A get away at Courtallam

It was that time of the year when the chain of mails begin to pour in, trying to stir the hornet’s nest, asking for interesting holidays spots that the batch “Navis” can bless to press the signet of fond memories upon. As usual it was Jaggu and Bali who took the max initiative. The choices varied from hill stations to seasides, to thick unseen jungles. Anywhere, where the weather would be delightful and the escape from routine life refreshing. After an ignited span of hot debating and Bali’s determination, it was “unanimously” decided upon that the paradise on earth that we would grace would be “Kuttrallam”.

Kuttrallam is a huge water falls that has gained exceeding popularity down south in India for reasons more than one. To begin with, rumors fly saying that the waters of this falls bear a therapeutic value, that when it lands crashing and lashing on our bear backs, as long as we choose to stand like buffalos in the rain and then walk out numb, we’re supposed to feel exhilarated, well massaged and completely rejuvenated. Of course, side effects vary from a prolonged distant siren-like whining in the far depths of our dark, waxy inner ears; a distant feeling of disconnected reality where we begin to wonder whether we’re still alive or half way up to hell and a couple of other symptoms which vary on a case to case basis depending on how much of a mash mellow one is.

The second most significant reason for this falls popularity is the number of incidental deaths of scrawny jelly legged people who come here annually to have bath, but miss that most needed foot hold over some slippery stone or boulder and choose to dive deeper into the unexplored depths of the gargantum falls, unfortunately never to return back to civilization. May the souls rest in peace, I mean them no ill will.

And to such a place we went, young and brave at heart. Three of us from Chennai and four from Bangalore. It was the peak season. Tourists from all over India, rather people who strongly believed that they should have their annual bath only at Kuttrallam, flocked and flooded the place. We looked up for a hotel on the internet and booked it over the phone. Take my word, not every hotel in Tamil Nadu that advertises on the net is tech savvy or decent. As things would have it, this one was a pathetic cramped hole for which we were robbed blind. One look at the room and it took me a great amount of self consolation and rigorous auto suggestion to calm myself down. It was only the joy of meeting the others from Bangalore that helped me turn a blind eye to the room’s aesthetic settings.

After all the hearty back slappings and leg pullings, we got ready to go to spot A, Shenbhaga Devi falls. This is a smaller falls which is approximately an hour’s trek through thick dark jungle. The reason why we didn’t go for the main falls was the frenzied clamor of a huge swarm of annual bathers pushing and dashing and standing in a long snaking queue just to get a chance to wet their scalps under the ragging thunder of the falls. We didn’t come all that way for just getting wet. We came for fun, fun that would last longer, at least longer than what the life guards at the main falls thought was permissible. After a quick coffee at the small stall in front of our danky lodge, we set of with our backpacks and polythene bags stuffed with towels and change of clothes and our cameras dangling from our necks, wrists and shoulders. I guess it was the trek that was more interesting than the falls themselves. Stopping over at every spot that presented a promising vantage point that would draw the ooohhhhs and aaaahhhhs of the people who would get to see the pictures we took, we posed and clicked away to glory. Every now and then, like the omnipresent monkeys that followed us, we would get drawn to wayside vendors selling spiced up pieces of mango, pineapple and gooseberries. Reddy and myself would keep munching and eating non-stop, while our official junk food sponsorer Deepu, would keep bailing out Rs10 notes at everyone of our stop overs.

Roughly about an hour and a half later we were at the falls. It was by no mean secluded or less crowded or anything that we imagined it to be. It was swarming, but … it wasn’t as bad as the main falls; there were no queues. Quickly splitting up the group into two, we got into the water while the other took care of our belongings. It was a small but fierce falls, falling over huge rugged mountainous boulders into a huge cup shaped basin at the foot of it. We had to walk over the rim of the basin, clutching a flimsy railing to keep our shaky balance; to get to the side where the men took their dips and showers.

Carefully scrambling on all fours we climbed half way up the boulders to stand in niche spots to enjoy the roaring and lashing of the falls. The water was cold and refreshing. Some how, standing half naked on slippery rocks under a treacherous falls seems more dramatic than taking a normal routine morning shower. (Oh! By the way, we in India take a shower every single day of the year, but of course with in the humble confines of our tiled bathrooms.)

