cold and dry face creating the
catalyst for a romantic evening. Few
hours past sunset it’s more of a revelation to hold a can of insanely cold
beer, with rains now having been transformed into downpour, as thoughts and
vision fly in varying directions inducing a cocktail of ecstasy and nostalgia
that would be felt hard many days and many miles later, when life would be in
an entirely different plane. The plan for the day that went past was to
visit a remote waterfall that was extremely difficult to reach under pouring
rains even in imagination, but we tried, and; then gave up when all options
were exhausted. As my camera remained empty sans the romantic images of a
monsoon drenched Malnad, I was busy filling up my imagination, with cold beer
for company, and thinking how the day next would make up for the lost shots and
experiences. Yet another magic of Malnad
is that, which I learnt from years of wandering, as she closes one door; she would
open up two and you need to be prepared and courageous to run into them for a
world of fantasy. It’s with this learnt rule I went to bed that night, as
rains were relentless in their pursuit of giving the monsoon winds a fitting
farewell to the 2015 season that was fast approaching a scanty end. However bad
she lets you down, she comes to rescue at the most unexpected of moments when
you will be sitting distraught and disturbed without a hint of the treasure
like that at the end of a rainbow. The morning next was very ordinary and we
were gearing up for the romantic drive through nostalgic Malnad roads in
pursuit of God’s homestay, the mesmerizing Uttar Kannad, that lay in a heavenly
setting indescribable by words. Just
before we could do that, my friend’s compulsion to visit the mighty Jog falls,
which I deemed to be boring and dull at that moment, made up few of the most
beautiful moments of this long trip which otherwise could easily have been lost
to my ego. Nature is crazy, whilst man and his creations can never be; is what
I strongly learnt as we drove slowly through the lonely and dark Ghat road that
laid the prescription right before me for an hour of romance, nostalgia,
ecstasy and an arousal free from any form of aphrodisiac. How many ever times,
how many ever people, how many ever portrayals and how many ever stories; you
go through it all, you hear it all, you see it all and you read it all; still,
she stuns you with her inherent power to amuse and flow joy all around.
Jog, of 2015 season (Photos 1 and 25), re-wrote my perception on the capability of nature as I
stood on national highway 206, at the junction to Sirsi, holding a cup of hot
tea before entering the road to the abode of Gods and I was amazed to think how
powerful nature could be in stunning a person if that was the first time. So
was the case with me as I pushed the car up into the Ghats in pursuit of the unseen
but that had been in existence for millions of years.
It’s a feel like when
feather graces past you, soft and soothing, as you follow its tender path with
a flawless smile blushed from deep within you. The road to Sirsi, as expected, was godly with traditional Malnad
ingredients spread all over and which were capable to eradicate a lifetime of
sins. I had wanted to drive through this amazing countryside for a longtime and
I couldn’t ask for a much better slot than this, as rains were relentless and
the memories from 4 years back fulfilling my ever searching “lost in the past” 8th
sense. This second entry into Sirsi helped me to make a critical analysis
of how life influences our present with its powerful past and in the process,
submerges the present under the past. Years
back, with minimal resources and less sophisticated equipment, the trips were
spiced up by beautiful companions who had been with me forever until pathways
began to emerge for each to grasp and follow, thus leaving each other on their
own. I and Deepak.B were the last remaining of that small group who were yet
to grasp a path, a path to travel, for the remaining of our long lives. Despite
all these intricacies life has to offer, it also takes us through few of the
most beautiful moments that are reserved for us, somewhere on this gorgeous
planet, and it’s when we break the chains loose and venture out, such moments
are stumbled upon rendering a mesmerizing memory. 4 years back I wrote – God’s
walk on the streets, when I entered Sirsi the first time; and I tell the same
now, in 2015, when the world has changed much while this part of the world
hasn’t at all. The specialty to Sirsi is
the nostalgia it offers, as does any town that lies on the crossroads, through
its romantic location at the junction that sends out beautiful state highways
in all directions to Western Ghats, the Arabian sea coast and the interior, mad
Malnad. After a quick lunch under deafening downpour, we hit the eye
wateringly romantic Sirsi-Kumta highway in pursuit of Unchalli water falls with
a route map written completely in Kannada script while we both not knowing a
single letter in that language. With
experience, desire and romance we made it to Unchalli (meaning Lion’s roar in
Kannada) and true to her name, she was outrageously angry that; she couldn’t be
viewed for a second as her thundering outflow of water painted the entire gorge
in mist (Photos 21 and 22). Few seductive moments, that were attempted by us to
get a view of her, later (Photos 14 and 26) it was time to move on and
painfully accept that one more year, or even more, need to be melted to see her
again in full glory. Nevertheless, what was about to come next was a
powerful pain killer that, Unchalli went into a distant memory in a matter of
hour or so. Our host @ Sirsi had mentioned this place on the route map and an
explanation was given that it’s a view point facing the west, a direction
that’s as romantic as a first date with a girl, particularly so during a
monsoon dusk. A narrow deviation from the village road led to this mystic parking spot for my Jetta (Photo 28), as we
raced against dusk to reach the top of a nearby hill. Certain times in life we vent out so powerfully, we cry so intensely,
we laugh so uncontrollably and they all have their accumulated inputs piled up
over a period of time. So how powerful nature could be as she made me freeze my
eye moment when we reached the top of that hill, as she made me to cry
intensely, as she made me to think of an end so powerfully and all of these
when I even didn’t know she existed. The best definition of her, for whom not
present there physically, would read as – If God had been in love and if he had
lost it, this is the place where he would be spending his lonely moments
nurturing those beautiful thoughts. My late arrival after sunset wasn’t
conducive to the beautiful colors that are associated with a monsoon, coastal
sunset, but; she did offer me one mystic
shot (Photo 20) that had the potential to leave my thoughts there forever and continue
living in some place on this planet thinking always about my extracted and
jailed conscience at the top of that lonely hill watching that beautiful sight
immortally. The night was even more special as I cuddled between two
worlds, the one that I just glimpsed, and the one that saw few of my happiest
moments 4 years back.
