Are emotions essential, or; they aren’t needed? Do emotions
make a man, or; do they destroy him? Are emotions real, or; they are unreal? When I look at the world with emotions; I
feel sad, I feel angry, I feel afraid, I feel ashamed, I feel dejected, I feel
rejected, I feel lonely, I feel bad, I feel mad, I feel lust, I feel crazy and
I feel everything. When I look at the world without emotions, I feel nothing
and I just feel myself as I walk past every single atrocity and pain with ease
and elegance, will that then mean; Iam not a human? It’s a delicate debate
that I put behind me, got into my car and drove in search of an answer to this
emotive question, huh, sorry; to this complicated question on a night that
didn’t evoke my emotions as during the earlier drives to this destination. The
drive to this destination is very special for me as I cross the 900 Kms mark
when I enter it, and after entering it; it’s a shower of rains and my emotions
thereafter are in direct proportion to them. My world could be dry, hot &
emotionless until I near 900 Kms, but once I see that magical number on the Odo
it’s a magical world where emotions do exist, but they are real and beautiful
and they sustain without a source and cause. It’s in search of these emotions
that I embark on such long, lonely drives to destinations that are hidden from
cunning commercialism that is fast preying upon beautiful hide outs around the
world. As anytime in the past,
departures are beautiful when a jaunt begins to that much loved destination and
I hit the highways with a significant portion of the car population turning
away into the city roads and fast disappearing in my rear view mirror as I sped
into that thrilling darkness with multi axle trucks and Volvos for company.
Past the 100 Km mark exactly from my home, the highway transforms into an
aggressive 6 lane expressway and this sustains to be like that until I’ll reach
Chitradurga, still 450 Kms away, the next morning. From here on its my version
of “Sony play station” as I keep the momentum at such a high pace that is bound
to frighten any passenger who sits alongside me until they accept its within
the controls of a human being to do what I love to do; never slow down but find
the gap. Darkness and speed are a
thrilling combination to feed that extraordinary demand of adrenaline to those
who aren’t inclined to do something like, say; base jumping, but still wan’t to
get an equivalent. Here; the intensity of “rush” is less than that experienced
in the jump, but; the loss of rush is compensated by the demand that, precision
and focus is expected to be sustained for a much longer period of time and you
never really know what’s there in the next “second” when you are covering
distance at the rate of 45 meters/ sec and occasionally; 55 meters/ sec on a
public road that sees everything from a cat to a cow crossing at the blink of
an eye. Kevin Krog’s remix version of Hans Zimmer’s “Injection” fueled in
that courage to be on the edge, second after second, to feel extraordinary and
to feel emotional…But why it needed to be like that when I can have my peace by
not doing all of the above? Am I emotional? Do emotions drive human to
everything they are good and bad at? Iam yet to understand that…
This drive is always special to me, how many ever times I do
it, as I cross three southern states of India to reach a destination that is
drenched with a generous chunk of monsoon rains, timeless roads, deep forests
and a nostalgic nuance that is peculiar to this region. When sun sets here the dusk pinches the emotions to emerge, like a
vampire in vengeance, that if you are someone with a romantically inclined
conscience you will lose yourself to commit a sin that isn’t punishable by law.
With dawn lazily emerging I was intermittently seeing 200 Kmph, on the speedo,
on the Tumkur-Chitradurga 6 lane expressway and it was still dangerous though.
This section of barriered 150 Kms is a bliss to drive, particularly so when the
sun was peeing out from behind me on the rear view mirror and, ironically; when
I was chasing the sleep away with an acoustical assist from Fyor’s remix of
“Sundown”. The urge to reach the
destination is strongest during this phase of the drive as the sleepless night
behind and the beautiful days ahead tear me apart multiple times until I
overcome them and enjoy my favorite stretch of tarmac, as long as my stamina
and bladder would permit. Past Chitradurga the broad 6 lanes reduce to narrow 4
lanes bringing along the factor of speed limit, and just this insignificant
transition was enough to kill my emotions while in the process giving me a
small hint of what these were all about. But it didn’t end just like that
as the usually drenched roads were rendered dry until the distant horizon that
was visible to my watchful eyes, in contrast to my distant memory that was
stored safe inside my wedged heart. Emotions
were all around me, front & back, near & far; as they tossed my
concentration like a bar tender on a Caribbean beach; they were intoxicating
and addictive but at the same time taking me away from the beautiful reality
that was about to unfold like Aladdin's carpet. It has been 3 years since I
began to cover this stretch every year when monsoon hit the west coast, but
none could match the ambience of the 2013 debut drive that rewrote my
perceptions on ecstasy. God gives once, when he gives there are no words as
emotions take control and so was the case way back in 2013. Certain time in life events occur so perfectly
in the most expected manner, which we would have never expected at those moment
of our lives as they flow past us to become a memory while still holding on to
our emotions to translate into an emotive expression many years later when you
recognize what you missed when you were offered. I had a remedy though and
it was no ordinary remedy, it was like a banned drug that was about to
transform my life for the next 3 days into an endless ecstasy and the very
beginning of this ecstasy that starts just past the town of Belgaum didn’t
present the good signs for me to continue this journey further with a smile.
