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.