A compilation of 36 short stories based on my experiences of travelling on the roads of India, I’m happy to share that my second e-book is now available for my readers.
My book- ‘Stories Through Souvenirs‘ is a compilation of my stories of meeting people, hearing their stories and the learnings from my experiences. These are the stories of how these stories influenced me to become who I am.
Do give it a read and I am sure you will like it 😊
It was long travelling distances leading to high altitude destinations, where cold winds were abundant and oxygen levels lower. For those of us travelling across North and East Sikkim, it had been a long and a tiring trip thus far. Each day of our weeklong travel through this little but important Indian state had been a different experience.
This post is part of our weeklong stay in Sikkim covering Gangtok – Mangan – Lachen – Gurudongmar- Lachung- Zero point – Rumtek – Gangtok – Nathula – Zuluk – Siliguri
Long ago, I had seen a jaw dropping photograph of the old silk-route winding and passing through Sikkim. It had since been my wish to see that view in real. The old silk-route had once served as a major trade route connecting China with the rest of Asia and Middle east. During this trip in Sikkim, we decided to drive along that scenic route during our exit from this tiny state. Hence, the route chosen by us was: Gangtok > Tsongmo/Changu lake > Nathula Pass > Nathang valley > Lungthung village > Thambi viewpoint > Zuluk >Rangpo > Siliguri
Only Indian nationals are permitted on this stretch of East Sikkim and an inner line permit was obtained from Gangtok on the morning of our departure.
It had been a cloudy day since dawn break and the drive for the initial stretch felt pleasant as we passed through the wavering peace flags all along the highway. We learnt about the significance of these peace posts in Buddhist culture while conversing with our taxi driver. The white flags are installed in memory of a deceased person by their kith. Similarly, the multicolored flags are believed to bring good luck. Ideally, these flags are supposed to be installed high up in the mountains where the winds are stronger. The wind is believed to free-up the soul of the deceased or bring good energy, depending on the flag’s colour. With reducing space for hoisting more flags and the ease of finding a hoisting place by the roadside, it is now common to find them all along the highways of this Buddhist majority state.
Sooner, the clouds cleared up making way for a gleaming sun in the blue sky. We arrived at the Tsomgo lake in a while. It is a serene lake that is popular among the tourists. We clicked a few photos with the yaks grazing around its periphery before proceeding towards the Indo-China border at Nathula pass.
Nathula was crowded. People were amok and erratic. They had no idea what to expect at an international border. Some were standing in attention with a salute to the Indian tricolor, some were touching and praying the fence that marked the border. Some were putting their feet across the barbed wire to get a feel of going to China and a few more were busy chasing the men in uniform of the Indian army for selfies. And for us, it was a urge to run back to the warmth of the heater of our vehicle 😛 It was biting cold even during the peak of the day. We walked up to the point, saw the border gates of both India and China, the respective embassy buildings, the Chinese and the Indian army camps posted high up and also got a distant view of the mountains that marked Bhutan. We did a quick walk through, taking in all the good views and returned to our vehicle as quickly as we could.
After squeezing out of the maddening crowd at Nathula, we continued our journey towards Nathang valley, only to be stuck in one of the worst traffic jams we had experienced in Sikkim. The last and the major destination on a typical touristy circuit is the temple of Baba Harbhajan Singh. Baba Harbhajan Singh is a folklore hero and an ex-army soldier whose spirit is believed to be roaming around the place, protecting the soldiers posted at this extreme terrain. There are old and the new temples dedicated to him, both maintained by the Indian army. We managed to find our way out of the choco block and continued towards Nathang valley.
Beyond the army temple, I can conveniently say that it was just us all the way. The roads were deserted, except for some BRO trucks and excavators clearing up the landslide prone path and laying new roads. We passed through what the army claims to be world’s highest altitude golf course, several army camps and tiny discrete civilian settlements along our way. Our drive through Nathang valley, thereafter, was something beyond comprehension for our senses, it was so beautiful!
All that we had envisaged of this journey at the time of commencing this drive was passing through a viewpoint and reaching Siliguri for the night’s stay. But as the journey unfolded, we were in for surprises. That day, the clouds had embraced the valley like never before. The road that we were driving on, seemed as if it was curving around the edge of the land. It was clear blue sky with the sun beaming bright and the thick clouds engulfing the horizon. The rhododendron plants had blanketed the entire valley, which I’m sure must be a visual delight during their blooming season. We stopped, like at every half a mile to capture the landscape in our cameras, alas justice be done to what the human eyes saw.
But by late afternoon, the sun had started to descend to the horizon and the fog had taken over again. Our visibility of the road ahead and the possibility to see the view that we wanted, had both now become zero. Our driver soon pulled off our vehicle at a tiny settlement enroute to enquire for availability of a place for us to stay for the night. Lungthung is a tiny village on the valley, with barely 3-4 houses, that too made with metal sheets. By staying in a homestay there, we were going to be the only outsiders for that night at Lungthung!
The mercury level was already below zero. But as the night rolled in, the winds too got stronger. The clouds cleared up and the stars and the planets shone brighter than ever. It was our last night at Sikkim and the coldest too! Even as we sat inside the host’s dining room, relishing the handmade thenthuk, we felt like our roof was going to be taken away by the winds. No amount of firewood could keep us warm. Even if we simply stood up for a moment to adjust our seats, they would freeze again. But as I said earlier, it was our last evening at Sikkim before we got back to the grind. There was no way we would hit the bed early. We sat outside, counting stars quite literally… The sky was clear, the moon lit up the road below and a lone filament bulb illuminated a roof at a little distance. Apart from an occasional goods carrying army truck that toughed it out on the slope, there was no civilization around us for miles together… It was an experience so wonderful that we hadn’t imagined about remotely, even a few hours ago… Not in my wildest dreams, had I imagined that I would live a day of my life ON the silk-route!!
