tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61789287127646789092024-03-13T18:12:17.560+05:30Agonies And EcstasiesBeauty is to be seen and enjoyed... not to be meddled withAgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-13357484210288371492009-11-30T13:14:00.005+05:302011-06-10T20:57:04.530+05:30Agumbe - Heaven on earth<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Agumbe is a small village located in Thirthahalli taluk, Shimoga district in Karnataka. Snugly nestled in the Western Ghats (Malnad region) this village is famous for more than one reason. It receives the second highest annual rainfall in India, next only to Cherrapunji; hence the sobriquet “Cherrapunji of the South”. The Sunset view point, at a height of 825 mts above sea level, is world famous and attracts visitors from all over. </span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Western Ghats is considered as one of the bio-diversity hotspots of the world. Agumbe, being located in the Western Ghats, more than justifies that tag. Many new species of flora and fauna have been discovered here. The place infact lends it’s name to some of them discovered and they include plants, shrubs, fungus, a fly and a spider. Just as an example the spider has been named Selenops agumbensis. A few other plants and a beetle too have been discovered here which have been named agumbensis. That should be an indication enough to the bio-diversity richness of this place. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Agumbe has the distinction of being the only location in India which can boast of a permanent rainforest research station. Established by the well known herpetologist Mr. Romulus Whitaker, the research station has a main goal of studying and conserving rainforests of South India. Mr. Whitaker, in 1970s, spotted the King Cobra here in this area and hence uses it as the flagship species for his research station. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Add to this a Medicinal plants conservation area established in the year 1999. There are as many as 182 plant species here identified as medicinal out of 371. Sadly some of them are red listed, meaning they are endangered. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Is it even possible to forget the… Oh!!! so lovable Swamy of “Malgudi days”, a teleserial which became a household name. This teleserial, directed by Shankar Nag, was shot in none other than this very place. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">If I were to dig a little more I am sure I can find many more wonderful things about this truly bewitching beauty of the Western Ghats. However, with reluctance I now proceed towards recounting my latest trip to Agumbe.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I haven’t even mentioned anything about the bevy of waterfalls in and around Agumbe and that is what compelled us to visit this place. Kunchikal falls, Barkana falls, Kudlu teertha, Jogi gundi, Onake Abbi falls, Jomlu teertha and a host of others including the ones which have not been named. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The plan was to visit as many of these as possible. Despite it being November the un-seasonal rains threatened to upset our plans and they did. The richness of this place is such that inspite of not being able to stick to our plans we had a truly memorable time. Let me now get down to the specifics of the trip.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">14th and 15th November, 2009 were the two days ear-marked for our visit to Agumbe. My contact, Mr Sudheendra, in Agumbe had informed me that it is raining. It wasn’t enough to stop us though. So on 13th night we took the bus to Agumbe. Reaching there early morning at around 7.00 am we checked into the hotel. We were ready in no time and waiting for Sudheendra. His arrival did not really bring good news. The rains could make an appearance any time he said. With this in mind and after a short discussion we decided that we would head for Sirimane falls near Sringeri. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was still pretty early when our guide and driver Ganesh dropped us off at Sirimane waterfalls. I didn’t realize we were the first visitors of the day when I bought the entrance tickets. As I started climbing down the steps my soul suddenly soared at the sight of the magnificent falls. Eyes wide, feet rooted and mouth agape I stared at the water cascading down the rocks. Add to it the fact that there was no one just made the scene absolutely stunning. The next few seconds were a blur. Once I reached the end of the steps I just stood and tried to let it sink in. It did not take long for me to be under the water. After the previous night’s bus journey it was sheer bliss to be standing under the cold water hurtling down with enough force to drive away the blues and the aches & pains from the aging bones. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Was it 10 mins? Was it half an hour? Or had it been more than that? I really don’t know and I don’t really care. I hadn’t felt this good in a long long time. Even the presence of a family of 4 did not deter me from enjoying the natural massage from the waterfalls. With reluctance I finally stepped out of the water and the crowd began to appear and swell. Armed with my camera I tried my best to capture as much of the beauty of the place as possible.</span></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHrbgtngI/AAAAAAAACNs/2YzVuxEJ9Lg/s1600/A046.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHrbgtngI/AAAAAAAACNs/2YzVuxEJ9Lg/s320/A046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409816757591186946" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We were just a few minutes away from the famous Sringeri temple. Ganesh dropped us off in front of the temple. After the darshan of Goddess we wandered around, spent a few minutes watching the fishes in the river and then decided it was time for lunch as the time spent in the water had made us very hungry. Simple yet delicious food for lunch meant that we were now exhausted from eating too much. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Making our way back to Agumbe we decided we will go to either Barkana viewpoint or Onake abbi falls. The dark clouds in the sky looked ominous. Jogi gundi it would be we decided. Within a few minutes of walking through the woods the soothing sounds of water could be heard. After the spectacular experience at Sirimane falls it was a completely different feeling that greeted us at Jogi gundi. It was calm, silent and serene. The presence of three youngsters enjoying themselves did very little to blemish the serenity of this place. </span></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHp1PD2LI/AAAAAAAACNM/8MiLy1fRYOY/s1600/A003.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHp1PD2LI/AAAAAAAACNM/8MiLy1fRYOY/s320/A003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409816730136729778" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Climbing up a rock we managed to see the water gushing through rocks. This is not visible from below and it was a nice sight to see the water making it’s way through the rocks and settle down into a nice little pond below. It was interesting to watch spiders and their webs between the rocks. We did not spend too much time here and we were on our way back pretty soon. Just as well. The lure of world famous Agumbe Sunset was too strong. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Elements of nature had different plans altogether. Sipping a hot cup of coffee we witnessed the heavens open up. There was no way we could now go to the Sunset view point. Holed up in the hotel we reminisced about the days events and were very happy that we were indeed able to do all the things that we did. Just then a green grasshopper caught my eye as it gingerly made it's way on top of the railing as the rains came down heavily. </span></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHqRO57lI/AAAAAAAACNU/Y09EfxOXBZQ/s1600/A004.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOHqRO57lI/AAAAAAAACNU/Y09EfxOXBZQ/s320/A004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409816737652272722" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was decided to go to Kundadri hills early next morning to see the Sunrise. During my previous visits I had been to this place in the afternoons and it was going to be different this time around. I was eager to witness the Sunrise at this place as I had heard a lot about it from the local people. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Ready and eager we got into the car that would take us to Kundadri hills. When we reached it was still dark and we made our way up the few steps to the top of the hill. A Jain temple dating back to the 17th century stood majestically overlooking the valley. The valley.... ? I wondered where the valley I had seen during my previous visits was. All I could see was a sea of white clouds. Mesmerized I drank in the magnificent sight in the pre dawn twilight. </span></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLN7QzBCI/AAAAAAAACN0/RMUrgH8R314/s1600/A060.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLN7QzBCI/AAAAAAAACN0/RMUrgH8R314/s320/A060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409820648764802082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">There was another group which had come to witness the early morning magic. Patiently we stood with our cameras ready. It was soon evident that the clouds were not going to allow us to enjoy the Sunrise. Disappointment writ large on our faces about having missed watching the Sunrise we strolled around. The sight of the white fluffy clouds hanging between us and the ground 3200 feet below however made up for it. We spent a few minutes at the pond where one can find huge fishes of different colors. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">If we wanted to go to Koodlu teertha we had to get going and we did. Arriving back at Agumbe we were greeted with some bad news. Because of the heavy rains the previous day the path to Koodlu teertha had become treacherous. We were told that an army of leeches had surfaced and were ready to attack any being which dared to venture into their territory. Quickly finishing breakfast we contemplated on our options for the rest of the day. As we strolled along for a nice early morning walk we discussed whether we still should risk going to Koodlu teertha or should we do Onake abbi. However the visuals of an army of leeches strewn along the paths to these places prompted us to consider other options too. The sight of a vibrantly colored flower distracted us for a few minutes as did the sweet calls of birds.</span></span><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLOQgLFmI/AAAAAAAACN8/3_VcUIvQQ4Y/s1600/A024.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLOQgLFmI/AAAAAAAACN8/3_VcUIvQQ4Y/s320/A024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409820654466438754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">My friend who is very much into literature was as eager as me if not more to visit Kuppalli, Rashtrakavi Kuvempu’s village. Having made up our mind we decided to take the bus to Teerthahalli and from there another bus to Kuppalli. It was almost as if the buses knew of our plans and we didn’t even have to spend a few minutes waiting for them. Finally when we got off the bus on the main road and we started our 2 kms walk to Kuppalli. Just as we came off a bend in the road something bright red in color on one of the trees caught my attention. As we neared I could not help but take a few photographs of it.</span></span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLO_6YFVI/AAAAAAAACOE/_OAlfJhiiLA/s1600/A027.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLO_6YFVI/AAAAAAAACOE/_OAlfJhiiLA/s320/A027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409820667192808786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I have seen many a scare-crows in my life. What I saw in one of the fields along the way though made me whip out my camera to take a photograph of it.</span></span><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLPN-wkII/AAAAAAAACOM/NkOvsgSoRyY/s1600/A072.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLPN-wkII/AAAAAAAACOM/NkOvsgSoRyY/s320/A072.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409820670969286786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We then proceeded and reached the house where Kuvempu was born and brought up. The original house which was built from bricks and mud had been razed to the ground and a new structure built in it’s place. They have maintained the original plan though. Even the wooden pillars are the old ones. Walking through this house which has now been converted into a museum evoked a sense of pride in me. The household articles, photos of the family and friends, awards and certificates bestowed upon Kuvempu and even a few locks of his hair make this place a wonderful experience. The few glimpses into his life one gets to see remains etched in memory for a long time. One addition I found this time around was the statue of Kuvempu which had been installed in the garden.</span></span><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLPflvr3I/AAAAAAAACOU/C6mm7POwSZU/s1600/A029.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOLPflvr3I/AAAAAAAACOU/C6mm7POwSZU/s320/A029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409820675696209778" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A shop next to his house was where we quenched our thirst and devoured some snacks before trudging along to Kavishyla. This is the place where Kuvempu used to spend a lot of time alone and also with his friends. It takes just a split second to realize why these eminent giants of the literary world spent long hours at this place. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Stone slabs artistically arranged as arches and gateways lend a unique touch to this place. A simple arrangement of stones marks the final resting place of this giant of a man of the literary world. Nearby is the final resting place of his son Mr Poornachandra Tejasvi who was no less a giant with his exploits not only in the literary world but also in many other fields like environment protection and photography.</span></span><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOTRoNfc1I/AAAAAAAACOc/zcIdslcBssE/s1600/A030.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOTRoNfc1I/AAAAAAAACOc/zcIdslcBssE/s320/A030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409829508463162194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Having spent time to our heart’s content we started our way back only to be stopped in our tracks. It started raining cats and dogs. A small thatched structure came to our rescue.<br /></span></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOTSIkx9qI/AAAAAAAACOk/UN0azax7_yI/s1600/A033.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SxOTSIkx9qI/AAAAAAAACOk/UN0azax7_yI/s320/A033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409829517150779042" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A group of young school kids and their teacher who had come there for a visit too took shelter here. Till the rains abated I spent my time observing these kids and what a wonderful time it was. Their innocence was evident in all it’s glory. Their repartees to each other’s comments were laced with an ample amount of naughtiness. When one of the kids refused to dry his hair a girl went up to him and forcefully dried his hair with her veil. Only later when she called his name did I realize he was a muslim kid and she was a hindu. How much time will take for our elders to corrupt these young pure beautiful minds? I shudder at the thought of how such pure feelings of care and affection for each are going to be destroyed. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We walked back to the main road once the rains stopped. It was a long wait and a few birds kept me running around while we kept craning our necks and ears for the arrival of the bus which would take us to Teerthahalli. Finally the bus arrived and after another long wait we boarded the bus to Agumbe. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We went to the hotel for a hot cup of coffee and the owner informed us that it had rained very heavily and there was abundant proof all around of it. During the conversation he asked if we were leaving the same night. I responded in the affirmative and he asked if we were taking the 8.00 pm bus. I said we were leaving by the 10.00 pm bus. He was surprised and said there is only one bus which leaves at 8.00. My heart skipped a beat and frantically searched for the bus ticket. Voila!!! It was indeed the 8.00 pm bus.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hearts racing we hurried back to the hotel to pack and settle the bill. Thankfully we had ample time to do all this. After a quick dinner we finally settled down in the bus for our journey back to Bangalore. Thus ended an eventful trip to Agumbe. But not before a promise of visiting this place once again in the near future.<br /><br />To see all the photos <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Agumbe">Click Here</a><br /></span></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-19500020657762204172009-10-20T10:38:00.002+05:302009-10-20T10:55:36.115+05:30Shivanasamudra<div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >On 27th September 2009 we visited the Jayamangali (Maidenahalli) blackbuck sanctuary. I decided against writing a blog about this trip for the simple reason that not even a single blackbuck was seen. Call it bad timing or bad luck, the fact remains that to see the blackbucks another trip will have to be made. It was an eventful drive though considering the birds we spotted and the glorious sunset we saw. Add to that a fatal accident that claimed three lives on the spot on the Tumkur road forcing us to take a detour added some unwanted spice to our journey. </span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Maidenahalli#">Click here</a> for the photos.