And Away We Go

Chapter - 0 : House Of Cards

'Pra, let's go to Sharavati Valley. Jog falls, water sports - and Harsha says the Dabbe falls trek is good too.' 

'Cool. Let's start the research. Stay, food, permissions etc...' 

15 days to go. 

'Damn this forest department website looks like the place where you register your high score in Super Mario.'

'And none of the people listed under Shimoga zone are in Shimoga anymore. It's like they all did a scam and scampered.'

12 days to go. 

'Apparently there is no other accommodation near the sanctuary except Sharavati Adventure Camp. And they're charging like Club Mahindra.'

'Let's try to look for accommodation in Muppane. They'll also have water sports.'

10 days to go. 

'Dude a guy posted an article about how he got robbed by some Mafia in Muppane, and the names seem very similar to the ones we've been talking to.'

'Yeah. And some random number one of them gave is showing up on Truecaller as Always Busy...'

8 days to go.

'Hey Shankar, checked the group lately?'

'Yeah. Some eighteen people, right?'

'Hmm. Check again.'

6 days to go.

'Oh, finally found a guy called Ramu from forest department. He'll arrange everything for us, for 2500 per head. He's asking for 10,000 in advance, though.'

'Hey, his display picture on WhatsApp has a waterfall in the background. Seems legit; let's do it.'

5 days to go.

'Danish, he's saying we'll have to pay extra for one night's stay. And we're on our own for the first day.'

'Harsha also seems very reluctant to give tents. He can't keep coming to Marathahalli to collect them after we're done.'

4 days to go.

'Hey Danish, checked the group lately?'

'Yeah. Some eight people, right?'

'Hmm. Check again.'

3 days to go.

'There's some cab we'll need to hire to go to the Dabbe falls trek and back to Sagara for the bus; on extra charge. These hidden costs are coming out now. And we were thinking of going there and asking for discount.'

'Let's take bare minimum cash with us. And pack your dirtiest, torn baniyan, we'll wear that while talking to him. Also, no dinner today.'

2 days to go.

'Some people are backing out - but we've already submitted their id proofs and everything for the forest department permissions. If we don't get replacements that money will go waste; and we need to find replacements that have the same mugshots as our deserters, or the officers will haul us off to Guantanamo.'

'There are a few people waiting; I'll tell them to take a xerox of the xerox of their Aadhaar Card and turn contrast to maximum and sit on it for a while.'

1 day to go.

'Shankar, Vedant is backing out. He's saying some low bp and fever and indigestion and I think he mentioned arthritis also.'

'Oh God this trip is one house of cards.'

The D-Day.

'Shankar, come on, we've to reach Majestic by 10:30.'

'Wait, I can't find that torn, dirty baniyan...'

Chapter - 1 : It's Always A Bus

I was at Banashankari with Vishnu, a friend of Anjana's from work, waiting for the cab we'd booked to Majestic. Harsha stood there, with the tents and mats; fiddling with the knots.

'This can't go on, man,' he finally said. 'I think you should find another tent guy near Marathahalli. The travelling is inconvenient for both of us.' I felt like I was being dumped.

The cab arrived, and me and Vishnu loaded the luggage. We jumped in and stormed off. The KSRTC bus to Sagara was leaving in half an hour. We bonded hastily over wanderlust, the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Oasis and love for Kerala cuisine. We raced to the first bus terminal, frantically looking for a group that was frantically looking for us. 'Where are they?' Vishnu called out to me, while I balanced a roll of mats and three tents and my phone, asking for the bus location. It turned out six more people had left the bus too, looking for us; and Rhythm - who was sitting in the impatient vehicle - told me the driver was itching to just roar away into the night.

January 26th was a holiday on a Friday. There was no excuse to not go on a trip. We ended up booking public transport, for our group had doubled at the very last moment; and it was about to be halved yet again, if we didn't all stumble upon each other soon.

In the distance I saw a grumbling bus, with some people looking out the window anxiously. I called out to Vishnu and we ran passionately - the only thing missing was a mustard field and a violin-heavy soundtrack.

Shankar and Parag appeared alongside us, freeing us of our burdens and jogging to the bus. We boarded it just in time, catching our breath as the vehicle zoomed away. I looked around the bus, almost expecting people to clap; but they simply turned away towards the windows.