After an hour or so, when we had enough of that tango-drums-played-on-your-head effect, we began climbing down to get into the basin at the bottom of the falls. None of us who got into the waters knew swimming, so we planed to stand waist deep at safe quarters on the rim of the basin. Reddy, Sara and myself stood as a group; when Sara and myself out of some sudden found spirit of discovery-kind-of-adventure decided to get deeper into the water. And so we began, hand in hand, gently drifting into the grey-green waters like some dreamy lovers!!!(Oh! For heaven’s sake!) All of a sudden in the same gentleness, the sure footed athlete that Sara is, began loosing his foot hold on the algae ridden pebbles that formed the bed of the basin. Like a slow motion scene out of Manoj Night Shaymalan’s movie, Sara started getting pulled deeper into the basin, purely due to the effect of serendipitous gravity and a pair of desperately thrashing arms. And all through we continued holding hands!

Before I realized anything I was getting pulled in, and began loosing my foot hold as well. Within seconds I was splattering with water getting into my nose and mouth. Sara, who turned all the more desperate, did what any hell-scared drowning guy with no idea of how to swim would do. He clung to my neck like a pallid squid trying to keep afloat. God! I knew he thought of me as a rubber head, but this proved it all!

Wage little bits and pieces of swimming class lessons from some long forgotten childhood memories splintered into my now racing mind. I tried some form of “Zambian” underwater cycling striving hard to keep afloat. But you get the picture, right? Its all too hard when someone is trying to hold you down under water like a rubber tube. So we eventually went down faster than we thought we would. All that panicking added to the soreness of our limbs.

But surprisingly amidst all that craziness, a clarity of thought dawned on me, like a clearing in the jungle. Boy! That felt as if I was standing on the other side of the door of death, just waiting to push through. I knew well that Sara and myself would go down try as much as we may to avoid it. But our best chance was to grab the attention of the others who were swimming at a distance from us. So I diverted all my energy in trying to signal to them asking for help. And then …. In seconds I went down. It was all too clear. In that split second I totally accepted what I was going through. Surprisingly, I thought of no God, no scenes of my life flashed across my mind. It was just an engulfing feeling of complete acceptance. I soon became unconscious as I gulped down gallons and gallons of water.

When I came to my sense, I felt a hard pull at my arm, and I was being helped towards the edge of the basin. Coughing out water, I burst into a fit of laughter and began looking around for Sara. There he was, not far from me, perched on a rock still shivering from fear and cold, with the blankest of expressions on his face. This was the first near death experience I had had. (Of course! Those exams at school and being confronted by enraged parents over dark score cards are beyond death experiences!) Loitering a little longer, we walked out of the basin towards our dry clothes. Later over hot tea and spicy mirchi bajji (a special sausage kinda food with a huge chilli in it) we recollected the whole episode. By far this was the most defining moment in my recent past after I left college. It made me question myself why “I” should have gone through all this. What was it that I was supposed to carry back home (apart from my living myself) out of this experience?

After this episode everything that I cared to cast my eyes on seemed to wear a new look. I felt reborn, no …. I felt as if the entire world around me was recreated. It was a beautiful feeling. I wanted it to last forever, like that magical early morning dream that we long never to fade.

Staying a little longer to snap a couple of more pictures, we retraced out steps back to our lodge. Soon we packed our bags and checked out heading towards Tirunelveli, for the next day we were to cover a few more falls. Landing back into the heart of a bustling township we found a decent hotel and guzzled and gorged on what ever crap the restaurant had to offer in the name of dinner. Absolutely worn out for the day we slipped into our rooms and crept into our beds.

Come day 2, we had a light breakfast and typical south Indian coffee and alighted a bus that rumbled through lush green waves of rice fields towards a place called Ambasamudram. We had plans to grace a few other water bodies that was on Bali’s list. Ooopppsss…. The names of these smaller and less known places seem to evade my poor memory always. Anyway, we had to take another motored metal box that ran on four wheels carrying a crowd of over stuffed helpless people. The first falls that we landed at was simply too crowded and fared no good on our internal evaluations. So we discarded it and went on to climb the hill near by, to which more adventurous souls around there pointed. But they warned us that the water there was far deeper and more dangerous and only experienced swimmers went that far. We were driven nuts by the long ride and the thought of an entire day going of waste. So we trekked upwards climbing over neatly decked steps towards a Shiva temple right at the top. Once there, we busied ourselves looking for safe shallow spots where clear water flowed. Sara, chose to stay on in the temple, while the rest of us getting roughish by now, changed into our shorts and found deep and perfect cuts in the rocks where we could lie down with the cool waters running over us. We spent nearly three hours fooling around clicking pictures and catching small colored fishes and chit chatting over everything under the sun. When the sun got blazing, threatening to char our delicate complexion, we decided to pack and leave for the day. The rest was one sad story of how we got back to our hotel, promising to go on more such holiday get aways … and parted ways to get back to our homes … back to our daily lives… routine work … syrupy sweet coffee and stale damp biscuits at office.