Getting lost is one thing;
getting lost at your will is in a different league though, further; getting
lost into a thrilling and pristine loneliness is a godly experience as the
world today is crushed to a peanut and mankind embarking on its ambitious
attempts to devour the next nearest planet. It’s amazing to think there are still “proper” places on this planet,
as God originally desired the world to be, that are relatively untouched and
Virgin with only an occasional intervention from “Man”, as they remain
“natural” most of the times. I knew a belt of area in the west of Indian
Peninsula that would seem to be the “Bar” of the Gods, if they did booze, and
where they could be attempted to be seen. It was exactly to here I was heading
to in my friend’s mini SUV, the Ford Ecosport, while the days awaiting us in
that reserved weekend were rendered exotic as we ventured into remote corners
of God’s play area enabled by the hefty ground clearance of this compact
crossover. After a night of hectic drive we hit dawn on the nostalgic and
secluded Tumkur-Honnavar National
Highway, a highway that has the potential to take your drive through phases; as
life would do in its various stages. It passes through semi-arid rain shadow
agricultural tracts, massive sunflower plantations, occasional hillocks,
“quick” villages, “sudden” forests, life ending sharp, abrupt and high speed
turns, cold and dry loneliness before ending up in style in Shimoga (Or
Shivanmoga). Past Shimoga, an amazing love story begins that could make you
beat Shahjahan while writing about your experiences of driving through this
amazing highway. I had written this love story way back in 2012 when I drove across this entire section of
Tumkur-Honnavar under pouring rains and pondering loneliness as I slowed down
countless times past Jog falls, after which the imposing Western Ghats make
this highway an out of the world experience, until I reached Honnavar on the
mesmerizing west coast to let Gods cross the roads. Ever since those times,
Gods have gradually curtailed the bounty these regions were blessed with and
this culminated in 2015, as the entire country, including Western Ghats, reeled
under a historical drought. Monsoon was a mad failure this year, one of the
worst in last 3 decades in India, and the impact
was heartily seen and felt by me as my friend drove through the “held in past”
countryside of Malnad that hid its erotic beauty behind the hitherto unseen
dryness during an August. Shimoga to Agumbe, though not as exotic as
Shimoga to Honnavar, was a getaway to heaven during the monsoons and it had
been so during the past 4 years ever since I began to visit this region.
Unbelievably, an August without rain in Malnad is a magic, as it would be a
magic too when rains were ravaging this region relentlessly for days, weeks and
sometimes; months. 90 minutes past Shimoga we hit Agumbe on a sunny noon to
head straight to a waterfall that had been evading my camera since 2011, though
the forest officials had closed the gates to the public. The road to Kudlu Theertha, from Someshwar, passes through remote
estates, then occasional paddy fields and finally, the legendary rain forests
as the loneliness turns from being thrilling to creepy. Ecosport did a good job
of keeping us in comfort over the battered forest road as after a long, 90
minute “car” trekking we hit the closed forest gates to conclude on our
debate if further advances could be made into the beautiful forest, spread like
a bloom, lying ahead and all over.
These places are
accessible, these are the places every “ordinary” man can go, see and indulge. The world’s contents are mostly like that,
and those which are not form the cluster of reserved elite locations only reachable
by few, who have the money or the Job behind, to push them there. But if
it’s accessible to all what’s the fun in finding myself standing there, among
the crowd, among the “ordinary” men and call it an amazing vacation? It’s
exactly where this question arises; the monsoon comes to my rescue by engulfing this region in a cocoon of
extraordinary bounty which simply adds beauty and seclusion in generous
proportions that there is a sudden spread of “disturbing” silence across the
length and breadth of Malnad. Those places which seemed accessible, which
seemed ordinary now bustle with “silence and fear” that; very few dare to
venture into them in search of one commonality – realization, realization of
own and inner cravings. This became undeniably evident as I crossed past the
closed forest gates and stood above the furious stream that had, in the past,
always prevented me from reaching this potentially most beautiful waterfall in
entire Western Ghats. Kudlu Theertha is
a shy waterfall (Photo 1) and nature has protected her well by putting up couple
of streams on the trek path that need to be crossed over to meet her deep
inside the forests. She falls from
immense height and the spooky place she fell over seemed to be nothing short of
God’s bath tub (Photo 13), as we spent mesmerizing minutes hastened by our urge
to get back to civilization before rains rendered our way out of this heaven inaccessible.
