Travelogue-3 - Final: Shivamogga, local visits, puja at home, departure mode

After more than ten hours of ride in Tempo Traveller each way during our trip to Kerala, everyone was delighted to take train to Shivamogga from Yeshvantpur. We decided to take the Metro rather than engage two cabs. Rush hour Bangalore traffic is just unpredictable. Besides, the Sundaram household is not known for stepping out on time.

This said, we were one of the firsts to be in the compartment. Even the Chair Car air-conditioning was switched on much later. Our co-travellers were from Hennur – elderly parents, daughter in law and her two-year old son, Advaith. The elderly lady gave up her seat with her husband to be next to Aunty to engage herself in conversation. Aunty was no less happy. The lady recommended some restaurants and places to visit. In between the chat she offered us some eatables from her bag. Alas, we had to decline - our own stock was lying unavailed.

When we went our ways at Shivamogga station, she sent back her daughter in law to us waiting for our Innova. She, a native of Shivamogga, gave me her mobile number and asked me to ring her just in case we encountered any problems. So nice of the family.

During our three-day stay the places we visited included Jog Falls, Lions Park, Sakkarebailu, and a few historical places. We had to cancel Sigandur temple. It would have been a fun for grandsons to cross the ferry. A festival was going on, and it would mean three or four hours of delay. 

Jog falls was simply breathtaking, more so during monsoon. No wonder it is one of the best in India. Despite intermittent rains and brisk 600-crore project work going on to make it world class, the crowd was no less.

As for the Lions park, I had seen Gir Forest, National Park in Bannerghatta, and few others. But it is only here that we had close encounters with lions and tigers – of course from inside our safe safari vans.

Though meant for children, everyone enjoyed the Sakkarebailu elephant camp. A herd of elephants is brought from inside the forest sanctuary every morning and given bath. One can give bath to an elephant on payment. Rohan chose to do so, though the mahut did the major brushing job to get deeper into the elephant’s thick skin.

As though to compensate for the Sigandur temple-visit cancellation, we made an unscheduled stopover at Hosahalli (not the one leading to SFV), the only-Sanskrit-spoken-village in India. It was my wish that I should visit it one day, and I was glad I could. When we went around the village it was silent – either the householders were busy inside doing their japam, or the ladies preparing the day’s lunch. Nonetheless we could hear some conversations from inside some houses. At the end of the village was Tunga (or Tungabadra?) river, in spate. Only the daredevils would venture to go near. 

Back in Bangalore, it was time to fulfil social outings – to visit friends and relatives. Earlier we had planned to host a lunch at home where we could meet all in one go. But most of them were out of station. So, we visited the ones around. 

It’s time to give their India-visit a fitting finale. So, a la Hollywood or Bollywood movies where the Don passes the baton to the heir apparent, we let Shankar and Sunita perform Bhagavat Sevai (Devi puja held in Aadi masam, mostly in Kerala). A past master in this, the Sastri ji did a good job. Also, we were lucky that an untried caterer we had engaged for prasadam and a light dinner, gave a good account of himself to qualify for future assignments.

Now the inevitable - the departure mode. We dug out the weighing machine from the attic, dusted it so that when the packing is over, they could weigh them. Son is busy attending to online checking and changing seats to a row nearer the exit gate so that they could rush to get the next flight with the limited layover they have at their disposal. From my side I have already engaged Akram to drop them at the airport. Grandsons were doing their own packing. “How come?” I asked. “Yes Thatha, it is all the more necessary,” they said a little loudly for their parents to listen, “because hereafter every summer Rohan and I will come to Bangalore on our own, regardless of whether Amma-Appa are able to make it.” “Most welcome either way, my boys,” I reassured them. 

Travelogue 2: Palakkad, Guruvayoor and back

Babu topped up diesel before halting at Palakkad for the day. Can’t guess if the Tamil diesel rate was cheaper or he wanted to save time for the umpteen temple visits in Kerala the next day. Rohan decided to use the restroom at the petrol pump. I asked him how it was. “Horrible Thatha, just a hole in the ground!”. Curious, I went to check it out for myself. Stepping in, I saw his “hole in the ground” - the Indian style toilet!

Our journey continued through Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala. As we approached Palakkad, I requested Babu to slow down. “On our left is the school I studied, and on the right my college,” I pointed to my grandsons. “Such old buildings?” quipped the younger. “Yes, I studied there 65 years ago kiddo, and these looked just as old even then” I clarified. “Just off the cuff statement; nothing personal, Thatha,” hastened the elder defending his younger brother.

After some rest at Krishna Garden Homestay, I helped both grandsons to tie dhoti for the temple visits. “Thatha you are ‘strangling’ my waist.  It’s too tight,” complained Rohan. “No beta, just wanted to ensure the dhoti doesn’t disown and embarrass you in public.” “Come on Thatha, I am not a child.” 

We went to two Devi temples. After darshan at the first, we rushed to the second where the curtains had already been drawn for the final deeparadhana of the day. I saw Rohan observing the carvings around minutely.  “Thatha, why is it so carved that the poor tortoise is made to bear on its back the weight of the huge six-storeyed brass lamp?” “I will tell you later,” I said. “Never mind Thatha, I will check it myself in Google,” he quipped. 

