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.

Kids ... I love to play with kids.

After a long and tiring day, we were deep in the depths of groggy sleep. All the curtains were pulled in place to simulate a clouded wind blow day, with the A/C in full blast. Somewhere in the dark bottomless pit of our gama states we heard the faint tones of our phone ringing. Pushing the cover off and walking out of bed like a zombie out of its grave, my mother went to get the phone.

“Hello… akka?” It was my cousin on the other end, calling in to ask if we were free in the evening to play host. Guess, the thought of another dumb amazingly stupid Sunday evening waning out in front of the TV, watching peanut brained comparers squeal and squelch was good enough for mother to immediately agree to the interesting proposition. [btw … my cousin has a very loving and engagingly extrovert kid.] Mom even suggested that they stay over longer to have dinner with us. And for me … all of that meant a great time out with my nephew, Aneesh.

It was late in the evening that they finally made it to our place. There was a sound of soft thuds somewhere at the bottom of our front door. I hid behind the door as I opened it for him. And in he walked like Columbus taking his first step on the soils of a new land. And like Hobbes I jumped on him, and scooped him off the floor. Pleasantly surprised, he expressed all the due signs of initial shyness and wriggled out of my grasp. It took some amount of endearing cooing and see-this … see-that kind of prodding to break the thin sheet of ice that was waiting to shatter anyway. Then like a little squirrel he scampered onto his pop’s shoulders to pull out his cell phone to show all of us how he could click pictures and download new ringtones all by himself. Believe me … it was a pretty impressive thing to see a lower kinder garden kid do things. And when he had shown us all the pics he had taken I offered to snap a few shots of him. And to all our astonishment … he climbed on to a sofa and posed like Milind Soman on some modeling mag. cover, like all those photo shoot outs. (Not one … but quite a few professional poses)

Kids, every generation are growing increasingly intelligent. Call it the consequence of exposure or what ever, but there it is. Almost every kid knows how to handle cell phones, play computer games and operate the TV, and a whole lot of other gadgets that my granny would have stared with mounting hostility and walked away in a huff. Interestingly, they get more and more inquisitive. They are able to explore things faster and build on their findings all by themselves with out parental or elder guidance. You allow any of my younger nephews to sit at my comp, they would have tried A-Z every option that would have taken me a few devastating comp lab sessions as a kid, and a couple of frustrated tech teachers, who would keep cursing the Gods of all heavens for having to put up with me. Of course, these kids are choosy. They pick and choose what interest them most and stubbornly refuse to excel in anything outside their felid of interest. But in things that mange to hold their fancy, nothing can stop them. Parents need to approach their kids differently. They need to observe and bolster the kids in their core competencies. Heartening, many do just the same.

Oooops! I am beginning to sound like a child psychologist. But somehow, my interest in kids comes to an abrupt close when I get completely worn out trying to entertain them. That’s when I pity the parents. Most kids are hyperactive, seeking something to do … something to occupy them. And that drives the parents … most often the mothers, crazy. I have another nephew (Kaushik) who is extremely charming and cute … that he could disarm even the wildest creatures with a flick of a smile. But he is the most notorious kid on the block. He has such restless naughty eyes that keep roving all around in search of the nest thing to be broken or torn down. He is always up to some mischief. Whenever I meet his mother, I have the feeling that I come face to face with someone who is undergoing things worse that a Nazi rule. Last year I heard, one fine morning she found herself hunting for a pair of starch stiff new clothes that my cousin had bought for her. She had left the pair on the bed and gone into the kitchen to attend to a lunch that threatened to char. When she came back she found the pair of new clothes missing. Ransacking the entire house, she searched every conceivable corner, till her nerves threatened to split ends. Then in a stroke of lightening flash she turned around to glare at those innocent, questioning eyes, that almost asked her, “Now what? Why do you always have to pick on me? I am the sweetest kid on earth content to play with my dumb toys sitting in one place.” Walking over to my nephew she pleaded on bent knees asking him what he did with her clothes. And he …. in his inimitable style, like a darling precious led her by her tiny finger to the bathroom where he open the commode lid to show how efficiently he had bin-packed her new clothes in. Needles to say she turned white with furry and paler with fear of facing her hubby!

That was just one of the numerous atrocities that my cousin’s wife has to bear with, in the name of sweet doings of a gorgeous, dainty, sweet heart of a kid. As my mother always says, “It is the parents who need counseling on how to rightly bring up a kid, and not the kid on how to grow up rightly.” My mother’s been into counseling for almost a decade now, but that apart, the very fact that I am here reasoning things out this way should help one meet with the fact that she is a good parent!!! Hahahaha …

A trip to Hoganekkal and Yerkard

It is still a surprise, how the whole thing came thru. Seven of us in different places, stuck with our own busy schedules. But I guess it was those timely kinks that pop when you go thru, an otherwise droning hum of meaningless, well structured dumb life. Most of us felt it deep ... that we needed to break away into some freaky oblivion ... some sun kissed beautiful mountain or some shell strewn bright blue beach. After a week or two's live exchange of pepped up mails we reached the consensus that our peep hole to freedom would lead us to Hoganekkal & Yerkard. Hmmm... now a bit on the chosen spots ... Hoganekkal is a beautiful mass of rolling water right between the fast blurring borders of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. It so huge, fast and green that it offers an experience akin to water rafting when u ride the local cup shaped flimsy wafer boats. Then there are the many mini waterfalls, secret spots (well, I'll get to that in good time) and a lot of eye candy!!! As for Yercard ... it’s falsely called poor man's Ooty. A hill station with vast spread coffee plantations and plenty of stupid cliff spots named after every gender/age in the human species (Lady' spot ... children's spot ... God knows what other spots the place sports).