Anyway, not really being able to sleep due to cold temperature and the noisy sheets fluttering outside our room, we still rolled into our blankets and set an alarm to wake up early. Our host at the homestay had recommended to walk down the road for sunrise…
The following morning, it was almost impossible for me to even think of coming out of the blanket. I snoozed the alarm a couple of times. But then something happened. My eyes had one glance at the window glass, and it was enough motivation for me to get my butt off the bed. It was a breaking dawn…. The sky had a streak of deep red, visible right at my window, seen from my bed…. It was for sure, unusual from any normal day. The view made me forget the cold and barge outside to not miss the complete visuals of an unfolding day… I woke my brother up and my friends and we all raced towards the viewpoint that we were told about. We didn’t mind slipping down a couple of times on the frozen roads.
At such high altitude and low temperature, the running didn’t help to warm us up. As we reached the viewpoint, we were panting for breath and had our jaws dropping. We were gasping, awestruck in amazement at the sight around us, chattering due to the freezing temperature and everything else happened to us at the same time. The moment is inexplainable!
We were standing at Thambi viewpoint and had lost the sense of place for that moment. The Kanchenjunga had lit up in crimson in just a few minutes and the winding roads through Zuluk valley appeared deep down in a while. It was a day and an experience like never before! It was our last day at Sikkim and I could only say that the best was indeed saved for the end!
This article has been featured in Deccan Herald National daily’s Travel supplement on 29-May-2022 Edition. Click here to read.
My visit to the arid land of Spiti was my first solo trip in all sense. I have previously spoken about its beautiful landscape and the wonderful people through my blog posts. But, on a personal note this travel has been one of the most impactful trips of my lifetime. So, here is the entire story in the form of an e-book.
Through this book, I seek your company while I backpack alone on a trip to the mountains. I want you to join me when I gate crash a mountain wedding and dance to the first snow. I want company when I confront a mummy and when I visit a vault full of millennium old paintings. Stay with me as I return home with an unsettling chaos running in my tummy. As you read through the pages of this book, you can bite into the juicy apples of Kinnaur all along, walk with me meeting people and go on a virtual trip to the Spiti valley and back.
You can get your copy of the e-book on Amazon by clicking on the image or the link below:
Yes, I know the language could have been tuned a little more and the English, could sound a little more polished. But, due to reading the same story over and over again, a few mistakes have outflown, my humble apologies! This book had been compiled in the first covid lockdown (Apr 20) and I have been procrastinating to publish it for over a year now, even post 2nd lockdown I (Apr 21). So, finally it had to be done….. But, I promise that my intention of sharing my story and experiences from the road has been compiled to the best of my abilities. I wish you all read, enjoy your virtual trip to Spiti and share your honest thoughts about it…
HAL (Hindustan Aeronautics Limited), Asia’s largest and India’s first aerospace establishment was founded and is headquartered in Bangalore. If you want to walk down this journey of how aviation industry has evolved in India, a visit to the HAL Aerospace Museum, India’s first aviation museum located at the HAL premises is highly recommended. From the first aircraft, Harlow PC to be assembled at its stables to manufacturing the most modern helicopters, planes and equipment for present day requirements of the Indian airfare, navy, railways and space research, HAL’s journey has been a long one. One is bound to get amused in another world by taking a walk between vintage planes, flight simulators, mock ATC and all things associated in this subject of fantasy at the museum hall. Now, this place leads me to my next destination: The IISc (Indian Institute of Science).
That morning, I had ordered a plate of idlis at this little restaurant on the IISc campus. Just like any other day at that restaurant, the environment was abuzz with the chitter chatter of the people I was surrounded by. A typical scene on any given day includes the best scientists of India and abroad discussing new experiments over a plate of food in what is one of the premier research institutes in the country! Irony has it that similar discussions happened under the same roof, sometime in history. But back then, the discussions were about something more strategic and destructive. It was right here that a bunch of people discussed a war plot. What is now the top-of-the-notch science and technology institution in India, served as a hub for maintenance and repairs of the aircrafts during World-War II.
In the late 1930s, a factory meant for automobile maintenance was setup by an industrialist named Walchand Hirachand in the present day IISc campus. History has it that on his way to China, Hirachand chanced upon a meeting with William D. Pawley who was attached to the Intercontinental Aircraft Corporation of New York, an American aircraft exporter. This connection lead to the procurement of the necessary tools and equipment from the US to setup an aircraft production line in India. It was in December 1940, with funds from the Mysore state, the Hindustan Aircraft Private Limited came into being. The plan was to manufacture the Harlow trainer, Hawk fighter and the Vultee attack bombers at this factory. However, this required huge manpower that was trained in Aeronautics which lead to the establishment of the department of Aeronautical engineering.
The structure that housed the aeronautical engineering department was designed by German architect Otto Koenigsberger. Otto Koenigsberger was a young Jew who had fled his country during the Nazi regime and was later in time, employed as the government architect of the erstwhile Mysore state. His architectural design is an amalgamation of European and traditional Indian styles and can also be seen in the present-day metallurgical department and the hostel office on the IISc campus along with many structures across India. Talking about the aeronautical engineering building- it is an oblong structure with high ceilings and narrow corridors that integrated natural climate control. He has also designed the closed-circuit wind Tunnel, the first of its kind in India and hydrogen plant among other things that are associated with aircrafts. With all the technical back up from IISc, it was in 1941 that Hindustan Aircraft Limited (HAL) assembled the first aircraft in India: A Harlow PC-5.
