The trek, rain, shine and joy

Up at 4:30. The night was so short. We had to divide our luggage into two. First set, we would carry with us to Govindghat and the other would join us after we came back from there. Thanks to the Dri-fit variety of clothes for I could squeeze all 3 day worth of clothes into my back-pack.

The girls expectedly took a lot of time - pack, re-pack, cross-pack, inter-pack and various other kinds of experiments were done. They finally concluded that what you do not need for 3 days, you may not need for a life time... so they ended up packing most of their stuff into the three day bag. Once the bags got sorted out, we were all set to go. From here on, the roads are really narrow and treacherous. Hence, they (locals) have worked out a nice time-sharing plan. Every alternate two hour slot is designated to each direction. Two hours is the approximate time required by a slow vehicle to go from one check point to the next. Between those check points (called gates), the drivers can be rest assured that there will not be any on-coming traffic. Since the taxi-drivers very well understand that this arrangement is for their safety, they adhere to the time limits strictly and do not attempt to bend the rules. However, there are always some brash, moronic self driven tourists who miss the time limit and dangerously pose themselves as unexpected oncoming traffic. We did make the Joshimath - Govindghat gate in good time. On the way we did see the Hydro Electric project at Vishnu Prayag, the base of ITBP (Indo Tibetian Border Police), the base of Gharwal Rifles (Para military outfit). There is no other sign of civilization between Joshimath and Govindghat.

[left: Hiring the Pittus, intense negotiations]

Govindghat is a stop-over town. There is nothing permanent here. Hotels, Restaurants and temples all are made only for the tourists and pilgrims – mainly pilgrims visiting Hemkund Saheb, one of the most holy places for the Sikh community. Its is again a single street city (you can not get lost here…) the street ends in a bridge. Across the bridge, the trek to Ganghria beckons. But before that, we had to get tick off two big “to-do”s – break-fast at Nany’s restaurant and hire the Pittos. Pittos are porters who carry luggage for those who wish not to carry themselves. For the benefit of both Pittus and the travellers, the whole process of Pittu hiring is organized. Every Pittu has an ID card that is deposited with the traveller at the point of hiring. The traveller pays for the Pittus in advance, but not to them directly. Money is placed at the organization counter (kind of an Escrow) – for which he gets a reciept. At the end of successful and satisfying trip the ID card and the reciept are handed over to the Pittu, who then encash the reciept for cash. No Pittu is allowed to operate out of the system. This ensures both minimum pay for the Pittus and safety of the traveller (and his belongings). We finally hired two of them because one of them sopke broken Kannada and the other was his friend. I forget their names… How rude?

[right: River Lakshmana that we followed through out the valley. It has its origins in the Holy Lake of Hemkund or Lakshmanatheertha]

Once the Pittus were hired, the journey starts after crossing Alaknanda. The 13 Kms trek to Ganghria can be done on foot, on horse back, on a doli (for old people) or the back of a pittu (for little children). The path is well laid out. One can not get lost. However, since the digestive cycle of horses are not under anybody’s control the path is littered all around with horse shit. If you are on this trek, you are forced to rewrite the proverb “You can take the horse to the loo, but you can not make it crap”. I know that it is bio-degradable, and we are better off with horse shit than plastic, and we have to learn to live together with nature and all such fundas… but the fact of the matter is that it is still horse-shit and shit stinks. There was a weather forecast for rain/thundershowers. From the ground condition, it looked as though it had rained the previous day also. Hm… horse shit, rain, muddy path. We are going to have a heck-of-a-trek today.

[right: One of the innumerable Water falls across the valley. Can you spot the Great Himalayan White Snow Leopard? Neither did we...]

Trekking in the Himalayas is not very from trekking in Western Ghats. He he he… that’s totally a frog-in-the-well comment. Its totally different. The gradients are different. The altitude is much higher. The air is cool (not humid). The vegitation, birds, butterflies everything is different. For me, everything is also new. Thanks to the Binauculars-101 class that Mamu gave me yesterday, I was enjoying the scenery/birding more. The seven men group soon split into 3 + 4. The first three kept pace with the fast Pittus and soon were out of sight. In the back group were mamu, Sneha, Roopa and me. 13Kms to cover, entire day for that – how hard can it get? So we took it really easy. Taking time off at every bend, at every breath taking view, at the sight of every waterfall. Yes, there was a water fall to be seen almost every half hour. It is not those monsoon streams falling off a cliff that we call waterfalls in the south. These were really tall 200+ feet falls. Thankfully they were all on the other side of the valley and totally inaccessible. Hence there was no need to fight off the temptation of taking dip. The mountains on either side kept growing on us as we walked further.

[left: Ladies of Gharwal, Beauty is in the air here]

We ticked off Kilometer after Kilometer, each one being slower than the previous.Spotting a bird here, a wild flower there. Talking to people coming back, some tired, some jubilant. Everybody were mesmerised by what they had seen at the Valley and Hemkund. They said it was nothing short of heaven. I imagined, there must not be any horses there… no horse, no horse shit. A couple of Gharwal ladies were on their way back from daily routine of collecting grass for their cattle. They agreed to be photographed. People here are surprisingly aware of their right to say no... and rightly so. At the beginning, we were going slow because we wanted to soak in the beauty around us (in spite of horse shit). After 4-5 Kms, we were slow because we could not go any faster… even if we wanted to. Water bottles were with Pittus who were too far ahead. No Glucose, No Electral and no sign of the forecasted rain. In stead it was a hot and de-hydrating day. “On ward we move…” I kept telling myself to keep myself motivated. There is a free medical camp mid way if at all pilgrims get injured/sick. There are two state-of-the-art foot massage machines, powered by a diesel generator.

[Right: One of the many shops to keep the food coming, as long as you do not mind the x2 price tag. L was thrilled at seeing the calendar]

At around 2:00 PM we were at the mid way point. There is a hotel there by that name. That triggered of the thought of hunger. We had quick make-shift lunch – Maggie with vegetables. Rs 30/- for the same. We had lime water at some other place. Rs 20/- per glass. All the shops have identical pricing to take competition out of the picture. Since the number of travelers are way too high, every body gets as many customers as they can handle. So, they do not see the need to compete on prices. After these two surprises, we made it a point to know the price of anything before we order. This was hardly a snack and we moved on.

