The Hours - My Memoir

Life & Thoughts!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 07:52:00 +0000

For a while I wondered what I should be writing this time. May be about another travel that I have recently been on? Or should I wait till I complete another next week? Should I review a movie or a book I just finished watching or reading? Or should I write another article about life or a general topic? But then I realized that beyond the travels, beyond my gardens and paintings and general topics there hides a life; that of mine, which hides between words like a crossword puzzle. “So why not write about myself this time.” I thought.

Lots of work kept me busy for the last three months. Every day there were new challenges or a milestone to be achieved and to work with your friends in the US it requires several late night calls almost every day. During weekends, my French class kept me glued to the curriculum, preparing for test after tests to clear my first level. But in between them, there I was trying to find time for myself by continuing to write restaurant reviews for my office monthly magazine; preparing for the first sports magazine edition for the year 2011. I watched some good movies, some BBC human planet series that bring to light the adaptability of humans in extreme conditions.

We had a nice felicitation on the last day of my French class and our teacher treated us at a good French restaurant in UB city – Café Noir. Owner of the restaurant, a nice middle aged French gentleman greeted us pleasantly; introduced us to his master chef, who apparently started his career at the age of 15, traveled across France and studied under 7 different master chefs who handed over their legacy to him and after all seven of them approved, he received the title of Master chef. This is also a way to keep alive their cuisine for generations to come. Unfortunately so many Mangalore dishes that our grandmothers and mothers are making may slowly disappear without such structured approach to transfer legacy.

He also talked about foreigners who come here and find it difficult to cope with busy traffic, noise and chaos. They, he says travel back to their countries every two months to release that stress themselves and return back. But he has found a place here and believes that the best way to know a country and its culture is by living there for a longer duration.

The food was good; I tried quiche, Louvre sandwich and Creme Brulee for dessert. During lunch we spoke a lot about class and ourselves. After a break for 3 weeks, I join the next level. I have chosen a new timing this time to suit me better. That means I will not have the same classmates for sure but that’s fine, more new faces. :-)

Thoughts never leave me, several thoughts kept appearing like waves in an ocean bed; not all seemed peaceful in this beach and there are varying tides until one finds a balance. After a long time, during my break I was able to attend to my garden to de-weed the pots and refill them with some good manure and now I see a Mangalore jasmine bud ready to blossom at an odd time of the year.

Having written so much about myself, I realize that my hobbies and I are integral part and one cannot differentiate between the two and we actually become what we do.

There is a poor man who comes to the street next to my house and chalks a beautiful picture of lord Ganesh or Hanuman on the paved road. He would pick a new street every day. In the evenings, while I return from office, I spend some time appreciating his art, ask him a few questions and make a very very minor contribution towards his fight to sustain the life of him and his family. Sometimes I would think of buying him a box of chalks; may be some colored ones too. Several months passed and one day I noticed that I have begun to ignore his existence. Was it because of my hectic schedule? Mind with preoccupied thoughts that bother me daily? Is this due to my selfish needs or people related to me have taken priority? Is this because of a restless, peace less mind? I then noticed how much I have changed over the last few years. Often such events take us away from being human… This is one of the many examples that are driving me away from what I once wanted to be; away from what i envisioned myself to be. Every such change that takes me away from being human should be curbed and rejected.

The waves from a high tide hit the sand hard; water gushed as far as possible to cover the maximum amount of sand. It wet them and infected them with an illusion of dampness; but little did it know that in the process the sand had soaked it and as the sun rose next morning the water had evaporated into nothingness. Thus, one of the waves from the ocean bed was silenced.

It’s been almost more than a year since I stopped writing my diary that I maintained since 1997. On the day my painting teacher passed away, I was lost in thoughts and I remembered all the good things about him. It also brought back memories of my grandmother, another dear one I have lost. And I realized that they live in my diaries too, in those words of mine that I felt for them then. I immediately picked a pen and started writing my diary so this thought would not get lost in the maze of thoughts to follow.

But having written poems, stories, diaries or blogs; having painted the reflections of my mind; having traveled away from few thoughts and bonds, it is interesting to notice that there are still some thoughts that can never be expressed and shall remain in the mind locked forever, lost in time, lost in an illusion.

The Ambassador of simplicity!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 03:03:00 +0000

“He inspired me to notice the shades and patterns in a leaf or flower, He brought in me the habit to observe the details of a situation and he made me realize the fun in playing with colors. I would like to believe that two days back (31-Aug), when he passed away, his soul; like fresh wet paint from a brush, merged into everything that is colorful in this world. My dear Painting teacher (P P Karanth) I will find you in everything that is colorful!!!”

During our 10^thgrade holidays my friend Vasu and I joined an art school in Mangalore. I thought it was cool...It was fun and we were asked to do a lot of pencil sketching. But when my mother noticed my interest and improvements in art, she suggested I learn from my uncle (Father’s cousin). Surprisingly I had no recollections of having even met him before that day. Whenever my mother met him and told him about my interest in painting, he would say – “No, I don’t really teach many students these days.” But my mother would never give up. She would remind him of me every time she met him. So then finally he agreed to have me as his student.

There, I walked in for the first time, to his abode that looked so peaceful from the very first look. A small gate opened its way towards a small but pretty house with Mangalore tile roof and surrounded by trees and flowering plants. The doors and windows were wide open as though there was constant exchange of creativity; between man and nature. There he was in white shirt and doti looking as tranquil as ever.

The first thing I noticed inside the house was a wooden separator between the main hall and the bedroom. It was painted; a tall figure in agony, turning the face away from a horrible sight in the sky. Two kids; a girl and boy pointing to the sky as they follow the tall figure…they pointed towards the sky; where few birds; perhaps cranes, with their beak, broke painting brushes. Every time I sat in front of that painting and created my own, I derived new meanings from it but I never asked him what it meant. No one should I believe, must ask an artist what his work means. Not only is it an insult but also a loss of primary intent of allowing the transfer of thoughts through an old age wireless technology. One relates to a piece of art as one sees in them, their experiences and not by the curiosity of knowing the intent of the artist while drawing or writing that; this unfortunately many audience do not realize.

I had few co-students who were younger to me by age but far superior in the subject. But sir gave me my time to learn. In the art school where I studied first, there was a structured approach but here there was none. He asked me what I wanted to start with. I had no clue, so he suggested miniature painting. He just asked me to pick one painting from a book and asked me to draw and paint. Even though I struggled to understand his teaching methods in the beginning, everything fell in place as we proceeded. I learnt that day that teaching had no rules, it had no structure, it was just a sharing of experiences and one learns from their own experiences. He would suggest I go look at leaves before I drew them. He would pull out some books and simply talk about any painting and the qualities of them and so began a great friendship between us to discuss and learn not just art but, philosophy, mythology and many stories. If he was reading some book, he would discuss it with me, tell stories from it.

