Hour has come for the divine appointment. A group of cousins goes to the local temple to usher in the oracle. Not very sure of the way and way of rural life, they follow Thejus, who is to join 4th class after the summer vacation. The local boy leads the party, arrived for the occasion, through areca plantations in Bavuparamba on the banks of the Valapattanam River. At the red temple looked after by the family of the priest, a group of men starts the ritual as we arrive. Two boys buck up their chendas (drums). A man is suddenly transformed [View Full Entry]

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After a four-hour journey from Mangalore, the bus entered Mookambika Wildlife Sanctuary. One of the most popular pilgrim centres in India is covered in thick forest. Mookambika temple in Kollur is equally inspiring for the religious and the atheist, laymen and artists. The temple and the surrounding green hills offer divinity and beauty. The temple owes its mythological origin to Shankaracharya, the ninth-century pioneer of Hindu revivalism. The scholar-sage prayed the goddess of Sringeri, where he had founded one of his four mutts in India, to come with him to his homeland in Kerala. The [View Full Entry]

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Two rows of drummers and three rows of pipers are building a tower of rhythm in front of the Bhagati temple in Nayarambalam. As the melam reaches a crescendo, men on top of the nine caparisoned elephants behind the pipers stand up, ritualistically fanning their alavattom and venchamaram. Pambadi Rajan, the King of Elephants that presides over the nine tuskers, stands majestically with four men and the deity on its top. Eight days and eight nights of festivities have left the elephants tired. Each of them has three men on top and two mahouts nearby. The animals stand motionless amid the [View Full Entry]

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The white bull waits impatiently before a closed gate. He has a red garland tied to his horns and vermillion on his forehead - applied by the priest at the Muniyandisami temple. Behind the privileged temple bull stands a winding line of edgy beasts, succumbing to its keepers, who fight their counterparts trying to jump the queue. Beyond the gate, young men in kabbadi jerseys wait for their hour of glory. Some of them will carry home their prize while some will be carried home dead or injured. The announcer says the sport would start sharp 10 am. The matadors are [View Full Entry]

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At first light, we looked for the beach. The bay has advanced, says a guard pointing to a boat anchored at the end of a white expanse in the shallow water. The occupation lasts for three months. The waves splashed on the long concrete platform lit by neon lamps. A group of pilgrims, who were our fellow-travellers from Rameswaram bus stand, joins a larger crowd bathing in the sea. As the sky and sea reddens, glitters on the horizon become returning fishing vessels. Old couples bow before an elusive sun. Men in black, austere pilgrims to Sabarimala, dip in the morning [View Full Entry]

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Nilgiri Mountain Railway is famed for its punctuality and pushcart pace. At 7.40 am, we were 10 minutes late for the train at Mettupalayam, still sleepy as the mist leaves for the surrounding blue mountains. We decided to give it a chase. Ten minutes later, on a noisy bus to Udhagamandalam or Ooty, we were sure to miss the train. As the old bus negotiated the hairpin bends we clung to our seats. We crossed the railway track and went past narrow bridges and waterfalls. Mountain ridges rose against the frightening depths. Monkeys rule the road. After forestland, tea estates and [View Full Entry]

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Hyderabad, the capital of Andhra Pradesh, once lay on the outskirts of power. The township was the legacy of the Qutub Shahis who watched over it from the Durbar Hall atop Golconda, the Shepherds' Hill. Equations have changed, but the ruins of a formidable fort refuse to forget the glory of Golconda. Narrow alleys lead to the granite walls guarding history. Former subjects have breached the fort walls and made houses wherever the army has not claimed for its barracks. They sell pearls and biryani to the visitors lured by medieval vaults. Guides begin with a free demo of the unique [View Full Entry]

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On a moonlit night in Hampi, rocks assume mysterious shapes. Like clouds in an azure sky they fly past the window as the bus winds out of the erstwhile Vijayanagara, the city of victory. An ancient sculptor might have wandered amid these gigantic shadows before Vijayanagara emperors raised their famed capital out of the limestone boulders. Hewn or not, these stones ignite imagination. A day is too short to explore the 26-square kilometre World Heritage Site. Earlier in the morning, I was besieged by guides with coloured maps as soon as the bus from Hospet stopped in the middle of the [View Full Entry]

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Mist veils the woods and the road. At Sakleshpur, we are suddenly jerked out of alcohol-induced slumber; the Ghats start here. Unable to resume the party, we gaze at the whiteness outside the van. After abrupt turns and altitude change, we are no longer sleepy, but sick. Slowly, a reassuring green emerges out of the waning white. People have already started their chores. Women and girls return home with pots of water. Men have taken place at roadside bunds and tea shops. Marketplaces are coming alive. I search for the river Harish has promised. Kashi, our driver, pulled over the van [View Full Entry]

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Red and yellow rule the temple courtyard. Red of the customary costumes and the yellow glitter of sabres and anklets, red of blood and yellow of turmeric powder clotting it. Pilgrims-revellers shroud themselves in dust and profanity, ritualistic and rhythmic. On the eve of Bharani, the culmination of the annual festival, Kodungallur temple complex is frenzied. The vault has been covered after the massacre of chicken. Men and women alike continue to assault themselves with their ornamental sabres. Anointed with blood, they dance in a trance. Pilgrims flood the courtyard in wave after wave. S [View Full Entry]

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