People and places are the 2 most vital things which form an
integral part of our of memorable or painful memories, as predominantly we
refer to them in our future endeavours. When it comes to my obsession with
Western Ghats, I have a good amount of it that I get emotional the moment I
near the Ghats with, slowly, rains creeping in from the west and gripping my
thoughts in a drenched nostalgia. Chorla ghats, which start just on the Western
outskirts of Belgaum, wore an average look for the rains were immensely reduced
from the normal and this pumped up my emotions again, in the reverse order. Nature
couldn’t be fought back though, as I continued my exhausted drive up into the
Chorla ghats for that much needed break at a village that appears out of
nowhere like an oasis. Jamboti is a tiny village that lies right on the
beautiful Chorla ghat road and the long drive from Chennai could be healed here
with a cup of tea or, a plate of hot roti and chick as the rains pound this
region with such force that, the world immediately appears to be beautiful and
sinless. But for my luck there were only dark clouds that were reluctant to
shed tears as my lunch completed to be succeeded by a cup of tea,
as I stood outside that dark hotel anticipating the rains. Sometimes your emotions are heard aloud that; even God concedes what
you asked for, as the dark clouds began to shed tears very strongly and my
emotions were so well understood by God that, the clouds didn’t stop crying
until I exited the Ghats 2 days later, through Molem in southern Goa. The rains
dramatically changed the ambience of this drive and immediately, the world
around me translated into something that would be cuddly and sleepy but I
needed to keep going with my eyelids closed partially. What a noon that
was, one of the best yet again, as I hit the romantic left turn which was
approximately 914 Kms from Chennai and that would lead me to the highest
Village in Goa from where I could also witness one of nature’s purest forms of
magic, the Ladkyacho Vozar waterfall. There are few things in life which you
would love to do without an expectation, for me standing there and fighting the
mists to get a glimpse of this magical waterfall was one of such thing
regardless of the monsoon darkness that was fast encroaching this region. The
drive took me further into the mesmerizing Chorla Ghats and inevitably; the
most iconic landmark on this road, the beautiful resort “Wildernest” where I
spent one of the most exotic moments of my life three years back when the rains
and the beauty around this region were more pronounced than now. Post this
iconic landmark the Chorla Ghat road begins to descend towards a nostalgic
junction, Keri, where the diversion to Molem in Southern Goa lies dormant with
only occasional visitors like me making a note of it and turning there while
the majority proceeds towards Panaji. Konkan dusk rewrote my perception of love
4 years back and now, it was beginning to take it to the next level as
darkness, rains and loneliness began to dominate the drive with ambient music
from the 6 CD changer bridging the gap between me and the romantic countryside
lying outside the car. Under daylight
Iam weak, playful and quiet but; when the darkness engulfs I transform so much
that I will stand up against even the most powerful of natural elements to
become a part of it and enjoy every second even it meant death. The 40 Kms
something of the remote Goa’n country road that connects north with the south
pushed me to the limits as I drove almost blind, blinded by the rains, but
never once I bothered to ease my legs on the throttle as the VW, energized by
“Trails” by Trentemoller, pierced its way dangerously through the “glassy”
roads wedged between the dark forests. As I neared my destination, Molem,
distant village lights signaled me to slow down but I didn’t and eventually a
pair of gorgeous Goa’n girls on their bike did the job for I needed to slow to
disintegrate the fear amongst them which I instilled with the rate I approached
them from behind. They stared as I passed by them and quickly melted into
the meager traffic that was passing through the Molem Junction to quickly cross
the border check post and check into the Dudhsagar Spa resort, my place of stay
for the next 2 days and, though not great on ambience, a terrific place to
relax with a pint on hand and good food on the table as the rains sustain, with
beautiful women walking around, and chubby pussy cats waiting beneath the table
for a bite of fish. That night I didn’t feel as emotive as I did way back in
2013, for Dudhsagar wasn’t on my agenda and the only thing on my mind just
moments before I fell asleep was, to keep driving around the mystic roads that
pierced their way through the remote forests of Molem.