Powered and rejuvenated by the pit stop, our speed picked up for the next few minutes – only to be brought to a complete halt by wet weather. Where did that come from? Just 30 minutes ago, the sky was spotlessly clear. We quickly draped ourselves with the rain-coats we bought at Govindghat. A rain-coat is called “barsati” here and I had a US Army barsati – bright and red. Once we had that on, rain did not bother us. And the rain surely lifted our spirits up, and also that of our location - waterfalls, trees, mountains and the river below - all seemed to be singing and dancing to the tune of the rain. Too bad, we had packed all our cameras inside – safe and dry. We kept walking taking lesser and lesser breaks since there was no decent place to sit… horse-shit + rain + slush + brand new US made raincoat, there was no way I was going to stop anywhere. With just 3 Kms to go, we were welcomed into one of the restaurants by our very own Kumar. It was about 3:30PM... and lunch was definitely due. Guess what? Alu Parantha and Onion Parantha again. Since it was almost tea time, and rain had just eased a bit, we also gulped 2 cups of tea each ;-) This was the first time we came so close to the river. This is the only restaurant that is on both sides of a river with a makeshift wooden plank acting as a bridge. I gauged the temperature of the water by washing my hands in it... 3 seconds and I could no longer feel my palm. It was that frigid. It is understandable because the water was only couple of hours away from its source, a melting glacier.

[left: a million streams run down soon after rain, forget the foreground]

We moved on. We had to make good progress because it gets dark too soon on the mountains. It started pouring again. While my Solar sneakers held on well, Roopa’s Nike gave up. We had to do some creative engineering to keep it from falling apart - at least till Ganghria where we could buy new foot wear. As the rain got heavier, surprisingly our spirits were much lighter. No pain, No worry, just march on - horseshit or otherwise. I don’t know why I started singing loudly - “Appadi podu podu...” (Moto Rokr). Two more hours of walk-stop-walk and the terrrain eased a bit. It was clear we were in the Ganghria valley. The rain had also eased. The scenery that surrounded us was surreal. We were surrounded by high peaks on all sides. There were numerous rain fed streams on all the nearby mountains. It was as if the mountains wore silver ornaments all over. On the distant peaks, glaciers and snow made them look majestic. Truly we were “in” the Himalayas.

[right: Look for the melting glaciers on the far off mountains. Entry to Ganghria.]

Ghangria is again a city carved out for the tourists. GMVN has a hotel and a dormitory. However, they get filled pretty soon. There are numerous hotels. Rs 1000/- per room per night is the normal price. But, don’t expect any thing more than basics. We managed to get acco at Mary Cottage, 2^nd floor. The hotel quickly fixed the leaky roof. We decided to use one room exclusively to dry our clothes and rest in the other two. The rest of the evening was spent in shopping (for better rain-coats, Roopa’s foot wear), dinner at Hotel Himalaya, phone-calls to home (Rs 20/- per minute) and exchanging pictures and comments.

New friends:

In front of the GMVN guest house, mamu sighted the “Little tree creeper”. Since the bird was also in a photo shoot mood, he was clicking away to glory. His interest in seemingly insignificant bird raised a few eye-brows. However, people who know the trade were pleasantly surprised and appreciative. One of them was Ragubir Chauhan. He is a Botanist by profession and owns a souvenir shop in Ghanghria, selling photos, DVDs and books on the valley. He also accompanies groups into the valley as a guide. A very nice man.

In the middle of all the rain, we met Prahlad from Bangalore. He will join PES college for engineering. A jolly young man, sadly with a heavy bag. He found himself in the alone in a group of 52 - to slow to be with the leading group, faster than the slowest. We gave him some company for a Kilometer or two trying to up his spirits ;-)

Suguna aunty. She was so kind to us. I have seen very few of them who talk so pleasantly to strangers. God bless her.

Drive through the mountains – Rishikesh to Joshimath

Two full months after the trip, and still no trip-report. This has some reasons - albeit frivolous. One, work pretty much sucks. Second, I have come to realize that words just do not make justice to the wonders that we witnessed during that week. It is truly befitting that Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson) on "Bucket List" chose ‘seeing the Himalayas’ to tick off the "Witness something magnificent".

Our journey from Rishikesh to Joshimath may have been ordinary and routine for the locals (like our driver - Jaypal Khanduri). But for some of us who were seeing the Himalaya's for the first time, it was nothing short of magnificent. Yesterday, I saw Ganga for the first time. Today, I am seeing Himalayas for the first time. We saw numerous rope bridges built across the Ganga. One of the first was at Marine Drive. A beautiful winding drive of about 4-5 Kms clinging to the Ganga, just like its name sake in Mumbai. It is maintained in top form and aptly named by the BRO - Border Roads Organization. One is bound to imagine what would happen if BRO were not there... All our destinations would be multi-day treks instead of 12 hour drives. Not too bad.. eh?

The early morning fog on the Ganga looked nothing less mystic as the Amazon. (My knowledge of the Amazon is only from the movie with J Lo and the snake). The river passes through valleys and bends around mountains to make wonderful beaches at the bends. It is difficult to believe that water takes the path of least resistance. Looking at the tall trees, boulders and parts of mountain devoured by Ganga along her way, it only looks like she does not choose least resistance. She just chooses a path on her whim and quells all resistance on that path. We just have got the cause and effect wrong.

The rest of the morning was interestingly-boring. It is a new term, when people get bored of seeing too many interesting things. We had a late breakfast at Kaudiyala (at Monal Restaurant. I guess?). We had Alu-parantha and Onion-parantha - loads of them. Little did we know that our familiarity with these two specific dishes would only increase as we gain altitude? Beyond that point, the roads got more treacherous and scenery got more beautiful. Deep gorges, Rock cut roads, Landslides, terrace farming, rope bridges, rain and shine became the order of the day.

