Shadows of Perfection
Disclaimer: The ideas expressed are not solely of the author. Any relevance to any person whatsoever is purely coincidental. Please read at your own risk.
One experiences such enigmatic charisma of sights, sounds, smells and even emotions which run wild when everything around is so different from what it generally is. Light, sound, action: the trip began and dwelled into something approaching a melodramatic overwhelming emotional experience.
Twenty seven people, a mini-bus and an unwinding zeal is all it took to shape out what I would describe as a rendezvous with nature and an eternally mesmerizing trip to Talakadu and ShivaSamudram. One does not realize how beautiful a trip was until he comes back and rests his head on his old familiar pillow. As I pen this down and try to relive those moments, I have a sudden and extraordinary flash: something that cannot be experienced (but in person); something that shines as a single vision illuminated by lightening.
After a long wait that started with the driver turning up late, we were finally off: all surrounded by an aura of bubbling emotions. Slowly the head-count reached twenty seven, and then started the party (with Bahamen singing 'Who Let the Dogs Out'). Singing (the vocalists of the day being Rakesh and the branded B S Vodka Rao) and dancing (the ballerina of the day being Sandhya and Badri in bursts of danseur’s skills) to the tune of Vedic Civilization’s stereo system, the party moved on under Surendra’s vigilance at the door. Though everyone took the opportunity to project their skill, the stage was deprived of our still dancers: Rajesh, Megha, Srini, Meghana, Aparna, and Rakshit. Kavitha was pushed but probably the cold undid her. Or maybe the cramps after sharing the seat with Vijay had their say! And the sweet cuckoo sound from Chandra, Preethy and Megha doesn’t even need a mention. Preethy and Chandra saved their invaluable words for some other day. Probably one trip is not enough to hear them all!
Our first halt made Kiruthika go in passive mode. Probably she ate a bit too much while we halted for breakfast, at Kamat, for as much as one hour! With all tanks full again (and with Surendra still standing at the door), the company marched on. A trip without a change in plans! No, never. Some unfortunate accident caused some unfortunate strike which led to our fortunate detour. As luck would have it, we had the opportunity to travel through the picturesque alleys wherein (as I would have it) all had sugarcane (some snatched from trolleys and others stolen from farms!). And finally, jumping in our higgledy-piggledy joyride, we reached what we planned to cover as the first half of our trip. We reached Talakadu.
Five temples and a lake is what were in store. A little guide and Anand the manager (then the translator) led us to our round trip. Temples and their history sunk too deep inside the heart to dig out, so we shall directly go and have our lunch. But before that, how can we forget the eavesdropping of the tennis ball on Asha. It was as if an advertiser would put it “Wherever you go the ball follows”. And how can one ignore Sandhya’s and Rakshit’s excursion on a bullock cart!
Three in the afternoon, that it was, all were raring to jump on anything and everything edible. Puliyodree, curd-rice, namkeen, chips and dry-jamun is what all relished. Vivek’s unquenchable solicitude for other’s cholesterol levels made sure that others were spared of the thought of touching the jamuns. Kalpagam, Vijay and Vipin had a course of lunch time gossip discussing Mr. Porter’s future course of action! There goes Rowling and her job. Apart from that Vipin was seemingly lost: why, only some people know! Kalpagam would be sitting with her eyes wide.
Rejuvenated, everyone seemed ready for action. Srini even said, “I have an animal in me”(hmmm, that was news!). Raja, the artist, was all prepared with his swim-wear. People bought themselves shorts, Vijay chose it. People jumped into the water with the same naughty ball (Vijay took his time). Finally he conquered all and landed inside with the script already written: then the inevitable happened. All that was unheard was a loud screeching noise cocooned by the deafness of the lake.
After half an hour of water-sports we were persuaded out of water. But there was more to it. We saw to it that Ranjith too, who was smiling his sweet smile on the shore, did not miss out on the fun! Four of us caught hold of him and the rest was like “Doabara Mat Poochna”. But alas, Anand who was privy to all that was happening to Ranjith, ran as if the party was in some kind of hose murderous mood. But, there’s always a next time.