Meanwhile, the threat posed by Imperial Japan loomed large in the on-going World War II because of which there was a need by the British Royal Air Force to boost its military hardware supplies in Asia. With all likelihood, HAL was most suitable as a base for the South East Asia Command of the allied forces for servicing their aircrafts. Hence, all the aircraft manufacturing plans in India were abandoned to support the repair and overhaul services of the American aircrafts and the factory was eventually taken over by the US Army Air Forces in 1943. This led to rapid expansion in the facilities and became the 84th Air depot for overhaul and repair of American aircrafts during WWII. The very same hydrogen plant on the IISc premises was used as a loading dock to supply hydrogen for the American aircrafts. Later in 1964, the factory was taken over by the Government of India and has morphed into the modern-day Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) in its present-day location. However, the original Aeronautical engineering department continues to contribute enormously towards research and has its own little airstrip on the present day IISc campus.
As I finished my plate of idlis, I wondered how unassuming I was. This deceptively functional place had just served my meal that had just been cooked inside a hydrogen plant that powered the military aircrafts during WWII.
This article featured in the ‘Spectrum’ supplement of Deccan Herald National daily, on February 01, 2020 edition.
As kids, we always imagined fairies with wings flying amidst colourful gardens, rope like creepers hanging across the forest thickets, rainbows emerging on the tranquil sky. Do you agree when I say this is how most of the animated movies depict fairy tales ? Nestled deep in the rich forests of Meghalaya; with NO exaggeration, that’s how I would describe this village called Nongriat!
This post is part of my fortnight long road trip across North-east India, specifically covering parts of Meghalaya – Assam – Arunachal Pradesh I had tagged along with two other travelers and drove around the state of Meghalaya visiting Shillong – Smit – Cherrapunjee – Mawlynnong – Dawki – Ribhoi- Shillong.
A pleasant drive through the breathtakingly beautiful valleys and naturally formed creepy high limestone walls brought us to a village called Tyrna in Cherrapunjee. That’s where the tarmac ends and our car had to be parked. Further, we trekked down to the Nongriat village: where the ‘Umshiang bridge’ or popularly called ‘the double decker root bridge’ exists. One needs to climb over 2500 steps each way, so that this piece of marvel can be seen at close quarters. Root bridges are created by inter-weaving the roots of the rubber tree by the tribal folks who live in the deep forests of Meghalaya for their local commute across the bloated rivers during monsoon. A bridge fit for usage can take a minimum of a couple of decades and it only gets stronger with age. There are several such living root bridges across Meghalaya and most of them continue to be untouched by the tourists due to their remoteness. We were here, to tread on some of the most popular living root-bridges of Meghalaya.
Although, there is a well laid out path of stairs all the way, we thought it was wiser to have a localite who would enrich us with the facts and figures that we wouldn’t get to learn otherwise. At Tyrna, we met a Khasi villager from Nongriat who agreed upon to guide us through our trek. We passed through several sacred groves and areca farms belonging to the villagers. After decending about 1000 steps, a small deviation to the right indicated the way to Nongthymmai village. We took this deviation to reach the ‘Ritymmen root bridge’ a single bridge and another old one next to it which has taken its toll due to the negligence by the localites. Our hearts were jumping with joy at the first experience of treading on a living root bridge, that we had only read about until then… I decided to throw my shoes away for a while and enjoy the feeling of walking barefoot on the bridge.
After spending some time, we decided to continue the trek and our new friend cum guide, continued to enlighten us about the rich traditions and culture of the Khasis. We stopped by for a quick breakfast at a straw hut selling 2-minute noodles and lemon tea. Further, a short climb of stairs continued only to be awestruck by the marvel of indigenous engineering: The double decker root bridge, the main motivation for us to trek this far. It was like fantasy out of a fairytale: creepers hanging across a little waterfall, fed by a pristine river in the middle of nowhere! It was tempting to get our feet wet as we watched a few tourists who had stayed in the Khasi homes around the root-bridge over the previous night and enjoying their swim in the cold waters. However, spending some time admiring this piece of absolute marvel, we decided to move ahead, towards our next mission: Rainbow falls!
Nature’s best kept secrets are those which are untouched due to their remoteness. Rainbow waterfalls being one of those. The small number of tourists who make it till the double decker bridge seemed to have had disappeared there onwards. The tiring path ahead was going to be tiring, we were told. But, nothing comes easy.
I was doing this trip post monsoon (October to be precise) and that’s when the caterpillar larvae take wings! Like winged fairies, we were greeted and accompanied by butterflies of all colours, shapes and sizes all along the stretch from Umshiang bridge (the local name for the double-decker bridge) till the rainbow falls. We had to be extremely cautious while walking, clear the way for ourselves with a stick, lest accidentally step on these little winged beauties. The path was so full of butterflies, that it cannot be expressed with words and the joy can only be experienced. Truly, in every sense: I was Alice, walking in wonderland!
It was a walk of nearly 2hours through the thickets of the sacred forests and crossing at least 5 other root bridges and a couple of metal rope bridges that were laid across the deep river that flowed down with its seductive clear blue waters. After the brisk climb, we had finally arrived at the place where a hidden jewel of nature unfolded itself, from amid the greens…
We stood there in AWE….. the green trees and bushes had opened up to display a canvas with milky white waters gracefully tumbling down into a pool of turquoise blue and a hundred fairies flying around us. A dozen spectrums added to this heavenly scenery! On a clear sunny day, there could be 50-100 spectrums around the waterfall, giving the place its name: Rainbow falls! We enjoyed a couple of hours in calm just by sitting beside the naturally formed swimming pool as we were the only people in this fairyland and restoring our lost bond with nature that was shared long ago.