We reached Joshimath a little after sunset. Joshimath is a town bustling with travelers. It is small pack of activity amidst total wilderness. For six winter months in an year, this is the last bit of active town along this route. We quickly finished darshan of some of the most holy shrines for Hindus. A cave where Adi Shankara performed long term penance and composed some of his best works, the present Jyotirmath - winter office of the Shankara Math of Badri and so on... By night fall, we again were faced with the same old question. What to eat? And where? Thanks to some heightened level of cleanliness consciousness, we shuttled from hotel to hotel before finally ordering food from a restaurant with open kitchen. However, we could never be sure where the food came from... since restaurants seemed to loan food whenever there was some kind of liquidity (turn-over) crisis ;-)) We retired to the cozy beds under the thick blankets wishing it were a long night. Ha ha ha... we had to be up by 4:30 to be on time for the next-day's oprdeal.

Breakfast at Kaudiayala, lunch at Rudra Prayag, tea at Pipalkoti and dinner at Joshimath. That pretty much describes day-two of our trip which saw us drive past three of the four holy prayags - Dev Prayag - confluence of Alaknanda and Bhagirathi, Rudra Prayag - Alaknanda and Mandakini, Karna Prayag - Alaknanda and Pindari.

(from Left: Dev Prayag, Rudra Prayag, Karna Prayag)

Day 1: An evening by the Holy Ganga.

The train from Delhi to Haridwar was almost on time. We quickly got in and loaded all the luggage. Mamu was kind enough to give me company since my seat was away from the rest of the gang (I was a late addition to the trip). His real interest may have been the person sitting next to me - Joanna, a brit medicine intern. As the train started moving, she started speaking to Mamu in her broken Hindi. Mamu's Hindi was worse... They quickly dropped the pretense and switched to something more convinient - English. She was in India for her summer internship spending four weeks in Lansdowne and four weeks somewhere in Tamil Nadu. 

One thing I love about traveling by Shatabdhi is the food. They just keep it coming. Early morning tea was followed by good hot breakfast. After enduring the cold dinner on board the JetLite, this tasted yummy. It was indeed yummy. While I was trying to engage Joanna in some cultural exchange ;-) Mamu was engrossed himself in spotting various birds outside the train - Herons, various egrets, peigons and so on... About five hours later we reached Haridwar. The city has nothing extravagent. But, the people make it very colorful, strikingly colorful. We made ourway through the sea of piligrims and got out of the station.

Vikram: Rishikesh is about 30 Kms from Haridwar. There are trains and buses that ply between Haridwar and Rishikesh. However, the most fun way to reach Rishikesh is to go by a Vikram. Vikram is a over grown auto rickshaw. It can seat six people easily - eight with some difficulty. It has ample luggage room on the top. Most of its weight comes from the armour - and it is surely built for combat. The driver showed off his dexterity all along the way... once in a while reminding us why such an armour makes sense. The thirty kilometers took more than an hour to pass by. In that hour, the weather had eased from being extremely dusty and sultry to something more managable. A light drizzle also helped cool things down. But what took my breath away was my first look at the mighty Ganges. 

The Ganga resort is surrounded by mountains. The Ganges makes her entry from behind some of those mountains, flowing past the famous Ram Juhla and Laxman Juhla (hanging bridges of Rishikesh), past numerous ghats, jumping and dancing over the rocks before nearing the resort. For a distance, one can not make out the force of her current. She appears to be gently ambling her way through. It is only when you get close or get your feet wet, you can know her real power. Pilgrims on the ghats show their respects to Ganga a variety of offerings - flowers, fruits, food and so on. Even funeral rites are also done. In spite of all the noble intentions, they end up polluting the river. The resort however, is very secluded from the hustle and bustle of the ghats. Lunch at the resort was simple and sumptuous. But some of us found it to be very bland. The bill however was a surprise - 1000 bucks for seven people was clearly on the costlier side. But this was only warning signs of what was to follow in the coming days.

After a quick rest, we started towards down town Rishikesh - which is enssentially a two street town - one on either side of the Ganges. the two streets are connected by two hanging bridges couple of kilometers apart. Our fist stop was Laxman Jhula - Laxman's Swing. The ride from the resort to Laxman Jhula was on a Vikram and costed Rs 7/- a piece. Some haggling with the enthusiastic guides and a deal for our guided tour was made. Rs 30/- for half an hour of expert service. The guidance available was limited to reciting the names of all the temples and urging us to go in. He even tried to incite us into doing some shopping at a "favorable" artifacts shop. The boring tour ended at the Laxman Jhula - home of a colony of monkeys. They make their living on generous left-overs and gift from their human cousins. On the way to the Jhula, hawkers sell monkey and fish food to be consumed by these fellas. 

At Laxman Jhula, we crossed the Ganga on to the other side of Rishikesh. This side is colonized by the langurs. Like the dogs, cows and the horses in Rishikesh they are also pretty happy to be living amidst humans. There is an astonishing number of dharma shalas where poor and helpless travelers can avail shelter and free food. Long live the donors who keep these institutions running. A jeep ride took us from Laxman Jhula to Ram Jhula. Rishikesh is also known for delicious jilebis. We inquired at a couple of sweat-meat stalls and shops. Apparently it is a mornings-only dish. Nevertheless, we entered the Geeta Bhavan determined to have some sweet or the other. Lakshmi zeroed in on besan-ki-burfi. Um... it just melted on its way in.

Near Ram Jhula is a famous ashram by name - Paramartha Nikethan. Here is where the famous "Ganga Arthi" of Rishikesh takes place every evening at 6:15 PM (ish). We were right on time. We bought the artis (Rs 5/- a piece) and made ourselves comfortable in the first few rows. A young priest was kind enough to guide us to the vantage point. Later all kind of people (common and the privileged) started pouring in. A BJP convention was arranged in Rishikesh on the week-end. How can high Profile MLAs and their wives miss the aarti? Every body wanted a front row seat. This led to some confusion and over packing. The aarti in itself was a very satisfying experience. Bhajans, shlokas were chanted by priests and mesmerized devotees. This was followed by hundreds of people lighting their aartis and letting them afloat in the river. The river seemed to respond by increasing her fervor. It was finally concluded by the head priest who thanked all the VIPs for coming and pledged support in the upcoming elections... what a let down to the otherwise exhilarating spiritual experience.