</span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >We had waited for a long time for the long weekend of the first week of October. Meticulous planning and bookings had been done to visit the Ranebennur blackbuck sanctuary and Chitradurga fort. The floods in northern part of Karnataka and Andhra however forced us to alter our plans. </span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Certain people (including people in responsible positions) have attributed this disaster to the wrath of Gods and Goddesses. I am at loss for words to react to such comments and opinions. It is indeed depressing to see the situation we have put ourselves into. Avarice in the name of progress and development is making us pay a heavy price. If this continues, before long the wrath of Mother Nature is going to usurp and destroy all that exists.</span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Enough of my ramblings, now back to Shivanasamudra. Err… we haven’t even started have we? Well, on 2nd October with the disappointment of not being able to stick to our plans of going to Ranebennur Blackbuck Sanctuary and Chitradurga weighing heavily in our hearts we set off to Shivanasamudra. Kanakpura road it was yet again. </span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Stopping for birds and butterflies again without worrying about the time felt good. At a small hillock where we went chasing birds we were denied an opportunity to capture them on camera but we were happy to be given an opportunity to click this little guy sitting smugly on a leaf.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JEfPh3-I/AAAAAAAAB60/ntyHbWy01VY/s1600-h/A004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JEfPh3-I/AAAAAAAAB60/ntyHbWy01VY/s320/A004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548270114660322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >As we continued our journey we were treated to a wonderful soothing sight of green fields along the way. There were a few people working in the fields and it was a nice sight to watch. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JEnb1DxI/AAAAAAAAB68/RluUhKVP1l4/s1600-h/A009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JEnb1DxI/AAAAAAAAB68/RluUhKVP1l4/s320/A009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548272313732882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >As expected a huge crowd was thronging the Gaganachukki waterfalls. Threading our way through the crowd we descended the steps to the viewpoint. Above the din of the crowd the sounds of the falls reached us effortlessly. That sure is an indicator to the amount of water in the falls. It was nice to see so much water especially after getting to see only the rocks during a couple of visits in the past. As the water rushed over the edge, inspite of the force, it reminded me of a shy maiden trying to cover her face with a beautiful white veil. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JFCfqMwI/AAAAAAAAB7E/3RELkODk1sA/s1600-h/A011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JFCfqMwI/AAAAAAAAB7E/3RELkODk1sA/s320/A011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548279577555714" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Having spent some time we decided to skip going to the other side where the Dargah is. So off we went to Bharachukki. There is a bridge across the river along the way to Bharachukki. A few birds caught our attention and we stopped. As we walked along the bridge it was a little scary to feel the vibrations every time a vehicle went by. It felt as if the bridge would just collapse any minute. The birds were far away and we could not get a good enough look at them. Walking back to our bike I noticed something on a plant leaf. At first I thought it was dead only to realize that this bug came with it’s own shield. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JFkxfuiI/AAAAAAAAB7M/-_ztIP7W4W8/s1600-h/A024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JFkxfuiI/AAAAAAAAB7M/-_ztIP7W4W8/s320/A024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548288779172386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >The number of vehicles parked was an indicator to the number of people at Bharachukki. While walking down the steps it we could see the garbage strewn around by the visitors. The sight was enough to deter us from going all the way down to the water. The sight of the waterfalls was at it’s enticing best though.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JGCshlBI/AAAAAAAAB7U/FMsxnP-ttfY/s1600-h/A029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JGCshlBI/AAAAAAAAB7U/FMsxnP-ttfY/s320/A029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548296811385874" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >A small detour took us to a different part of the falls where it was secluded and relatively peaceful and quiet. Just as we reached the edge of the water a man was getting ready to leave. As if in answer to my question what this man was doing I saw fishes in the throes of death wiggling futilely on the rocks. Once he left we sat down to enjoy the waterfalls for some time. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JgSV41aI/AAAAAAAAB7c/RglJmj_w-6g/s1600-h/A037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/St1JgSV41aI/AAAAAAAAB7c/RglJmj_w-6g/s320/A037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394548747688007074" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >A raucous group of youngsters who appeared on the other side soon forced us to wade our way back through the crowd. Pretty soon we were on our way back to Bangalore and I was happy to hear my friend exclaim that it was a good outing. The Shivanasamudra falls washed away the disappointment of our original plan being shelved to an extent.<br /><br />For photos <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Shivanasamudra#">Click Here</a><br /></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-6198876881480410802009-10-05T09:58:00.005+05:302009-10-06T08:06:52.330+05:30To Bekal on a bike<div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">To go for a long bike ride was a long time dream of mine. A holiday on 18th September meant that the long weekend provided the perfect opportunity to realize this dream. Choosing a destination wasn’t difficult. Bekal in God’s own country had been on our To Do list for a long time. However deciding on the route to take gave us enough headaches. The options were to either go via Hassan or go via Mysore-Madikeri. Receiving contradictory pieces of information regarding the state of the roads made matters all the more worse. Finally we decided to take the Hassan route on our way to Bekal and come back via Madikeri-Mysore road. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We started our journey at 2 pm on 17th September. Taking the NICE road from the Bannerghatta road side we reached Magadi town in fairly quick time. Though rains were in the mood for a game of hide and seek it did not hamper our journey much. We continued our journey after a quick stop for a photograph of the remains of a fort built by Kempegowda in Magadi town. In the Markonahalli dam trip report I have mentioned about this.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5bOZHcwI/AAAAAAAABkU/6-hLNIwd-WU/s1600-h/A001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5bOZHcwI/AAAAAAAABkU/6-hLNIwd-WU/s320/A001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388971937752380162" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The plan was to reach Hassan and if possible Sakleshpur before dark. Hence we did not stop for either birds or beautiful sights as is our usual tendency. At the bus stop in front of Adichunchanagiri Institute of Medical Sciences we stopped for a cup of coffee. The overcast skies threatened to open up and we scurried on our bike in an attempt to avoid getting drenched. Alas!!! It was not to be. Just 20 kms before Hassan near a small village called Dindiganahalli it started raining cats and dogs. Well you can add a few other quadrupeds too to the list. I could barely see a few feet ahead. We took shelter in a bus stop on the roadside. We waited in vain for the rains to let up. Finally, our patience having run out, we decided to put on our ponchos and head for Hassan as the rains abated just a little bit. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It was past 7.00 pm when we reached Hassan and the search for a place to stay for the night started. We were completely drenched. A guy walking in with a helmet in hand, dripping wet , wearing blue rain pants, blue poncho and wearing a green bandana surely must have made the hotel guys wonder. After some searching we finally managed to find a room in Hotel Abhiruchi. It was a decent hotel and the service was good. We retired for the day after having a simple dinner at the hotel downstairs.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It is a known fact that the Shiradi ghat roads are in bad condition. The Shiradi ghats had been closed for a few days just recently for clearing the boulders. Mentally preparing ourselves for the ordeal we set off after breakfast. We reached Sakleshpur in pretty good time. After a quick coffee break and a little bit of wandering around in Sakleshpur we proceeded with a plan to reach Kasargod by late afternoon. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As soon as we hit the Shiradi ghats two factors prompted us to stop for a few photographs. Firstly in a bid to reach Hassan before it gets dark we had driven without stopping much to take any photographs. Secondly the sheer beauty surrounding us was too difficult to pass up. I whipped out my camera to shoot and my heart sank. The shutter at the back of my camera was open and I realized that the locking mechanism had broken. A cry of anguish escaped my throat and my friend looked at me questioningly. On learning what had happened I could see the look of disappointment. My SLR camera, my companion in almost all of my trips and treks was now unusable. My friend asked me if I wanted to go back but I decided to carry on as I didn’t want this one disaster to decide the fate of our trip. Only solace was that we still had the digital camera.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5baVcCNI/AAAAAAAABkc/llkSthEA5K0/s1600-h/A010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5baVcCNI/AAAAAAAABkc/llkSthEA5K0/s320/A010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388971940958177490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">After taking a few minutes to come to grips with the damage to my camera I started my bike and hit the Shiradi ghats. As expected the road condition was bad. Weaving in and around the potholes we progressed slowly. The huge oil tankers that were groaning along further slowed us down. Not wanting to stop lest we get delayed we soldiered on without capturing some of the beautiful sights we saw along the way. After a considerable amount of time we finally decided to take a break for coffee at one of the road side shops. The person at the shop told us that Shiradi ghat section was over and we breathed a sigh of relief. We were to soon find out that our dreams of now being able to ride faster would be crushed cruelly. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Pretty close to Mangalore we were halted in our tracks by a very interesting looking church. We took a few snaps before proceeding towards Kasargod. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7QnzicYI/AAAAAAAABlc/vAYZs2vF6b4/s1600-h/A015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7QnzicYI/AAAAAAAABlc/vAYZs2vF6b4/s320/A015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388973954618782082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The roads didn’t seem to get better at all. The dark clouds adorning the sky warned us of another impending downpour. We were still quite some distance away from Kasargod. With each passing minute it looked unlikely that we would make it to Kasargod. All of a sudden we had to look for a shelter as the rains started lashing. A small garage was what we found and we ran towards it. Within a few seconds we realized that it was leaking too. Dancing around to avoid the water droplets falling on our heads we finally decided to go inside the garage itself. We probably would have been better off sitting inside the auto rickshaws that were standing there for repair. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Have you ever been on a roller coaster ride? No, not the ones you find in theme parks. A roller coaster ride while riding a bike. Have you ever had a camel ride on a bike? If not, all you have to do is ride a bike on this road.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">After what seemed like an interminable wait the rains abated just that little and we once again put on our rain gear and started off. By the time we hit the outskirts of Mangalore not only were we drenched but the torturous ride on the road ridden potholes (yep, you read that right) had taken it’s toll on our bodies. It felt as if the limbs were just about ready to fall off. I might be mistaken but I think I heard the insides of our bones rattling. It was getting dark too. It was still raining and it probably was a good decision that we decided to check into a hotel. Hotel Pentagon it was. The choice of hotel was not such a good decision though.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">With hopes of a hot water bath to combat the bitter cold caused by getting drenched in the heavy rains were soon dashed. The phone in the room was not working. The hot water that they gave was at the most tepid. Since it was still raining and going out for a stroll was ruled out. I made a quick visit to the gate to take a couple of photographs. It was then time for an early dinner. We went to sleep early to make up for the lost time.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5b61F8GI/AAAAAAAABkk/d6tGaTnwTGc/s1600-h/A019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5b61F8GI/AAAAAAAABkk/d6tGaTnwTGc/s320/A019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388971949680881762" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It is just about 50 kms to Kasargod. It shouldn’t have taken more than 90 minutes but it was not to be. Tall coconut trees swaying to the winds and the absolutely green cover announced our arrival in God’s own country. After this bike ride I know why it is called God’s own country. God doesn’t have to travel on a bike; he can go TINGGGG… just like that to any place he wants; like in those old movies. </span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Finally on reaching Kasargod our next ordeal began, the search for a hotel. In one of the hotels I went in to enquire, the overly suspicious man behind the reception first of all said that we don’t look like Indians. If Indians don’t look like Indians to an Indian I wonder who would look like Indians to this Indian. On speaking to him in Kannada his next line of questioning began. Where was I from? What am I doing here? What is my relationship with my friend? Where are we going? Arrgggghhhhhh… his tone was exceptionally good at getting on my nerves and I walked out of there without even telling him I didn’t want a room in his hotel. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Diametrically opposite in his behavior was the man at Speedway Inn. He was very courteous and we took a room. I can’t decide whether that was a good decision or not. It was a new hotel, the staff members were very good and helpful but a strong smell in the room was quite oppressive. It seemed better when the air freshener was sprayed all over the room. We quickly dumped our luggage and got ready to go visit Bekal fort. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On the way to Bekal fort is Chandragiri fort and we decided to visit this place. The fort was built by Shivappa Nayaka. Bekal fort was also built by him. Today, except for the fort walls, nothing remains. By the time the Archaeological society of India took over this fort in 1986 the damage had already been done. This is not a huge fort by any means and it probably was built for defense purposes more than anything else. It does offer a great view though. One gets to see Chandragiri river join the Arabian sea. There is a railway track and we were lucky enough to catch a train pass by. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5caKI0lI/AAAAAAAABks/K6FUr53hYgo/s1600-h/A026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5caKI0lI/AAAAAAAABks/K6FUr53hYgo/s320/A026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388971958090650194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A leisurely stroll along the fort walls revealed a well and a place which had been built to store water. A watch tower has been constructed inside the fort walls recently and it stands out like a sore thumb. Some benches have also been put there probably for the visitors and it is a sad sight. We also saw what looked like a secret tunnel. However it turned out a resting place and we were told that it is about 4 mts deep.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7QZmnTCI/AAAAAAAABlU/P9DxJNtBnSc/s1600-h/A034.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7QZmnTCI/AAAAAAAABlU/P9DxJNtBnSc/s320/A034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388973950806477858" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We left for Bekal fort soon after. It was strange that we could not find many restaurants. We had our lunch at a non-descript kind of hotel and continued towards Bekal. At last we reached Bekal fort. As we entered the fort after buying the entrance tickets the first thing that caught my eye was the watch tower which was being repaired. Compared to Chandragiri fort this one was quite huge. But yet again this fort was for defense purposes and one does not find any remains of a palace. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Arabian Sea right next offers a splendid view. This is the same fort which was captured splendidly in the song “Tu hi re” by Maniratnam in the movie Bombay. Walking along the fort walls, taking in the greenery all around, seeing the vast expanse of the sea merge with the sky, breathing in the smells of grass and the sea water and just sitting on the fort wall, letting the place engulf you and transport you to a world of intrigue and calmness… it is a lovely experience. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5c59ls4I/AAAAAAAABk0/sXfA7b3N02g/s1600-h/A041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl5c59ls4I/AAAAAAAABk0/sXfA7b3N02g/s320/A041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388971966627951490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Sitting on the fort wall and leaning over I noticed 3 young people strolling along on the sands and collecting something. I wish I knew what they were collecting. The waves gently splashing against the boulders as they went about enjoying themselves was a pretty sight. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7PEBHLuI/AAAAAAAABk8/9NYCpJleisk/s1600-h/A046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7PEBHLuI/AAAAAAAABk8/9NYCpJleisk/s320/A046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388973927832170210" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">While walking around I saw something fly past us and sit on a tall blade of grass. Its brilliant yellow color on the wings drew me towards it. As I sat down gingerly so as to not disturb it had completely transformed into a drab grey / lightish brown insect. I wish I had managed to capture this insect with its wings open.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7PmZ2i-I/AAAAAAAABlE/c4GiqStQx5E/s1600-h/A051.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7PmZ2i-I/AAAAAAAABlE/c4GiqStQx5E/s320/A051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388973937062743010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Having walked around and spent a considerable amount of time we finally decided to leave. Just outside the fort was a shop selling cold drinks and eatables. What caught my eye though were plastic containers with fruits. There were a couple of containers with gooseberries. Another had mango slices. The lady said that they are kept in saltwater. Maybe I should have tried but foolishly we had already bought cold drinks. When the lady later mentioned they also had lemon juice I wished I could kick myself. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Bekal beach park is just few minutes away. It is not easy to pass up an opportunity to walk on the beach. Entrance tickets and camera charges as usual but thankfully we were not asked if we are Indians. The park that greeted us was to say the least disappointing. A view of the Bekal fort made things a little better. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7P6xqnPI/AAAAAAAABlM/L21XVS1MzB0/s1600-h/A054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Ssl7P6xqnPI/AAAAAAAABlM/L21XVS1MzB0/s320/A054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388973942531333362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">There were very few people and some of them were trying to have a good time playing in the water. A blanket of dark clouds dashed any hopes of seeing the Sun set for the day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Impending rains forced us to leave and head back to Kasargod. Not wanting to get stuck in the rains yet again and the rapidly darkening skies prompted us to decide against going to Kappil beach. However the rains were not considerate enough and we had to take shelter in one of the bus stands. The incessant rains and the darkening skies quickly exhausted our patience and it was time for the rain gear yet again. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Driving carefully, making every attempt to avoid the potholes and ditches we continued towards Kasargod. What happened next was like a fast forward action from a movie. There was a truck coming from the opposite direction. A car was overtaking the truck. The narrow roads meant that the car was almost at the right edge of the road. The next thing I realized was that a guy on a 500 cc bike had squeezed past the car in an attempt to overtake it. It was sheer luck that I managed to swerve just in time to avoid being hit. Well… God’s own country, Devil’s own roads.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We finally reached the hotel, took a quick shower and came out for dinner. It was still raining. So we decided to have dinner at Indian Coffee house in the same building as our hotel. Having already been drenched once, we did not dare to venture out again after dinner and retired for the day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Technically speaking we had 2 more days. But the experience we had driving to Kasargod had made us quite skeptical about being able to reach Bangalore by Monday evening. So we decided not to risk it and start early in the morning so that we were left with a short distance to cover on Monday. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It was a foregone conclusion that we would not ride back to Bangalore by the route we had taken. So it was via Madikeri – Mysore for our journey back. After reaching Cherkala we asked around for the directions to Jalsoor. One gentleman showed us two routes, one which was through Mulleri. We took this road and pretty soon we were snaking our way through lush greenery. The narrow winding roads were both a test and joy to ride. With one break for coffee we continued not daring to waste time taking photographs along the way. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SsmALfSJPyI/AAAAAAAABlk/Pq4uYqwhnZQ/s1600-h/A056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SsmALfSJPyI/AAAAAAAABlk/Pq4uYqwhnZQ/s320/A056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388979363990028066" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">By around noon we had managed to reach Madikeri. Stopping once more for coffee and some lovely daal vadas we discussed about what to do next. It was becoming extremely difficult to find a good place where we could stop and do some sightseeing. So we decided to keep going and see what comes up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Pushing ourselves to stay on the bike for as long as possible meant that our bodies began to scream at being subjected to such harsh treatment. Pretty soon we were on Mysore road and I began to drive faster. A real test of patience, driving skills and endurance levels it was. By around 7.00 pm having covered close to 400 kms in less than 11 hrs we reached Bangalore. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Thus fell the curtains on an interesting and yet a disappointing trip.<br /><br />Want to see the photos of this trip? <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Bekal#">Click here</a><br /></span><br /></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-56412456815719907752009-09-08T10:42:00.005+05:302009-09-09T07:47:07.498+05:30Mekedaatu<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Sunday 6th September, 2009… a week after the Pondicherry or was it Gingee trip. (Check the previous post). I was still trying to shake off the jitters in my bones induced by the bus drivers. This time we had decided to knock off one item off the ‘Had gone but have to come back again’ list. Mekedaatu it was. Early morning chill could have easily kept me in bed till the Sun came directly above the head but by 7.30 we were ready to hit the road. Remembering the condition of the roads at various places I would love to hit the road with a sledge hammer; provided I can spot a piece of the road somewhere. Need I mention breakfast was at Adigas since we would be heading on the Kanakapura road?</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">For a little while, in comparison to the previous week’s experience, it felt like a ride on the clouds sailing by in the sky. THUD!!! Gddrrrrr… thud. Welcome back to reality. Yes, ditches.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Stopping for a cup of hot coffee another stark reality hit us. During the ride to Pondicherry we never had to drink coffee / tea from a thermos even once. But back in Karnataka we were now subjected to having to drink coffee / tea from thermos flasks. I wish these stalls and small hotels would revert to the old style of making coffee and tea. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Kanakapura came and the road (which doesn’t exist now) desperately tried to shake our bones out of our bodies. Successfully negotiating the dust bowl created by the road widening exercise probably is one of the prerequisites for applying for a job in a circus. Taking the left turn at Satanur we reached Doddaalahalli. Here one has to take a turn to go towards Mekedaatu. There are signboards and that is why we yet again took a wrong turn and had to turn back.</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Zooming past the now familiar hills, trees, houses and lot of other things I realized there weren’t too many birds to bring my bike to a skidding halt like it usually happens. The overcast skies had sent the birds scurrying for cover I guess. Finally we did stop when calls of a few birds managed to reach our ears. Apart from the mynas, crows, sparrows, doves these were the first birds we saw. Wagtails, robins, sunbirds were all there. There was also this tiny black and white bird which did not give us a clear enough look for us to be able to identify. They were too jittery and scurried for cover the moment they sensed our presence. We also saw a mountain far away and dark clouds adorning the sky. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw6BR1gOI/AAAAAAAABak/fdbrUSHRWQM/s1600-h/A010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw6BR1gOI/AAAAAAAABak/fdbrUSHRWQM/s320/A010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378970209530249442" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">We reached Sangama and I saw that the place was not crowded as yet. There are coracles to take people to the other side so as to be able to reach Mekedaatu. Rs. 40 per head is the charge for the coracle ride. There were people wading through the water but we took the coracle. On reaching the other side we saw a bus waiting for passengers to take them to Mekedaatu which was 4-5 kms away. Looking at the condition of the bus a series of questions exploded. How old was this bus? Is it still in running condition? Don’t the parts fall off when the engine starts? How long had it been since the last wash and service?</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Since it was only 4-5 kms we wanted to walk. All the while it had been very cloudy but just as we started our walk the Sun started beating down on us. Talk about being on the shorter side. It was a wise decision to walk though. It gave the opportunity to see and experience things which would not have been possible sitting in an about to disintegrate bus.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Along the way it was sad to see a board put up by the friends of a young man who had drowned taking unwanted risks in the water. It is well known that there are dangerous whirlpools and add to it the jagged rocks with sharp edges. Is it the exuberance of youth alone or utter disregard for the warning signboards? Whatever it be, it is sad that so many lives have been lost here at this place. The guy in the coracle told us that just last week two boys died. Their relatives coughed up 35 thousand rupees to have their bodies retrieved. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Sitting on the rocks by the side of the gently flowing Cauvery it is easy to be transported to a world of beauty, elegance and serenity. The calm waters, the green cover, mountains in the far background and the mist even at noon can captivate a soul a million times within a blink of an eye. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw7Fk8eNI/AAAAAAAABa0/DKxlDdvgDgM/s1600-h/A019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw7Fk8eNI/AAAAAAAABa0/DKxlDdvgDgM/s320/A019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378970227864008914" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Continuing our walk towards Mekedaatu we also saw what looked like mini waterfalls. Here we saw the first glimpses of the ferocious nature of the waters here. Smashing against the rocks it broke up into a thousand pearls and flew into the air garlanding Mother Nature for her blessings. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw7Qb-zdI/AAAAAAAABa8/gFUoVyocPgc/s1600-h/A026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw7Qb-zdI/AAAAAAAABa8/gFUoVyocPgc/s320/A026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378970230779203026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">My friend spotted a Crimson tip butterfly. Birds and butterflies have this unique capability to shave a few years off one’s age and make them young. They make you walk slowly and stealthily with bated breath and open your eyes wide in awe. If and when they sit slightest of the movements or sounds makes them fly away in a jiffy denying any possibility of capturing their beauty on camera.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw79WzWRI/AAAAAAAABbE/S-QCFVz7juw/s1600-h/A029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXw79WzWRI/AAAAAAAABbE/S-QCFVz7juw/s320/A029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378970242837076242" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">There were two buses in fact and one did not even have a windshield. Such was the condition of the buses. Apart from these buses there is absolutely no other vehicle. Yet the bus drivers took joy in honking the horn all the time. One can never understand why. For my friend and me it was frustrating because the butterflies would fly away at this horrible sound of the horn. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Just then a tree caught our attention. At first it looked like gum of the tree had accumulated forming a lumpy mass. On closer inspection it was found to be fungus. It’s color and texture gave it a creepy feeling. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzCdjwFxI/AAAAAAAABbM/aDOxiV8knzo/s1600-h/A034.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzCdjwFxI/AAAAAAAABbM/aDOxiV8knzo/s320/A034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378972553583793938" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">A man was selling buttermilk while another one was selling water bottles and soft drinks. A glass of buttermilk felt divine after having been subjected to Rahu’s heat onslaught for about an hour. Errr… I mean Sun, my friend called him Rahu for his mercilessness throughout the walk. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">One has to climb down a few steps and tread across a small patch of sand before reaching the gorge. People were milling around enjoying the sights around in their own ways. Some were shouting, few were busy getting photographed and the others were eating and littering the place. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzCqITrtI/AAAAAAAABbU/No71iL3Uc8I/s1600-h/A041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzCqITrtI/AAAAAAAABbU/No71iL3Uc8I/s320/A041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378972556958346962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Walking on the rocks we ventured as close to the edge as possible. The rocks were smooth as a baby’s skin at many places owing to the water splashing it for centuries. Interesting shapes had been carved out into the rocks by the gentle looking yet ferocious Cauvery. Gaping holes and arches caught our eyes all around. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzDPRDCbI/AAAAAAAABbc/Yzejo9w2XBQ/s1600-h/A045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzDPRDCbI/AAAAAAAABbc/Yzejo9w2XBQ/s320/A045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378972566927116722" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">We sat on the rocks and spent some time enjoying the water flowing below us. The crowd had started building up and we decided it was time to return.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzDrLQ4KI/AAAAAAAABbk/x_RG9FOkKyA/s1600-h/A051.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzDrLQ4KI/AAAAAAAABbk/x_RG9FOkKyA/s320/A051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378972574419050658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Seeing the two of us walk a group of boys decided that they will walk too. I heard one of them say "when those older people can walk why not us". Hmmm age does catch up pretty fast. All the more reason to live life and do things that the heart desires. </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">The walk back yet again proved fruitful for the number of butterflies and other insects we saw. Just before we reached Sangama I saw a path and decided to take it. A huge meadow and a lot of birds greeted us.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqX3kYPkOLI/AAAAAAAABb0/Tbp9_eU07kI/s1600-h/A060.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqX3kYPkOLI/AAAAAAAABb0/Tbp9_eU07kI/s320/A060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378977534319016114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Chasing the birds proved futile as they all flew away the moment they saw me approaching. But flowers and insects were more accomodative and allowed me to take a few photographs.