I turned to our group; the veterans were Shankar, Anjana and Parag. Everyone else was new. Rhythm was from BITS Hyderabad, whom I'd come to know through music - she is an excellent singer. In turn, she'd brought her college mates - Madhulika and Aparajita. Aparajita herself had brought Aishwarya (who was from my college) and Pradeep, her colleagues.

Anjana had brought Vishnu, and Parag had pulled in Bhaven; both office mates. The last minute horde comprising of Chetanya, Prashant, Aniket, Ravi and Gaurav had been Shankar's doing.

Lastly, we had Jayasimha; a veteran in a very different sense. He'd been added by Aditya Malpani, from the Kumaraparvat trek. Malpani himself had backed out.

I said my hi's to everyone, putting faces to names, and sat down beside Shankar.

'We get a warm-up before every trek, don't we?' I asked as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, and he grinned. We opened the window, and the breeze brought our heart-rates down in minutes. Me and Rhythm started discussing music - she was really curious regarding the differences between the Indian and Carnatic and Western classical systems; vocally and otherwise. We talked about voice culture, the richness of scales and harmony versus melody, for hours, with nothing but the surreal blue LED lights of the bus around us.

Finally, Parag turned to me. 'I think you're just boring her, and she's listening only to be polite.'

I winced and turned to Rhythm. Her expressions were inscrutable in the dark, and I decided to assume the best.

The bus stopped, and we dismounted for juice and tea, looking at the night sky. It was already clear, with stars popping out. When you left a big city, you were also breaking out of the dusty, cloudy glass ceiling that obscured the true sky.

The driver barely gave us five minutes, and his only warning was the bus suddenly moving off and stopping after twenty metres. I didn't blame him; this was all the fun they got.

This time I sat next to Anjana. She had recently been to Hampi, and told me all about it. I remembered visiting it two years ago. Soon, even the faint LEDs were switched off, and silence was the only appropriate sound. Both of us looked out the window and drifted away.

Long conversations, hypnagogia and surreal silence - it's always a bus.

Chapter - 2 : Voices In The Temple

I was greeted by a familiar sight; dawn through a bus window. I awoke to see Parag dismounting at Shivamogga; probably for a quick pee break. Sagara was still an hour away.

The world brightened slowly, like a developing photograph, and everyone stirred awake. 

'Couldn't sleep at all, man...' I heard, in different voices around me. Public transport for an overnight journey wasn't a great idea; there were no push-back seats, leg-space or even a headrest. It was like trying to doze off in a tiny metallic tetrahedron. 

Sagara arrived, and we collected our bags lazily and dismounted, yawning profusely. Luckily, there was a Pay & Use bathroom right at the bus station, and all seventeen of us rushed right to it. A completely new group came out; shiny faces, less smelly mouths and buoyant hair. 

We had a simple, yet heavy breakfast of dosa, idli, vada and upma nearby. Soon, they were up on their feet, ready for the trip.

'Okay people, first stop - Ikkeri. It's a quaint little temple in the middle of nowhere.'

'And how far is this nowhere?' Anjana jumped in, well aware of the ordeals our trips entailed.

'Let's just start walking instead of wasting time checking the distance,' I gulped nervously and walked off with Shankar.

We trudged on the main road for about 2 kms, and turned right into a small town. I noticed the typical South Indian house structures, built like a long path with room after room, like an elongated rectangle. There was a procession of school children, and we waved to all of them, fascinated by their various shades of mischief and excitement.

A huge forest cover appeared to our right. 'It looks like the edge of the Sharavati sanctuary,' I told Shankar. 'We might just spot the paradise flycatcher or the racket-tailed drongo.'

Another diversion to the right took us on a mud path, which was being cleaned and cleared; presumably to lay down a tar road. We saw the temple at the very end, nested away beside a swampy lake.

I gathered it was a Shiv temple, from the giant granite Nandi that greeted us as we entered. It was cool to the touch, and even the path inside had traces of water left from the morning's cleaning. We all dispersed, each finding our own corner to resonate our thoughts with.

I entered the sanctum sanctorum to find Rhythm humming 'Ekdantaya vakratundaya', her beautiful voice echoing off the roof. I joined her, and we harmonized on various songs - even Karuna Niketana, a song I'd recorded with Sai Keshav, one of my musician friends from Bangalore.

Shankar and Prashant told me about a two-metre long snake they'd spotted crawling along the temple steps. Luckily, they'd gotten a video.

I walked into the various surrounding gardens; there was a spooky well in the corner of one of them. I saw a pail attached to a rope, and even steps cut into the inner sides. I lowered the bucket, trying to estimate its depth. It went down forever, even though the rippling surface of the water seemed very close.