He was very witty and would involve every student in a good joke and we all lived there a few hours to share his life and learn from him the joy of living. His students were kids of age 10 to old men of age 65. Shenoy mama as he was called was the oldest who would travel from udupi to study from him. Several other art teachers would come here to learn from him and enhance their skills from the great artist.

I would leave college at around 4 PM, reach there by 4:30PM and then paint till 6:30 or 7:00 PM. In those few hours I found a lot of peace. He would offer us some raagi malt and biscuits or rusks. And remember he never took a fee from his students. Everything was for free. His art was not for sale, nor was his knowledge that many would otherwise have cashed on. He painted the interiors of Ramakrishna ashram in Hyderabad and Chennai with mythological stories.

Sir was always very frank in his opinion, he would never have sugar coated words to admire someone falsely and most of the time it was great fun to hear his comments on any subject.

When I joined engineering, I could not continue my classes daily so I started visiting him during my semester holidays. This time was very enjoyable with paintings and talks. I would spend all morning there or all evenings there painting. After all these years if I look back, I never recollect him teaching me how to paint; it feels as though I learnt it myself …just like that; that was how great a teacher he was. He never restricted my creativity by saying – Do it this way but he would just allow me to do what I wanted. One thing he mentioned very clearly is when you recreate a painting of someone, don’t just copy it, use a color scheme of yourself or just change it in some way to bring your creativity into it. And then I would pick my color scheme or add some images of my own.

When I moved to Bangalore, I lost touch but during visits to Mangalore I would go to him and show him my paintings. He would scold me for doing only few paintings and would urge me to fill the book. He would say stories from the book he recently read. The last time I met him was at one of the functions at a relative’s place last year. I tried visiting him during his illness but due to some emergency could not make it and only after I left did I realize that he was just there in the neighboring house, at his sister’s place.

When I heard of him being in the ICU, I immediately booked the tickets to travel to my hometown to visit him, but unfortunately even before I could board my bus here, he passed away.

For a man who had sacrificed his life for art, his family involved few relatives and several students in whom he has planted his skills, his creativity and his thoughts. And as I wrote earlier, he lives on, in his paintings, in every painting of his student and then their students and so on and on….forever.

Sakleshpura & Chikkamgalur

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 09:02:00 +0000

It is interesting to notice that how friendship of over sixteen years makes us so comfortable with one another and requires so less explanation. And for such friendships, a trip like this is an opportunity to recollect the best old days and fun filled memories. It all began when Gurudeep suggested we go on a trip to historical places and when we met at Kishan’s house sometime in June we confirmed the plan.

Guru, Bharath, Kishan, Vathsala, Shiva, Preethi and me, seven of us left Bangalore at around 4:30 AM and in two cars we drove towards our weekend destination – Sakleshpur. Kishan was insistent on visiting the Rosary church that he had read about in my blog. So at 7:20 AM we made our first stop at Shettihalli and what a surprise it was to see the church all submerged in back waters of Hemavathi dam. A complete different appearance from what it looked like when I visited in March. After a short walk till the bank, we returned and continued with our journey to Sakleshpura.

Two kilometers after Sakleshpura town, is a right (Y Sahped deviation) to Mudigere. 14 kilometers after that is Hanbal, where we were supposed to take a right at the circle but instead in a hurry we took right as soon as we saw the “Hanbal” board. After a few kilometers gone we realized our mistake and returned back on track with the help of a kind omni driver.

At circle we take right again and half a kilometer gone we see sign boards leading to our homestay – Makki thitta. A bumpy drive of four kilometers, with underside of the chassis hitting the ground a few times and sludge skidding the tires took us to the homestay.

Tejpal, a light hearted, jovial and extremely talkative man runs this home stay which underwent a good renovation recently supported by his son who works in Bangalore. With happy greetings he showed us our rooms and invited us to have breakfast. We were offered two rooms and a glass house. The glass house was however the best spot with a panoramic view of paddy fields and hills.

For breakfast we had hot but thick neeru dosa (supposed to be very thin), rice bath, thate idli and delicious Badusha sweet. Initially we had planned to trek the Jenkal gudda but Tejpal would not let us do that trek in the rain. He said it would be slippery. But noticing the delay already we decided to hire a jeep and drive to a few attractions around the place which luckily did involve a trek too.

The jeep took an even worse road with more sludge. Our first stop was at Bettada Byreshwara temple, a beautiful temple built with stone. We began our trek up the small hill by the temple. We climbed one and then saw the next and then another and another followed by more. It was beautiful; I think we almost climbed 5 small peaks that were connected to one another. With mist masking and clearing the gorgeous view and with our fun filled speech the whole experience was fabulous.

Our driver led us to the Magajari falls next which is a great place. The falls has to be reached by a difficult route, trekking down into a slippery path and you reach a rock right in front of the lush fully falling water.

On our way back the jeep got stuck in sludge and we had to push the vehicle. In the process the wet mud splattered over our cloth. Deepu had placed himself at the worst location, behind the back wheels and the mud nicely splattered on him. After that adventure we returned back to home stay, had a shower and quick lunch at around 3:30 PM.

After lunch we all gathered at glass house and played cards. It was great fun. Unknowingly time passed so quickly with so much of laughter and fun. Tejpal also arranged a small game in the dining area for all the inmates of the home stay in which Kishan and I won prizes (Some cardamom and black pepper).

We took a walk to a stream nearby and chatted for a while in the moonlit night. Shiva showed us a demo on how fishes attracted to the torch light come to surface and are caught by fishermen.

For next one hour or so we recollected fun stories from our college days. All those nicknames re-surfaced, all those events of chits and papers re appeared, all those stories of teachers and friends were recollected. In short, those best days of our life was revisited and for a moment it was just us and the memories. Nothing else mattered; no one else seemed to exist.

And slowly as the discussion shifted towards current affairs and aliens, we knew it was time for some dinner and sleep. :-)

Next day, we were ready by 8:00 AM. After breakfast and thanking Tejpal and his wife for wonderful hosting we left Makkithittu home stay at Donnihali. Our first stop for the day was Angadi. Angadi which means a market place or shop is 18 km south of Mudigere Town.

