What a fairytale
life will be like? Is it something elite reserved for that someone born with an
inherent blessing carried forward from the sufferings of his previous birth? Will a fairytale life contain extraordinary
happiness throughout that, the world will look at it with envy and craving and
create a magnificent history out of that? As a child I used to build fairytales
varying from my own private train to conquering the beautiful girl the door
next, but; later they were realized to be an outcome of expression resulting
from an intense, temporary and a local event. After all these years and when
more than a quarter of my life having been consumed, it was a funny realization
to recognize that I was trying to understand what a fairytale was and if, it
was reserved for the elite few on this planet. When I embarked on this trip, the first one of 2015, I had the
slightest idea of where my attempt to understand a fairytale would take my
thoughts towards to. As always, as
life climbs the ladder, the loneliness increases in intensity, before it
culminates in old age and eventually; death, I started the late night drive at
23:30 hours with my reliable trip partner Dave in pursuit of the refreshing
monsoon winds that were blowing far away from the shores of the Indian West
coast. Being a weekend the traffic was patience destroying and only of the
reason that Dave was at the wheel, I was able to slow down my hasty thoughts to
realize and settle into the fact that we were both heading into a vacation
after a big and banged gap. Once past the first 50 Kms from city limit, 10
years back, it would normally be a lonely, fast and life threatening drive over
the single lane highways, which I indeed loved and still in love with, while
now; with infrastructure being pumped up
with hefty private funds, the highways were filled with city like immature
traffic that inherently held within them the potential to kill the mood you
would expect to derive out of such a long and lonely drive. Dave fought the
odds and covered the initial 200 Kms, deemed to be the most infested one with
traffic, as we pulled out of the highway into a well-built fuel station to top
up and sit along with a cup of coffee watching the speeding vehicles. It was my
turn now to flex the reflexes, catch up with lost time and emerge out of the
300+ kms mark before dawn, before the sun could begin to throw its frustrating
heat wave on us. I had always loved to
do this, that to lose time and win over it again with tremendous amount of
concentration, speed and accuracy as Mr. God had always been along with me
during these times of intimacy with insanity, keeping away the evils out of my
path, away from my car. The German hatchback assisted with its rock solid
highway manners and we eventually made it beyond the 300+ Kms mark just right
at the moment when sun was waking up in the distant east. The fairytale madness
diluted as sleep humbled me with its erotic powers and Dave took to the wheels
again to enjoy the next and last stretch of 100 Kms that would be engineered
well to expressway standards. Beyond it is a stretch of 135 Kms that I have
been waiting for like a vampire in darkness, but; with the sun out already, a
potential “starter” fairytale was killed and buried in its budding phases
forcing me to close the eyes and dream of a more realistic tale.
Upon reaching
Kumily, the gateway to Idukki, the rains were tempered and the silence was
amplified resulting in a cinematic like entry – slow, sedate, powerful and long
lasting. This beautiful season of rain
is termed “off-season” by tourist circuits resulting in a war zone like
loneliness but at the same time, being conducive to my expectation of an
absolute relaxation in quality silence that was disturbed only by the pouring
rains. As I fell on bed after a sleepless night, the thoughts about a
“fairytale life” were lingering around strong, in the air and; in my mind,
while I also was attempting hard to make myself align with the prevailing
monsoon mood. Loneliness kills, or at
the least, makes your mind a villain when let that way for long, but not here;
in the country of gods where everything, apart from what man had built,
resembles a “cut-out” from a fairytale, created by someone, for someone and this is the kind of ambience that takes
your thoughts as close possible to a tale that has few of the little characters
to attach before it the word fairy. All of my previous visits to Kumily
were during the month of Jan, the winter, when I had captured some amazing
early morning, cold, and frozen moments in my camera, this time around though;
I was there when the cold and crowd were away, rather; rain bearing winds and the
romantic loneliness already in. The
feeling of being engulfed by monsoon winds is different in each of the Indian
states that are blessed to go through this annual ritual in full form, but if
there is one common feeling that unites the Western Ghats States it is none
other than the feeling of being always close to nostalgia. Be it the romantic
and well-spaced loneliness of Kerala or the fear of death overcoming thrill of
Karnataka, at the end; you emerge out with memories that make you crave on bed
in the succeeding months after you have completed the trip. With thoughts
emanating from my past love affairs with these mighty Ghats, I embarked on a
short but stunning and rain drenched drive to a secluded waterfall that fell
from the Ghats of Kerala onto the plains of TN. Idukki is a land of distances and dreams and as, every time, I
drive through her the views are transformed into a nostalgic memoir to be
savored for an entire life time. This drive was intended to take me and Dave
right to the top of Chellarkovil
waterfall (Photos 3 and 15) which
few hours ago stunned both of us (Photo 4) with its imposing height while we