We realized how peaceful and empty the entire compound was; yet, we could hear the roaring of the trucks we'd passed, in the distance. I wondered what would happen once this temple became more accessible.

Shankar knelt by one of the pillars, taking a perspective photograph.

'Compensating for Vedant?' I asked, approaching him.

'Look, depth effect,' he beamed. '1+5. Amazing camera.'

The others had taken shelter under a low-hanging tree outside. I called out to everyone, and we left. I tied my shoes on the steps, and stared at the spire for a while. I stayed until there were no voices in the temple.

Chapter - 3 : The Lion Sleeps Tonight

As we returned, people started falling back; the exhaustion of the night's journey finally taking its toll. Soon, me, Shankar, Jaya and Chetanya went ahead to the diversion where the mud road ended, trying to look for a bus back.

'Oi!' Prashant called to us. We looked around in a daze until we saw the rest of our group perched atop a truck, speeding past us. Shankar yelped and chased it; we in his stead. The vehicle halted and they helped us up.

'Yay!' we all cheered like schoolchildren as the truck raced away, the wind rushing through our hair and ears, like we were trees in a storm. I remembered my hitchhiking days in Pilani, from Pahadi or NL Forman; these trucks were always more reliable than the actual public transport.

The driver dropped us off at a junction ahead of Sagara where we would get a bus to Shivamogga. We thanked him profusely and stood there. Me and Rhythm had just thought of getting sugarcane juice from across the road, when the bus arrived. Somehow, we adjusted ourselves and our luggage, and raced off. Me, Shankar and Rhythm sat in the front for the view.

Rhythm took out her ukulele and started strumming away. The strings sounded very soft, yet cut through the roar of the engine easily.

'Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast...' Rhythm started, and I joined her. We played around with the chords and harmonies until we came up with a decent cover.

'Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, la vie en rose...' we finished, smiling at each other. 'Nice, nice, we'll record this,' I said, for the tenth time.

Shankar drifted away slowly, and we sang 'Hey Soul Sister' by Train, a quintessential ukulele song. Before we knew it, we were dropped off outside the gates of the Tyavarekoppa Lion and Tiger Safari, about 20 kms from Shivamogga.

It was a frugal 100 Rs per person - 40 for the entry fee and 60 for the shared minibus. The guard also took Rs. 10 for every plastic item we were carrying, which he said would be refunded once we showed that item again while leaving. 'Brilliant rule,' Shankar smiled.

We entered a dry deciduous forest, with a small trail that led to a children's park (with more monkeys than kids) and further to the safari start point. The bus arrived, and our group filled it. There were grills on every side; like we were in a travelling cage. I wondered how close to the wildlife we were going to be.

As it turned out, we were the exhibits.

The animals were all free to roam in the sanctuary; we were first taken to a herd of sambar. The biggest male was sitting lazily in front of a tree, his antlers catching the light and shining like an inseparable crown.

The vehicle turned away, taking us to the tiger enclosure. He stuttered to a halt near a pond. Everyone looked around in a daze until they saw a tiger cooling off in the water. We all oohed and aahed and took photographs; if only Vedant and a zoom lens had been here.

'We feed them for six days - meat, lentils, gram and sometimes a little hay for roughage. Since they don't get any exercise, a day of starvation is necessary.' The driver told us.

I looked at the majestic animal, almost domesticated. Its hunting instincts had probably withered away owing to the constant food supply and constricted spaces. It made we wonder what was more important to us - animals' lives or our idea of them?

We went on to the lions and lionesses - three of them were inside their play areas, but the alpha male was out, doing his rounds. He circled our vehicle and grunted twice; constipatedly rather than ferociously. The driver's nonplussed face contrasted everyone else's - he'd seen them too many times to be impressed.

We went back to the Sanctuary's Cafeteria to fill our bottles and stomachs. Anjana kept jumping every time a monkey approached her veg pulao. 

'We saw tigers and lions from ten feet away,' Parag mused, to no one in general. 'And they didn't even care. The monkeys here are wilder than them.'

'Well, at least they're being fed properly, and have enough space to roam about. Once you have everything you need, why would you care about anything else?' Shankar replied.

'Metaphor for life,' Parag murmured, almost on automatic.

We went back outside, and collected our plastic collateral, showing our water bottles and candy wrappers. The bus came almost immediately, and we all found a seat.

