<Dated: Sometime when I was three or four>
Every girl has a Superman in her life.. For some it could be her father or in some case- a distant uncle.. And for me- it is “My Super Grandpa”.The wooden bridge layed across a brook in my hometown is one of the many reasons for which he is immortal in the memories of the nearby villagers even a decade after his departure. So, now I get down to how this happened:
There are three ways to reach Abbi falls:
- A motor able asphalted road- about 8kms from Madikeri town. The most comfortable one if you have own transport from the town.(Lots of details are available on the net)
- A partially adventurous one- about 8kms from Madikeri. One needs to take a private bus from Madikeri to Kootpole. And trek for about 4 kms to reach the falls.
- The most adventurous route(difficult)- trek through thick jungle lined by deep valley on one side and thorny bushes on the other side.(Will write about this one some other day)
“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I choose to write about the 2nd route- The closest to my heart..!!
It is in this route, that one has to cross a brook in order to reach the waterfalls. When I say a brook- it is not a small stream that you can jump across; especially during the monsoons. One needs to walk over a carefully laid wooden bridge holding tightly onto nothing more than a thin steel wire..!!
This is a bridge which is not meant for the tourists and that is why it continues to remain unknown. This bridge is actually one single tree kept across the river carefully. It was laid across with a purpose of providing accessibility to the nearby villagers who could not afford a taxi for daily commutation.
And among these villagers, the one who stands out is “The Superman- My Grandpa”. He is the sole man behind the existence of this bridge. From selection of the finest tree(neeredithakai Mara- in Kodava Thakk), to gathering labourers to pull it all the way up from his estate to the river bank and putting it across the rivulet(about 60 feet wide)- he is the only mastermind behind it all..!!
I recollect faint memories of sitting by the side and watching all this action as a little girl… Some 25 odd men pulling the tree up the sloppy estate, I lending a squirrel’s help with my tiny hands to my grandpa in his mission, getting a pat on my back for my hard work.. And once the bridge was done, I remember the days when grandpa used to hold my hands tight and teach me how to cross the river.. It just fills my heart with coldness…
This bridge stands strong till date- even after bearing all seasons for more than two decades now.. It is become a part of the villagers’ everyday life… Though it was built with the idea of having easy access for grandpa to reach his estates every day, he did not restrict it only for himself. It was open for the public too, helping all the villagers living around this area. This truly stands out as a symbol of his greatness… And I miss him so much every time I walk this way or I hear of people speak of this great man..!!