The trek back to the forest gate was relaxed as the “powerful” ambience of rain
forests entertained us with its infinite contents that held within the
potential to make us feel special and beyond ordinary. I had always wanted to see her in this kind of set-up as the sadness I
incurred over lack of rains this year quickly transformed into ecstasy, for it
was this reduction in intensity that enabled me to get close to her when she
was at her best and still accessible. Once safely past the stream it was a
long, grueling drive through the now darkened forest tract to reach Someshwar,
the gateway to Agumbe from the coastal side, where I would stop for few
breathtaking moments to watch the “weak but still romantic” monsoon winds dash
against that nostalgic Village perched up above in the magical and timeless
Agumbe Ghats. The feeling of lost was
more amplified while I was wandering along the streets of Someshwar than while
I was deep inside the remote forests an hour back, such was the intensity of the
sight I was blessed with as I soon became a nomad amongst the constant flow of
people and wondering at the impeccable beauty that even a lifeless monsoon was
able to script. As we ascended the drenched, darkened and blinded Agumbe
Ghat road to spend an “out of the norm” night, I knew well it wouldn’t be as
exotic and life changing as the nights would be in Agumbe after a monsoon dusk.
Monsoon was a killer during the preceding seasons, and was a one this year too;
but without the extraordinary contents she used to brim with and make me
content with a year full of romance, dreams and energy. The night was
pathetically poor in terms of ambience as I curled into the couch for a killer
sleep, with thoughts from 2011, 12, 13 and 14 gracing my dreams to make up the
loss I suffered in the day that went past. I was able to feel the gradual
reduction in the intensity of rains over the past years and this was
frightening to think about more in depth, as I put the burden on God and closed
my eyes tight…and I never knew to what I would open up them again the day next.
I was descending down the
Agumbe Ghat the morning next in pursuit of a place that was wild, spiritual, challenging
and nostalgic as the rains began to drench the region unexpectedly. At last the monsoon exhibited certain mercy
when I was departing with hard feelings from the land of nostalgia, the land of
rains and the land of romance for the last time in 2015 as I locked up my
beautiful collection of memories deep inside my heart to relish at a later
point in life when Agumbe could potentially be a distant dream “even” for me.
This journey was taking me to the next destination in Malnad which was no
ordinary place and would compare against Agumbe as an equal competitor in terms
of rains, rebels, spirituality, thrill and wilderness. Just past Someshwar we
took the diversion into a beautiful state highway that would keep us mesmerized
for the next 70+ Kms or so until we hit Kollur, the land of Mookambika. This
amazing single lane road connects Agumbe with Kollur in the most romantic way
possible and further extends upto Shimoga, while remaining consistent in its
usability and beauty throughout. As we were gradually nearing Kollur, thoughts
from 2011 sent a chill down my spine for I knew it wouldn’t be easy to conquer
the waterfall we were pursuing now during the monsoons. With confidence pumped
in from experience over the last 5 years, we hit Kollur at lunch time while the climate was hot, humid and wet;
unmistakable signs of a horrendous trekking experience. The forest office
was desolate and the officers were reluctant to let us enter the gates of
Mookambika wild life sanctuary, until they were convinced we both meant
business. With papers signed and fee paid, I and Ranjith hired an auto, leaving
behind the Ecosport near the forest office, to drop us at the forest gate where
we would gear up in Gumboots, castor oil and tobacco powder to fight the
dangerous elements inside the jungle. As
we sped past the divinely Mookambika temple, with the mesmerizing Kodachadri
peak in the distant and dreamy background, my legs were trembling in response
to the hike we were about to embark in absolute loneliness and uncertainty.
Once past the forest gate, I never had the confidence we will make it to the
base of Arasinagundi falls as the forest tract was littered with giant broken
trees making it difficult to get past. Nevertheless,
the forest path was amazingly transformed into an evergreen heaven (Photos 9,
21 and 22) masking the heat and humidity; but not the fear and difficulty. With
approximately 5-7 Kms one way, each fallen tree presented an opportunity to
waste precious day light and at one particular point, the path was so densely
blocked that we decided to call it a day. That particular point wasn’t only
physically blocked, but to both of us, it presented a stern warning to not
proceed any further with a spooky breeze oozing past us from nowhere. I
have had a life threatening experience of trekking here in 2011 when I got held
inside the jungle after dark, and it was an emotive story how I made it back to
the exit gate. Not willing to repeat the risk, we appreciated our decision and
made a casual walk back to the road while we were just 45 minutes into the
hike. As we neared the exit I threw one
final look at the sky (Photo 24) and even the divinely, bright sun was masked
by a dark and arrogant tree which seemed to me, at that point of time, a sign
of evil. Hard feelings pouring in, we embarked on a brief drive to our
eco-resort, the Simha Farms, for the overnight stay and for the trek the day
next as the sky became overcast
rendering the parked crossover (Photo 3) into a beautiful opportunity for
the camera. The drive continued…
As I drove through the
thrilling ambience of Kollur forests in the comfort of Ecosport, hectic
thoughts from 2011 were inducing a secret smile within me for during the 2011 edition both trek and the drive were ridiculously
tough due to haphazard planning and a state government in a state of disarray.