Yellapur is as nostalgic as
Sirsi, only difference being it’s located on a faster highway that speeds its
way from interior Andhra Pradesh in search of a romantic exit at the stimulating
coastal town of Ankola facing the Arabian Sea. Those speeding on this beautiful
highway, either way, wouldn’t be aware that Yellapur is a lesser known exit to
few of the most beautiful waterfalls in Karnataka, with Magod and Sathodi being
the most famous duo. There is another
special waterfall near to Yellapur and I wouldn’t reveal the name here, for she’s
so mystic and difficult to reach that if I do see here sometime in my life; it
will be then when I’ll reveal her name on my blog. We started on a mildly drenched
morning from Sirsi, as I did way back in 2011, in pursuit of the famous duo and
this time around we managed to add more to the list, the secretive Shivaganga
falls hidden deep inside the divinely rainforests of Uttar Kannad. The journey
to Shivaganga was similar to the one that need to be incurred for reaching
Sathodi, the toughest amongst the lot in North Western Karnataka, with only
loneliness, wilderness, uncertainty, spooky sounds, secrecy and snakes for
company. But like most of the times in my life, I was just away from ecstasy as
the now absent plundering rains could have made our ride a life time memory
through those amazing forest tracts. Eventually
we made it to the falls, actually a distant elevated platform from where we
could view the thundering 74m high Shivaganga roaring its way past few of the
pristine rainforests on this planet (Photos 7 and 29) in the form of river Sonda.
She had divinity flowing around her and there did exit a pathway through the
forests below to reach her base, which was possible after the monsoons though. There was absolute silence and loneliness
here that we could overhear the conversations of God, apart from the
distant rumble of Shivaganga, as we geared up for the long, bone cracking drive
to the backwaters of Kodasalli dam on the mighty river Kali where life would
seem as to be at the ends of the world. Past Yellapur, towards Hubli, there is
a diversion on the left that traverses
through few of the most remote locations with immense scale of inherent thrill
and romance that when travelling through it thoughts of a pristine, lonely
planet begin to isolate the tired body from disturbing the eager mind. As
we closed in on Sathodi the
backwaters of Kodasalli dam emerged on the right side adding more fuel to the
nostalgic thoughts flowing around us, though the feel wasn’t as exotic as it
used to be way back in 2011. The pathway to this stubborn waterfall (Photos 8 and 27) was reduced from being wild
and dark to a more relaxed concrete walkway, thanks to district administration’s
efforts to make this place more tourist friendly, but; I was disappointed and disturbed
to see this development that had mitigated the wilderness of this place. Now
the only respite for Sathodi to regain its exotic ambience was the long wait
until 2016 monsoon, when she would completely transform and blow away any kind
of human intervention. With a hint of disappointment, we started the back breaking drive to Yellapur and further to witness a
caged tiger that was captured by God and put to duty on order.
Surprisingly; the access to this caged tiger (or the fabulous Magod waterfall)
is smooth and soothing to eyes as the quaint country road winds its way through
splendid forests until it hits the forest gates that open up to the view point
which offers a stunning sight of the tiger trying to escape the orders of God
himself. I do not know why, but; ever
since I met her the first time I was tempted to call her a tiger for she
bounced and roared through the gorge that was cut by her through the millennia
(Photos 4, 19 and 31). Though not with the furious character as during the
peak of monsoons she still was beautiful and enhanced the meaning of this long
jaunt to NW Karnataka, a place which I strongly deem to be the abode of Gods.
As I was driving back to Sirsi after a day of splendid waterfall sightings it
was the time to reckon that, despite the poor show by SW monsoon this year,
Malnad; to an extent, has managed to escape the wrath of a potential drought
and continued to induce love within me. I
met her the first time in 2010 when my life had passed 29 Septembers…and now
when I was past the 34th September it was a revelation to
infer I had spent a significant portion of my time and thoughts on this region
alone as 5 Septembers have went past in-between. My life may further witness 50
more Septembers, but I believe the September of 2015 will be special for it
seduced me like never before with sights that rewrote my ability to keep loving
this region…the monsoon was disappointing though.