Dinner had to be at the Chotiwala - the most famous hotel in all of Rishikesh. Chotiwala means "a guy with the topknot". There are two such hotels, probably brothers who inherited equal rights over the name. Both of them use live mascots to attract travelers, whether or not they are hungry. The food is ordinary, but the service is enthusiastic. We tried to find out about "the gharwal speciality" if one existed. Perhaps because Rishikesh is a traveller's city, it caters more to visitor's choice than its own. Hence all that the hotelier's could recall were varities of kheer and dal.

By nightfall, all the mendicants had resigned for the day and resorted to smoking pot. We crossed the Ganga again, this time by the Ram Jhula. A ride from Ram Jhula to Ganga resort during the day would have costed just Rs 5/- At night however, it only depends on how hard a bargain you can drive. We settled for Rs75/- for all of us together.

A week among the mountains - the beginning.

Preparation:
This is the longest tour that I have ever been on. I usually over-pack. So this time, I was determined to consciously cut down on the stuff I carry. Lakshmi cautioned me about the weather we would encounter for the 9 days in the Himalayas. Sultry in Delhi (and the plains), Rain during the treks and extremely cold during the nights. This meant that I had to pack all three kinds of clothing. Luckily, I could buy a couple of dri-fit shirts just in time - that would come in handy for both sultry and rainy conditions. It is also amazing how less baggage space they need. A fleece jacket was my bet against the cold. I took the US made poncho to shield me from the imminent rain. Since Lakshmi-Karthik duo had taken care of all the travel and lodging headache, this was all the preparation that I had to do.

Travel booked before hand:
Air: Bangalore - Delhi - Bangalore (JetLite) - Rs 5375/- one way.
Train: Delhi - Haridwar (Shatabdhi) Rs 435/-
Haridwar - Delhi (Jana Shatabdhi) Rs 345/-

Lodging:
Gharwal Mandal Vikas Nigam Ltd. (GMVN) Customized tour.
Three rooms at all night halt places of the tour.

Local Travel:
Rishikesh -> Joshimath -> Badrinath -> Joshimath -> Haridwar Qualis + Driver: Rs 48000/-

Day 0: The eclipse, the rain and the flight.
August 1, 2008. It is the day of the partial Solar Eclipse. Little did we know about this celestial event when we planned the trip. It took a lot less convincing than I had expected for my mother to let me embark on a long journey during the eclipse. Our Flight was at 8:40 PM. To be traffic safe, I reached the Malleswaram Bus Stand as early as 3:30PM. AC buses ply the route to airport (new) every half hour. The airport shuttle pulled in to the bus-stand. Vayu Vajra - as the shuttle is called, is very usable. Traveling to the airport is reduced to just walking/driving up to the nearest pickup point. The routes are all so arranged that one can not be living more than a couple of Kms away from some pickup point or the other. Once in side the bus, there is ample luggage carriers. The crew is courteous. I got in... paid Rs125/- and went into a pleasant sleep.

An hour later, we were at the airport. I was seeing it for the first time. I sat down near the huge suitcase, wondering if it were Bangalore's way of telling "No baggage limits here!!". Later the ladies of the group enlighten me that it is a Louis Vuitton creation - and this dude is the Giorgio Armani of bags. In the airport store, there are handbags worth Rs25000/- that are no larger than a laptop case. Clearly, how much can one pack inside a bag is no longer a parameter that contributes the pricing.

I met the rest of the tour gang at the Coffee day outlet. Along with them, I met their cameras - Canon 10D, Canon 40D, NiKon XYZ, Olympus ABC and two more high end point and shoot cousins from the Canon stable. My 5 year old Canon A60 felt like the hopeless ugly duckling ;-(. Quick 'hi-hellos', Lazy snacks at the Gangotri, and Cafe Coffee Day and we were ready to board the flight. Oops, before that we had to go through a thorough security check. Glad to see that even a small blade in the first aid kit also got caught by the system. Kumar had his name put down as an potential miscreant trying to smuggle a murderous weapon on board a 300 seater passenger air-craft. Guess he will be double checked at every airport from now... he he he.

On board the JetLite, we were served the crappiest snacks in the airline history. Yesterday's dosa would have been warmer than the veg-hot-dog sandwich. Raisin Muffin (or a look-alike) is best left unimagined. Luckily the rest of the flight was event less. We touched down in Delhi way past the business hours of restaurants. Given the choice of spending the night at the airport or the railway station, we chose the later. Delhi airport is being renovated after GMR took over. If I judge their work by generalizing what they have done with the loo, they are doing a fabulous job. Aesthetically pleasing, clean, economic (in using water) and bright. Once we got all bags huddled to one corner, I slipped into a uncomfortable sleep... Often woken up by highly (awkwardly) accented voice reminding that unattended baggage will be taken away "at owner's risk".

At 4:30 on the next day, Karthik woke us up. Time to catch the train. Pre-paid taxis are available outside the airport to shuttle us to the DLS - New Delhi Station. For some reason, Lakshmi kept reminding us that it was New Delhi Station and not Hazrat Nizamuddin. I was not sure of her mood and hence refrained from investigating further. Delhi sign posts flaunt the purest hindi possible. "Bhoomigat paad paar path" means "sub-way". Early morning traffic was sparse. So, we were at the Railway Station in hardly 30 minutes.