This place has been identified as Sasakapura or Sosevur which was the original home of Hoyasalas who rose to great power in South India. Three ruined temples were dedicated to Keshava, Veerabhadra, and Mallikarjuna. We visited the vasantha parameshwari temple where the priest gave us some background on how the first king of Hoysala rose to power after killing a tiger. The other three temples are being renovated; however the new additions do not reflect either the charm or the quality involved in Hoysala architecture. The Jain basadi has been renovated.

We stopped at an Adi subramanya temple on the way at agrahara, which Tejpal thought we should not miss.

Next stop – Chikkamagalur; had some light snacks before we started driving up the Mullayanagiri. The drive was excellent. The sunny Chikkamagalur town disappeared with height and mist at Mullayanagiri. The cliff edge drive is very challenging. The summit was covered with mist even at 1:00 PM in the afternoon.

After a quick lunch we drove to Belavadi, another Hoysala master piece. The Priest here explained the beauty of the idols just like he did the last time I visited. Again a great place to appreciate the ancient south Indian architecture. After Belavadi we drove back to Bangalore via Hassan.

The trip was filled with lot of fun and laughter and remembrance of the good old college days that shall recreate and reform itself in such gatherings and so shall the friendship we all share.

La Belle!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 11:34:00 +0000

When morning glories along with many other bright flowers have blossomed in your garden, one knows that it’s a beautiful day; a joyful time. When one looks at an attractive flower, one is drawn within, towards the minute details of life, of joy; such as the moist mud, a ride during drizzle, warmth of a touch or simply a company midst cool and calm surroundings between the trees that has just had a good shower from the skies. And the joy is always a result of a peaceful mind that so many happenings collectively bring to you and it also is the harmony of thoughts with mutual admiration and acknowledgment of expressions and emotions that is so very complicated to tune. And this morning, its seems like all those beautiful feelings have settled on to the beautiful flower; in its pigments, maturing itself with the warmth of the sun. I have several additions to my garden now and will introduce them soon but here is a preview.

One of these days, I made this painting for a friend whose wedding i failed to attend. I think I have finally found my style of painting – A blend of spray paint and acrylic/poster color.

To make my already busy schedule even busier, I have joined weekend classes to learn French at Alliance Française de Bangalore. When I go to my French classes, I go to a place new to me, I learn a language that I have never spoken before; I meet people who have never known me before and hence it gives me an opportunity to re-explore or re-create myself. The class is very interesting and a lot of fun as everybody is equally new to the language and we learn through similar mistakes. The class is very diversified from a mother who wants to know if her kid is pronouncing the language properly to employees of a firm with French clients to those who want to migrate to Canada or France for job or higher studies or simply people like me who want to learn French to communicate during their travels or want to watch a French movie without subtitles. :-)

Here is a short French intro from me to you :-) –

Bonjour. Je m’appelle Ajeya, Je suis indien. Je parle bien Kannada, Anglais, Tulu, Hindi et un peu francias. J’aime le cinéma, la peinture, l'Écriture et les voyages.

So until next time à bientôt.

Bijapur in a Day!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 13:28:00 +0000

One who enjoys traveling may know that sometimes a good travel experience may not even involve a place or a location at all but simply involves a journey; from one place to another or merely a journey of words through the interactions we have with localities or with the co-travelers.

A long but exciting journey of 12 hours took six of us from office to Bijapur for a friend’s wedding. We reached the city by 9:00 AM, checked in to the hotel and freshened up. After a good breakfast, two other friends joined us and we drove in an auto to the marriage hall.

Men and women traditionally dressed, gathered on this happy occasion and filled the hall with friendly gestures and greetings. Old men with traditional kurta, kache and turbans, women in an ilkal sari walked around the hall welcoming one another. After we wished the couple and with already un-digested breakfast struggled to relish the feast for lunch we hired an auto for Rs10 per head and drove to the Gol-Gumbaz. The entrée fee at this magnificent architecture is Rs5 per person and the guide (an Old man) we booked charged us Rs100 (but we ended up paying him Rs150 for his sincerity). With an old man with a walk stick as our guide the whole walk around the Gumbaz was a little slower than usual but he tried to make the demonstration interesting with his narration, examples and exercises.

Built in 1659, is the mausoleum of Mohammed Adil Shah and some members of his family. Its vast dome is said to be the Second Largest Dome, unsupported by pillars, in the world, after St. Peter's in the Vatican City of Rome. It is constructed in such a way that even a pin drop can be heard distinctly from across a space of 38 m, in the Whispering Gallery. The acoustics here are such that any sound made is said to be repeated 10 times over. In the surrounding ornamental gardens is an archeological museum.

We next drove to the Ibrahim-Rauza, built by Ibrahim 'Adil Shah II (1580-1627), consists of his tomb and mosque within a square compound, both rising face to face from a common raised terrace, with a tank and fountain between them.

A walk down the lane brought us to Malik- E-Maidan. The largest medieval cannon in the world placed here is 4 m long, 1.5 m in diameter and weighs 55 tons, this gun was brought back from Ahmadnagar in the 17th century as a trophy of war by 400 oxen, 10 elephants and tens of men.

And a few furlongs gone is Uppali burj; built around 1584 by Hyder Khan, is an 80 ft (25 m) high tower standing to the north of Dakhani Idgah in Bijapur. This is a spherical structure with stone steps winding round the outside.

While some of them left back to hotel, the rest of us walked to the Eidgah Maidaan where we requested the gardner to open the gates and relaxed for a while. Next we took a “Tanga” (Horse cart) to Barah Kaman – Bara Kaman is an unfinished mausoleum of Ali Adil Shah II. Ali Adil Shah of the Adil Shahi dynasty wanted to build a mausoleum of unmatched quality of architecture. As per the plan twelve arches was to be placed vertically as well as horizontally surrounding the tomb. However due to unknown reasons the work on the structure was left incomplete and only two arches were raised vertically. However still, the remains of the twelve arches placed horizontally can be seen.

All the places except Gagan mahal close after 6 PM.

Once back to hotel, we got ready to leave on another journey back to Bangalore. Every journey opens you to something unknown or unfamiliar. It brings to you the possibility of expressing yourself and exploring the unknowns. This journey was indeed very special for all the said and unsaid.