were still in our home state, speeding on the state highway desperate to
catch up with the monsoon winds blowing ruthlessly from over the hills we were
driving through now. The specialty in driving to a destination in Kerala
revolves not around the hype about that destination, but in the generous
seclusion and space that exist in abundance between any of the two important
towns. Most of the love stories with Ghats are scripted during the “pass
through” on these stretches and mine was no different, as I was beginning to
create the script for this blog. The seclusion, automatic instilment of
romance, wind on the face, constant rainfall like grains through a sieve and
occasional ones like volcanic eruption, slow paced lifestyle that could avert
90% of known modern ailments and above all of these, that single feeling of
“connection” with this region of rugged terrain already began to murmur into my
ears that, a fairytale could exist here. To
write off for that nostalgic evening, I was blessed with the sight of a distant
and wild peak being stuffed by heavy monsoon clouds and eventually; hidden
permanently as the rains began to lash. Unmindful, I stood frozen for few
seconds gasping at that fairytale view before running back into the car to
quickly unwind back at our cozy room with chilled Budweiser and talk about that
day’s tale…Could I add the word “fairy” before that? Nope, as the question
still lingered around me until I went to bed that night.
There was let up in
rain the day next, but not in that valuable loneliness, as I embarked on an
early morning drive to the nearby forest office to participate in a pre-booked
bamboo rafting program. Due to tenacious
monsoon winds that had the power and potential to manipulate the path of our
bamboo rafts, the full day program was cut short to half a day adventure which
reduced the impact of thrill in this first time endeavor. Joined a group of
4 girls, who were on their monsoon vacation, from Western India and entered the
drenched, leech infested mud path of Periyar Tiger reserve the first time ever,
as rain played hide and seek for few humid minutes before departing forever
during this trek. Bamboo rafting is a
scheme where you are accompanied by 2 ex-poachers and an armed guard who take
you on a 90 minute trek through the forest Jeep tract, before culminating at
the fringes of the back water of Mullai Periyar dam. Upon reaching here the bamboo
rafts pick you up for a 60 minute ride into the forests with the hope of
bringing you closer to , say, a thirsty Indian Gaur or even; who knows, a Tiger
which inarguably is the most beautiful killing machine god had ever devised.
With high stakes on agenda I made myself comfortable in the pair of leech socks
provided as a part of the fee and also ensured, they were sprinkled all over
with powdered tobacco which, so far, is the most logical and powerful
anti-leech medicine available to mankind. The walk through the forest tract was
uninspiring due to lack of rains, adventure, animals and devoid of emotions, in
complete contrast to the jungle tracts of Karnataka that would simply blow away
the imagination to a different level of awe. The unfavorable conditions
prevailing around dammed any attempt to think of a fairytale tagging to this
trek, which was drenched by humidity rather than rains. Past 90 minutes into the trek, we made the first breakout from the
Jungle running straight into a view that refreshed me like a bottle of cold
Kinley, and in the process; yet again, proving the fact that how well nature
grooms herself when untouched by humans (Photos 8 and 17). The forest rest
house sheltered the girls for the next 30 minutes while I continued my
photography with Dave (Photos 11 and 21)
capturing the moments that prepared the Bamboo rafts for our journey into the
lake. It was a brief moment of
fairytale as I imagined how exotic it would be to live here, in the forest rest
house, with a pristine lake in the front and a dense, dangerous jungle all
around that had the potential to script a fairytale life in absolute style.
Past this beautiful moment we spent the next hour or so adrift on bamboo rafts
and getting ourselves introduced to the magnificent views of Periyar Tiger
reserve, and the only complainant was the feeling of being let down by monsoons
rains that never bothered to shower during this entire episode. The rafting
concluded with a sad note as we began the return hike through the now hot and
humid jungle tract that had been heated up well by the mid-day sun. Lack of
rains played a decisive role in pushing this hike to the back seat of my
memory, as I walked fast thinking about
the day next when I had planned for a drive to one of the most exotic locales
in this part of the Ghats, though with certain uncertainty pumped in by
prevailing dullness in the monsoon winds. Once past the gates of the Tiger
reserve, it was a rapid dash to our hotel room where I and Dave dwindled into a
quick, dreamy nap following the humid trek we were out of now. I was woken up
as temperature had settled well now in the comfort zone and monsoon winds have
begun to flow past this section of the Ghats again, rendering a beautiful evening that led me and Dave to walk past the
desolate street and settle down in a cozy coffee shop. Here’s where the big
debate began, as I closed tight my eyelids, stretched the legs in comfort and
sat in a state of seduction as the aromatic coffee sparked my thoughts about
the day next…Should I go there? For this moment, it was predestined to enjoy
the excessively delicious coffee and leave the debate to continue into the day
next, and that is what I exactly did. After that beautiful relaxation at
the coffee shop, it was a rejuvenating walk through the romantically lonely,
wet streets before settling into the cold and comfy night for a sleep that
contained no dreams.
