ADHVAGATI

Reading newspaper reports of the mastakabhisheka performed in Gomatagiri last week, i couldn't help reminiscing about my many trips to the place. Standing in the middle of almost nowhere on the Mysore- Hunsur road near the hamlet of Bilikere, this smaller version of Bahubali closely resembles the famous granite colossus at Shravanabelagola, but vastly neglected . We have always had a soft corner for this 'poor cousin' and have dragged many a visiting guest to view it , as it gave us a measure of pleasure to share our little, unsung curio with people who had never heard of it. It used to be like a little secret treasure. The setting itself could not be more forlorn. Acres of semi arid land open to the assault of elements. An outcrop of sturdy yellowish granite , bald and rugged. On the crest of this little hillock, which may be about a 100 ft. high, an old crumbly shrine with no roof. Approximately 80 rough steps ,gouged out in a careless fashion , lead to the ...

God's own retreat in God's own country. Prime Ministers, sports stars , la-di-dah socialites all squeeze in a kumarakom- holiday , like ,the little black book is not really dishy enough without this entry in it. The name is all over the place so much so that we were almost driven to put in a three day retreat there. If only to find out what all the noise is all about. Ah ! believe me, all that noise is fully justified. Kumarakom is verily God's own de-stressing resort ! Multi starred fancy spas jostle with faux-rural ( reverse snobbish) hutments. Plenty of lodgings to choose from. We settled for the middlepath . A nice colony of wooden houses on stilts sprouting amidst a maze of artificial canals meandering through thick copses of aged trees. Set far away from the highways. Run by the Tourism Department of Kerala. On the bank of the Vembanaad. Silent. Cool. Cut off from the world. Perfect. The Vembanaad Lake is a wonder. Almost like a sea. Did nothi...

Common name - Thiruvidaimaruthur. Four Kilometers from Kumbhakonam city. Sanctified as a " Paadal Petra Sthalam" , located on South side of River Kaveri. Associated with Kulotthunga Chozhan and Varaguna Pandyan. Small town with the sprawling temple complex as its focal point. The broad, straight avenue leading from temple to the Theradi ( the chariot shed) is immortalised in a proverb as the epitome of excellence ( though now, its just another road): " Thiruvaroor ther azhagu, thiruvidaimaruthur veethi azhagu ". The huge temple complex forms the heart or garbhagriha of a "punya desa" covering nine towns each enshrining one parivaara devata ( attendent deities) usually seen in Shiva Temples. Consequently, the deity here is revered as the " Maha "-lingam. The size of the lingam is also quite "Maha". A bronze figure of the Lamp-Lady ( Vilakku Paavai ) serving the deity is a stunning creation and virtually a guide to the ...

In 79 AD, an angry Mt. Vesuvius barbecued the city for breakfast, leaving behind a deathly silence that lasted nearly a millenium . Today, thousands swarm its lanes and city squares trying to connect with the vanished people. Its not difficult , for they left behind imprints of themselves that neither the volcanic wrath of a forgotten god nor almighty Time could erase completely. The hot volcanic ash proved to be a superlative preservative that has frozen forever that last day in the life of a thriving, rocking city. What a feisty lot those old pompeians were ! First lessons first. There's a Pompei and a Pompeii. The single i -d name denotes an ancient commune consisting of many cities and towns, among them this Pompeii and Herculaneum, both of which were destroyed in that volcanic eruption. There's modern day suburb named Pompei , functioning like any small town in the Naples- Compania Region, but "Pompeii" , the tourist at...

We over estimated our trekking stamina . And misjudged the image attributed to Ahobilam. Of course we knew the basic facts about it before we set out. That there are these nine temples strewn around a hillside where Narasimha, the ManLion god mauled and disembowelled the demon Hiranyakasipu and revealed The Truth to Prince Prahlada . That there are no serviceable roads after a point and we'd have to walk up the hill. Ok, that was no big deal. 'Havn't we seen enough hill temples before!' We took our sweet time arriving there, expecting to find a holy hillock we could finish with in a couple of hours. We ended up spending the whole day there, returning to the vehicle, reluctantly, only when light had faded almost completely. Though the calf muscles were a bit wobbly and complaining, we were too satiated and thrilled to notice fatigue. We returned to the resting place at an ungodly hour besides not having found anything more than biscuits and tetrapacked ...

At the London bus station, after we'd bought tickets on a Greenline bus to Windsor, the warden gave us a virtual coaching class on where to stand ( " on the other side " emphasised with hand gesture) )to catch our bus back to London. Miss the last bus and we'd be stranded ,we were led to believe. Nodded. And made ourselves look like we were suitably spooked. After we'd occupied our bus seats, the beefy driver made a general announcement, but looking directly and pointedly at us, that Windsor visitors have to stand on the other side of point X to catch the return bus. Nod. Nod ; dutifully. As we slid out of London, it started drizzling. If its London, it has to drizzle, I guess. But it was not a gloomy weather. Pleasantly bright, comfortably cool. Non-intrusive drizzle that soon cleared off once we entered the countryside outside London. The high windows of the Greenline bus afforded splendid snapshots of green scenery dotted with elegant cottages and f...

Not in my looniest dreams had i imagined that i would some day walk into a live volcano. But i did........I know that sounds like a stretched fantasy yarn. But if revise our perceptions about volcanoes and re-educate ourselves in descriptions, such a claim will not sound so daft after all. In our country volcanoes never figure in normal, perceived geography. They are in text books, fairy tales, sometimes in newspapers, and always evoke the mental association with the image of a perfectly conical mountain,furiously blowing its top in a blaze of red, orange and yellow illumination. Thats the standard "live" volcano ; and it was just such an image that popped in mind's eye when we heard that there was a friendly, neighbourhood "live volcano" about two hours away from where we lived in Sumedang-Bandung, Indonesia. And it being the biggest tourist attraction of the region, we just couldn't give it a miss. It last erupted in 1983 and exhibited some half-he...