Illusion!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 11:14:00 +0000

Sanity or insanity, maturity or immaturity is always separated by a thin line. And more often the ability to evaluate an act before being performed separates the one from the other. Almost every day, one has to confront a situation that necessitates an action or a reaction and in whatever magnitude it appears, the sanity is put to test. However today, in this article, these are not the petty issues I am talking about; not a quarrel between a husband and a wife over some disagreement, not a fight between two friends over a difference in opinion. These are the actions and behaviors that result out of pain, out of deep sorrow as one is forced to break out of a long lasted illusion more in an emotional level than any other. One, in such given circumstance may choose to react immediately with an outburst of emotion – normally anger or sorrow or one may choose to brood over it alone in the deep corners of the mind. While outburst of feelings through anger are sometimes good as it releases a flow of suppressed thoughts; sometimes can be devastating as is mostly than rarely, is a one sided opinion or perception. A situation like this puts sanity into test.

Often as a child, the thin line is always ignored and frequently, the line is crossed and they are controlled by the elders or suppressed by the child himself and these acts eventually shape their personality. Hence what I feel that childhood never really puts your sanity into a real test due to a protected atmosphere. And most often the term used for misbehavior at this age is immaturity, the lack of ability to differentiate the right from wrong. And an act of immaturity is always ignored or excused.

But as one grows, one breaks loose from the bonding that attaches him through birth and creates new relationships of his own– friends, lovers, attractions and desires. And as an individual is put to severe emotional turmoil the sanity of an individual is under a real test. When the desired is not achieved, the normal act would be to defend oneself and blame the rest. One cannot help behaving per the personality developed over the years, but one can always think before reacting to a situation and the saner chooses to do thus. He understands the situation and if impossible to solve, adapts to it and moves on. In the process there are several tears, several cries but never an end of tunnel, never a dark room without any hope. And as one grows from one situation to another, the adaptability become quicker and easier. Happiness is not dependent on one person or one moment and self pity is the worst possible way to disrespect one self.

In the novel “In Cold Blood” Truman Capote masterfully captures the life and mind of two criminals and the after effects of their act of insanity. Murdering a family of four for no real reason but probably, as analyzed by a psychiatrist; an act of cruelty against all those people who have hurt the criminals; an outburst of those suppressed anger over four innocent people who had to pay for the mistakes of someone else.

So always much is talked about the "reaction" side of sanity, what about the "action" side of the same coin?

Murders, as defined are often related to taking a life but is it not an equivalent offense to kill an image of a personality? An influenced emotion? or......A collaborative illusion!

Talk Show's

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 09:33:00 +0000

I have always liked talk shows since they open up a window into someone’s life, it always need not be a celebrity but any person for that matter who definitely has an interesting story to tell. It takes a good host to ask the right questions and explore a human being not in a way to interfere in their life but to understand them, as a fellow being. And according to me no one does that as gracefully as Simi Garewal. I had been a big fan of “Rendezvous with Simi Garewal” and admired the way in which she empathetically explored a character. Talk shows can be interesting irrespective of the individual being interviewed but in the interest of many it has always been a celebrity who is widely known and is extremely successful in his field. Simi began her second similar show now, “Simi selects India’s most desirable.”

The moment I watched the first episode I realized that I should not expect a Rendezvous in this show. Rendezvous dealt more with an understanding of the individual and experiences that contributed in their larger than life image. On the contrary this show is more for youngsters and is of a different format that deals with fame and predominately relationships. The episodes, though not the one I may prefer (Rendezvous types) are very interesting and Simi as usual tries to explore the personality beyond coated words. When questions are probed about a relationship several learning’s come out of them. I liked what one of the celebrity’s spoke – “Do not depend on one person to control your happiness.”

Several are very sugar coated lines but to pick the right words in between the lines requires art. :-)

Southwest Monsoon!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 09:08:00 +0000

The sky tirelessly showers all day, with intensity varying from swift to slow and fast again, but never stops. The leaves cleanse themselves with the eternal shower, the stems and roots end their thirst with abundance of water resulted by an all day rain; pouring water mask the visibility beyond a few trees and fields. Collected water finds a slope to slip into, making its way between trees and bushes, like several lost rivers finding their way to the sea and people; hurriedly running towards their work or home with an umbrella held close to their head preventing the wind from flexing the links of the umbrella to invert the canvas. Toad’s speech, tapping of the drops on leaves, trees swaying with the wind, all blend into a melodious music. This is somewhere close to what Monsoon looks like in Mangalore.

Lying down on your bed, all by yourself with no personal commitments that needs immediate attention; no weddings to attend, no functions to witness, no shopping; no professional hassles; no assignments or deliverables; no pre-occupied thoughts, no words from past or present, no person in mind; all day to yourself, watching the rain, from the bedroom window, munching hot snacks, with some coffee or tea and a book of your choice or a task of your interest that is not forced but a willing execution of a mind’s desire; that of your mind. This would be an ideal way to enjoy Monsoon in Mangalore.

I was in Mangalore last weekend for my cousins wedding and I enjoyed every shower, every un-timely rain, including the one when the bridegroom’s relatives (us) arrive at the marriage hall and wait for the royal welcome. Being by the Arabian Sea, Mangalore receives heavy rainfall from the Southwest monsoon and for me has been the most enjoyable time there when, everything slows down and surrenders to the rain. So I am glad I was there this time to welcome the south west monsoon to my home town!

Movies On Writers!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 22 May 2011 13:26:00 +0000

An author writing about any subject requires his share of research, however small the topic may be. He has to understand his subject, live with it and merge himself with it to form what he wants to create. A journey of a writer has always fascinated me and why not? I think to certain extent I understand it, the feeling involved in that journey. Hence movies made on writers always attract me.

Recently, I have come across three such good movies about writers, some who lived, some fictitious but their passion for writing is undying.

Capote (2005) –

Truman Capote read a news paper article about a family of four brutally murdered in a small village of Holcomb, Kansas and immediately he knew what would be his next writing. Capote is the movie about the author and his extensive research and interactions with the killers of clutter family that resulted in the writing of his most famous work – In cold blood. I loved the dedication of the author in bringing to light the minds of the two criminals and devastating after affects of such horrifying incidents. I own a copy of this book and have read half way through it and can say that it is one of the best writings I have ever read. The movie won Philip Seymour Hoffman an Oscar for masterfully playing the role of the brilliant author.

Almost Famous (2000) -

Would it not be a dream to write for a publication during your teenage? And that to the one based on your favorite theme? Almost famous is about a teenage journalist writing for the rolling stone magazine about a rock band. The movie takes us through the journey of a fifteen year old William traveling with a rock band around the US to write an article about them. The film is semi-autobiographical, as director Cameron Crowe himself was a teenage journalist for Rolling Stone. The screenplay is brilliant and no doubt it won the Oscars for best original script. The movie talks about friendship, fame, betrayal and jealousy within the band as looked upon by an outsider so closely influenced by an over conservative but caring mother.