As life gets better down the lane, past difficult moments throw a brief visual
of satisfaction; as life gets worse down the lane, even those past horrible
moments throw a brief visual of craving. Life is funny and so was our
attempt to hike through Mookambika sanctuary during an August noon, as we sped
past the now familiar and nostalgic countryside vistas of Malnad in pursuit of
an evening that was destined to offer loads of relaxation. The distant view of
cloud clad Kodachadri, complimented by the setting sun, added to the charisma
of that magical evening as we bought couple of bottles of Budweiser from one of
the most beautiful bars set amidst a fairytale location just past Nittur (A
small village near Kollur). Our home for the evening, Simha farms, was
beautifully perched above a wild stream on the Kollur-Shimoga state highway and
its isolation offered perfect orientation to our tired minds and body as I settled in its backyard, overlooking a
dense areca nut plantation, with Budweiser and Ranjith for company. With
darkness spreading across Malnad, its nocturnal inhabitants rendered the
ambience beautiful with sight, feel and sound as the fire flies flew all around
us, thrill engulfed us and the Cicadas composed one of the best symphonies for our
ears. Past dinner we went for an out of the world walk through the areca
nut plantations and a moment (Photo 19)
captured on the camera explained the mood of a monsoon night in Malnad as
the moon was fighting hard against the rain bearing clouds from west. Shortly
the rains resumed and we settled into the comfortable earthen rooms that
retained warmth and comfort better than a modern house, while I slowly succumbed
to sleep with premature dreams of the day next gracing my tired eyes. The dawn
was graced with a cup of hot coffee and drenched landscape, as we quickly
geared up for the off-road adventure in a 4 wheel drive that would drop both of
us at the base of Kodachadri peak to kick off an even bigger adventure. The off-roading took us through and past
the most remote villages of Malnad, where surprisingly life sustained with extremely
basic comforts, keeping me wondering how this experience could have been if the
monsoons were good and vigor. After an hour of off-roading we were dropped straight into a sugarcane
field in front of the imposing Kodachadri ranges (Photo 29) and the hike
started exactly from here to continue into the dense forests ahead. Thanks to
the rains, their absence seemed to be tailor made for our hike over the dangerously
smooth rocks that seemed to continue all the way to the waterfall we were
pursuing. The destination, Hidlumane
falls, was one of the gateways to the Kodachadri trek and presented a gorgeous sight
upon reaching its base (Photos 7 and 17). It may seem small in the digital
media, but when you look into photo 7 with my friend posing right from its base
the perception is amended to align with reality which says it’s huge.
Curbing our fun, the rains resumed making it dangerous to continue our presence
there as we hastened our retreat back to the village with beautiful views accompanying
us all along. As I completed the hike and reached the waiting Jeep, I refreshed my thoughts over the past 3
days that went by like a dream in an Indian Cinema and was mesmerized to
realize it indeed had been a dream run for us. We conquered Kudlu Theertha when
the forest gates were closed; we made a daring and courageous attempt at
conquering the wild and arrogant Arasinagundi and also, we eventually made it
to the base of the mysterious and lesser Known Hidlumane falls as a desert to
this rustic jaunt. Above all, while driving back to the resort a Kalinga
Sarpa (King cobra in Kannada language) lying right on the middle of the forest
tract and the fact that it was still there with half of its body length exposed
from the bushes until I jumped out of the Jeep, ran towards it like a cat and
crouched watching its mighty move deep into the forest was an exhilarating sign-off
to this thrilling trip. Few hours later when
we packed up and drove quietly towards Shivanmoga, countryside of Malnad was conveying
emotions in infinite proportions and it was this connectivity that had made me come
here, over the past 6 years, again and again until I was able to find my lost
heart, until I was able to find my loneliness, until I was lost and lonely…from
the outside world I was destined to live with…