It was the day of departure
when I woke up from the comfortable and warm bed after a night of sleep, that
was enhanced by aching legs and bubbling Budweiser, and from my past trips I have evolved from considering the “day of
departures” as tear filled, nostalgic events to viewing them as a critical link
to my past years. Those were the instants that would be printed forever in my
lifeline for it was at those moments when my memory would be frozen for few
minutes to forget the past, ignore the future and absolutely go through where I
was. With my question on fairytale still unanswered, I pursued the narrow
hill road that wound its way through “fairytale” vistas towards a “fairytale”
location that had the potential to change its geography at an instant, like in a “fairytale” (Photos 2, 12, 23, 26
and 28). With such a huge array of links to fairytale, I embarked with
robust confidence that the answer to my big question could be found around the
next corner, one after the other, as they were passed by in absolute isolation
and precision. Do fairytales occur
around the next corner, who knows, and the destination of the day, as it
approached, disintegrated anything that accompanied our minds, along with us,
all the way back from our homes. “Vagamon”
is one location where you don’t drive to, rather; you drive through, back and
forth, north and south, and; east and west to end up nowhere but see a lot of
mind disturbing visuals and get blown by its “kaleidoscope” of natural
offerings. The mighty Western Ghats surrounding this beautiful place, and
the monsoon winds converging around Western Ghats made the drive like in a
fairytale, though really not a one. Upon reaching the proximity of Vagamon’s beauty
we gently pushed ourselves out into the mist and drizzle to capture few of the
most beautiful moments, and even the parked car looked gorgeous over this
fairytale landscape. Here is where I began to think seriously about what a
fairytale really is when I captured 2 stunning illustrations of “solitude” ,
and being a staunch lover of loneliness
these two shots (Photos 16 and 18) loaded my heart with loads of emotions. The lonely cow grazing on the opposite hill
with only mist, drizzle and wind ripped trees for company; the lonely tree
hushed by thick fog on a hill slope, both served the kind of emotion that I
came looking for and that couldn’t be found through this entire trip.
Special moments occur in an eye blink, and these two served yet another
reminder as I forgot time and kept looking at the stunningly quick changing
landscape…and thinking how my life had
been…better than that lonely cow and tree? Obviously not is what I would
say, for these 2 were exactly going through every day, what I was craving for
every moment…cravings that couldn’t be controlled and that kept my heart busy
with high speed pumping resulting from the stress that I couldn’t feed my
cravings. For me a fairytale is
something that goes into history as an admired, craved and much followed
“set-up” that needs to be god given; that needs to occur naturally and which
cannot be replicated by anyone or anything. A life in Western Ghats is one such
fairytale I have dreamt about eternally and one that seems to never replicate
in my own, as I continuously fight against time and resources to bring myself
near to this fairytale as frequently as possible. With time running much
faster than my dreams it was time to depart, physically, as me and Dave bid bye
to this beautiful jaunt that culminated in a near fairytale location. The drive
back down the Ghats was nostalgic as I was overwhelmed, despite the best of my
efforts, by the memories of similar, beautiful departures from my past jaunts
through the last decade. This was also my last road trip with Dave for he was
about to share his life, time and memories with a woman destined to hold his
hands through the ritual of marriage, and this intensified the departure with a
special sensation. After hours of drive and stunning views, we emerged out of
the Ghats just before dusk when the monstrous
monsoon clouds were beginning to look at us with pity and the gust from the
Ghats, hundreds of feet above, was beginning to blow out of proportions (Photo
35) making it unbearable for us to stand any further at that particular
location, at that particular time. Something
as simple as the life that lonely cow and the tree were going through seemed to
be the best fairytale for me, and for me to go through such a fairytale life it
was going to take another birth…Until then, until that time comes, the only
salvation Iam left with is to take my body as frequently possible to and
across the Western Ghats…and when not possible; my thoughts…as I continue
my journeys to these fairytale locations in pursuit of my attempts to get close to a
fairytale life…