It was already 8.30 pm, and our sole worry was not to go to bed on an empty stomach because Kerala hotels are not known for staying open late hours. We telephoned the ‘Taste of Kalpathy’. “Come before 8.45,” they replied. At such last minutes the fare is either nothing or take-it-all. That rainy night it was the latter.  So, each plate was served in overflowing quantity – be it the main dish Sevai or the accompanying solid chutney, sambar or, as bonus, ‘masala’ of puri-masala.

Next morning we drove to Hariharaputra restaurant for breakfast. The proprietor took no time to guess we were ‘outsiders’.  On knowing we were from Bangalore, he sat beside us and said his grand-daughter too stayed in JP Nagar. “Where in JP Nagar,” I asked. In “Brigade Gardenia,” he replied. “Her name?” He responded. Aunty was quick to say, “Oh I know them; with two children: … and ….” “Yes, but how come you know them?” he asked, getting curious. “They stay in my brother’s son’s apartment,” I responded. A small world, but not enough to attract any discount on the bill.

We then drove to Atirapally, the “the Niagara falls of India”. Good we went during monsoon; the falls were in full blast, though the path to the final point was a little slippery. Grandsons got very close to the permitted area and took snaps. Nature’s bountiful in full display.

We checked in at Guruvayoor hotel, and after a while, headed to the temple. Grandsons waited for their turn for Tulabharam (the devotee offers himself to the Lord by offering one’s weight of materials like jaggery, coconuts, etc.) They were very excited sitting cross-legged on the weighing scale with folded hands, eyes closed and be weighed. Soon after darshan the boys rushed to the elephants waiting at one side chewing their food (the coconut tree branches), before they were bedecked and taken for temple procession. 

After a satisfying Kerala trip, we drove straight back to Bangalore.  Home sweet home, we said as we entered.

(Final: Shivamogga, local visits/shopping, puja at home, departure mode)

Note: Photo/video uploaded courtesy Shankar

Travelogue – Son and family from USA

Yes, the much looked-forward-to visit of our elder son and family did come through. Their plan to do so a year ago had to be cancelled at the last minute. Better late than never - or, it’s never too late? Too bad, our younger son and family could not join, to turn it into a family reunion. Never mind. Their visit later will give us, parents, yet another opportunity to be on top of the world.

Akram, the trusted Innova Crysta owner with a host of SFVian customers under his wrap for airport pick-up or drop, drove them home, giving me a tinkle on reaching SLV. Left to herself, Aunty would have received them with Aarati, but it was way past midnight. 

Ashwin, now 6’2”, and Rohan keen to surpass Thatha’s (read: my) height, were overjoyed at setting their foot in this home for the first time. They had visited us earlier in Hebbal. Shankar and Sunita haven’t changed much since we returned from US early this year. Shankar was happy to be relieved from his 18-hour a day schedule more in the wake of merger and acquisition of his division by another giant firm. Sunita, no less, because she no longer had to catch up with the ‘product release’ event every Friday evening. And us parents, we are happier than ever.

Plans had been drawn well in advance for their entire stay, leaving very few ‘rest’ days. To be on the move is in itself a change, and that is what they have come here for, not to speak of the restaurants we had short-listed. 

For six persons Innova Cyrsta (7+1) is more than enough. But we decided to engage Babu’s 12-seater Tempo Traveller, (whom we engaged for Sakleshpur trip) for the simple reason that the two 6’2” (father and elder son) could stretch their legs and travel in comfort while others can shuffle seats as often as they want. 

The sky was overcast. What else do you expect on a monsoon morning? Fear engulfed our mind that the first leg of our travel – to Guruvayoor – will be rain-hit. But we were armed with six umbrellas – three our own, and three from neighbour Hari – that was sure to protect our head if not the rest of the body. Something is better than nothing. Luckily, taking up duty travel elsewhere those three days, the Rain God spared us. We stopped at Sri Krishna Inn in Krishnaraja Puram for breakfast, after debating whether to repeat this for the n’th time or try Murugan Idli nearby which a few spoke equally highly of.

Ragu, my friend in Brigade Palmsprings, had forced upon me earlier his spare mobile suggesting that it might come handy for Shankar or Sunita to carry with them so that they are not mobile-less for any contact. He had subscribed to You Tube ad-free limitless music. You name the song, and it will play. I tried some of the less known but haunting songs of the 1950s, and lo there they were. Thus it was free for all – Sunita wanting Carnatic music, Enthoru Mahanu bhava…; Shankar current Hindi songs of Arijit Singh. Ashwin and Rohan plugged in airpods to be in their own unhindered world. Aunty waited with baited breath for her turn to listen to Tamil movie songs replete with meaningful lyrics: “Ninaithathaellam nadandhu vittaal…. I took a back seat for my old Hindi songs . Tum na jaane kis Jahan mein khogaye…, Guzrahua zamana atta nahin dubara… or Tu pyar ka sagar hai…

Time for lunch. We just bumped into a hotel unsure of the quality. I asked a man who just stepped out: “How was the food?” “Good for the area we live,” and started off his bike. It was indeed more than what we had expected.

Alas, here we are already on the threshold of Palakkad, our scheduled halt for the day.

(Next: Palakkad stay, Visit to Guruvayoor, and back)