Still to come (with pictures):
Rishikesh - Joshimath -Valley of Flowers - Hemkund Lokpal - Badarinath

Punyakoti, the jewel of kannada culture

My North Indian friends have often asked me "What is Kannada culture?". I could never give a crisp answer. Culture is collective behaviour. Unfortunately, the whole of Karnataka was never collective in anything. Even geographically, there is the coastal Karavali, mountainous Malanad, Central and South Central Bayaluseeme and the Northern dry lands. Although agriculture is the main occupation through out the state, the ways and means differ a lot. Economic prosperity differs from region to region. Politically also, different regions have been controlled by non- kannada rulers for so long that they reflect their culture to a considerable extent. But then what's culture that is not open for influence? All these led the scenario whcih prevailed in the 80's - we simply did not have anything that can be decisively heralded as the flag-bearer of Kannada cultre

Over the next three decades, for better or worse, kannada activism took vociferous turn. Ironically, the fervor of this movement is mostly felt in the border districts and directed against other languages rather than towards strengthening ours. But that's another story. Last few week, I spent some time trying to dig out is there any thing in out culture that then entire Karnataka would accept as their own... I was not looking for the most visited temples - since the source of their acceptance is not culture but fear. I was also not looking at the welldecorated literary giants. Music, dress, dialects differed too much.

My search finally lead to this folk story: The story of Punyakoti, the cow that offered its life to stay honest.

Story:
http://mngudi.com/Gudi/govinahaadu.html

Musical Rendition (on youtube):


This song has single-handedly shaped the morality of generations. Used as a bed time story by Kannada mothers (urban and rural alike), this has inculcated the culture of honesty and selflessness among the Kannada children. True, over the years we unlearn a few lessons in the rush of being 'street smart'. Nevertheless, whether he knows it or not, Punyakoti resides in the conscience of every Kannada kid.

Bicycle Rogered :-(

Oblong Rear Wheel :-(((

Now I can crib of drunk drivers first hand.

bikezone topic: http://www.bikeszone.com/forum/viewtopic.php?p=5431#5431

Words are no match for this

Splendid....

United Colors of Sunset

The Maari Jaatre [ last part of the five ]

Maari jaatre in Sagara is held once in three years. It is a fortnight long festivities in honour of the town deity - Maarikamba, mother who slays all evil. Maari is worshiped by all castes of Hindus and hence the festival gets the support of one and all in the neighbouring hundreds of villages. Since it is election year, quite a few ticket aspirants seem to have let the money flow freely so that they could get as much publicity as possible during the jaatre. Hoardings and banners were seen as far as in Shimogga. Although all castes worship the deity, they way they do it different. On the first day of the jaatre, it is the brahmins who do the pooja in the form of elaborate rituals involving some Yajnas and Homas. Very few men known as purohits do the pooja on behalf of all other brahmins. On the subsequent days the other castes do their poojas. Their pooja is more broad based unlike the brahmins. Until recently there was the custom of sacrificing a kona (male buffalo). This year following intense objection from the animal rights organization, it has been toned down a bit. Now only some blood is drawn by doing a small incision. The kona lives to see another day and its stature raises - almost divinity. Usually most of such fairs end with a grand cart pulling ceremony - usually on the last day. However, since we visited the jaatre in the middle of it, we would not know how it is done in Sagara. All these rituals are done in morning and evenings are exclusively for making merry.

In front of the temple there is a stage. Every day, renowned artistes of Karnataka perform for a couple of hours. On Friday, it was the turn famous light music singer MD Pallavi to entertain us. Just when we arrived there, she started the ever so popular "elli jaarito manavu...." We listened to her complete the song... But since the inflow of people to the event was far greater than the number of seats provided, we had to just move on. At the corner of the street, the same was being projected on a huge screen. There was live relay of this through out Sagara on a local cable network. Technology rocks. After the famous artistes, it is the turn of the local talents to show off. School children, and enthusiastic housewives form a handy pool of talents. Add to the natural excitement the anxiety of being on TV... we get a lot of comedy and amidst all that, some really useful exposure for genuine talent.

On one side of the stage was the queue to give offerings to Maarikamba. The queue was running into at least a thousand people. Each one had one set of Hannu-Kai material. It is the traditional offering to the deity consisting of - A coconut, couple of bananas, flowers - usually chrysanthemum or varieties of dahlia, incense sticks, camphor, a packet of Kumkum (vermilion) and turmeric. The coconut is cracked open in front of the deity. Cocunut water forms the base for theertha after being offerered to hte goddess. The banana's skin is peeled just a little as if to make believe that Maari accepted the fruits. Camphor and incense sticks are lighted and circled clockwise in front of the goddess. This is to please Maari with the good scent. After all these, flowers are circled around every thing that is offered and hurled at the feet of the goddess. That completes the offering for one worshiper. The archakas (people who perform the above ritual) are so efficient that the queue of thousand people does not seem stuck at all. After the offering procedure, the Hannu-Kai material becomes prasadam.

The jaatre perimeter starts almost a kilometer from the temple. Vehicles are not allowed in this area - thank fully so. The sheer amount of people simply amazed me. Most of them, like us, were not keen on buying anything - just watching and waiting for anything to catch their eye. The whole road was lined with merchant stalls from all over the country on one side. On the other side of the road are the foodie carts - Bhelpuri, masalapuri, gobi manchurian, churmuri, dosa, chilli bhajji, jilebi, masala papad and what not... Mind you... all these are out side the food court which officially hosts countless other stalls.

So many people, so many conversations happening at the same time... What is a jaatre without whistles and children running around blowing them? whistles and horns of various kinds form the base noise of the jaatre. We bought a dozen of them for each one of our team in Bangalore ;-). Then there is melodious flute by the flute merchant. I know I will not be able to re-create the melody if I bought one. In spite of craving for one, I stayed away. Then there are the cloth merchants calling for people to visiting their stalls - "3 trousers for a hundred", "2 tee for fifty"... "limited stock left"... "only in this jaatre"... and so on. The ice-cream carts (such a permanent fixture in jaatres) were not going to stay quite either... vanila, pista, strawberry, chocolate, "3 cups for ten rupees", "cone for five rupees", "come and taste it, pay only if you like"... The loud speaker every now and then reminds people to be aware of their children and other valuable belongings. Every now and then a Bhadrappa or a Chandre Gowda is requested to come to the information center because their beloved wives have lost track of them (probably they were engrossed in trying out the imitation jewelry too long). I bet the husbands are giving each others a hi-five and eating Davanagere Benne dose together. After a while a little boy went on to report its parents were missing. Amidst all these, I closely followed Vinaya and Sneha making sure I never lose sight of them. I knew how to get back to Vinaya's house... But my geography went for toss under all those disco lights. Every direction looked the same as the other.