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzD_OYTZI/AAAAAAAABbs/bjtOf1n-ECw/s1600-h/A056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqXzD_OYTZI/AAAAAAAABbs/bjtOf1n-ECw/s320/A056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378972579800829330" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">We crossed over to the other bank in the coracle and realized that the crowd size had increased considerably. We started our ride back to Bangalore. </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Intermittent showers meant that our ride was interrupted a couple of times. We reached home safely and pretty early too. End of another weekend.<br /><br />To see all the photos from this trip <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Mekedaatu#">Click Here</a><br /></span></span><br /></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-1922967429993921302009-09-05T15:12:00.003+05:302009-09-05T15:50:12.901+05:30Pondicherry - or was it Gingee trip?<div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Pre-requisites for applying for a bus drivers’ job:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">1. Should have been an inmate of a mental asylum for at least 6 months</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">2. Should drive above 60 kmph no matter what the road conditions</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">3. Should drive only on the right side of the road</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">4. Should always overtake every possible vehicle on the road, doesn’t matter from which side</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">5. Should give heart attacks to at least 25 drivers of the oncoming vehicles</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">6. Should force the drivers of the oncoming vehicles off the road</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A biker in his blog had written that one can find everything on the road that is not supposed to be there and I did not believe it until I myself experienced it. The roads were good except in patches but the driving experience was far from enjoyable and relaxing. The scorching heat to add to it made matters worse. Having to push my bike for almost 2 kms in this scorching heat… well… you can imagine.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Pondicherry was the destination for 29th and 30th August weekend. Leaving at 5.00 am in the morning brought with it the expectation of not finding much traffic. A few lorries and tankers had other ideas. A stunning Sunrise gave rise to hopes of a wonderful day ahead.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI06dEli3I/AAAAAAAABRY/n3hjggzUxrA/s1600-h/A003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI06dEli3I/AAAAAAAABRY/n3hjggzUxrA/s320/A003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377919083874716530" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The turn towards Pondicherry was soon after taking a left after Krishnagiri. A few bird calls reached our ears while cruising along this road. On inspection we saw a few babblers. The call was not that of babblers though. Quietly tip toeing into the thickets brought into view a few small green billed Malkohas. What a sight it was. Unfortunately could not get a shot of it though the camera was ready in the hands. Another unidentified bird has given a few sleepless nights. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Breakfast at Chengam gave the much required energy to continue the journey towards Tiruvannamalai. The hill and the temple were visible from a distance. After a pleasant experience in the temple in Lepakshi it was time for some reality. The priests demanding money as dakshina destroyed whatever little feelings of devotion existed. The long wait in the queue and the pushing and jostling to get darshan of Lord Arunachaleshwar is what remains in memory. Instead it should have been the huge premises of the temple, the towering towers, the innumerable number of pillars inside, the vast spaces inside the temple compound and the Shivling itself. It takes all kinds to make this world they say.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">From the cool climes of Bangalore to the scorching heat was not expected. Being monsoon time some amount of rain was expected but it was not to be. Water, tender coconuts and soft drinks were to become our saviors for two days.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Gingee soon beckoned. There are three forts on three hills; the Rajagiri fort (the King’s fort), Krishnagiri fort (the Queen’s fort) and Chandragiri fort (the Cobbler’s fort). We turned right from the main road having decided to climb Rajagiri fort first. The Kalyana Mahal, it’s white and height caught the eyes. It was used as a stable. It has a series of cells.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI06woOrkI/AAAAAAAABRg/Bwjj57_gwG4/s1600-h/A014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI06woOrkI/AAAAAAAABRg/Bwjj57_gwG4/s320/A014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377919089124486722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI07cFdQMI/AAAAAAAABRo/-TfVbe-EVbE/s1600-h/A018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI07cFdQMI/AAAAAAAABRo/-TfVbe-EVbE/s320/A018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377919100789801154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Proceeding towards the fort I parked my bike under a tree where a person collected money and issued a parking ticket. The entrance ticket costs Rs.5 per person. As in most places the rates for Indians and foreigners is different. Somehow this concept has never held water for me. Just because a person is from another country why do these people charge them 10 times the amount or some times even 20 times the amount they charge for Indians?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As soon as one enters the main gate a view of an almost non existent palace greets the visitors. A stone platform with a stone pillow is the only reminder of the palace. The sprawling space does compel one to try and imagine what must have been. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI077JXEHI/AAAAAAAABRw/hKhZD9cRHaQ/s1600-h/A028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI077JXEHI/AAAAAAAABRw/hKhZD9cRHaQ/s320/A028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377919109127671922" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A gymnasium, magazine (a place where the arms and ammunitions were stored), granary have withstood the test of time though. Walking into the granary one will begin to wonder how much grains must have been stored here. It also begs one to ask questions how those people managed it. A circular hole in the roof cast a circle of light on the floor. It is difficult to explain the nice feeling of awe it evoked.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI08IMM3VI/AAAAAAAABR4/ST9-7GRoBh8/s1600-h/A033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI08IMM3VI/AAAAAAAABR4/ST9-7GRoBh8/s320/A033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377919112629247314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Sun beating down mercilessly raised doubts about being able to reach the top of the fort. Soldiering on bravely we were glad we did not give up. We were treated to some magnificent views. The Kalyana Mahal, Krishnagiri fort, a temple, a mosque partly hidden, green fields, the roads and hills all around energize the climbers.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI26gXW5CI/AAAAAAAABSA/0WbFM2qL8gg/s1600-h/A037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI26gXW5CI/AAAAAAAABSA/0WbFM2qL8gg/s320/A037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377921283782009890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI27nbI3qI/AAAAAAAABSQ/VhQexATGbQo/s1600-h/A051.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI27nbI3qI/AAAAAAAABSQ/VhQexATGbQo/s320/A051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377921302856785570" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A baby monkey clinging on to its mother as it sat with another monkey was a lovely sight. The look of peace and contentment on the face of the baby monkey with its eyes closed is better seen than explained with words.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI27PL-MlI/AAAAAAAABSI/Qk-ehnRWnHQ/s1600-h/A039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI27PL-MlI/AAAAAAAABSI/Qk-ehnRWnHQ/s320/A039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377921296350720594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Feeling drained and burned out we sat down on a few steps only to realize there is a temple just ahead. There was another temple along the way. What catches the eyes here are two Ganesha idols on either side of the entrance. Three tridents (Thrishuls) stood just behind a huge circular stone resting on a square stone platform. Sadly there was no one to explain the significance of these.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The view of the green fields and the trees certainly helps one to climb on such a sweltering hot day. A treasury mantapam can be seen after reaching the top. All that remains is an almost dilapidated structure of stone pillars with a roof on it. Closing my eyes I tried to imagine the treasurer sitting somewhere in this structure and distributing money. Hmmm… money</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Having spent some time sitting here we decided to start climbing down. Our bodies were screaming for some cold fluids. In spite of that it was just not possible to not stop at a canon that stood proudly. How many times must it have fired? How many times had it saved this fort and how many times had it failed to protect the inhabitants of this fort?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Intriguingly shaped rocky hill instigates one to conjure up images while passing by. I could see human faces and wondered what else one can imagine by looking at these shapes.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI28G9j9xI/AAAAAAAABSY/RdMiR_UIhtM/s1600-h/A063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI28G9j9xI/AAAAAAAABSY/RdMiR_UIhtM/s320/A063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377921311322666770" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Finally the torturous, energy zapping, fluid sapping climb came to an end. We ran as fast as we could… well make that crawled as fast as we could…. towards a man selling cold drinks. His name was Selvaraj. Sipping on the cold drink I tried conversing with this man in my broken tamil. (I can assure you it is as broken as it can get). This man, from a neighboring village, was afflicted by polio and yet here he was selling cold drinks. He gave us information about the forts and talked to us generally. His smiling demeanor and his zeal to live life fully warmed the cockles of my heart. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI28hHqxTI/AAAAAAAABSg/owhvAmBPBQM/s1600-h/A066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI28hHqxTI/AAAAAAAABSg/owhvAmBPBQM/s320/A066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377921318344377650" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">As if the arduous climb in the scorching Sun was not enough a disaster awaited us. The rear wheel of my bike was punctured. How it happened was a mystery. The person guarding the vehicles informed me there was a puncture shop on the main road just a little ahead. Left with no choice but to push the 140+ Kgs of metal I began my slow walk towards the puncture shop. An autorickshaw driver asked me what happened. On being told that the tyre was punctured he asked if I had been to the Gingee fort. To my affirmative answer he said that it was the people at the two wheeler stand who must have done it. Completely drained and limbs screaming from the strenuous work out they were getting, I could only muster up a mild rage. After coming back to Bangalore another friend told me that it was a common practice which he thought had stopped. What could have been a good experience was now pretty close to being a nightmare.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The just a little ahead was close to 2 kms. I could hardly stand as the boy set about the task of patching the puncture in the tyre. Plopping down in a chair I was literally gasping for breath. When my friend brought a cold bottle of water and a cold pepsi I could only manage a few gulps. Anybody who wants to visit Gingee fort on their bikes, please don’t park near the Rajagiri fort entrance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The delay at Tiruvannamalai temple, the climb to the top of the Rajagiri fort in the scorching heat and then the puncture upset our schedule completely. According to the original plan we should have reached Pondicherry latest by 4.00 pm. I can hardly remember anything other than the scary bus drivers and the dustbowl roads for the rest of the journey towards Pondicherry. It was past 7.30 pm when we finally reached Pondicherry. It was a sinking feeling to realize that the YHAI hostel where I had booked a room was another 16 kms away. Having had lunch as late as 5.00 pm and the completely draining experiences left just enough energy for a bath and crashing onto the bed for the night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">An early morning visit to the beach was planned. Alas…it was not to be. Tiredness induced sleep kept me in bed till late. Cuddalore beach was abou t 4 kms from the youth hostel. So we decided to have breakfast and see the beach before heading back to Pondicherrry. It was a nice breakfast at Ananda Bhavan. We reached the beach after asking around for directions. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A lovely sight greeted us. A family of four was at the beach enjoying the sea waves. The father was encouraging the son and daughter to fall down on the sand to allow the waves to take them to the shore. Mother stood on the beach watching her children play. They kept throwing the beach ball into the water and would run to get it. It was wonderful to see what was happening.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5kQ0DT5I/AAAAAAAABSo/yJbGiEp1sFE/s1600-h/A073.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5kQ0DT5I/AAAAAAAABSo/yJbGiEp1sFE/s320/A073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377924200185155474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Having spent some time on the beach we decided to head back to Pondicherry. The question was now to whether visit the beach or the Ashram. We also wanted to visit Auroville. We also knew that we didn’t have time for all of it. Only one was possible. Finally we decided to visit Auroville. On Sundays the place is closed for visitors in the afternoon. Barely half an hour was available when we reached the Visitor’s centre. Having collected the pass we hurried towards the Matrimandir. It is a truly magnificent sight, the Matrimandir. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5khO0gSI/AAAAAAAABSw/4um0cI7WPHs/s1600-h/A089.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 167px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5khO0gSI/AAAAAAAABSw/4um0cI7WPHs/s320/A089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377924204592398626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We sat down for some time under the more than 100 years old banyan tree and watched people from all part of the world. Within a few minutes the place was almost empty and we knew we had to start our journey back to Bangalore.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5lE2aYLI/AAAAAAAABS4/MJZYDt05t1Q/s1600-h/A095.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5lE2aYLI/AAAAAAAABS4/MJZYDt05t1Q/s320/A095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377924214153699506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">On our onward journey we had been unable to take photos of the hill behind the Arunachaleshwar temple. So we stopped and took photos. Just as we left the town of Tiruvannamalai Rain Goddess decided we had had too much of Sun and she came pouring down. Within a couple of minutes the downpour was so heavy that the road, just a few feet away, was not even visible. Sitting inside the small roadside hotel we waited patiently. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5lWPHCiI/AAAAAAAABTA/4harF15oxzY/s1600-h/A099.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5lWPHCiI/AAAAAAAABTA/4harF15oxzY/s320/A099.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377924218820692514" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">After almost an hour the rain abated and we started back knowing fully well that we would have to drive in total darkness. As if to compensate for the delay and the troubles we had during the trip we were treated to a very B-E-A-utiful Sunset. </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5l54aBkI/AAAAAAAABTI/QynpNT1kbXk/s1600-h/A104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SqI5l54aBkI/AAAAAAAABTI/QynpNT1kbXk/s320/A104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377924228389144130" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Finally Bangalore greeted us and we stopped at the Anekal cross for a late dinner. We finally reached home bringing the curtains down on yet another weekend of adventure.<br /><br />To view all the photos from this trip <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Gingee">Click Here</a><br /></span><br /></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-45612495679327177322009-08-28T10:52:00.004+05:302009-08-28T11:31:32.543+05:30Lepakshi - a place for a devotee and a connoisseur alike<div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:arial;">Story 1: Ravana kidnapped Sita and was on his way to Lanka. Jatayu, a demi-god in the form of a vulture and a devotee of Lord Rama, intercepted Ravana in order to save Sita. In the ensuing battle Ravana cut off Jatayu’s wings. As Jatayu lay on the ground in the clutches of death Rama and Lakshmana came in search of Sita. Seeing Jatayu in this condition Rama uttered “Le-pakshee” meaning “rise oh bird”. Thus the place came to be known as Lepakshee.