As described by our guide, camping at the Mawsmai caves (2hours trek further) and climbing up the hill to be greeted by the Nohkalikai waterfalls, the highest waterfall in India would have been a complete story! Unfortunately, we hadn’t known much about the enchanting beauty of this trek before embarking on it and had no preparations now, to have it extended further. So now, it was well past afternoon and distance that required to be walked back was long. The sun sets early in this part of India and that meant that we had very less time of daylight left. During our return, we stopped by at another hut near the Umshiang bridge for a late lunch where we relished a simple Khasi meal of rice and bitter lime curry.
The walk back from there onwards was taxing and it is a very steep climb up the 2500 odd stairs.. I stopped several times at the little homes and stalls put up by the villagers on the way to keep myself hydrated with the local energy drinks and fruit juices. I cannot forget the way our guide cum friend Denzil kept motivating me to complete the stretch. He kept reducing the count of steps by hundreds so that I would climb faster with the intention of reaching the top ASAP. Finally, I was back at Tyrna, even while there was sufficient sunlight for us to drive back to Cherrapunjee.
A small deviation from Tyrna will lead one to ‘Ummunoi root bridge’ in the Laitkynsew village, one of the oldest bridges in the viscinity. It has been truly a very refreshing way to explore ‘the abode of the clouds- Meghalaya’.
My first thoughts about visiting a national park used to be safaris, birdwatching and game sighting. But my trip to Kanger valley national park in Chhattisgarh helped me change that perspective by letting me understand that a trip to a forest can be beyond wildlife. Even without having any major landmarks to visit, a trip can be complete by simply traveling slow, being present and immersive in the energies of the moment.
A walk tour around Jagadalpur set a good preamble by introducing me to the culture and history of the tribal communities and the royal family of Bastar. Jagadalpur is where most rituals of the Bastar Dussehra center around. Bastar Dussehra, the longest festival in the world is celebrated for seventy-five days thereby attracting tourists from across the globe to witness the congregation and unique rituals of Adivasis inhabiting the region.
We then drove towards Kanger valley National Park, the only national park in India where human settlements is allowed within the heart of the forest that is thriving around the Kanger River. A sumptuous lunch served on patravalis was followed by a walk to see the beautiful Thirathgarh waterfalls and the serene Sita Kund, important sites of pilgrimage in the local culture. After spending some time there, I went on a guided trek to Shivaganga, an untouched gem. ‘The seclusion of the waterfall, reachable by a flight of bamboo stairs laid out through the thickets would be best complimented by an overnight camping and the dance of the fireflies’ as described by the guide.
That night’s accommodation was at an Adivasi homestay. A traditional greeting was followed by warm conversation with the host family, accompanied by homebrewed Mahua liquor and red-ant chutney around a bon-fire, in the courtyard overlooked by a huge Mahua tree. The night’s sky there is certainly a delight for astrophotography enthusiasts. I woke up for sunrise and joined my host on his walk along the riverbank to collect ferns for a perfectly organic meal to start our day. With the mud and bamboo houses, wooden fences, dining on cow-dung smeared floors, slow-cooked food in claypot and on firewood with locally available ingredients, my stay was an incomprehensible experience of sustainable living.
Among three magnificent limestone caves located within the national park, we explored the stalactites and stalagmites of Dandak caves. A fifteen-minute session of meditation inside the dark and silent chamber of the cave was transcending. A Gypsy ride to Kanger Dhara waterfall was followed by bamboo rafting on the pristine and calm waters at Kailash Jheel. Since, our campsite was at a walkable distance from a tribal hamlet, I sneaked out and spent time at the local fair there. Tribal folk had congregated from all neighboring hamlets to watch the ‘Naat’, a theater form where excerpts from epics are adapted into local stories and performed all night.
The next morning started early with an inspiring birding session along the river trail as I was accompanied by a ‘Myna Mitra’, the friend of the Myna birds. This is an initiative by the forest department toward conservation of the Hill-myna, the state bird of Chhattisgarh by getting the local forest dwelling tribal youth involved to track the daily activities of these birds. We got lucky to spot a pair of these birds, the highlight for a typical wildlife trip.
After a quick meal, we headed towards Gumadpal to see a 14th century Shiva temple. Historians haven’t yet found the reason for its unique three-tiered Linga. That day happened to be the weekly market or haat, as locally called. A walk around the haat was another opportunity to get a closer understanding of the local way of life. Haats do not just provide for trade but also for worshipping local deities, entertainment, socialization and even matchmaking. A few women were singing and dancing to the local songs and asked us to join in as well. It was surprising to know that barter still exists here. I tasted local food like tubers, mahua, tendu, and a variety of local brews and wines. Jewelry and home-décor items in dhokra, a GI tagged craft made by a method believed to be practiced since over 4000 years were being sold among several other unique crafts of the region. I witnessed an energy packed session of cockfighting as well.
Having travelled to Chhattisgarh and not seeing the poster boy of its tourism advertisements, did not seem fair. River Indravati plummets down with all her might in a horseshoe shape, making Chitrakote waterfalls the widest in India. I checked into the government run luxury resort to spend my last evening, where every cottage offered a view of the setting sun over the waterfall. A ride in a country boat right into India’s Niagara waterfalls was just the prefect way to say good bye.