Adaptation (2002) –

This is one of the brilliant scripts ever because it blends together a story being adapted into ta movie and the process of adaptation. A very unique screenplay, I must say. It is based on true incidents but with some fictitious intruding. When Charlie is asked to write a screenplay based on the book called “the orchid thief” by Susan Orlean, his inferiority complex dawns on him and he fails to deliver. In the process he seeks help from his twin brother (Which I doubt to be the script writers twin personality, his confident side). The movie so brilliantly captures the book, its character and blends into it the script writer’s dilemma of adapting it into a movie. The movie has brilliant star cast, Meryl Streep as the author of the book, Susan Orlean, Nicholas cage as the script writer Charlie Kauffman and Chris Cooper who won the Oscars for best supporting actor for his portray of the orchid thief, John Laroche.

Drive - Coimbatore, Bhavanisagar Dam and Kodiveri

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 15 May 2011 02:20:00 +0000

It has been a season of long drives. I was on the road again during the weekend of 6^th driving to Coimbatore. This time, I decided to take the Mysore-Chamrajnagar –Sathyamangala route as it is supposed to be very scenic, especially the Bannari Ghat with its 27 hair pin bends. I started at around 6:00 AM and reached Mysore by 8:00 AM. Several roundabouts and narrow roads puts you on a road to Nanjangud but helpful localities will direct you easily. The stretch of road from Mysore to Chamrajnagar is not very well paved and the roads are narrow. In my driving spree I rejected my plans to stop at Nanjangud and decided to reach the in-laws place for lunch. Road past Chamrajanagar is very scenic and the roads on the Tamilnadu side are wide and well paved. This raised in me the questions of role of ministries in both the states and which does stage comparisons.

During my drives, I have always offered a drop to people in need so when three truck drivers speaking in Tamil requested me to drop them near their vehicle; I obliged and asked them to hop in. But as I drove across the lonely ghat section, I began to notice their shabby appearance, their speech not very familiar to me, the power of three verses one poor me, the carelessly lying cash filled wallet of mine and a good digital camera. My mind could not stop thinking of the positives I had. Though very less, I did have control over the car which made me feel a little good. In the mirror, I saw one of the guys looking at the wallet and I tried to stay close to other trucks (one or two here and there) in case I had to cry for help. But my thoughts relaxed once they pointed at a truck that had crashed down into a ditch. “Anna” (Brother) they referred to me and asked me to slow the car down and look at it. They got off in a kilometer or so after that as the parked truck of theirs appeared. They had traveled to pack food. They thanked me with lot of gratitude and admiration.

I recollected the scenes from the movie – Crash. Where a white policemen who understands and rejects racism cannot help suspecting a black guy to whom he offers lift to. Irrespective of all the broad mindedness we may have, we are susceptible to consider the class distinction that man has created. We are prone to suspect our own fellow beings whom we choose to separate by a so called poverty line. What we hear and read change us and them to more strengthen the belief in the distinction. If it were not a lonely road may be I would not have thought so but still, I did.

At Coimbatore, the first day was spent eating great food cooked by my mother in law and some drive around the city looking for an OTG (Oven Toaster Griller) and an adjustable spanner.

My Wife's Little Cousin excited about the bubbles

On Saturday (May7th) we decided to go on a short drive out of the city to Bhavanisagar dam which is located on the Bhavani River between Mettupalayam and Sathyamangalam in Erode District. The drive is excellent with deserted roads and lot of greenery. Unfortunately the authorities do not allow us on top of the dam since a few years after several suicide cases. So we took a short walk around the park and immediately drove to Kodiveri falls which is 10 Kms from Sathyamangala while driving towards Erode.

The place was densely populated by tourists like any other place I have visited in Tamilnadu. Out first impression of the place was - “not clean”. But the euphoria at a waterfall is always contagious and we could not stop ourselves from finding spare clothes and jumping into the water along with hundreds of them.

While near the falls, a guy frequently took a walk into the falls and returned so happily as if he had achieved something very great. He told me that we could just walk into the falls and reach a place where the falls flows over you with not a single drop of water touching you. I followed him and walked through the falls, indeed it was a superb experience, to observe the entire trajectory that the water follows.

On one side of the falls there was a dead goat which nobody seemed to bother about. We told the authorities twice about it but they just nodded their head rigorously as though to take immediate action but did not move an inch to act.

While returning back to Bangalore next day, I drove the Bhavani-Mettur-Thoppur way. I got off the fast but boring, four-lane NH-47 at Bhavani and took the road to Mettur. I call it “The Tamarind Tree road” because almost three fourth of the entire stretch is covered by tamarind trees on either side. It is a beautiful drive along the villages where the farmers seem very happy. This is second good thing I notice in Tamilnadu apart from the roads. The farmers unlike in other parts of the country that I have visited seem happy. I assume agriculture is well recognized by the Government here and if my assumption is any right then it is one of the best things to be. Agriculture is heart of any economy.

By the way this Mettur deviation avoids driving via Salem; saves around 50Kms and avoids a toll of Rs150 but reduces the speed from 120Km/h to 60Km/h. So pick the best that suits your need!

Drive - Shettihalli and Surathkal

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 01 May 2011 05:43:00 +0000

While in the US (Colorado Springs), some nights, I would take a drive alone around the city. I would always pick the Garden of the Gods….Which is a public park open till 11:00 PM during summer. I would drive on the lonely roads with absolutely no other light except the ones from my automobile. I would drive up to the balancing rocks and then climb on top of one of the rocks next to them to get a beautiful glimpse of the city sparkling like stars spread on a sky…

Though nothing equivalent, but I had a long drive all alone for the first time after I bought the car. I took my automobile called i10 on a stroll to Surathkal…my home town on the 21^st of April. Many eyebrows raised – Alone!!! Won’t you get bored? Tired? Is it safe? What if something happens? Like many in my geographical location (Being politically correct :-)) would generally ask. I choose to answer some, and ignore the rest. Because, as I am perceived in the minds of others; I am known to behave differently from the clan, which answers many of the questions even before being asked anyways.

On my drive to Mangalore….I had one agenda – To visit a church in ruins, submerged in the backwaters of Hemavathi dam. I hit the road at 6:00AM, at 9:00 reached Hassan (Thanks to the four lane construction on NH-48); I asked for directions for Shettihalli. Many rough calculations say – 2Kms off the road. So don’t worry here is what you have to do –

While traveling from Bangalore to Mangalore, take the Bypass route at Hassan…Some distance gone you see a Reliance petrol bunk on your right. Few meters from here is the first junction where the road to left takes you to Gorur. Don’t take this road! Drive further on the bypass and a kilometer or so gone, you fill find another small junction (small I say, as the roads that meet are very narrow and off centered) which apparently also takes a left deviation to Gorur. Take left and drive 15 Kms to reach Shettihalli. A few meters past the village on your left stands The Rosary church sadly overlooking the backwaters of Hemavathi dam.