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Story 2: Veeranna, treasurer of King Achutaraya, the successor of King Krishnadevaraya of Vijayanagara Empire decided to build a temple for his family deity Veerabhadraswamy. Veeranna’s plans were on a grandiose scale and as a result the treasury got emptied. The king on learning this was upset and ordered Veeranna to be blinded. The loyal servant, that Veeranna was, carried out the punishment himself. He gouged his own eyes and threw them against the walls of the temple. To this day one can see the bloodstains on the wall of the temple. Thus originated the name Lepa-akshi, meaning village of the blinded eye.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It really doesn’t matter how this town got it’s name. The magnificence of the temple’s sculptures and paintings is sure to leave every visitor spell bound. It is claimed that the temple was built by Saint Agastya himself. However it was developed into the present marvelous form by Veeranna as mentioned in the second story.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The day before Ganesh Chaturthi my friend and I left early which enabled us to cover some distance before we stopped for breakfast. On Doddaballapur road we stopped at Shuchi Ruchi and stuffed ourselves with vada, kesaribath, kharabath and dosa. Well thankfully I did not eat all these items all by myself. According to our calculations we should have reached the temple by around 10.30 am. At one point of our journey I had to ask my friend to get down from the bike and walk while I transformed myself into a circus artist. Negotiating the collapsed road which had left a huge gap I almost lost my balance. The rocks and stones used to fill this gap only made matters worse. After I crossed the obstacle course a group of boys sitting in an autorickshaw exclaimed “excellent driving skills sir”. Thus combination of bad roads and a couple of other factors ensured that we reached Lepakshi only at noon.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The temple, right in the middle of the village and hidden behind all the modern buildings, was built in the 16th century (1535 AD) in the Vijayanagara style of architecture. The other notable and very famous example of this style of architecture is Hampi. An attempt at describing the architectural marvel of these temples would be grave injustice to the skills of the sculptors. The Vishwakarma Brahmin artisans, many of whose names are found in inscriptions in this temple, have brought to life the characters and events from mythology and history with consummate ease and grandeur.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The temple has 3 main sections, the Mukha Mandapa (aka Nitya Mandapa or Ranga Mandapa), Artha Mandapa and Garbha Griha. The temple also houses a Kalyana Mandapa which was left unfinished due to the unfortunate death of Veeranna. The unfinished Kalyana Mandapa has 38 carved monolith pillars in grey sandstone. It is believed that Shiva and Parvathi got married in this very same Kalyana Mandapa.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvGqYWOLI/AAAAAAAABBg/IocoR35U2jA/s1600-h/A048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvGqYWOLI/AAAAAAAABBg/IocoR35U2jA/s320/A048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374886840536283314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In this temple reside Lord Ganesha, Lord Veerabhadraswamy and his wife, Lord Shiva (there are five Shivlings in all), Goddess Parvathi, Lord Vishnu, Lord Anjaneya and Goddess Durga. Lepakshi is considered as one of the 108 important Shaiva Kshetras referred in the Skandapurana. Apart from the five Shivlings Lord Shiva has been depicted in various forms both in sculptures and paintings including the dancing form of Nataraja. Lord Veerabhadraswamy is also one of the many forms of Lord Shiva.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">One of the Shivlings is placed on top of the coils of a seven headed serpent which has been carved out in a huge monolith boulder just outside the main temple. An interesting story exists for this seven headed serpent. The main sculptor asked his mother to serve him food. She asked him to wait for some time as the food was being prepared. The sculptor carved a magnificent seven headed serpent in the boulder just opposite to the room where his mother was preparing food. When she came out with the food she was taken aback by this life-like serpent. She exclaimed and it is said that her evil eye cause the snake sculpture to crack. These cracks can be seen even now.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt4x8_urI/AAAAAAAABAY/e1Ftcqs-WD4/s1600-h/A036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt4x8_urI/AAAAAAAABAY/e1Ftcqs-WD4/s320/A036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374885502539250354" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">One of the many must see things in this temple is the floating pillar. It is said that this pillar was completely off the ground but now because of an experiment conducted by a britisher one corner of the pillar is touching the ground. His experiment led him to conclude that the entire balance of the temple lies on this pillar alone. He is believed to have said that should this pillar be toppled the entire temple would collapse. It is a definite brain teaser as to how this huge stone pillar is hanging from the ceiling of this temple.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt5RG8V4I/AAAAAAAABAg/rzgLaOR_61I/s1600-h/A005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt5RG8V4I/AAAAAAAABAg/rzgLaOR_61I/s320/A005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374885510902470530" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The 100 petals lotus carved from 12 stones and joined together in the ceiling of the temple leaves one open mouthed, literally. Pillars with carvings of Rambha, Nataraja, Brahma, Shiva, Parvathi, Nandi, Bhringi (the three legged devotee of Lord Shiva), and Chandra are mesmerizing to say the least. These are the inner circle of pillars. The surrounding pillars have various forms and episodes sculpted into them including one of a chubby warrior, bhoota gana from Shiva’s army. I mention this because this bhoot gana is absolutely cute looking.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt5-CVCDI/AAAAAAAABAo/_YlgTxCd89M/s1600-h/A027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt5-CVCDI/AAAAAAAABAo/_YlgTxCd89M/s320/A027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374885522962712626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As the enamored eyes travel upwards on the pillars and reach the ceiling exquisite paintings take over the task of leaving the visitor gasping for breath for their sheer beauty and brilliance. These paintings on the ceilings done using natural vegetable dyes are now on the verge of being lost forever. Elements of nature have taken their toll on these paintings. What still remains though stands testimony to the artistic prowess of the artisans of that era.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Paintings depicting Shiva-Parvathi’s wedding ceremonies, episode of Ganesha separating Ravana from the Atmaling he got as a boon from Lord Shiva, Veeranna along with his brother Virupanna and sons, seven maids (each one an expert in one particular form of make up) readying Parvathi for the wedding and a painting of a young Krishna whose eyes follow you wherever you go are just some of the few.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt6dqBfpI/AAAAAAAABAw/vhiTIxt4upU/s1600-h/A023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt6dqBfpI/AAAAAAAABAw/vhiTIxt4upU/s320/A023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374885531450703506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Writing just a paragraph about each of the pillars and paintings would result in a huge book and words are just not equipped enough to capture and convey the stories that have been brought to life. One has to see with one’s own eyes, hear the stories that these silent pillars narrate with their own ears and feel the richness of art by being present there; body and soul.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Next time you see a saree with intricate creeper designs you might want to check one of the many pillars in the Lata Mandapa in the unfinished Kalyana Mandapa. The design just might have been inspired from one of these pillars each with a different intricate design.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The pillars in the unfinished Kalyana Mandapa have exquisitely carved figures of Shiva, Parvathi, Brihaspathi, Parvathi’s parents, Indra, Kubera, Varuna, Agni, Vaayu and Yama. Each pillar standing is a testimony to the sculptors’ capabilities of bringing stones to life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Inside the compound of the temple is an impression of a foot in the stone. It is believed that it is Sita’s right foot impression. Throughout the year this impression is filled with water as there is a natural water spring inside it. The left foot impression is said to be in Kalahasthi.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvFHFxXOI/AAAAAAAABBI/eGhGBkYveJA/s1600-h/A054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvFHFxXOI/AAAAAAAABBI/eGhGBkYveJA/s320/A054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374886813883260130" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On the same boulder in which the seven headed serpent has been carved is carvings of a story related to Sri Kalahasthi. There is a spider which is seen worshipping Shivling. A second carving shows Bedara Kannappa worshipping Shivling. The third depicts a cobra and an elephant worshipping the Shivling. Sri the spider, Kala the cobra and hasthi the elephant combined together give the name Sri Kalahasthi.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Right next to this story of Kalahasthi is a beautifully carved Lord Ganesha. Lord Veerabhadraswamy inside the sanctum sanctorum is ugraroopi meaning he is an angry God. The teekshna drishti of Lord Veerabhadraswamy is too powerful for mere mortals like us. This is why it is believed that one has to go around the sanctum sanctorum and take the darshan of Lord Ganesha before entering inside.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt6xRPsDI/AAAAAAAABA4/FmOnG0rjq_Y/s1600-h/A040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Spdt6xRPsDI/AAAAAAAABA4/FmOnG0rjq_Y/s320/A040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374885536715485234" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Lord Veerabhadraswamy draped in white with a blue cloth for background looked beautiful. Yes, he is a ugraroopi but that day he seemed to be in a good mood. In no modern day temple have I managed to get this feeling of absolute serenity and bliss. A smiling Lord Vishnu right opposite to one of the Shivlings evoked feelings of calm. The Goddess draped in gold and pink saree was looking… well just beautiful. I just stood there for a few moments lost in her gaze and her lovely smile. Goddess Durga carved into one of the pillars and now covered in a brass plate depicting her form was resplendent in a golden yellow saree. Her smile too evoked a sense of calm.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvEu34BUI/AAAAAAAABBA/uMo61QHao5I/s1600-h/A062.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvEu34BUI/AAAAAAAABBA/uMo61QHao5I/s320/A062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374886807382525250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Inside the temple the guide showed us the sculptures of a perfect man and a perfect woman. The perfect man has long hands, broad chest, flat foot and two other attributes which I forgot. The perfect woman has a flat foot, a face which is in 3 equal parts (forehead, nose and upper lip to chin), her face, chest and abdomen are also in equal proportion, has an arched feet and the second toe of her feet are longer than the big toe. Quite interesting… but these talk about only the physical attributes. Weren’t behavioral characteristics important in the making of a perfect man or woman?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Walking around the temple we found inscriptions on the walls and on the ground. These are said to be in both kannada and telugu. Along the outer compound are shelters for devotees who came from far for worshipping the presiding Gods and Goddesses. The pillars here too are intricately carved with some wonderful designs.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On the ground has been carved what looks like plates in the stone. The guide explained to us that this is where the artisans used to have their food. Looking at the size of the plates I could not stop myself from wondering about the amount of food these artisans ate.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvFhnEhSI/AAAAAAAABBQ/2GWJbGMlabY/s1600-h/A056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvFhnEhSI/AAAAAAAABBQ/2GWJbGMlabY/s320/A056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374886821002249506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Such grandeur coupled with very few people gave us the much sought after peaceful time. It was a wonderful experience to sit in the temple, close the eyes and experience it all. Here we also experienced the phrase “time flies”. It really did and pretty fast too because we had spent more than three hours. Given a choice we would have spent a few more hours exploring this amazing world from the 16th century.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">One word of advice, when you engage a guide look for someone who explains in Kannada or Telugu. We asked for a guide who could explain in English. Later on we realized it was a mistake. Not only did this person not explain many of the sculptures and paintings but he also gave information which was contradicted by another guide. We were disappointed with the guide we had engaged.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We next stopped at the biggest monolith Nandi in India. Measuring 15 feet high and 27 feet in length this Nandi has an imposing presence. This is not inside the temple premises and is situated a few hundred meters down the road. It is not the most ornate of the Nandi’s that I have seen but it still is an amazing piece of sculpting. The guide told us that when this temple was built there were seven concentric walls. All that remains now are three layers. The rest four have been lost to the growing human civilization. Another interesting fact is that the Seven headed serpent carved out in stone in the temple can be seen from this place where Nandi stands. The buildings constructed do obscure the view somewhat but it is still visible.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvGDzD_cI/AAAAAAAABBY/HmljKOyr_Pw/s1600-h/A079.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SpdvGDzD_cI/AAAAAAAABBY/HmljKOyr_Pw/s320/A079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374886830179352002" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As a footnote I would like to add a couple of things. Unlike many of the temples where at every step one has to shell out big bucks either for Darshan or for even just entering here there was no demand from anybody for money. Even guides do not ask you for any specific amount of money. They accept whatever the visitors give them. Secondly the priest in this temple was very courteous and very nice. He was young and even spoke to us in English. When I was hesitating to go near Lord Vishnu’s idol for taking a photograph he said “Please go in Sir, there is no restriction on taking photographs. Only request is please don’t enter the sanctum sanctorum.” It was such a delightful change from the haughty and airy priests of some of the temples I have visited.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It was time to head back to Bangalore. We decided we will take the Chikkaballapur road this time to avoid the bad roads that we came by. This did not help us in anyway. The road condition till we hit the highway was no better. The road widening disease had struck and it was a nightmare driving through these dust bowls. Finally it was around 5.00 pm when we went to the AP tourism development corporation hotel at Kodikonda post. Though we had not had our lunch we were not too hungry and had a plate of hot chapatis. Feeling a little better for having left the bad roads behind, we rode back home thus bringing another wonderful weekend to close.<br /><br />Route: Total distance is around 130 kms from Bangalore.<br />Option 1: Bangalore - Yelahanka - Doddaballapur - Gauribidanur - Hindupur - then take the turn going towards Kodikonda - Lepakshi<br />Option 2: Bangalore - Devanahalli - Chikkaballapur - Bagepall - Kodikonda - then take the road towars Hindupur (there is a APSTDC hotel after which is the left turn) - Lepakshi<br /><br />It was difficult choosing the photos to be uploaded in this blog. To see all the photos not uploaded in the blog <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Lepakshi#">Click Here</a><br /></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-89942591757205745002009-08-19T13:04:00.005+05:302009-08-19T15:12:44.728+05:30Markonahalli Dam<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Life always has it’s own way of derailing the most meticulously laid plans. I strived hard to write about our travel experiences every week. The last couple of weeks have been very tough and I haven’t been able to write about the travels. As a result I have to now play the catch up game. It’s decision time now which I am not particularly fond of. Alas!!! I have to take a decision though. I will now write about our trip to Markonahalli dam. We visited this place a day after celebrating Independence day of the year 2009. The write up of the previous weeks’ shall follow soon. (Hopefully)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Searching through the various resources (google being the main one) we chanced upon a place called Markonahalli dam. Further digging revealed about another place Varadenahalli falls along the way. Of the two routes available we decided to avoid the one which goes via Tumkur road. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Yes, we did start later than our planned time but it was an early start compared to our previous weeks. This meant that we could cover some distance before we stopped for breakfast. We took the Magadi road. Early morning no traffic roads and a slightly overcast sky meant that we covered good distance. However the joy was short lived as Rain Goddess started crying... errrr… myself trying to visualize this, can you??? (My friend always uses feminine gender to address rains like arey meri ma ruk ja, kya kar rahi hai, kyon pareshan kar rahi hai etc.,). </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Tippagondanahalli reservoir, famous as the place from where Bangalore gets it’s supply of water, beckoned us. The drizzle however dissuaded us from making a stop. The road was pretty good after a rough patch initially. As a result we were zooming along on our bikes. The tiny raindrops must have been pretty irked by this fact. It was not long before I felt the raindrops trying to pierce our skin wherever it was exposed. Having decided not to pay heed to this we realized pretty soon that the rain goddess wanted to prove to us that she is indeed more powerful than us. I have always said that Mother Nature is any day much more powerful than us, in fact much more powerful than all of us human beings on this earth put together. Yet I wonder what prompted rain goddess to hurl those tiny missiles called raindrops right into our eyes. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">A tiny little thatched structure came into view and we stopped having surrendered to rain goddess’ assault. A family from one of the villages around was also taking shelter there and was actually waiting for a bus to go somewhere. My friend and I were gibberishing away the time when I noticed this small girl staring at us. It didn’t take me long to realize that our appearances must have been quite startling for her. Cargo pants, jackets, bandana, head scarf, riding gloves, black sun glasses et al must have made her think if we were by any chance creatures from another planet. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">As soon as the rains abated we continued our journey towards Magadi. Our stomachs were growling already. Soon we reached the circle at Magadi. We entered a small hotel kind of structure and the lady there told me idlis and rice bath was available for breakfast. Not used to having rice bath early in the morning we ordered idlis. It was not the usual idlis we get in our hotels in Bangalore. It was a kind of plate idli but had onions, greens and pulses. It tasted really good. Not only that the size of the idli was also pretty big. I could now hear my stomach groaning at having been forced to make space for the huge idli. A cup of coffee would help the idlis settle we thought. At the entrance of the Magadi town was an arch which proclaimed it as the city of silk. It should have been the city of sugar going by the amount of sugar the lady had added to the coffees. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">All the while during our breakfast rain goddess was peacefully sleeping in the clouds. Someone must have informed her that we have started our journey again and she woke up forcing us to stop once again. I asked the boy sitting and cleaning bike parts what the fort like structure was that was right in front of us. He said that it was Kempegowda’s fort but now inside was nothing but a big ground used for Sunday fairs. A sense of gloom descended on hearing this and seeing the dilapidated state of the fort. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Rain goddess finally relented and allowed us to continue our journey towards Kunigal. One has to continue on this highway before taking a left turn for Markonahalli dam. There is a board announcing this and it is difficult to miss it. That must be precisely the reason for us to have missed it.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">The unscheduled stops due to rain meant that we lost close to an hour and as a result it was 11.00 am when we reached Markonahalli dam. A crowd had already gathered. It was definitely not what we wanted. To have traveled all the way in order to get away from the noisy crowds of the city and only to find the same was disheartening. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Climbing up the steps was a reminder of our aging bodies. Thankfully it was not too high. The vast expanse of water was as soothing as ever. Just as we decided to sit on the stone compound wall a noisy group of people came and we decided to walk. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout7Hq1oNI/AAAAAAAAAq8/nMj3y3oHw7M/s1600-h/A001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout7Hq1oNI/AAAAAAAAAq8/nMj3y3oHw7M/s320/A001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371578211752059090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">We wandered around looking at the dam. These huge structures never cease to instill a feeling of awe. We saw quite a few butterflies but only a couple of them posed for photographs. The young one of a lizard was looking around curiously which we managed to capture on camera too.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout7m34ywI/AAAAAAAAArE/l8RIZon0PRI/s1600-h/A009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout7m34ywI/AAAAAAAAArE/l8RIZon0PRI/s320/A009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371578220128291586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">We came back to the dam and went near the place where the gates of the dam were. A group of boys had entered the huge circular opening and were shouting at the top of their voices and this finally drove us away from the place. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout85yPlQI/AAAAAAAAArU/n__15ZfUoYM/s1600-h/A015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout85yPlQI/AAAAAAAAArU/n__15ZfUoYM/s320/A015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371578242384762114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Just before the gate to the dam we had noticed a canal. Stopping for a quick photograph of the canal we noticed a path along this canal. We rode our bike along this path and took a break at a secluded spot. This break proved to be the highlight of the trip. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwAGmbFFI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/1fP9wukOBDU/s1600-h/A021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwAGmbFFI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/1fP9wukOBDU/s320/A021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371580496387707986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Lots of babblers and sun birds were flitting around on the trees. A large number of butterflies made us forget our aging and aching limbs. Giving in to hunger pangs we decided to chase the birds and butterflies after finishing the sandwiches and boiled eggs we had packed from home. Sitting on the grass, by the canal and eating simple food brought from home…. Hmmm… I wonder when was the last time I was fortunate enough to have experienced such kind of bliss. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout8VSHbMI/AAAAAAAAArM/kQS80E7vA8s/s1600-h/A011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout8VSHbMI/AAAAAAAAArM/kQS80E7vA8s/s320/A011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371578232586333378" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBddPCZI/AAAAAAAAAso/pCYMVwTxAo0/s1600-h/A031.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBddPCZI/AAAAAAAAAso/pCYMVwTxAo0/s320/A031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371580519703054738" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Armed with our digital camera we set off in pursuit of the birds. From one branch to another, from one tree to another they kept flying around all the while making us run and helping us grow young; even if for just a few minutes.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBzBxBeI/AAAAAAAAAsw/d8Y7gNaCJ0U/s1600-h/A039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBzBxBeI/AAAAAAAAAsw/d8Y7gNaCJ0U/s320/A039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371580525493421538" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">A small girl named Arpita saw us chasing birds and asked us if we wanted them. This had me thinking and asked her what she meant by if we wanted the birds. She went on to explain that they catch birds and that too with their hands. We said we were not interested in having the birds. However a question popped up in my head, how does this kid manage to catch a bird with bare hands?</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwAgDT61I/AAAAAAAAAsY/G8RsSftiCuw/s1600-h/A025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwAgDT61I/AAAAAAAAAsY/G8RsSftiCuw/s320/A025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371580503219759954" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Continuing with our pursuit of birds we wandered off and were pleasantly surprised to see people working in the fields. There were a couple of lapwings sitting idly and enjoying the tender green of the just planted... Errr I really don’t know what they had planted. We looked around desperately for a place to sit but were disappointed. Trudging back towards our bike we were treated with sightings of some lovely insects, butterflies and birds. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBEABN8I/AAAAAAAAAsg/XPg8lMKUMUo/s1600-h/A030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SouwBEABN8I/AAAAAAAAAsg/XPg8lMKUMUo/s320/A030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371580512869627842" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout9VsaaOI/AAAAAAAAArc/xDYhoJovCBg/s1600-h/A020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Sout9VsaaOI/AAAAAAAAArc/xDYhoJovCBg/s320/A020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371578249876498658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">It had been more than and hour and a half since we had reached this place. As if to compensate for the rains throughout our journey the Sun had been mercilessly beating down on us throughout this stay of an hour and a half. We were thirsty and hence headed off to Vishnu Bhavan. Surprise surprise… Rain Goddess did not take long to realize that we had started off our journey once again and decided to accompany us.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Having reached the Varadenahalli post we asked around for Varadenahalli falls. The locals said they had never heard of anything like that. It was very frustrating. Deciding to visit Tippagondanahalli reservoir instead we continued our journey. Yet again disappointment awaited us. A board at the gate of the TG Halli reservoir announced that there is no entry for public. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Masala Munch was the name of the place we stopped for a cup of coffee. Since we were hungry we decided to order for bread omlette. I wish I had walked into the kitchen and seen the cook coax the hen into laying eggs. The hen must have been very reluctant because it took a long time for our bread omlette to be prepared and brought to us. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Rest of the ride back home was pretty uneventful and a slightly disappointing trip came to an end.<br /><br />Markonahalli dam is at a distance of about 93 kms from Bangalore and about 18 Kms from Kunigal.<br />Bangalore --> Magadi --> after Magadi town turn left towrds Kunigal--> go past Kunigal and continue on the highway --> take left at the signboard which indicates the way to Markonahalli dam. (there is a hotel by name Vishnu Bhavan on the right side of the road just opposite to this cross)<br /><br />To see the pictures from this trip <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Markonahallidam#">Click Here</a><br /></span></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-48876081440026292262009-08-07T11:15:00.000+05:302009-08-07T15:35:04.921+05:30Chunchankatte - Day 2<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We woke up early in the morning, hoping to check out and head for Chamundi hills. The person at the desk was unavailable and we decided to have coffee in the meantime. A small cart by the roadside was where we ended up for coffee. As we sipped the hot coffee we saw a man cutting tomatoes. The speed and accuracy with which he was cutting was a treat to watch. When my friend decided to take his picture he was quite embarrassed and happy at the same time.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC8kkCHpI/AAAAAAAAAiY/gzSFytF-KJA/s1600-h/A077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC8kkCHpI/AAAAAAAAAiY/gzSFytF-KJA/s320/A077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367097726804827794" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Having finally checked out of the hotel we took off for Chamundi hills. It was a beautiful drive all the way up. Before the crowd could build up we managed to get Goddess Chamundeshwari’s darshan. We walked around a little enjoying the magnificent view.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC8zLbTII/AAAAAAAAAig/rAxC47MFeX4/s1600-h/A082.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC8zLbTII/AAAAAAAAAig/rAxC47MFeX4/s320/A082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367097730728152194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">By now we were hungry and rode back into town. We were hoping to find a restaurant but we hit the highway to Bangalore instead. Luckily we found a small hotel where we had our breakfast. Our plan was to visit Mahadevapura. Off we went in search of the place.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">On asking for directions a gentleman informed us that we had missed a turn. So we went back and took the turn towards Mahadevapura. Yet again the drive was, to say the least, serenely beautiful. Large coconut groves swaying gently, fields filled with water and people going about their daily routines had a calming effect on us.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC9bL4bSI/AAAAAAAAAio/_0soOt77aJk/s1600-h/A084.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC9bL4bSI/AAAAAAAAAio/_0soOt77aJk/s320/A084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367097741467479330" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Passing through one of the villages we saw an old lady sitting right next to something drying on the road. It was only when my friend told me that it was fish that was being dried did I realize what it was. It was curious to see these small little things being dried in the Sun and they were of different colors too.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC9tkgU0I/AAAAAAAAAiw/RBN9fz8hcEc/s1600-h/A090.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnvC9tkgU0I/AAAAAAAAAiw/RBN9fz8hcEc/s320/A090.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367097746402595650" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was confusion and more confusion when we reached one of the crossroads. People gave us directions and they were all different. Inspite of all this we did manage to reach Mahadevapura. There is a temple and Cauvery flows right next to it. There was lot of water and we walked along the bank. There is a Ramaswamy anekattu and few people had gathered around. We looked for a place where the crowd was relatively smaller. We sat down and watched a little egret standing in the water and sun bathing.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv2SYqJt_I/AAAAAAAAAjo/aSfaNSibw5E/s1600-h/A108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv2SYqJt_I/AAAAAAAAAjo/aSfaNSibw5E/s320/A108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367154176659404786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hibiscus like flowers caught our eyes as we strolled back towards our bike. On closer inspection they were not. Question about what flowers these were kept bouncing around my head even as I focused the camera on the flower. BINGO… right next to the flower was something that … dimaag ki batti jala di</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1Ky9cRkI/AAAAAAAAAjg/HJ_E7D-7Mbw/s1600-h/A104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1Ky9cRkI/AAAAAAAAAjg/HJ_E7D-7Mbw/s320/A104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367152946769053250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was then time for us to move on. We stopped at a small shop for coffee and the shopkeeper told us we can reach the Bangalore road by going to the right. We did and we repented listening to him. We should have gone back the way we came. The road was non-existent and it wasn’t long before both of us were wishing for some soft pillows. However the fields, the birds and curiously shaped tree trunks kept us going. More pictures of ibises, tree pie, bee eaters and pond herons kept us smiling.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1JRmL2OI/AAAAAAAAAjA/ljamzTVkJf0/s1600-h/A102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1JRmL2OI/AAAAAAAAAjA/ljamzTVkJf0/s320/A102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367152920633268450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1JnP2FDI/AAAAAAAAAjI/AIM87clKMCU/s1600-h/A111.