From waterfalls and caves to tribal hamlets and local markets, from history and folklore to art and craft, from food and wine to mud-houses and palaces, from dance and music to culture and architecture, my experience at Kanger valley national park was replete, wholesome and truly full of surprises!
This travel was part of the ‘Dekho Bastar- Season 1’ event organised by India Tourism Board and Bastar District administration in collaboration with Kanger Valley National Park. The article appeared in ‘Apr~May’23’ edition of ‘Bastar Bhoomi’ magazine.
I am an art enthusiast by passion and an engineer by qualification. I seek to be an art aficionado and a curious kid within me is always on the lookout to learn how things are made and work. In fact, I believe the best art is created by the culmination of science and creativity. As a traveler, I do not miss a chance to visit and interact with artisans and understand how they make things what they are good at.
When I travel to a new place, I try to accommodate time to explore the lesser touristy streets of any place because according to me, the real soul of any place lives in its by-lanes. I try to meet enthusiasts (across genres) and visit their creative abodes or workshops to see things take form.
Here is a compilation of such posts describing the souvenirs that combine two worlds of art and science which one can buy when visiting these destinations.
Britishers chose beautiful and yet strategic places across India to create their summer and recreational destinations, mostly hill-stations. Needless to mention that despite the colonial rule ending seventy-five years ago, their influence in our culture has been inseparable. One aspect of these cultural influences is the slow lifestyle of the people in these hill stations and bungalows nestled amid large plantations. When the British vacated the Indian hill stations, they also left behind all the automobiles, machinery and equipment used in their plantations and factories. With that, a legacy of four-wheel drive vehicles as well.
When I planned a trip around North-east India in 2021, I had included an ascent to Sandakphu-Phalut, a small settlement in northern-most part of West-Bengal on the Indo-Nepal border. I wanted to see the ‘Sleeping Buddha’ at sunrise. The sleeping Buddha is a series of mountain peaks in the Himalayas including Kanchenjunga, Kumbakarna and others collectively appearing like the Lord Buddha resting in the horizon, over whom a golden shade is cast during sunrise. Trekking enthusiasts opt to walk through the Singalila National Park, a week-long trek to reach Sandakphu and Phalut.
But I (along with my brother and friends) planned to summit the trail by road. Not that I was less adventurous or lazy to walk, but I felt that my adrenaline rushed a little more at the thought of being driven on a four-wheel drive vehicle. ‘Why so?’, you may ask.
I am a kid who was born and raised in the south-western hills of Madikeri. ‘So, what?’, one might think. Madikeri, in Kodagu is where the Britishers have played an influential role in raising a culture of using and loving our four-wheeled drive vehicles. The jeeps from the Mahindra stables are like family for the people of the coffee hills. Be it the Willys, left-hand-drives, petrol engines and all that followed, you will find them all in shining spec and ruling the roads of Kodagu. This natural affinity for automobiles in my genes and the nature of my profession that lets me earn my daily bread (I’m an automobile engineer by profession), I don’t think my choice of transport needs further elaboration. So, for me the thought of a drive in the north-eastern hills exuded more thrill than trekking through the woods.
The vehicle here in discussion is a vintage ‘Land rover Defender’ that is at the least, as old as the Indian Independence! Maneybanjang is a small town that serves as a base for the Sandakphu trek. But it has gained the moniker ‘the Land of Land rovers’ for it is home to over 40 vintage Land-rover Defenders. These vehicles were used by the British to tame the unpaved terrain of the tea plantations at nearby Darjeeling and surrounding hills and were left behind when they left India for good. These vehicles are now the proud possessions of individuals living in this village who have now formed a ‘Land-rover owners’ association’ from whom rides can be hired by travelers who want to see the sleeping Buddha.
For someone from Madikeri who found an instant connection with Maneybanjang, it was like a love-story between coffee and tea. It was a meeting of the grasslands of Western Ghats with the snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas. As it was the last day of Deepawali on the day of our arrival at Maneybanjang, we also witnessed the local culture of how Deepawali was celebrated in that part of the world. With a mixed influence of Hinduism and Buddhism, the Indian and Nepali, the Gorkha and the Bengali cultures, it was indeed a unique experience. The localites form groups and go from house to house all night singing, dancing, and spreading joy, much like carol singing. That night, we too joined them during our stay and immersed ourselves in the local culture.
On the following morning, we started our journey from Maneybanjang around 08.00.a.m. in the morning and stopped at several villages, check posts, viewpoints until we reached the homestay at Sandakphu by evening. We tried local cuisine, yak cheese, fresh brews, and aged fruit wines along our way. We hiked around to get to the nearest sunset-point, even though the fog had engulfed the entire atmosphere. We cooked noodles with the locals in their kitchens and grooved to their native music before calling it a day.
On the following morning, we woke up as early as 04.00a.m. to climb up a small, elevated point from where we would get a wholesome 360degree view of the rising sun and the sleeping Buddha. We were chattering and shivering in the freezing cold as thin sheets of ice were crackling under our feet. But when the sun started to come out, the few minutes of spectacle was simple breathtaking.
Post breakfast, we drove up to Phalut, walked around the place and planned our descent. Not without taking a lot of photos with the machine we have travelled on thus far. It was early evening when we finally made it back to Maneybanjang, thus ending our date with the ‘Defenders’. It was a bittersweet moment as we had to leave each other’s company. Sweet for the drive, the vistas, and the thrill; Bitter for having to depart without knowing when we would be back again.