'Aweem-aweh, aweem-aweh,' I hummed softly,

The heat and the heavy lunch was a powerful duo, and this time I drifted off too.

'In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight...'

Chapter - 4 : After The Sunset

I jerked back awake as the bus came to Sagara. We asked the driver about transport to Jog falls, who told us there was a bus in half an hour. We dismounted, coming face to face with an ice-cream shop. Everyone knew what to do.

As we slurped greedily on our choco-bars and cones, the bus for Jog falls arrived. We moved towards the coconut water stalls, and everyone had at least two - with the thick malai.

'Ice-cream and coconuts - best lunch ever,' Rhythm chuckled.

We ambled towards the bus stop, luckily finding seats for everyone. Me and Shankar sat in the front again, taking care of the mats and tents. Until the bus moved, we discussed the concepts of beauty and how it meant different things based on your demographic - sometimes even the opposite.

'You remember Bandaje Falls, right? Think of that local, that guide who bailed on us. If he came to Bangalore and saw the tech park you work at, he would be stunned. But spending a night under a starry sky on top of a waterfall is just "been there, done that" for him.'

'Yeah,' I replied. 'But there has to be a natural attraction for nature, doesn't it? The lifestyle and surroundings in green places are definitely healthier than those of a metro. So, the body would inherently be more at peace in the lap of nature.'

'But beauty is in the mind. And the mind stagnates, and always reacts or lights up in response to something unusual. What you're saying might be true for animals, but perhaps human minds have become so complicated that beauty and health have become separate concepts.'

'Then it becomes very subjective. All humans like just the right amount of change, but what the right amount is, and in what direction - that's the tough question.'

As if answering us, the bus took off, taking a right towards the ascent to the Jog Falls. 

The vegetation was getting greener, and the air, cooler. We were approaching the perennial Sharavati backwaters. I looked out the window and hummed Yatra; Rhythm had made me listen to it after reading one of my blog posts. She was right; it was a travel-inspiring song.

We dismounted the bus to welcome the panorama.

The Jog Falls area was an entire tourist ecosystem, with entrance gates and shops and carefully constructed view points. We walked around until we reached a beautiful cliff; although barricaded, we had a full view of all four parts of Jog Falls - Raja, Rani, Roarer, Rocket.

A sheer drop of a thousand feet ended in a huge lake, which was probably restricted, as I couldn't see any people down there. Instinctively, my mind started looking at ways to get there.

'Shankar,' I said, for I knew he was probably wondering the same, 'Look at the other side. No barricades, and a free view from the very top of the waterfall. There has to be a way there.'

'Yeah, I was wondering the same,' he grinned. 'Maps should help us. Do you want to go now?'

'We probably can,' I mused, looking around. 'Actually, it's very close to sunset, and I'm not sure we should make other people walk in the dark. When and where did Ramu say we have to meet him?'

'There's this school a little up ahead. The camping area is right next to it. We have to be there in an hour.'

Me and Shankar made some calculations and decided it was best kept for early morning the next day.

We walked on ahead towards the sunset, looking at the hills and water bodies dimming and lighting up depending on where they faced. The familiar orange glow was in the sky, and we needed to see the sun before it disappeared. A few of us scattered away, while some stayed at that view point, sitting on the nearby steps and resting their legs.

Some of us came upon a tear in the barricade, which led down to another one, facing a huge reservoir, flanked by two mountains. The sun was floating down between them, like a yellow dandelion seed. We all went down and watched in silence, until the sun had said goodbye. Its last ray blinked out of the mountain peak like a shooting star, and we followed it back to our group.

Daylight still remained, lingering a bluish-pink near the visible horizons, with the dark indigo of night creeping above us. Rhythm was sitting near the view point, playing her ukulele for the other group members, who watched in peaceful awe.

'Struggling artisht,' Rhythm said, looking at me and strumming sadly, pointing to a peepal leaf shaped like a cup. I cracked up.

'Come, let's sing La Vie En Rose.' We harmonized like we'd composed in the bus to Shimogga, and I felt my falsetto breaking. Fortunately, it came out well.

'Sing Shaam,' Shankar asked.

Rhythm handed me the ukulele. We discussed chords and some harmonies, and started off. 'Shaam bhi koi, jaise ho nadi...'

She played the chord with the komal dha, and we looked around to see the sky had disappeared. It was time to leave.

'Let's go. Finally we get to see who Ramu really is.' Shankar smiled nervously. We picked up our bags. I saw the last of the red leave my sight, and we left after the sunset.