We moved on, exploring the infinity of new never ending clusters (to land at ShivaSamudaram and surrender meekly to the shadows of perfection). We rambled to the then unknown, with gladiators fighting out in the arena of Dumb Charades and Ramki holding fort with a music band of his own. Even, the otherwise silent, Loganathan made Tamilians proud of their musical heritage. And there was the last bencher in Shyam (wetting the seat with his wet jeans, you guys think too much!) unable to play out his round of Dumb Cherades. The camera was found lacking in capturing Shyam’s big round smile which threatened to eat us all! Surendra’s eternal wait at the door was finally rewarded. As lady luck would have it, he caught a glimpse of an old pal across some other bus. Journey, like truth, is born and not made. But I guess Surendra made it for himself!
The descent down to the foothills of the waterfalls was not a piece of pastry, nor that of a chocolate! But the girl, the Mon*, never parting with her contagious smile, made sure that everyone got down safely and crossed the onerous path without any hiccups. Ask Vivek about the pains she took to make him cross the frontier (never mind that she did not get Chocolate from her Masterji, never mind the efforts she had to put in to wet Rakshit ‘as he is very tall’, she still did it). For this and much more Deepa deserves a quotation on her. Sandhya, are you listening?
Ramki, with all his josh was the first to touch the oasis of the divine bed. He climbed first and we followed. Words cannot talk and phrases cannot describe the majestic feeling of invincibility when you point your hands to heaven. Nothing but the sound of silence: nothing but you and Him. All rejoiced in the celebration and dwelled in their mystic communion. We delayed, but time didn’t and soon the moon beckoned us to reach out and climb up. Here again the little girl left her mark (as Vivek would appreciate).
And with the head-count back to awesome twenty-seven, we left the place: with everyone’s heart as peaceful and pure as snow. For bachelors, fearing an empty stomach, we decided to have our potluck on the way. Satisfied (not Vipin) and exhausted (specially the ladies!), the caravan started on the last trek of its expedition. But Rakesh had different ideas. He made sure that Deepa did not and could not fall into any dream spiral. But Megha, naaaa. Even Rakesh could not pierce the protective shield of her shawl.
It was back to Bangalore, and the story comes to an end. It was like reading one more page out of the extensive, ornamented Indian book. I close with satisfaction and serenity in my heart. Thanks to you all you wonderful people for an experience that forms a chapter in my life. But please don’t come to my desk to fight out role share in the above chapter!
One experiences such enigmatic charisma of sights, sounds, smells and even emotions which run wild when everything around is so different from what it generally is. Light, sound, action: the trip began and dwelled into something approaching a melodramatic overwhelming emotional experience.
Twenty seven people, a mini-bus and an unwinding zeal is all it took to shape out what I would describe as a rendezvous with nature and an eternally mesmerizing trip to Talakadu and ShivaSamudram. One does not realize how beautiful a trip was until he comes back and rests his head on his old familiar pillow. As I pen this down and try to relive those moments, I have a sudden and extraordinary flash: something that cannot be experienced (but in person); something that shines as a single vision illuminated by lightening.
After a long wait that started with the driver turning up late, we were finally off: all surrounded by an aura of bubbling emotions. Slowly the head-count reached twenty seven, and then started the party (with Bahamen singing 'Who Let the Dogs Out'). Singing (the vocalists of the day being Rakesh and the branded B S Vodka Rao) and dancing (the ballerina of the day being Sandhya and Badri in bursts of danseur’s skills) to the tune of Vedic Civilization’s stereo system, the party moved on under Surendra’s vigilance at the door. Though everyone took the opportunity to project their skill, the stage was deprived of our still dancers: Rajesh, Megha, Srini, Meghana, Aparna, and Rakshit. Kavitha was pushed but probably the cold undid her. Or maybe the cramps after sharing the seat with Vijay had their say! And the sweet cuckoo sound from Chandra, Preethy and Megha doesn’t even need a mention. Preethy and Chandra saved their invaluable words for some other day. Probably one trip is not enough to hear them all!
Our first halt made Kiruthika go in passive mode. Probably she ate a bit too much while we halted for breakfast, at Kamat, for as much as one hour! With all tanks full again (and with Surendra still standing at the door), the company marched on. A trip without a change in plans! No, never. Some unfortunate accident caused some unfortunate strike which led to our fortunate detour. As luck would have it, we had the opportunity to travel through the picturesque alleys wherein (as I would have it) all had sugarcane (some snatched from trolleys and others stolen from farms!). And finally, jumping in our higgledy-piggledy joyride, we reached what we planned to cover as the first half of our trip. We reached Talakadu.