We hired a local taxi to proceed towards our next destination- Gangtok, for the night.
Initially, when a friend mentioned the destination for an impromptu drive on a Saturday morning, I hoped to correct him by telling it was ‘Biligiri Ranganathaswamy Betta’. “No, it is Bili-Kal’, he specified. ‘Bili’ translates to ‘white’ in Kannada. ‘Giri’ means ‘hill’. ‘Kallu’ means ’stone/ rock’. In this context, we were both talking about two different destinations. Although the presiding deity at the temples located atop both these hills are common, Biligiri is more popular than its counterpart at Bilikal. While Biligiri forms the core of Biligiri Ranganathaswamy Temple (BRT) tiger reserve, Bilikal is in the heart of a reserve forest that comes under Kodihalli wildlife division of Bannerghatta National Park. So, this time, we were heading to ‘Bilikal Ranganathaswamy Betta’, the closest of the two to Bangalore city limits, reachable through Kanakapura road.
We stopped by Halagur town for breakfast which has several old and popular eateries that serve unique types and authentic recipes of idlis for breakfast. (Comment below if you need hotel recommendations). Post this break, we followed google maps to reach our destination.
There is a forest check post enroute where one needs to make an entry to continue the journey ahead. The temple hill can be summited via two routes, one is a trek route with stairs, and another is through an unpaved road that is clearly marked till the end. Although four-wheel drive is not mandatory for those opting to drive up, it is recommended to have a vehicle with good ground clearance.
Upon reaching the peak, it was a large open area which came as quite a surprise. While one side of the hill had the temple pond dug into the edge of the rocky hill, the main temple of Ranganathaswamy is located on another side of the hill, overseeing a magnificent view of the surrounding hills. The main deity is carved out of a large monolithic rocky outcrop on the hill, which makes this place unique among all that I had visited thus far. There is a small sculpture on this rock which we were told is the original figurine of worship until it was damaged many years ago. Since then, an alternate idol has been carved out of the larger rock and a simple temple has been built outside leading into the prayer chamber within the monolithic rock.
Next to the temple rock, is another old and small room like stone structure. A few localites who were present there told us that it was the house of an old lady Kamalamma, who lived there and had dedicated her life in the service of Lord Ranganatha. Amid the wilderness of the thick jungle, she lived all alone in the belief that Ranga was her caretaker. She was accompanied by a few cattle that lived there whose milk was used to distribute buttermilk to pilgrims who arrived there every Saturday after a tiring ascent by foot (before the drivable route was laid out). She is no more, and her tomb is now housed inside the structure where she lived.
A short climb from this structure is another viewpoint, where one can sit on the rocky outcrop under the shade of the surrounding trees and take in some good views of the valley around. We returned after spending some time there. Overall, this was a pleasant and an offbeat outing from the city.
Suvarnamukhi is located inside the reserved forest area within the boundaries of Bannerghatta National Park which can be accessed through a main road till its base. This was one of the unplanned and random destinations that my family had arrived at, a couple of years ago, which I believe needed to be documented.
It was a brief hike through the forest terrain which was rough and interspersed with bushes and rocks that lead us to an ancient temple. Along the way, we observed pebbles and stones arranged in circular and a maze-like pattern depicting various complex themes. We were told that it dates to the pre-historic era and represents some kind of tribal worship or dolmens.
Walking past, we arrived at the AmbaBhavani and SriBhavani temple which was closed at the time. There is a pushkarini / Temple tank in front of this temple whose water is believed to be able to heal skin ailments. I was told that the tank is emptied once a year, to worship a Hanuman sculpture that lays at the bottom of this tank.
A short walk away from here is the Champaka swamy temple, an important site of local worship. Alternatively, people arriving by own transport can park their vehicles at the Champaka swamy temple before starting their hike towards Suvarnamukhi. The relevance of these temples and the pond in Indian mythology attracts people in large numbers on special occasions to visit this place.
A few meters away from the temple is the Vahnigiri peak, which gives an unhindered view of Bangalore’s expanding skyline. I remember spending some time sitting atop the rocky hill as the wind continued to waft past us before walking back down through the forest.
The entire hike trail passes through thick forest area that will be frequented by wild animals including elephants. This visit of ours was a few years ago when we needed no forest permits. It is recommended to check the latest rules with the authorities for any relevant permits before venturing out all by yourself.
Story continued from ‘The story of my radio part 1: Seeking Restoration.’
On 25th February 2022, my radio had finally found a person who was willing to give a try on it. My brother had carried the radio to the workshop where it was supposed to undergo an inspection. The moment my brother kept the radio on worktable, it crumbled into pieces. The cabinet opened from all edges and roaches ran out. With a perplexed look on his face, the radioman shared his apprehensions about being able to restore the job and the high cost involved in the process. Upon our request to give it a try without worrying about the cost, he agreed.
The complete cabinet and dial-cord were broken, speaker paper was torn to bits, band-switch needed re-wiring, dial-lamp was burnt, backplate was bent, grill cloth was torn, Veneer and dial-glass were peeling off. These were some of the initial observations made during the physical examination. A coil and a valve needed replacement as informed on the following day after a functionality check. An approximate cost of restoration was informed for my approval. “There is no price-tag for the emotions associated with this radio, kindly go ahead.”, I approved with an advance payment.