I parked my car and walked to the church. I was glad that unlike some dull pictures on the internet, I was fortunate to witness greenery that seemed as though trying to remind the monument of its lively days. But the church stood silently, definitely dead. Some television crew, along with few villagers had just finished shooting a video and they left as I approached the church.

According to villagers, French missionaries built the church in 1860 for wealthy British estate owners in Alur and Sakleshpur. The church was reportedly built with mortar and bricks and a mixture of jaggery and eggs. Villagers say that this has given the edifice the strength to withstand the vagaries of nature. The church was used by Christians in Shettyhalli, Changaravalli, Madanakopplu, Doddkopplu and Gaddekopplu.

Though the church lacks a roof, there are remains of the pillars in the nave and an almost intact altar. An array of pockets on the side walls of a structure hints once presence of a wooden stairway towards the church bell.

A few meters from the church is a small piece of land with a bush of bougainvillea flowers and the May bulb flowers (Red Allium Globemaster). I am sure somebody lived there and had planted them. I wondered if it was of the father. He could have been someone from France or Britain and like every other missionary would have promoted his religion and tried to attract people towards his faith. Did he convince people? Did they get offended by his talk? Was he nice to them? Where they good to him in return? As I sat there having breakfast, several such thoughts crossed my mind. Several years from now, I hope all this becomes a myth and a bad memory to be forgotten and man, like all other animals becomes back into one species with no distinction of class, religion, country or colour. The more we progress, the more I see the distinctions add on but the amount of globalization happening has sparked a hope in me.

Rest of my drive was great. The evergreen forests of Shiradi ghat welcomed with good weather and nice roads.

A small accident blocked the traffic at Nelliyadi. In his attempt to avoid hitting a deaf woman, driver had to steer the automobile into a ditch. A truck helped pull the vehicle with a rope tied between them and passing through a thick tree as a support. An old man, who seemed to have lived in a foreign country for several years got irritated by the delay caused by this process. He walked down and asked a villager what had happened. After that he says – “Driving barolva? (Can’t he drive?), In India nobody knows to drive properly.” He makes a general statement. The boy answering him thankfully was very sharp who said – “Sir, this is an accident…things happen in fraction of a second.” Perfect answer!

I reached home by 3:30 PM.

My vacation was great. I relaxed all day at home, walked by the farm and met cousins and friends. But my trip had to be eventful, so one day I plan to drive to Mangalore and as I sit in my car to drive and look straight, I see the images cracked. A coconut had fallen from the tree, on the sheet at the top and bounced on the car's front glass living it crushed and several cracks propagating from it. Thankfully I got it repaired in a day with the Hyundai service being excellent and hopefully most of the cost will be covered by insurance.

Some random Pictures taken at Home!

Anyways with that incident, most of my holiday was spent relaxing at home, which in a way was very refreshing. Mother had cooked several "Mangalore special" foods that kept me in good company. I drove back on Sunday (April -24^th) with few plants in the car's trunk – purple hibiscus, Ceylon Jasmine, Mangalore jasmine and an unknown creeper.

Madhugiri

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 13:17:00 +0000

Madhugiri fort was in my list of places to trek since a long time. And last weekend (April 16th) I finally planned to cover the Madhugiri taluk. My research showed a fort hill, few temples and a blackbuck sanctuary that made this trip defined under more than just “A” tag. Friends S, M and I left home at around 6AM and reached Madhugiri at around 8:30AM. We stopped by a very quiet and serene place just before reaching the town, to have our packed breakfast. Beneath a banyan tree, overlooking a few hills, we boosted our energy with some food.

As you enter the town, you can see the tall magnificent monolith – Asia’s tallest. You can drive inside the fort gates and park by the Kodandaram temple. The priest told us that there were few temples at the top but the idols have been reinstalled down as it was difficult to climb up.

At 3930 feet elevation, Madhugiri is a single hill. It is the largest in Asia and second largest in the world. Nestled in its steep slopes is a fort built by vijayanagara dynasty. Antaralada Bagilu, Diddibagilu, and Mysore Gate are the three gateways of the fort. A series of doorways leads to the hillock. The ruined temple of Gopalakrishna is located at the top.

The trek up, was excellent and very interesting with several false summits. Initial flights of stairs disappear into plain rocks or some cutouts to climb but there are grills to hold on to. Several entrances within the fort lead to old structures and temples. There is a nice pushkarani type of pond inside.

After about two hours we reached the summit where you can find a temple in ruins (with almost no hint left of a temple) and a nice long shelter by its side. I assume the soldiers rested here. We relaxed at the top for a while experiencing the cool breeze and a beautiful view of the town and surroundings.

In the town are two old temples of Venkataramanaswami and Malleshwara built by the Vijayanagara feudatories in the Dravidian style.

There is not much option for food here, after several enquiries we finally had our lunch at a hotel in the KSRTC bus stand. We enquired about the Maidana halli Jayamangala black buck sanctuary with a shop keeper and he directed us with a warning - “Every time I have been there, I have had a flat tire.”

The sanctuary is a left deviation on Madhugiri-Pavagad road. There are good directions everywhere and hence one won’t find much difficulty getting here.

The sanctuary is something i did not expect to see within 100kms from Bangalore. It was vast 100's of acres of land. We were lucky to spot some as soon as we entered. We took a drive on the mud road. The forest guard informed us that he could take us on a guided tour and there were guest house if one wanted to stay overnight. Most of the black bucks, he says are now migrating out of the sanctuary to the farms nearby and shall return during rain, which would be the best time to visit, he says.

Some photographer had pictured several birds and animals in the sanctuary; impressive pictures of which hang on the guest room walls. We thanked the forest guard and left. We were lucky to spot some more blackbucks that seemed to keep an eye on us and run away as we moved any closer. Apart from them, several birds were more approachable for some good photograph.

M had to leave to Chitradurga and he had to board a bus near Nelamangala at 6:30PM. With little time we had, I drove very fast. In the hurry no one noticed that we had taken the Tumkur route which actually turned out positive as we had more time now for him to board. We stopped at Pavithra hotel, Tumkur which is famous for Thate idly and awesome masala dosa. Just when we were about to leave, someone pointed at our flat tire. I recollected the warning from the shopkeeper. A little more than the speed at which they change tires in a F1 race, we three jumped at the process. As one set the caution board, one set the jack and other loosened the nuts. The tire was changed in no time and we quickly dumped everything back and drove to the toll booth were M had to board his bus. The last ten minutes of this trip was the most eventful of it all.