Five temples and a lake is what were in store. A little guide and Anand the manager (then the translator) led us to our round trip. Temples and their history sunk too deep inside the heart to dig out, so we shall directly go and have our lunch. But before that, how can we forget the eavesdropping of the tennis ball on Asha. It was as if an advertiser would put it “Wherever you go the ball follows”. And how can one ignore Sandhya’s and Rakshit’s excursion on a bullock cart!
Three in the afternoon, that it was, all were raring to jump on anything and everything edible. Puliyodree, curd-rice, namkeen, chips and dry-jamun is what all relished. Vivek’s unquenchable solicitude for other’s cholesterol levels made sure that others were spared of the thought of touching the jamuns. Kalpagam, Vijay and Vipin had a course of lunch time gossip discussing Mr. Porter’s future course of action! There goes Rowling and her job. Apart from that Vipin was seemingly lost: why, only some people know! Kalpagam would be sitting with her eyes wide.
Rejuvenated, everyone seemed ready for action. Srini even said, “I have an animal in me”(hmmm, that was news!). Raja, the artist, was all prepared with his swim-wear. People bought themselves shorts, Vijay chose it. People jumped into the water with the same naughty ball (Vijay took his time). Finally he conquered all and landed inside with the script already written: then the inevitable happened. All that was unheard was a loud screeching noise cocooned by the deafness of the lake.
After half an hour of water-sports we were persuaded out of water. But there was more to it. We saw to it that Ranjith too, who was smiling his sweet smile on the shore, did not miss out on the fun! Four of us caught hold of him and the rest was like “Doabara Mat Poochna”. But alas, Anand who was privy to all that was happening to Ranjith, ran as if the party was in some kind of hose murderous mood. But, there’s always a next time.
We moved on, exploring the infinity of new never ending clusters (to land at ShivaSamudaram and surrender meekly to the shadows of perfection). We rambled to the then unknown, with gladiators fighting out in the arena of Dumb Charades and Ramki holding fort with a music band of his own. Even, the otherwise silent, Loganathan made Tamilians proud of their musical heritage. And there was the last bencher in Shyam (wetting the seat with his wet jeans, you guys think too much!) unable to play out his round of Dumb Cherades. The camera was found lacking in capturing Shyam’s big round smile which threatened to eat us all! Surendra’s eternal wait at the door was finally rewarded. As lady luck would have it, he caught a glimpse of an old pal across some other bus. Journey, like truth, is born and not made. But I guess Surendra made it for himself!
The descent down to the foothills of the waterfalls was not a piece of pastry, nor that of a chocolate! But the girl, the Mon*, never parting with her contagious smile, made sure that everyone got down safely and crossed the onerous path without any hiccups. Ask Vivek about the pains she took to make him cross the frontier (never mind that she did not get Chocolate from her Masterji, never mind the efforts she had to put in to wet Rakshit ‘as he is very tall’, she still did it). For this and much more Deepa deserves a quotation on her. Sandhya, are you listening?
Ramki, with all his josh was the first to touch the oasis of the divine bed. He climbed first and we followed. Words cannot talk and phrases cannot describe the majestic feeling of invincibility when you point your hands to heaven. Nothing but the sound of silence: nothing but you and Him. All rejoiced in the celebration and dwelled in their mystic communion. We delayed, but time didn’t and soon the moon beckoned us to reach out and climb up. Here again the little girl left her mark (as Vivek would appreciate).
And with the head-count back to awesome twenty-seven, we left the place: with everyone’s heart as peaceful and pure as snow. For bachelors, fearing an empty stomach, we decided to have our potluck on the way. Satisfied (not Vipin) and exhausted (specially the ladies!), the caravan started on the last trek of its expedition. But Rakesh had different ideas. He made sure that Deepa did not and could not fall into any dream spiral. But Megha, naaaa. Even Rakesh could not pierce the protective shield of her shawl.
It was back to Bangalore, and the story comes to an end. It was like reading one more page out of the extensive, ornamented Indian book. I close with satisfaction and serenity in my heart. Thanks to you all you wonderful people for an experience that forms a chapter in my life. But please don’t come to my desk to fight out role share in the above chapter!
posted by Kapil Sundrani @ 7:36 PM
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