Our radioman is a passionate collector and a restorer of radios by hobby and not someone who does it as a full-time job. Unlike repairs, restoration processes are long, tedious and requires a lot of patience. As the case with all projects which he takes up, he discussed my radio too with his community of radio enthusiasts across the globe and contacted friends in his circle of know-how. Everyone recommended him not to take up this project as they all believed it was beyond the possibility. In the eventuality of it not working even after so much effort and money being spent on it, they warned him to brave the brunt of being blamed by or facing the disappointment of its owner (me, in this case). However, upon my affirmation to not give up, our radioman took this by his stride and as a personal challenge to make every single equipment entering his workshop to go out in a workable condition.
Among all equipment that he gets for restoration, he described mine to be one of the toughest. Hence, he periodically updated me the status of the restoration process whenever he was with it in his workshop. In this case, the torn parts were replaced. The grill-cloth was procured from a textile store that was about to shut down at Shimoga, the brass knobs were retained after being hand polished for several days (without the aid of any chemicals), the coil was rewound with new wire, a new valve was sourced through a Facebook community of radio collectors living abroad. The cabinet was newly sawed and painted by the radioman himself.
‘Madam, your radio is now working. You can come and collect it anytime’, he had messaged me. It was a moment of excitement.
Finally, my brother and I were at his little workshop cum museum of his personal collection of radios to take delivery of our ‘little project of determination’. My determination to get the radio fixed and determination of radioman to ‘fix’ it at any cost. Beaming with a wide smile, standing at the gate of his residence to greet us was Mr. Uday Kalburgi, the radioman of Bangalore and the magician who had breathed life into my ‘box of nostalgia.’
A portion of his house serves as a ‘Short wave radio museum’, his personal collection of vintage radios from across the globe and a tiny workshop to take up not-for-profit radio restoration projects. It felt like walking into an era bygone as he excitedly narrated the story behind each of the unit in his collection of 180-odd radios. The story of his craze for radios started with a radio displayed at the entrance which consists of a small coil and receiver that was made by him as a young boy of class five when he couldn’t afford a radio. It now is a home to fascinating stories from world-wars, flight crashes, kingdoms from around the world to gifts from modern collectors. Our conversation around short wave radio had travelled long around the globe for a good number of hours until my brother and I realized that we had other scheduled work to catch up elsewhere.
Little known until we returned home that evening, it was 25th February 2023. It was exactly a year ago that this story of my radio began when it was handed over to the magician who put back life into it.
Fact file: ‘Short Wave Radio Museum’ located in Basaveshwaranagar, Bangalore is a personal museum, open to the public on all days and the entry is free. Since it is also the place of the curator’s residence, it is required to call him over phone before planning your visiting.
I was raised by my maternal grandparents. I grew up and did my schooling in my hometown. Those were the days when telephone (landline) connection hadn’t reached our home yet. Since it was a small town, it was an untold rule for everyone to be back home by 06.00.p.m. or the sunset hour in a general spoken sense. The town too would shut down between 07.00. to 08.00.p.m. So, if anyone was late to return home before the curfew hour meant they were in trouble and everyone else in the household would get worried. Post this hour, radio and the black-and-white display TV were part of our daily entertainment where the entire family sat together and listened / watched news, music, and talk-shows. Akashavani and Doordarshan, to be more specific. The radio was kept inside a ‘Radio potti’ (a wooden cabinet made specifically to keep the radio, Potti translates to a chest/box in Kodava) and the TV stood on the TV stand (yet another customized wooden table where the Television was placed). Well, the story of the TV for another post. Today, let us talk about the Radio.
Our radio was a ‘National Ecko, 1960s make’. So, that means, it was at home even before I was born. But, by the time I was in primary school, only two people in the house had the permission / knowledge to operate the radio- My grandfather and me. There might be no specific reason for this privilege, that is all I recollect now. Maybe because my grandfather was the seniormost person in the house and did not believe that anyone else could be careful about operating the radio (a proud possession in those days) or it could simply be because no one else in the house wanted to put effort to move their butts and operate it and they were comfortable in simply giving orders to play or change channels. Whatever it was, the quality time when the entire family gathered in my grandparents’ bedroom, warming themselves around a room heater, listening and conversing around the content played in the radio have been very fond and memorable to me.
Years passed and my grandfather left us. More modern radios and colour TVs took over the house and the world. A few more years passed, and the good old radio was shown its place in the attic. Finding place in the attic of a traditional home in Coorg meant being discarded and regarded as useless. Attics were usually used as warehouse for old, unused goods of the household and as storerooms for food-grains for the coming seasons. Two decades passed and the radio and its TV sibling were forgotten that they were veteran entertainers of the home sitting in the attic. One fine day in 2018, on a casual walk on the attic my eyes accidentally fell on the radio. The dust and moisture of years had taken over the radio feeding and breeding fungi, termites, and roaches. A volcano of nostalgia had erupted within me when I decided to get it fixed before it would be erased from its physical existence.
I wanted the radio to start playing again, that’s all I knew. I got it home to Bangalore assuming that there will be some experienced radio repairers in the metropolitan city. I searched around a bit and enquired with friends who live in the old city area of ‘Pete’ and Shivajinagar. I visited a guy in the inside lanes of ‘Pete’ who assured to repair it in a week’s time. A few weeks passed without hearing from him. Upon enquiry, he said that he couldn’t find a part for it and would be willing to fix a modern equipment inside the vintage cabinet. His recommendation didn’t make sense to me. I carried it to a couple of other workshops with the ‘Radio repair’ board and they laughed at my pursuit. That’s when it struck to me that my radio required a good restoration and any repair wouldn’t help.