It was a very nice and not a overly planned trip hence it was so very exciting with so many unexpected happenings that together form a trip. I realize that we should allow events to form together and create a trip and not plan every single moment of it. It is these unexpected's that build a great memory.

Ramadevara Betta and Revansiddeshwara!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 10:53:00 +0000

My wife P and I were joined by my cousins and their friends for a trek to two hills in Ramanagara on the 2nd of April. We left home at 6:00 AM and reached Revannasiddeshwara Betta base by around 7:00 AM and started climbing the hill immediately. While driving from Bangalore, the road to the hill turns left from Ramanagara just past the Mini Vidhanasaoudha.

The trek is pretty easy and seemed a very short one to all of us. Of course I was here once before in 2009 and new the place well. We reached the top by 8:00 AM were some other devotees waited for the priest to come and open the temple doors. The monkeys bothered the visitors by dragging away their foods; hence we decided to have our breakfast somewhere at the base. We walked down; drove a nice place by a lake filled with lily and had our packed food. A care taker of a nearby Mango groove traded few raw mangoes for some pickle that he would later, I believe will relish along with the alcohol. We drove to Ramadevarabetta, near the town. It’s a nice ride till the gate and around 500 steps lead you up the hill. On the way we spotted this cool place exactly similar to the 127 Hours type and we tried some experiments like Aron Ralston.

After the flight of steps you reach an open area with two temples (Rama and Shiva) and a lake surrounded by more rocks. We climbed the one on the right as it had well defined trail. It had some steep elevations at the summit. The view from the top as usual was mesmerizing.

I was thrilled with the thought of climbing the rock on the left, as it did not seem to have a well defined path up the summit. My cousin N and I began this adventure as the ladies rested at the open area. We found a trial that ended some distance gone and then, we experimented with the route to get to top which was very exciting. The rocks lay there one hugging other, one overlapping the other and the place reminded me of the adventures of Aron Ralston more than ever. We found a trial to return and followed it to the temple.

Our next stop was good lunch at Kamath. Karavali Otta was a treat with several Mangalore dishes like Pathrodey and sheme begin served. Next to the hotel is a cultural museum with some artifacts from centuries before. It also has good collection of photos and models depicting different art forms around our state. A folk video was being shot here. It was a mix of emotions there. The villagers who had come to perform were innocent and some like many artists, overly sentimental. A organizers with sugar coated words took advantage of their sentiments, a director corrected their positions and body language.

We next drove to Doddalada mara, which is a huge banyan tree spread across a vast land now converted into a park. We had one stroll around there and having nothing much to see, we drove to Manchebelle dam.

The dam is closed to visitors but we hoped to drive by the backwaters to watch the sunset but unfortunately on that day and on national holidays even the road to backwaters is closed. Two police constables stood there to stop people. Seeing an hour more to sunset, we returned back home.

It was a great day and I was happy to have covered a lot of places around Bangalore.

2011 Indian Anti Corruption Movement

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 13:54:00 +0000

On 5th of April 2011, 71 year old Anna Hazare started a 'fast unto death' to exert pressure on the Government of India to enact a strong anti-corruption act as envisaged in the Jan Lokpal Bill, a law that will establish a Lokpal (ombudsman) that will have the power to deal with corruption in public offices.

People across India supported this movement and Bangalore was no behind. Four citizens went on indefinite fast in front of Freedom Park. Few of my office colleagues wanted to be part of this and so after work, we arrived at the location. Here we joined thousands of others who had arrived to support the movement.

We filled forms that asked for our name and address; collected candles and stickers from other supporters and walked to the pathway to join the other supporters. The air filled with several slogans such as – “Bekke Beku Lokpal beku” (Lokpal is a must); “Gali Gali Mein shoor hein Sarey Neta choor hein.” (Voices in every street say, all the politicians are thieves) “ Vande Mataram” (Mother, I bow to thee!), “Jai Bharath Matha Ki.” (Long live India) “Kodolla Kodolla Luncha Kodolla.”(No we won’t, no we won’t, Give bribe) and so on.

(Picture from the Net)

There were people from ever genre and every age and we all lit the candles. I saw the frustration turn into revolution in many Indians who rather see their tax being spent on development of the nation and not the politicians.

After few hours of slogans, we had talks from the citizens fasting who expressed their agitation towards Government and corruption. Some comments such as – “A king with power and no responsibility is dangerous. I am a common man without power but responsibility.” Were direct blows even without names being mentioned. Together the crowd sang the national anthem and “Hum honge Kamiyab….” This morning we woke up to good news that Government has agreed to the demands and Anna Hazare would break his fast. It was a great movement and I am glad I was able to be part of it.

The initial aggressiveness of young software engineers, reminded me of the French student revolution or a German Baader-meinhof red army factions emerge but then I realized that we have been blessed by the principles of Mahatma, which teaches us non-violent ways of protest against injustice. I am glad we have this history and learning’s that hopefully would prevent us for a long time from taking fanatic approaches that usually does more bad than good.

White Mold!!!!! & Mealybugs!!!!!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 10:55:00 +0000

I have been too involved with my (balcony) garden lately, in studying them and their behavior towards climatic and positional changes. Two new flowering plants have arrived to the collection.

A weird Moss Rose.

Vinca Rose - Peach

But what worries me actually now, more than anything else, is the fungus, that has been affecting my plants.

They first appeared on the marigold and lasted in them until the plant perished. These are white, insect like creatures that seem to originate from a web at the stem region and then spread in all directions. Some study refers to moist conditions for their origin. Whatever the origin is, it seems impossible to get rid of them and now I have 4 of my plants infected. Medicines have failed me.

“White mold, or sclerotinia, is a plant disease caused by fungal infection. The fungus Sclerotinia sclerotiorum is the most common culprit, but some other Sclerotinia species also infect plants. White mold is also sometimes called stem rot, stalk rot, wilt, or head rot. The fungus is most common in temperate climates, though it can grow in a wide variety of ecological environments. Sclerotinia sclerotiorum is one of the most successful plant pathogens and it affects some of our most important food crops.”

The result is slower growth of plants, no flowers and even if there are any, the flowers are infected and never bare seeds. I even doubt the pigeons that always dirty my balcony; could they have carried the disease? Also some of the plants have this moving creature wom i suspect to be meally bugs....not sure though.