I will try an describe some of the stalls to the best of my understanding. The most famous stalls (no surprises there) were those selling toys - all kinds of them. Cheap plastic ones from china have swarmed the market. Cars, buses, trucks, guns, water guns, canon shots, mobile phones and anything that can be made of plastic could be found there - seriously, even chairs, buckets, mugs and other house hold items. I even picked up a Rubick's puzzle for 20 bucks. Haggling is the order of the day. Items can be usually bought at half the initial offer price. Next most popular item for sale was jewelry - imitation of course. For villagers (most of who are BPL) who get to see them once in three years - the excitement is as good as seeing the real ones. Ladies of the house usually get a jaatre grant from the patriarch of the family. Add the year long savings (form rounding off expenses) to it and they have a tidy sum to blown away during the festivities. They use this very judiciously to get all the girls of the family all the decorations they need until the next fair - nail polish, ear-rings, neck-laces, bangles, hair-band, ribbons, fancy clips, bracelets, anklets... Next attraction for the ladies was the guy selling Mehendi stickers, rangoli stencils and other day-to-day items that sell cheaper during the fair. Like always, women start buying even if they do not need it - in the name of "anticipating the future need".

Another item that was popular was the miss-universe beauty crowns. Ah! which little girl can walk away from one? Just like the boys find it very hard to go past the mask guy selling spider-man, bat-man, clown, chucky masks. Women however get glued to the stalls that sell kitchen-ware. Dining sets, coffee-sets, plates, soup-bowls, and a whole lot of other china-ware. China-ware now refers to that they are all "Made-in-china" not that they are "made of porcelain". The handle-with-care tag is now replaced with for-rough-use because are cheap. The college students swarm the poster vendors to pickup portraits of their idols. MS Dhoni seems to be the flavour of the season closely followed by SRK. There were no takers for the posters of Gandhi, or Bose - partly because they are out of fashion, and partly because the painter did a shoddy job. Gandhi was seen laughing as if he just heard a new sardarji joke.

Since there were so many stalls selling boys toys, the doll makers for the little girls did not want to stay behind. Fairies and fancy hats were sold exclusively for the girls. There was one stall just meant for key-chains. Pretty fancy ones. There was the ever popular smiling buddha, the "I love You" heart shaped ones, the cricket bat ones... One could even personalize them by writing names on the key chains. Lastly, the bags... How many bags does one person need? I fail to understand the logic behind such huge collection of bags. There were at least a couple of stores with tens of thousands of bags in each one of them. Are they banking on people shopping beyond their estimated carrying capacity and there by buying more bags? or are the people of Sagara are simply of the "bag loving" kind (- multi baggers)?


The next stop was the food court. There was separate area ear-marked for food vendors. Just like the Bangalore malls, one could buy from any vendors and get it to a common place to eat. Just that the prices were only a fraction of what they would cost in Bangalore. Since Vinaya's mother had fed us really well before we left for the jaatre, the food court failed to attract us. There were a couple of sweetmeat stalls that were selling the signature bendu-battasu-sakkare kaadi. This is a permanent fixture in any fair all across Karnataka. All are made from sugar and some flour - thereby hugely popular with the kids and those with a kid-like heart. Sakkare kaddi means sugar stick... and that is exactly what it is. There is another variety that has a khara kaddi (something like a chakkli), or fried channa dal in the middle. Those are popular among adults since they are not overly sweet.

What fair can be complete without high excitement rides. We took a ride on the huge giant-wheel. It has about 12 cars each capable of seating 4 people. However, no body would be comfortable if more than 2 sat in them. Its costs a nominal Rs25/- per ride. It started out slow and only later slowly picked some speed. I kept praying that the kid in the car above mine did not throw up. He closed his eyes out of fear during the second turn and did not open untill we were done ;-) From the top of the wheel, one could see real the extent of jaatre... the maari gudi, the mout ka kua, and a sky view of all other rides. Only after we got down did we come to know about the accident that happened the previous day at the giant wheel. One of the cars had come off... and two people plummeted to the ground. One did not survive the fall and other was critically injured... The wheel owners had eloped immediately, fearing being lynched by any mob. The wheel was grounded for a day and let to be operational only after a thorough inspection. But how much confidence can one put on these inspections? Had we known this earlier, we may have not ventured on the ride. Truly, ignorance is bliss. Other rides were tora-tora, various merry-go-rounds, trains and so on... net result of all of them would only be cerebral dis-orientation... There was this mout-ka-kua where motor cyclists would dare to ride (and perform antics) on the walls of artificial well. They defy the gravitational force by countering it by the centrifugal force. That is how fast they must be. Since there was a long queue for it and limited excitement for us (all three of engineers who knew the laws of physics) we let it pass.

The fair did not show any signs of winding down at all... but my legs had started to hurt. We had to head back home for dinner. Every night there would be a Yakshagana (folk drama enacting stories from mythology, very famous in coastal and malanad Karnataka) at the Gandhi maidana (= gound). People wander the streets of the fair till midnight and then proceed towards the Yakshagana stage. Typically that lasts till day break next day. Then they catch buses to their respective villages and go home looking to come back in the evening.

One thing was glaringly apparent. No matter what a person worries about at other times, he is oblivious to all such matters at the jaatre. Happiness quotient in a jaatre shoots through the roof. Clearly, you don't need money to be happy.

I may have just one more post if Vinaya reminds me of some thing that I have missed ;-)

Linganamakki Backwaters, Sharavati valley [ part 4 of probably 5 ]

So much traveling on Friday ensured that I slept like a log. We woke up late and had a elaborate breakfast - delicious akki rotti with mast makkan. It was only after that did Vinaya disclose the the plan for the morning. It was not visiting fair (Maari jaatre) but Sharavati back waters. His college friends who arrived at Sagara that morning had the same problems as us during the journey and hence were also late. Add some organizational delays... and it was already 11:30 ish by the time we left home. We picked up Kirana and gang from his home and headed south - the same road we took to Ikkeri. The road is not all that good. Its not too bad either... Its the kind of road that remain in this semi-torn state for ever.