I googled some more and got contact numbers of professional restorers in other parts of India. The Mumbai numbers didn’t work. Another person from Hyderabad was featured in several newspapers. I decided to carry my radio to Hyderabad, meet him before handing over my radio to him. Taking the delicate equipment by bus or train would be difficult and I had to plan a long drive if I had to drive a car. There were several failed plans before I reached Hyderabad. Then, covid struck the world and India went under lockdown in 2020. Hyderabad was one of the worst hit and that added to my fear of travelling.
Then one fine day, I read an article on ‘Deccan Herald’ about a radio magician in Bangalore. “BANGALORE? Why hadn’t I heard about him before?” I thought. The article also carried his contact number for whoever wanted to get in touch with him. I guess that was the last try I had in my mind before giving up on my pursuit to bring a dead radio back alive. I dialed his number, and he told me to get the radio for an inspection. It was on 25th February 2022 that my radio had finally found a person who was willing to give a try on it. My brother had carried and handed over the radio to the radio magician.
Story continued as: The story of my radio part 2: A Radio Museum Visit in Bangalore
We all know that the widest waterfall in the world is the Niagara, and it is in America! So, we take it for convenience to use Niagara as a synonym to refer to every other wide waterfall in our region. But how many of us have really seen the widest waterfall in India? Or for that matter, how many of us have seen the widest waterfall of our own states within India? Irony is we surely know Niagara, but we might have not even heard of the one in our own backyard.
So, here’s my attempt at listing some of the widest waterfalls in the Indian states that we love to call the Niagara of our country! (Note: These are by width of the waterfalls and not by their height)
The WIDEST waterfall in India is this, where river Indravati plummets down a horse-shoe shaped gorge. A beauty to behold in all true senses, a ride in a country boat to right under the waterfall is a spell-binding experience.
Chalakudy river cascades down a rocky gorge forming this spectacular waterfall is something that one would not want to miss on their next haunt to Kerala to explore its backwaters and canals.
Formed by the Ghataprabha river, Gokak falls is Karnataka’s best kept secret. A walk on the hanging-bridge laid right across the waterfall when it is flowing full, is an experience worth considering.
As river Kaveri enters Tamil-Nadu, she plummets down forming this beautiful waterfall where a coracle ride is highly recommended.
An unexplored beauty, the Cheekupally stream cascades down forming this waterfall that has still been off the radar of mass-tourism.
Assam is mainly a low-land / plain area with Dima Hasao district being its only hill-station. The high altitude of the region holds some of the best waterfalls of the state as well, among which Panimur waterfalls formed by the Kopili river is its best-kept secret.
Some may revere it to be the highest in Madhya Pradesh state, but I couldn’t find an equivalent in width to match this place of natural beauty which is formed by Sellar river in Rewa district.
Thanks to its year-round rainfall, Meghalaya is a land of waterfalls, each being spectacular on its own. Talking about wide waterfalls, this set of seven-segmented waterfalls drops down a limestone cliff at Cherrapunjee which looks spectacularly wide when it is full during the monsoon-season.
Formed by the river Ambika, a jeep ride through a nice green landscape to reach this waterfall is what the locals recommend to enjoy this visit better.
This is my humble attempt to enlist some of the widest waterfalls, picking one from each state in India. Let me know what is the widest waterfall at where you are?
As a high school student, I was intrigued by the terminologies called ‘Stalactites’ and ‘Stalagmites’ in my Geography curriculum. ‘These were formations of calcium deposits formed by continuous flowing of water over several years, below the Earth’s crust’, it read.
“These structures are beautiful to see. I had the opportunity to visit one of these underground caverns during my visit to France. We walked down a flight of stairs and then were taken on a boat, to see stalactites and stalagmites, underground”, my geography teacher said. Her voice echoes in my ears even today, because back then my jaws had dropped in awe wondering how beautiful the landscape and topography of the countries outside India were. I wished to see the stalactites and stalagmites someday.
Cut to today, I am so glad that time has been kind on me with so many opportunities to explore my own country, India. These opportunities have opened my senses to realize that “India is a world”. From snow to deserts, mountains to beaches, plains to rainforests, the landscape comprises of EVERY type from across the world! Based on my travels, I have seen some amazing cave systems in India. Without including the caves that have been part of India’s ‘art and architectural heritage’, here are five best places in India where you can explore caves in their natural form.
Top on the list, there are hundreds of caves that are open to explorers, hundreds being discovered every day and maybe thousands that are still unknown to people yet. ‘Krem Liat Prah’, India’s longest cave system is in Meghalaya.
‘Borra caves’ in Andhra is the largest cave in India. A heritage railway line passes just above this limestone cave. Having such a big cave system is proof and motivation enough to know that several other caves are available in this region waiting to be explored by adventurers and tourists alike.
The state sitting within the mythologically important forests called ‘Dandakaranya,’ these forests are home to several limestone cave systems that are yet untouched by mass-tourism. Only about 57 caves are known to people as of now, and there is immense scope for exploring new caves. The remoteness of the places adds to the joy of the explorer while caving in Chhattisgarh. The video of exploring a cave at Bastar, Chhattisgarh is shared below.
This archipelago and Union territory of India is one of the best kept secrets of nature enthusiasts who want to go caving. In fact, this is where I saw a stalactite and stalagmite for the first time in my life. The connectivity of these remote caves located on different islands through a channel of interconnected mangrove forests passing through pristine blue sea water makes it a memorable experience.
While all the above cave systems I have enlisted above are limestone caves, Karnataka is home to some of the beautiful sandstone caves which are scattered across the middle and northern region of the state. Unlike underground, the caves in Karnataka are formed above the earth’s surface and give a completely distinct perspective of exploring this state, which is my home-state as well!
The Lost Lander 