Those White spots....

My uncle told me this first – “Can’t do anything with them, you have to throw the plant.” Even though I did value his advice based on his good gardening background, it bothered me to pluck the plant away without trying some remedies. So may be the hard way but satisfying indeed, I tried the medicine which failed.

Reading through the net now, I find similar recommendations like that of my uncle. It asks for replacement of the affected soil completely and pruning of the infected regions.

So I am doing what seems the best now - Separating of the affected plants, replacing the soil and replanting the pruned plant. I have to experiment them with one to see the result. I really hope it works and my plants survive.

So are there any another emotionally easy way to get rid of this crazy white predator?

Rythm!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 03:22:00 +0000

I am beginning to realize that everything we do follows a rhythm, and if we recognize that rhythm then nothing seems to be difficult or stressful or disappointing.

With my ear phones plugged-in one day, I stepped out of my house towards the office cab. As the music played, I observed that everything around me happened so much in sync with the music itself; the moving of the vehicle, people, dancing of trees with the wind and so on. This might have occurred before but it was the first time I realized that.

Since then I have been noticing them in everything I do. When we jog, the body adheres to a rhythm, once you are able to recognize that, the jog becomes tireless; when I cycle, in the movement of the paddle – up and down, as the leg follows it; when reading, in the coordination of eye and mind. While painting, in the flexing of the brush.

Not sure how true this is but, the secret lies within!

Simple Things!

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sat, 05 Mar 2011 14:38:00 +0000

Sometimes I wonder, what makes few trips interesting, in spite of it not including any great journey; perhaps its the unexpectedness and company of like-minded people. If you may pick certain trips of yours and try to think why they were special, then those events standout that you did not plan and has involved people who did not think about the decisions made, they readily agreed! So was this small adventurous journey to a temple, near Rajarajeshwari nagar, close to NICE road.

The temple is by the NICE road and I had always wanted to go there, a small temple recently built on a small hill, that during the evenings has sunset in its backdrop which enriches its beauty further more. When I expressed my desire to visit the temple, everyone in our office cab readily agreed. So we planned to stop at NICE road one day with the intention to walk up there. But for our surprise we saw that the NICE road is built in such a way that a huge compound wall separates people from trespassing. So we are left with only one option, jump!

After evaluating the best spot for jumping, we began climbing down the slopes. It was great fun to see everyone so eagerly wanting to do this and nobody showed any hesitation. After that great display of enthusiasm, we all jumped past the NICE road compound and walked up the hill to visit the temple.

It is a small Maariamma temple with a very beautiful idol of the goddess, even more gracefully decorated. The temple is built in form of a chariot, made of granite.

After enjoying the view of sunset in the west, full moon in the east and some tasty Puliogre prasada, we walked back to the cab.

The incident left a good impression in our minds and we wanted to do this again. So we stopped yesterday but while crossing over, we got spotted by the NICE road patrol who asked us to clear the premises but however allowed us to pass over the compound. This time we also visited the Subramanya temple close by, that has beautiful sculptures of lord Karthikeya in its Gopura. Even though not the main attraction, I do have to mention the amazingly tasty Sweet and spicy pongal that is served here as Prasad, they were just too brilliant.

Though this was another funny and memorable experience we decided not to violate the rules again though doing so has always been a fun as a teenager and perhaps still does, but as grownup’s we are more “expected” to abide by the law. :-)

But this trip was worth all that adventure. :-)

Thanks To My Friend Shankh for the pictures!

Makalidurga

noreply@blogger.com (AJEYA RAO) — Sun, 27 Feb 2011 09:22:00 +0000

Our Cab to office is known for its unique initiatives. One of which has been trekking; after two exhilarating treks this was the third and I must say the group has grown. The destination this time was - Makalidurga, near Doddaballapura (12 Kms from Ghati Subramanya temple).

On a nice Wednesday morning of 26th January, ten of us left Bangalore in two cars at around 6:45 AM. We met the third car at Yelahanka were our colleague V was waiting for us. We drove to Makalidurga which is a left deviation on main road that goes via village of Makalli. About two kilometers gone on the mud road, you find a parking spot on the right. We packed our breakfast and started the trek right away.

The trek is easy and there are some directions painted in red and yellow that if gets unnoticed (which is quite possible during the beginning of the trek as the paint has faded away) you may end up viewing the summit from every possible direction around it. :-)

Our climb was very relaxed, with light topics that created laughs. We stopped at a right place to have our breakfast to have packed chapathi’s and Saagu. We reached the summit after almost 2 hours of climb with that speed and I am sure it can be completed in 1.5 hours otherwise.

View on top – A fort in ruins, but most of the stones look polished as reasonably of the recent times that the era of kings, a small temple with Shiva idol with dry flowers representing the sign of being unattended for a few days now, with Nandi rejecting the view of a hill top and devoted towards his lord, some broken idols lying here and there carelessly.

On the summit we picked a best spot to view the trains wind and twist through the hills, several lakes with lorry’s being washed, a National highway with tiny little four wheelers speeding to some destination unknown to us. After a good time with more light talks at the summit, we walked back to the base which took about 1.5 Hours or may be less.

Our next stop was Ghati Subramanya, which is a left deviation the way back to Bangalore from Makali. Being a holiday, the temple was extremely crowded. We had to follow a long queue that twisted and turned around the temple for 1.5 hours before we got in to the main shrine to witness a beautiful idol of Subramanya and Narasimha in the backdrop. During our wait, we witnessed several interesting characters – several wanting to break into the queue, several protesting, several giving up , many monkeys relaxing on the roof, some trying to grab the offerings and one man who thought waiting at a temple was no queue when people stocked in front of malls in city.

A television set with live telecast of the main shrine; show an advanced technology influence to the old beliefs. Many worshipped the image on the television. We drove back to Doddaballapura where we had evening snacks in a hotel and then stopped by V’s house for coffee and good conversation with his mother on her travels around India and religious importance of some places around Bangalore. She stressed upon the point that whenever we visit some place we must learn the historical importance of the place and should read books on them before visiting them and then the whole visit becomes more meaningful. True.

Ghati Subramanya has an interesting story. The hill was filled with several snakes and hence they were under the threat of attack by the kites, in their fear they received shelter in Narasimha who offered to establish his’ powers to prevent the attack. The Narashimha behind the Subramanya idol represents this belief.

It was a very nice day with interesting short lived moments that many a times emerge out of nowhere and disappear again to nowhere after being enhanced with a laugh creating a fun moment.