We passed villages after villages before we enter the reserved forest. This is the Sharavati Valley forest. Although it is a reserved forest, one can still see some human habitation. Apparently they are very small villages of five to ten houses. Still, there is good (predictable) bus service to this part of state. We went round AvinahaLLi and reached a place called Hulidevarabana (means - home of the tiger god). Now neither the tiger remains, nor its godly stature - just the name. However, on the same road, a few kilometers earlier, there was a sanctuary which claimed to have a few tigers and lions. At Hulidevarabana, we took a right turn to go towards Holebagilu (means - gate towards the lake). In fact, the place is exactly that. We reached Holebagilu it was already an hour past noon. We had missed the Barge that takes busses and cars to the other side...

For those of you who are wondering what is the big deal about backwaters... A dam is constructed across Sharavati at Linganamakki. The main purpose of the dam is generation of hydro electricity that powers half of Karnataka. Once the dam is constructed, it means that River practically flows or not entirely on human will. This storage of water inundates vast areas of land. Lot of people have to vacate their homes and businesses. On paper, they are relocated. But in most cases the destination is only nothing more than a promise. I had heard, read, seen movies, about the pain that the displacement of people that inevitably happens when a dam/reservoir is constructed. I had seen the backwaters on the map - a big blue coral like shape. But none of those helped in guessing the size of this thing. Its huge... extremely huge. What you see in the picture (first from top), is just a narrow streak of water body formed at the the perimeter of the storage area in between two hills (range). This reservoir has submerged thousands of villages containing fertile farm land - thereby adversely affecting the farmers. It has swallowed up acres and acres of forest land. Even now, one can see half submerged dead trees that once stood proudly over all their neighbours... It is almost as if they are in denial that their land is no longer land but water. People on the other hand have moved on and tried to build their lives all over again. But i guess, they are feeling just the same.

Ok, we had missed the barge - and thankfully so. If we had not, we would be stuck on the other side because the barge would not return until the bus (scheduled to come more than an hour later) from other side arrived. Perhaps before the dam was built, there would have a road connecting places like Nittur (famous by the Ninasam) and Sagara. But now, one has to either take the barge or take a round about road. Since we missed the barge, we had ample time to take lot of photos. Almost every body had a digital camera and we went on a clicking frenzy. At the deeper side of the river (can i still call it a river, now that it is no longer flowing?) we saw a school of fish like creatures moving as a group. I had seen such organized swimming only on TV - that too only in deep see fishes. There was enough confusion as to whether they were fish or tadpoles. After about an hour, we finally got tired of shooting. Finally we headed back.

At Hulidevarabana, we took a right to go visit another beautiful spot called Hasirumakki. Barge here would take us to the road leading to Kollur. So to say, it is no different from Holebagilu. But lesser number of people know this place and hence was more peaceful. Since it was dry season, we drove across the river bed to go to the another side of the lagoon. By then, it was way past lunch time and all us were very very hungry. We quickly devoured 4 different kinds of rotis (akki rotti, jolada rotti soft, and two kinds of hard rotti) with at least five-six different kinds of side dishes. I really lost track of their names half way through.. each one of them was as pleasing and stimulating to the tongue as the other. We had fresh and ripe papaya, sweet chikku and banana for dessert. The drive back was spent listening to eternal classics "DTPH" and "KKHH" and over analyzing the photos taken...

How to reach Holebagilu and Hasirumakki?
Hope you do have access to google maps. Sagara-HoleBagilu and Hulidevarabana-Hasirumakki.

Keladi - Sagara [part 3 of a few]

Next stop in Sagara sight-seeing is the original capital of the Nayakas - Keladi [ಕೆಳದಿ](see previous post to know who the Nayakas are). Its about 12 Kms from the town's center towards North. Once you get out the town, the road is almost deserted. The scenery along the way alternates between beetle nut plantations and forests with acacia trees. Among other things, this tree is used to make paper. It requires very less attention and grows very fast. But like Eucalyptus, it comes with a exclusivity clause. Not many other plants can be grown in its vicinity. So, people here and in my home town of Kota jumped on this opportunity to earn some extra money and started growing acacia in most of their non-arable land. The monetary intent may or may not have worked out. It sure has made the region more greener. The plantations on the other hand need very fertile land, ample irrigation and lot of care. Hence, once can see them only near the villages - closer to human habitation. Along with beetle nut people grow pepper, plantains, beetle leaves. Cashew and Jack fruit trees are also popular. However, they are grown usually for domestic consumption only.

Where is Keladi?

The temple at Keladi

12 Kms of peaceful driving leads us to the Keladi temple. This temple has two compounds. The outer one seems to be more recently built by the archeology department (which maintains a museum). Inside the inner compound, there is no grass (unlike Ikkeri), only coarse granite - like the ones we find on side walks of Old Bengaluru. The temple has two shrines - Narasimha (half lion - half man incarnation of Vishnu) and Eshawara. That leaves any historian confused as to whether the Keladi kings were Vaishnavites or Shaivites. AFAIK, there was considerable animosity between the two and hence a single temple for both Gods has to either be a compromise or a speciality.

The inside of the temple

The ceiling

Outside the main building is the Garudagamba, a traditional minaret found in South Indian temples. On top of this minaret, there is a small idol of Nandi - perhaps a Shaivite influence. As we enter the temple, the first thing that strikes is the ceiling. The carvings here are not on stone, but wood - very nicely polished wood. Although, they have withstood the test of centuries, they may not last long if proper care is not taken. Be it wood or stone, the intricacies of the carvings amazes any visitor equally. As we move to the adjacent shrine (that of Narasimha), the ceiling is back to stone carvings. But has another surprise for us. The double headed eagle has been the emblem of KSRTC since ever. Now we know where they got it from.