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1JnP2FDI/AAAAAAAAAjI/AIM87clKMCU/s320/A111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367152926445147186" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Inspite of stopping along the way for coffee at a roadside shop in one of the villages we were desperate to have some good coffee. During our recent trips we have noticed a phenomenon which has left us exasperated quite literally. If you were to watch us while we drive, you might notice us eagerly eyeing the tea / coffee shops for one which still has a kettle on the kerosene stove. These little shops are now equipped with thermos flasks. Ugh!!! Talk about technology. Trust us… given a choice we would never drink the tea from a thermos which tastes anything but like tea. I wonder if the proximity to Mandya, the sugar bowl of Karnataka, has anything to do with the coffees and teas being prepared in sugar syrup instead of water.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Since we didn’t find any of these little tea shops with a kettle on the stove we happily walked into Maddur Tiffanys. Quite an interesting question here… what would be the reaction of the people inside the hotel if we had given in to our temptation and driven our bike right into the hotel? It was lunch time. I ordered for meals and my friend ordered for masala dosa. But hey, we were in Maddur and how can one not eat Maddur vadas. Yep, we ordered them too.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Having finished lunch we hit the highway and we were glad that we won’t have to suffer bad roads anymore. Alas! It was not to be. The road to Kanwa dam was being relaid. It was a horrifying ride. It almost made us turn back and give Kanwa dam a skip. But having come so far we decided we will take a look at it anway. The water level was much higher and the dam had been painted. There were a few people who had come for a picnic but on the whole it was pretty isolated. A red wattled lapwing entertained us for some time. There was no place where shade was available for us to sit. This prompted us to head back and we saw a lot of bee eaters. We even saw one bee eater happily devouring an insect.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1KX_yx1I/AAAAAAAAAjY/Wd4uCQheZIY/s1600-h/A118.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 142px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1KX_yx1I/AAAAAAAAAjY/Wd4uCQheZIY/s320/A118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367152939531159378" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1KKDj42I/AAAAAAAAAjQ/2XmJt_ICfr8/s1600-h/A114.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/Snv1KKDj42I/AAAAAAAAAjQ/2XmJt_ICfr8/s320/A114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367152935788864354" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was a long ride back home as thoughts of the city life flooded back. Yet another wonderful trip came to an end. There was a heavy sinking feeling. Yet two days of being ourselves without worrying about the worldly responsibilities had rejuvenated us to an extent.<br /><br />For viewing the Day 2 pics <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/ChunchankatteDay2#">Click Here</a><br /></span></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-5592645052369528462009-08-06T07:37:00.000+05:302009-08-07T11:15:45.891+05:30Chunchankatte-Day 1<div><div><div><div><div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">WARNING: After reading my previous blogs we realized that they were not doing complete justice to our trips. In an attempt to keep it short I had left out quite a few things which were integral to our enjoying the trips tremendously. To keep it short or to write about all those wonderful little experiences was the choice we had to make. Finally we decided we will forget about keeping it short and write for those friends of ours who really love to read all about our experiences and interactions with nature. So friends, get your soft drinks bottles, popcorn packets and settle down in your chairs to go along on our trips……</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Our trip to Chunchi and Sangama was, to say the least, wonderful. The number of birds we got to see, the lovely mountains, mesmerizing clouds, soothing lake et al. For the next weekend we decided to go to Ghati Subrahmanya. Late on Friday evening we realized the place would be crowded, so crowded that there wouldn’t be an inch of space to put our foot down on the ground. My friend was upset after having done all the planning and research. It looked like we would have to spend the weekend at home sulking for having not realized that Nagarapanchami was on the weekend.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">After a lot of consoling and convincing I scurried off to the nearest cybercafé to search for alternatives. Half an hour later armed with a list of about 10 places I walked towards my friend even as my heart pounded away. Dilly dallying between the options, we discussed and argued about which place to choose. Finally… chun chun ke chuna humne Chunchankatte falls.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Saturday 25th July, 2009. Is it necessary to mention that our start time was much later than what we had decided? It was still early enough for us to be able to hit the Mysore road without getting stuck in a traffic jam. This inspite of having to take a circuitous route through JP nagar and Banashankari. Needless to say we lost our way, courtesy dug up roads. Tatte idlis in Bidadi beckoned us. I was not sure if it was my bike or our stomachs whose roaring and grumbling kept reaching my ears. On reaching Bidadi just as I was about to stop for idlis my friend informed me that the regular hotel where we have breakfast is still ahead. Within no time we realized we had missed our tatte idlis.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Kamat Lokaruchi it was for our breakfast then. We took our time enjoying our breakfast. Though the food is good the waiting at times gets on our nerves because of the huge weekend crowd. Come to think of it I enjoyed it so much that I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast. Having silenced the roaring in our stomachs we set off again.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">On the highway we noticed some vendors selling fruits. They had arranged the musambis and pomegranates in an eye catching fashion.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEpUyFHoI/AAAAAAAAAfc/HNClZxnMB0M/s1600-h/A003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEpUyFHoI/AAAAAAAAAfc/HNClZxnMB0M/s320/A003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366677382709452418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ponds, lakes, rivers and other water bodies have this strong control over us which is difficult to explain but easy to understand for those who love nature. It was a lake which compelled us to stop and spend some time there. The expanse of water, the blue skies garlanded by soft cotton like clouds, a few women sitting on the steps and washing clothes… we captured it on camera. Or should I say we tried capturing it on camera.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEpHhSK7I/AAAAAAAAAfU/fBB-1pwBNf0/s1600-h/A009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEpHhSK7I/AAAAAAAAAfU/fBB-1pwBNf0/s320/A009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366677379149343666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Just then my friend noticed a small plant with leaves still tender sprouting out of the stones. And then there were more such tiny tots swaying to the lilting music of the winds. The color of the tender leaves has always fascinated me and it was no different this time. For the next few minutes we took time to savor it’s beauty and capture it on camera.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEo5jJltI/AAAAAAAAAfM/CqGjdfqyfaI/s1600-h/A013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEo5jJltI/AAAAAAAAAfM/CqGjdfqyfaI/s320/A013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366677375399073490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Having reached Mysore we asked for directions to KR Nagar which is the short form of Krishna Raja Nagar. With the help of some people instead of just following the main road we ended up taking a circuitous route which took us past the Infosys campus. Finally however we did reach KR Nagar. It was close to noon and we stopped at a hotel to have a bite and coffee.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The circle in KR Nagar had a pillar right in the middle which was very tall, tall enough to be touching the clouds. (Well… atleast in the photograph)</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEol8rT-I/AAAAAAAAAfE/SLkbk_8jXe4/s1600-h/A017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEol8rT-I/AAAAAAAAAfE/SLkbk_8jXe4/s320/A017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366677370137432034" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">We asked for directions and proceeded towards Chunchankatte. Along the way my friend suddenly asked me to stop the bike. With no clue as to what was so compelling I followed my friend. It was a tree which had been cut. Just the stump stood there. As we looked at it a question popped up. How does one count the rings to find the age of the tree? I tried but I lost my way while counting what I thought were rings.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEofkgYDI/AAAAAAAAAe8/q1wg25gaBXc/s1600-h/A019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpEofkgYDI/AAAAAAAAAe8/q1wg25gaBXc/s320/A019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366677368425439282" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A little further we found some villagers working in the fields. There was a lady who caught my friend’s attention and as her photograph was being taken we could hear her shout excitedly to her husband. She was so thrilled that her photograph was being taken that she asked her husband to pose for a photograph too. Wish we had been closer to them so that we could have gotten better pictures of them.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Continuing ahead we passed through a village. People walking around leisurely, kids playing, cows and hens were all there. We even saw red chillies spread out on the ground for drying.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Continuing our journey we passed some fields. There were plants which had pink flowers that caught our fancy. They looked beautiful. We tried in vain to identify these plants. As the curiosity got the better of me I walked upto a villager nearby and asked him. He said it is called hogegida. I wasn’t sure what it was and the perplexed look on my face prompted him to put his fingers to his lips in a fashion indicating smoking. It suddenly struck me, these were tobacco plants. My friend and I were both excited with this new discovery. Such beauty and to think that it’s leaves can kill.</span><br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpANFl6qiI/AAAAAAAAAeY/vurCWh_HxHI/s1600-h/A028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366672499549055522" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpANFl6qiI/AAAAAAAAAeY/vurCWh_HxHI/s320/A028.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Kingfishers sat on the electric cables and teased us. Just as we raised the camera they would fly away. We were like two kids running behind the kingfisher. A farmer working in the fields was quite amused at all this and he said why are you taking photos of only birds, take our photos also. He called his friends too and posed for a photograph and they were very thrilled to see themselves on the display of the camera. Ahhh!!! Not often do you get to see genuine smiles.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Bidding goodbye to our farmer friends we continued our journey. In one of the fields a few birds caught our attention. Along with a little egret was a bird which we had not seen too often. Yes, a black headed Ibis was happily having lunch in the fields. Our excitement had to be kept under control lest the birds get scared and fly away. Even as we were busy shooting the black headed Ibis another bird snatched our attention. Gosh! It was the black Ibis. It reminded me of the phrase jab bhi deta hai to chappar phadke deta hai (please don’t ask me who is the one who gives).</span><br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMzZ7k4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/HnZBqkBDYZE/s1600-h/A039.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366672494666945410" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMzZ7k4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/HnZBqkBDYZE/s320/A039.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Finally we reached Chunchankatte. Even as we parked the bike I could hear the majestic roar of the falls. We walked past the temple and a small bridge led us to the falls. We lost track of time as we walked down the boulders and sat with our feet in water. The water cooled our souls and we just sat there allowing River Cauvery to take us into her beautiful arms. She caressed us with a fine spray of water.</span><br /></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMuayuNI/AAAAAAAAAeI/lGkCrtXAhoA/s1600-h/A052.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366672493328382162" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMuayuNI/AAAAAAAAAeI/lGkCrtXAhoA/s320/A052.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It is said that Lord Rama along with Sita had accepted the hospitality of a local couple named Chuncha and Chunchi right here. Sita, who was tired, asked to take bath and Lord Rama directed Lakshmana to shoot an arrow into the rock. The water pouring out from where Lakshmana is supposed to have shot an arrow gushes out in three different shades. The three different shades being that of turmeric, shikakai (a fruit used as natural shampoo) and oil. Another interesting thing here is that the roar of the waterfalls can be heard except from the Sanctum sanctorum of the Kodandarama temple. It is believed that Lord Rama, tired of the constant complaining of Sita, cursed that the tongue of a woman should not be as sharp. Hence, Cauvery, considered to be female cannot be heard inside the sanctum sanctorum where Lord Rama resides.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Hopping from one place to another to enjoy the waterfalls we finally settled down very near to the falls. Looking towards the left we were bewildered. Cauvery was flowing silently and gracefully akin to a bride. Just before the falls she looked like a group of toddlers giggling. And then she transforms herself into a powerful falls, her roar ferocious enough to send shivers down the spine. It was amazing to see this transformation.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">With heavy hearts we bade goodbye to Chunchankatte falls and headed towards Mysore. Our plan was to meet one of our friends who stays in Mysore and then go back to Bangalore. As luck would have it our friend was working and could get free only by evening. It was dilemma time once again, to stay or not to stay. A flip of the coin finally decided for us. We would stay back to meet our friend for dinner.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">After a long search we found a place to stay which was very near to the palace. Once freshened up we ventured out and walked around only to be blessed with a power cut. The whole street went dark before the generators sprang to life to drive away the total darkness. The clock tower looked magnificent in the night light. Color lights beautified the place where the statue of the Wodeyar king stood majestically.</span><br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMTURjxI/AAAAAAAAAeA/SQ9dW_NcwCE/s1600-h/A075.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366672486053285650" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 242px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpAMTURjxI/AAAAAAAAAeA/SQ9dW_NcwCE/s320/A075.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpDqyyMtvI/AAAAAAAAAe0/kecrHbKWUhw/s1600-h/A076.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnpDqyyMtvI/AAAAAAAAAe0/kecrHbKWUhw/s320/A076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366676308431255282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Finally our friend arrived and we went to a restaurant nearby for a lovely dinner. Dinner finished, it was time to retire for the night.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">To see more pictures of day 1 </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/ChunchankatteDay1#">Click Here</a><br /></span></div><div align="justify"> </div></div></div></div></div></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-59938984722208008472009-08-03T16:36:00.000+05:302009-08-03T17:06:33.916+05:30Chunchi N Sangama<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Devarayanadurga bike ride was great, just like most of our bike trips earlier. For our weekend trip on Sunday 19th July, 2009 we decided to plan our trip for a change and Mekedaatu was the destination we came up with.<br /><br />An early start as planned did not materialize and we started off at around 7.00 am in the morning. We hit Kankpura road and the Karnataka tourism department board declared Mekedaatu was 79 kms away.<br /><br />As I was driving one of the buildings caught our eye and we decided to explore it a little. The board at the main gate said “Shankaraa… Yours for the arts”. Tailoring, embroidery, karate and a few other classes are held here what the elderly person at the security window told us. The compound wall itself caught our fancy. When we peeped inside Lord Ganesha was sitting pristinely under a lovely mantap. A few ducks waddling around on the lush green lawns inside the compound had me wishing I could be working in such a lovely place.<br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHScl8j1I/AAAAAAAAAW4/Awb1fqDLCZQ/s1600-h/A003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365695125785448274" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHScl8j1I/AAAAAAAAAW4/Awb1fqDLCZQ/s320/A003.