Chapter - 5 : Meeting The Stars

'There is a yellow schoolbus, and a cow sitting near it. If you go a little ahead from there, you'll see an iron gate. Enter it, and I'll be there in fifteen minutes.'

We went ahead, still reeling from the surreal directions. Sure enough, we saw a yellow schoolbus and a gate a little ahead. No cow, though.

'Hey man I'm pretty sure there's another yellow school-bus with a cow near it. This is the decoy.' Parag said with mock suspicion.

'And ask Ramu the colour of the cow too. He didn't specify that.' I told Shankar.

We all laughed as we entered the gate, finding a small, concrete cottage of sorts, with a pretty spacious field in front of it. This was where we would set up our tents. Ramu stood there, beaming at us.

He started off with welcoming us, praising Sharavati and telling us all about the wildlife and floral diversity. He told us not to worry about food and accommodation, and that he would take care of everything. We were pleasantly surprised, as he'd seemed pretty aloof and strict on the phone. It reinstated my faith in meeting people to get to know them better. 

'Wow, he's being very nice.' Shankar observed.

'Yes. But he can turn into Mr. Hyde anytime,' I warned him. 'Let's remain careful.'

We'd gotten his contact from Manjunatha, a forest department official, who himself had sounded very dangerous. I'd nick-named him Dr. Frankenstein because of his Bela Lugosi-like voice.

'Oh, we should have a Mafia character dedicated to him,' Shankar suggested. 'Let's call it Igor, because Dr. Frankenstein's henchman.'

'Yes, yes, starts out as a villager, but can be woken up anytime by God and made a Mafia,' I laughed.

We kept our bags on the porch and started setting up our tents. Some watched in fascination; this was the first camping experience for them. Everyone was too excited to sleep, and we ended up laying all the mats outside, like in the Kumaraparvat trek, sprawling out on them like a badly assembled Jigsaw puzzle. We debated on what game to play - it wasn't much of a debate though.

'Mafia?'

'Mafia.'

Jayasimha and Rhythm hadn't played before, so they decided to wait it out. We introduced the new character 'Igor', and the game started off, with only the faint light of the cottage and the night sky; an ominous setting.

An hour later, Igor was a success, and we decided to leave for dinner. There was a place close by, where we would get rice, sambar and buttermilk. We ordered 17 plates and started playing Contact, laughing hysterically over hilarious clues and words. Everyone started with decent strategies like synonyms and adjectives and finally ended up with inside jokes and pop culture references. I played with a dog who had followed us from the base camp. He probably guarded that cottage.

Some had their dinner silently, while some kept jumping in to continue the game. Everyone left in small groups, and went back to the mats kept outside - this time under nothing but the starry sky.

Only a few went inside their tents - me, Shankar, Aparajita, Rhythm and Aishwarya just took our pillows and blankets and slept on the mats, out in the open, singing softly again. Anjana joined us after some time. The dog roamed about, driving away other animals and occasionally coming over to nuzzle us.

'Hey, those of you who want to go to the other side of Jog Falls tomorrow, please sleep now. I'll wake you up at 5 - we've to be back before breakfast if we want to make it to Dabbe Falls in time.'

People left for their tents, while me and Shankar stayed outside, slowly succumbing to sleep amid the howls of dogs and the twinkling of stars. The dog - now named Boris - came and settled next to me. I patted him for a while, until he left the cottage; probably to meet his other friends.

The night sky was resplendent with stars that blinked in a thousand false colours. I saw some of the familiar constellations as I'd seen in Kumaraparvat, in a different orientation. The feeling of being fleeting and inconsequential came back; but this time, there was no sadness. This time there was a sense of freedom, a sense of hope that the stars were watching, waiting for something that they could bestow their twinkling applause upon.

'All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players...'

Maybe tomorrow, the script would get better. Wasn't that everyone's hope, before closing the day? I drifted away to the belief that somewhere, my thoughts were meeting the stars.

Photos, courtesy of Prashant Shekhar Singh, Anjana Pillai, Parag Agrawal, Ravi Pranjal, Abhishek Shankar, Bhaven Parakh and Vishnu Raveendran.


Anjana's Blog : https://anjlifeexperiences.wordpress.com
Vedant's YouTube Channel : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_-wTP-OKAF6HskDOqSeREw
Vedant's Instagram Page : https://www.instagram.com/vedantsapra/