Gandaberunda - KSRTC

Some interesting idols/carvings
The pillars and walls of the temple have numerous stories to tell from mythology. There are a few that are interestingly obscure. For instance there is this idol of Shiva (in human form) and Parvati on the customary pedestal of a Linga. According to mythology, Lord Shiva was cursed not to be worshiped in any 'human' form. There is another half made carving that has idols of Hindu gods on their respective animal rides - prototype of an ancient temple complex? What is this Chinese looking guy doing? There was one carving with a bunch of monkeys - monkeying around. There is a sheep man with his hands folded as if in prayer. I do not know any reference to any such creature in Hindu mythology. There are these mysterious horsemen found in Ikkeri also. The two lizards sizing each other up is present here also. Conspicuously missing are the dancing damsels. All in all, the intrigue continues.

Outside the main shrines, here is a Veeragallu and a Mastikallu. Veeragallu is a stone carving that narrates a heroic death of a warrior in a battle. Mastikallu is an epitaph glorifying the death of a Sati - wife who jumps into the funeral pyre along with her husband. A Mastikallu usually has three images. At bottom, there is a depiction of how the lady lived her life. The center image is a picture of companions preparing her Sati. The topmost image shows her worshiping her favorite god (in this case Lord Shiva). This is to show that she has already attained salvation. Veeragallu usually has only two images. The bottom image is a war scene glorifying the fight. The top image shows the warrior with God. The tradition of Mastikallu and Veergallu is very own to Karnataka and not found else where (at least in this format).

Mastikallu and Veeragallu

Outside the temple, one can find a two room museum. It has a sizable collection of items ranging from - royal proclamations, certificates, dresses, manuscripts, coins, weapons, measuring vessels, paintings, maps, portraits and so on. There was one painting that caught my eye (read wrath) - It depicted the Queen of England wearing a dress which was made up of maps of all her colonies. This changed my entire perception of the Keladi Kings. Whose side were they on? The mysterious horse men could well be Brits... Irrespective of loyalty of Keladi Kings, the museum needs to be more professional. The manuscripts are stocked in pathetic condition. I am not even sure if any ONE has ever gone through them. Who knows what knowledge is hidden in those palm leaves?

How to reach Keladi?
Please click HERE to see the route on Google maps.

Ikkeri - Sagara [part 2 of some]

Ikkeri is about 4-5 Kms from Sagara depending on which end of Sagara are you at and which route you take to go out of the city. The traffic arrangements for the fair meant that we had to take the Sagara Outer Ring Road to get out of Sagara. Detailed map on the right. Ikkeri used to be the capital of Keladi Nayakas for some time. Keladi Nayakas were subordinate kings to the Vijayanagara emperors. As the empire fell into the hands of the Sultans, some of the subordinates declared independence. They provided good governance until being railed in by Hyder Ali and subsequently by the Brits. What remains now is just a glorious temple.

Where is Ikkeri?

Aghoreshwara temple, Ikkeri

Lush green lawn
Once we enter the temple compound, we were welcomed by one of the best maintained lawns that I have seen in quite some time. It was pleasing, both to eyes to the feet. The good lawns in Bengaluru often come with the "Don't walk on grass" tag.
The main deity of the temple is Aghoreshwara. It is one of the several names of Lord Shiva. It means 'the lord of 14th night of the darker half of Bhadrapada month' to signify some noble act (probably slaying of some demon) performed by Shiva on that night. But outside the door of every temple for Lord Shiva, there has to be Nandi, the divine bull and Lord Shiva's ride. The bull always squats with its front leg bent to form a loop. It is a belief that if one can crawl below the leg, his wishes will all come true. In spite of it being so tempting, I passed the opportunity of seeing all my dreams made true by divine intervention.

Nandi, the bull - ride of Lord Shiva

Damsels (inside and outside)
Inside the temple, the roof is supported by majestic stone pillars with beautiful carvings. The center four pillars form four corners of a stage where perhaps the temple dancers danced during any religious congregations. The temple has chequered windows on the northern side that lets in the gentle nothernly sunlight at this time of the year. I can only imagine how wonderful the temple would have looked when the setting sun creates mesmerizing patterns through the windows. A little later, the light from oil wicks would take over and the loud chants of the mantras glorifying Lord Shiva would fill the air. How could anybody escape such mysticism? On either side of the entrance to the sanctum sanctorum, stand damsels guarding the entrance. Similar damsels also feature on wither side of the main entrance too. There is a Ganapathi statue to the left of the sanctum sanctorum as in every Shaivite temple. Although the temple is neat and tidy, the lack of professional 'archeological' maintenance is glaringly apparent.

Soldiers (Brits, Sultans or Hyder Ali?)

Outside the main temple, is the temple of Akhilandeshwari (sorry if I got the name wrong, it is another name for Parvati - wife of Lord Shiva). I do not understand why madam's temple is outside the main temple. Lord Shiva has this weird habit. At times, he is the most rigorous vairagi practising detachment towards everything - even his own wife. At other times, he is known to internalize his wife to become Ardhanareeshwara (half him, half her). This temple looks pretty ordinary to until one notices the pillars - actually the horse riders on the pillars. Who are they? One of them definitely looks like a Brit and another one looks like a Muslim invader. If he were a Brit, do the dates add up? I have never heard Brits featuring in any other temple. They were busy to building Churches and Missionaries. More unlikely that iconoclast Muslims would like to be featured on a temple pillar. It is possible that some artisans may have sneaked this in return to a favor from a Brit or a Bahamani sultan or even later to Hyder Ali? Any which way you see it, it is amusing to see some thing out of the ordinary.

Outside the compound of the temple is government mint (tankashaale) of Keladi kingdom. Even though the mint is long gone, it still attracts greedy believers who hope to unearth some gold coins during rainy season.

How to reach Ikkeri:
If you have access to Internet (duh!!) please click HERE to see the route from Sagara to Ikkeri on Google maps. Refer to my previous post to reach Sagara from Bengaluru.

Thanks Vinaya for being a wonderful guide.