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />We had breakfast at Adiga’s and resumed our journey. Along the way we saw a pond filled with lotuses. It was a beautiful sight to watch. The lovely pink colored flowers dotting the green leaves compelled me to park my bike by the side and take a few pictures. A pleasant surprise was in store for us. A pheasant tailed jacana was stealthily walking around on the leaves. Alas!!! I could not manage to get a good shot of this beautiful bird.<br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHSirnqaI/AAAAAAAAAXA/Uxdqr_lMmws/s1600-h/A007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365695127419857314" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHSirnqaI/AAAAAAAAAXA/Uxdqr_lMmws/s320/A007.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />It should not take more than 2 hours to cover about 80 kms. Ideally speaking that is. More than 5 hours might sound very difficult to explain but if you are crazy like us stopping at every possible opportunity to see the birds, butterflies, mountains, trees, flowers, passers by and the myriad interesting things around us then everything falls into place. How often do we stop to see a bird preen it’s feathers? When was the last time we stood still, afraid to even breathe, just to hear the lilting call of a bird? How often do we let the innocent radiant smile of a child captivate us? Have there been incidences where the sight of a mountain or a cloud invokes images of something else we have seen earlier? Ever wondered how that curious hollow in the trunk of a tree is formed?<br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTHL-EuI/AAAAAAAAAXI/63706D7xB3g/s1600-h/A019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365695137219220194" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTHL-EuI/AAAAAAAAAXI/63706D7xB3g/s320/A019.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />Allowing our hearts to dictate the progress of our journey we moved along doing the things mentioned above. Just then the sight of a huge water body lured us into turning our bike towards it. A black shouldered kite perched on the electric cable grabbed our attention. We stood and watched. It rewarded us by taking off and flying around. And then… what we saw made us gasp in sheer admiration. The kite simply stopped in mid flight and stayed still, almost as if hanging in mid air. I had not seen something like this in south India. Only during one of my Himalayan treks had I seen a raptor do such a thing. If only I could have captured that moment on camera.<br /></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTePPftI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/9pbro_t1wlY/s1600-h/A024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365695143406960338" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTePPftI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/9pbro_t1wlY/s320/A024.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />While walking towards the lake I stopped dead in my tracks. This grasshopper was the reason and it was gracious enough to pose for me before it decided to do the famous vanishing act of the Gods in Indian movies sans the sound effects (remember those TINGGGG sound effects?).<br /></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTn7-fII/AAAAAAAAAXY/Zt-_LoZO7mU/s1600-h/A025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365695146010508418" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbHTn7-fII/AAAAAAAAAXY/Zt-_LoZO7mU/s320/A025.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />The lake was quite huge. Dark clouds majestically floated by in the sky. Mountain ranges sheathed in greenery where there were no huge boulders formed the background. A strong breeze created ripples in the water. These small ripples flowed towards the bank and back. They reminded me of a connoisseur of food lapping up a delicious dessert; slowly, gently, savoring it with all that he has.<br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJB6eAdI/AAAAAAAAAXg/vH2owRvbxQs/s1600-h/A029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696063516574162" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJB6eAdI/AAAAAAAAAXg/vH2owRvbxQs/s320/A029.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />The lake beckoned me with it’s soft gurgling sounds as it played with the stones on the bank. How could I not accept it’s invitation? Settling down on the edge of the lake I let it all soak in. The caress of the breeze let me know that it was happy with my taking time to sit there and be with them. I closed my eyes, content to just be there.<br /><br />It was time to bid adieu to the lake and we slowly made our way back towards my bike. I picked up a dead dragonfly lying in our path. After taking a picture of it and putting it back down on the ground I looked back at the lake longingly.<br /><br />Riding towards Mekedaatu we passed quite a few villages and we stopped at Aladahalli. It was already past noon and we were beginning to feel hungry. At one of the bakeries we had a quick bite and then started our journey again. It was a mistake that I did not ask for directions. Instead of taking a left turn we went straight ahead. A helpful villager thankfully gave us directions and we headed back. A curious arrangement of boulders halted our ride for a few minutes.<br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJcHAkHI/AAAAAAAAAXo/73INStGdlsM/s1600-h/A037.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696070548492402" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJcHAkHI/AAAAAAAAAXo/73INStGdlsM/s320/A037.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />At one of the villages we saw a temple of Sri Mutturaya after whom the village was named.<br /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJgf4ysI/AAAAAAAAAXw/uwxWf0ThvWE/s1600-h/A039.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696071726582466" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJgf4ysI/AAAAAAAAAXw/uwxWf0ThvWE/s320/A039.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />Speeding towards Mekedaatu on a fairly good road I happened to notice a board which showed the direction for Chunchi falls. Yet again our hearts made the decision for us. Reaching the Chunchi colony we asked for directions and made our way towards the falls. There were a few cars and bikes parked announcing the presence of visitors. We made our way towards the falls and immediately realized that there was not much water. Instead of walking all the way down we decided to head back towards Mekedaatu.<br /><br />Even before we could reach our bikes we found ourselves chasing birds and bees again. It was lovely to watch the birds and the bees suck the nectar from the flowers as they flew from one plant to another.<br /></span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJ32YmiI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FX8SieBoFMo/s1600-h/A040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696077994957346" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIJ32YmiI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FX8SieBoFMo/s320/A040.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIKKgRihI/AAAAAAAAAYA/ba2s1JiOKv0/s1600-h/A042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696083002493458" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIKKgRihI/AAAAAAAAAYA/ba2s1JiOKv0/s320/A042.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />Here is a shot of the road we traveled on.<br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIcN4tPDI/AAAAAAAAAYI/M-Cv1YQrB34/s1600-h/A047.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696393147923506" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 242px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbIcN4tPDI/AAAAAAAAAYI/M-Cv1YQrB34/s320/A047.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />We finally reached Sangama and saw that the place was crowded as expected. The water level was much higher than during my previous visit. The garbage was also much more and I did not feel like venturing into the water. It is sad to see such a beautiful place being littered. Ahh… how many people have written this? And how many times??? Yet…<br /><br />There was a huge crowd waiting to take the coracle to reach the other side. Looking at the number of people on the other side which leads to Mekedaatu we decided we will come back later when the crowd is likely to be smaller. </span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbI4O1rYiI/AAAAAAAAAYY/8aSOuxJNA20/s1600-h/A050.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365696874439991842" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SnbI4O1rYiI/AAAAAAAAAYY/8aSOuxJNA20/s320/A050.jpg" border="0" /></a><div align="justify"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />Our drive back was yet again dotted with lot of bird sightings. One more wonderful trip came to end. When we started Mekedaatu was our planned destination. We did not go there. But what we did see warmed our hearts and brought a smile on our faces.<br /><br />To see rest of the photos from this trip <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/ChunchiAndSangama">Click here</a><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6178928712764678909.post-24116757088315970572009-07-15T13:48:00.000+05:302009-08-04T10:33:21.402+05:30Devarayanadurga - Our First Post<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">We are friends, two of us. Traveling on my bike to known and unknown places to be one with nature is one of the many interests we share. Though we have been traveling for quite some time this is our first attempt at blogging. So here goes......</span><br /><div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Having watched two movies on the night of Saturday and going to bed only at 3.30 am it was inevitable that we would get up late on Sunday morning. It was the first Sunday of the month, 5th July, 2009. It was close to noon by the time we had our breakfast and headed out towards Tumkur road on the spur of the moment having thrown all mundane concerns of washing clothes, paying bills, groceries, cleaning etc., to the winds.<br /><br />We had no specific place in mind and just as well. The Tumkur road was nothing like I remembered it. Ofcourse it had been quite some time since I had traveled in that part of the city. Once we managed to cross the Yeshwantpur junction the game of snake roads started. The ongoing Metro work meant we had to constantly move right and left. Right, there were no snakes on the road but the road itself had taken up a snake avatar.<br /><br />By the time we left the snake road behind to hit the highway we saw some sheep grazing and the shepherd sitting a little distance away with an umbrella in his hand.<br /></span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0hY3VlpI/AAAAAAAAAMA/nIc6FIBNgII/s1600-h/B001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0hY3VlpI/AAAAAAAAAMA/nIc6FIBNgII/s320/B001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359693148506658450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">A little ahead we saw a board put up by the Karnataka tourism department. We had a choice of going to Shivagange, Siddaganga, Devarayanadurga, Madhugiri or Siddarabetta. After a little bit of you decide… no you decide between me and my partner the onus fell on me to pick a place to go to. What a slice of good luck it turned out to be that we decided to go to Devarayanadurga. Read on to find out why.<br /><br />Though there were signboards which showed directions to Devarayanadurga there was a lingering doubt in my mind whether we were going in the right direction. At one of the toll booths we asked a policeman for the same. He was very helpful and gave us the directions.<br /><br />Accordingly we continued till Kyathsandra and then turned towards the Siddaganga mutt. From the mutt we were directed towards the Urdigere road by two more very helpful policemen. Once on the Urdigere road we continued going straight. The drive all along gave us a treat of lush greenery all around. And then we saw something beautiful. Flowers… pink, white and purple embedded in green.<br /></span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0hpgjpmI/AAAAAAAAAMI/hupLxkgkRAk/s1600-h/B002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0hpgjpmI/AAAAAAAAAMI/hupLxkgkRAk/s320/B002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359693152974513762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Namada chilume was just a few kilometers away when we decided to take a break to enjoy the trees and flowers all around us. Except for the occasional sound of vehicles passing by it was very quiet and peaceful.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0h6Kl3pI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/FkDAu-Ndba4/s1600-h/B003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0h6Kl3pI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/FkDAu-Ndba4/s320/B003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359693157445787282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">It just got better when we noticed a few monkeys on the trees across the road. I wanted to shoot them and went across the road armed with my partner’s camera. It was a joy to watch them eat and play. There were a couple of very young ones clinging on to their mothers.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0iELUKHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/SBm0rbAkkFw/s1600-h/B004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0iELUKHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/SBm0rbAkkFw/s320/B004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359693160133175410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Pretty soon we reached Namada Chilume. I parked my bike and bought the entrance tickets. We had walked just a few steps past the gate when the rain Gods decided to show their pleasure (or was it their displeasure?). We ran towards the line of shops across the road and stood under the plastic sheet that was tied there. Churmuri and hot chilly bajjis kept us occupied till the rains abated.<br /><br />It was a small walk to Namada chilume and I liked the sweet little place with some stone benches and a little pond.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0ifpZK0I/AAAAAAAAAMg/E9auSGd18wc/s1600-h/B005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF0ifpZK0I/AAAAAAAAAMg/E9auSGd18wc/s320/B005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359693167507090242" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">The story goes that Lord Rama shot an arrow into the boulder to get water for preparing the tilak to apply to his forehead. Right next to the place from where water is spouting out of the boulder is the impression of Lord Rama’s feet (so they say).<br /></span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2zud2doI/AAAAAAAAAMo/sq-k9ebLX-o/s1600-h/B006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2zud2doI/AAAAAAAAAMo/sq-k9ebLX-o/s320/B006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359695662566241922" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">There is a deer park within this compound. We watched the spotted deer and took some photographs. We left soon after for Devarayanadurga.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2zjemt4I/AAAAAAAAAMw/PDFiG4nlNtw/s1600-h/B007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2zjemt4I/AAAAAAAAAMw/PDFiG4nlNtw/s320/B007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359695659616614274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Though the drive was very short it was just beautiful. The view as we snaked up the road was, to say the least, breathtaking. The greenery, the mountains, the clouds……<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2z6eDOoI/AAAAAAAAAM4/u8wPT9X26Ss/s1600-h/B008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF2z6eDOoI/AAAAAAAAAM4/u8wPT9X26Ss/s320/B008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359695665788304002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">The guard informed us that the temple on top was closed and only the other one was open. We decided to just look around and head back. As we were coming down the hill the Sun peeking out of the clouds was mesmerizing. We sighted a lot of birds too.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF20GCalcI/AAAAAAAAANA/1ohqpL5GO2c/s1600-h/B009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e7OOMYrX8-w/SmF20GCalcI/AAAAAAAAANA/1ohqpL5GO2c/s320/B009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359695668893619650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">On our way back we decided not to go back towards Kyathsandra and took the road to the left which headed straight back to Bangalore. It turned out to be a good decision yet again as we passed a small water body. The lush green meadows, the serene waters, the rocks, the trees and just about everything was so beautiful that we decided we will visit this place again very soon.<br /><br />After the late breakfast we had not eaten anything other than churmuri and chilly bajjis. So we decided to have an early dinner in one of the dhabas along the way. The law of averages had to catch up with us and it did. We saw a lot of dhabas on the other side of the road but none on the left. Finally we decided to take the Nice road instead of heading straight towards Yeshwantpur. It was kind of depressing because the Nice road, though good, is devoid of any shops and you can’t stop anywhere. By the time we got off the long Nice road we could not help but remember Saif Ali Khan’s dialogue in Dil Chahta Hai… “tumhe kya lagta hai? Main roz is takiye pe baithta hoon?”…….<br /><br />P.S: For more pictures from this trip <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/agoniesandecstasies/Devarayanadurga">Click Here</a><br /></span></div>AgoniesAndEcstasieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17811085744231955343noreply@blogger.com0