Malnad Trip

It is amazing how something as common as a cool breeze (refreshing, but common nevertheless) can take one on a nostalgic trip down memory lane. It happened to me when I was returning from work today evening. It was very cloudy, and considering the weather for the past few days, it was very cool. I was sitting in the car, looking at the trees passing us by on either side. And suddenly I realized how cool it was today, just like it was when I visited Malnad, a few years ago.

I have acknowledged elsewhere, I think, that I have this strange affinity towards malenaaDu. My trips were few and short, but when walking around there, I have felt at least as local as the locals themselves. I feel that every tree and every rock there speaks to me in a language that I understand. The rain (this trip, the one I enjoyed most, was in June and it was raining hard) could deter others from venturing out, but not me. A part of my mind has lived there, enjoying and worshipping the pristine beauty of the hills and the valleys of malenaaDu every day, before I even saw the place for the first time.

We went to Kukke Subramanya first and the same evening, we went to Dharmasthala. Thence we went to Beltangadi via the picturesque Charmudi ghats. We then went to Horanaadu and from there, to Sringeri. It was then back-to-Bangalore from there. The interesting thing about this trip was not so much about the deities and the temples in the places we visited. That was there, of course, but what is making me nostalgic is the route we took. We happened to take local buses everywhere. I did not want to hire a private vehicle, because then I would remain an outsider. This cost us some time, but it was worth it. A couple of the drivers of the buses stopped at some places, to let me take photographs.

The beautiful Malnad becomes greener and more beautiful during the rainy season. The already thick forests become thicker. The hills and the trees bathe, now in the pouring rain and then in the sunlight. When it rains, it is hard to even see one's hands. The roads are lined on either side with thick trees, a la wooden grills. Clouds rest languidly in the verdant valleys, unwilling to rise up. Here and there, one sees solitary houses. Every couple of kilometres, there is a small, often shy waterfall. Ah... if any place on Earth can be called Elysium, Malnad should be one of the contenders.

A couple of lines from a poem of Prof.Nissar Ahmed's, come to mind -
ಈ ಘಳಿಗೆಯೆ ಮೈ ತಾಳಿತು ಎನುವಂತಿದೆ ಲೋಕ
ಇಡಿ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯೆ ಸೊಗವಾಂತಿದೆ, ಸಮಯವೇ ನಸು ನಿಂತಂತಿದೆ
ಬಾ ಮಾಡಿಸು ಕಣ್ಮನಗಳಿಗಾನಂದದ ಅಭಿಷೇಕ
I do not know if I can make another trip like this ever again, in spite of my yearning. All I have now are the wonderful pictures, enshrined in my mind. I do not think that I can ever forget them.

Public Transport

I love taking public transport. Even in the US, though it was extremely time-consuming, I used to love taking the local bus to school. To get to know a place, one has to take the public transport and walk in busy roads. One gets to see a lot of different kinds of people, and the experience is just great (of course, when you have the time).

I had made friends with a jazz musician and a bus driver, of name Ron ___. He was a Christian American, but of middle-eastern descent. And the point was that he had visited India and Bangalore. I still cherish my long talks with him. We used to discuss Politics, Religion, culture and what not. The local transit in the Bay Area has a service for senior citizens, called VTA Paratransit or something. One day, I asked Ron what that was. He could not hear me properly in the din, and asked me excitedly - "Are you asking me about Paramahamsa Yogananda?". He had actually read 'Autobiography of a Yogi' and said he would lend it to me. Now I was flat. It was really amazing. When we left the US for good, he gave me a CD of 'Yonder Tree' by Gino Vanelli.

I remember the time when I explained the meaning of the red dot on my forehead to an American. Another time, early in the morning, a drunk lady took my book (Oppenheim and Schafer) from me, turned the pages, and remarked - "Do you really understand all this? You must be very smart", and then pointing to her husband/boyfriend, also drunk, said "He has been to college... he might understand this", and then turning to him, said "Don't you, ____?". I was scared! I have not seen many drunk people, and this was like, totally unexpected! I mean, it was early in the morning, and these people were fully drunk! It was nice when they returned my book and said "Good luck", though.

Public transport is not always pleasurable. I have had my share of bad experiences. But sometimes, one can think about the bad experiences later and laugh at them.

One day I was taking 32 to school. Most of us in the bus were foreigners - South Asians and Chinese and Vietnamese. The driver was black. Now a blonde lady got in. Once she settled in her seat, she started mouthing expletives towards people of other races. It was *bad*. The driver got very irritated and told her that if she did not stop, she'd have to get off the bus. Well, she did not, and was made to get off the bus.

Public transport in Bangalore is a wholly different sort of experience. A few days ago I took a BMTC bus to my place of work. A couple of women with a framed photograph of the Mother Goddess, were in the bus. These women are, for all practical purposes, beggars. They show the Goddess's photograph to people and say "give something to please Her". The women did not have money to buy the tickets. The poor conductor was demanding ticket-money from them, and a young girl shouted at him "ರೊಕ್ಕ ಇಲ್ಲ ಅಂದರೆ ಏನ್ ಮಾಡಕ್ಕಾಗತ್ತೆ? ಗೊತ್ತಾಗಾಕಿಲ್ವ ನಿಂಗೆ?"I had half a mind to pay for their ticket, but the other half prevented me from doing so. Finally the conductor exempted them from buying tickets. Or, rather, he was forced to.

It takes all sorts to make a world!