Bali, Sudhir and I took the night bus to Dharmapuri where the rest of the gang (Jaggu, Deepu, Manoj and Sanjeeth) joined in from B'lore. We were too thrilled at the prospects of a long awaited holiday cum reunion, that we didn't mind the sweaty cramped overnight bus ride. Once we reached the Dharmapuri (around 5 in the morning), we had a hot cup of local tea and went about freshening ourselves. In about half-a-hour's time the others landed. Well, actually they came much earlier and had taken a room near by and fell asleep waiting for us. After ample hearty greetings and fulfilling leg pulling, we jumped into the first bus that left to Hoganekkal. It was cool and crisp ride, up and down the slopes of the surrounding hills. On reaching Hoganekkal we found a decent lodge to leave our baggage and have a quick and light breakfast.

Chirpy and happy we skipped and ran towards the boating spot. There we found two boat men waiting to shave us with a mind boggling boat ride each costing Rs.450. After much thought, we went in for it. The boats themselves were nothing but a few bamboo sticks stitched to form a bowl, pretty flimsy ... adding to the whole adventure. We stopped in a few places, midway, where we found moss coated sharp rocks, with the fierce falls very close. Like seals soaking up the sun, we sat there amidst nowhere with the water thundering upon our heads. After we had screamt enough and slipped enough on the thick green slimy moss.... we were schooled away into calmer water where we were promised of serene backdrops of bright green slopes kissing sun colored sands that mysteriously vanished into the grey green waters. My! it was a sight for the Gods who had a bit of adventure in their blood. We pulled over on a small archipelago of wild growth ... the water was still, yet cool ... we all got into the waters while the boat men, resting their over stretched muscles had a quick meal of fried fish. In the water..... it was all that we could ever ask for .... we splashed, ran loose, and did all that we could. The best part of it was, we all learnt to swim in a matter of few minutes.... Deepu was our tutor.... so a best part of the time went in swimming up and down the silent currents of the water.

When we felt our limbs grow heavy as lead ... we decided to crawl back into the boats and move homewards ... it was already noon. The boatmen ... seeing us enjoy the trip so much ... offered an additional 1/2 hour of free ride over the waters ... but we opted otherwise, heeding wisely to aching muscles and growling stomachs. However, before we left the falls we went to a nearby place where the tourism board had built railings beneath an extremely strong falls, where people could have a great oil massage and roast in the sun and then go into the fierce waters holding the railings and feel heaven beating drums all over them. We skipped the oil massage and went under the falls ... that was the icing on the cake .... After half an hours of natures' massage ... we emerged soaking, like a piece of dead wood.

We then rushed back to the hotel, dressed up and checked out. Catching a bus back to Dharmapuri, we all fell into a blissful stupor. On reaching our initial meeting place, we found a suitable restaurant, had a belly filling meal, and dashed to take a bus to Salem ... Jaggu's home town.

We reached Salem around 4 in the evening. Jaggu took us to a good hotel where we booked our rooms for the night. Had a wash, fell into a short nap, woke up and got dressed to go over to Jaggu's place to meet his parents. Had coffee at his home and with ample pleasantries exchanged, slipped out to make it in time for a movie at a near by theater. Not a good movie ... but.. fine. After the film we went to a local eat out ... out in the open under a cool black night's canopy of dazzling bright stars. Closing the dinner with generous helpings of multi-flavored ice-creams we dragged ourselves back to our rooms and pulled the sheets over our numb heads.

The next morning we all got ready by 7:30 and went over to Jaggu's place, where his father had booked a sumo for us to go to a place called Yercard, a hill station about an hour and a half's journey from Salem. With a sweet brown coffee quickly gulped down we sped towards the hills. There we visited many spots ... none too extradinary or out of the world ... but just had fun with photos and climbing over safety railings to walk around not-so-dangerous cliffs. We spent around 5 hours there, and drove down back to Salem. With lunch over by 4:00 we had to rush back to the rooms, for the B'lore people had to catch the 5 o'clock train ... for which they had to go and buy the tickets at the last minute.

Some how, managing to make it in time ... we jumped out of the same sumo into a bustling crowd at the station. Waving a quick and pretty unceremonious farewell to the B'lore guys ... we made it to the bus stop where we Chennai guys took our bus back home.

On the whole ... the trip was more than satisfying ... All are eagerly looking for the next best opportunity to make another great escape into such wild holidays.