Makalidurga Impromptu
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| Makalidurga from the road |
As I turn
in my sleep, I feel something warm and furry under my feet. It’s not my
blanket. It is moving. I wake up with a start. It takes me a while to gather
where I am. I am in a hut sixty kilometres out of Bangalore. There is an
elderly couple sleeping beside me. Then, there are dogs, all around my bed.
Seven, eight – I don’t know how many. There is a tug of war between us, for the
chatai and the blanket. Luckily I haven’t been bitten yet, for I have
definitely slept on most of them. I shoo them to make enough space, and fall
asleep instantly, sweetly sore.
I am up at
six, but so are the man and lady of the house. I quickly pack up my soggy
jacket and poncho among other things, and gesture that I am leaving. The old
man holds out his right hand, asking for money. He is shouted at wildly by the
woman, in Kannada, which I off course can’t make head or tail of. But I get the
gist. I take out my wallet and give both of them some change. They don’t trust
each other with the dough it seems. I ask for Makalidurga, and the old lady
waves her hands around, indicating that I should go behind the temple.
It’s a
cool morning, and the sun is still in the clouds. I follow a narrow trail going
up steadily through thorny bushes. I am sure it’s not the right route, but I go
up regardless. Soon there is no way to go but down, with a smooth rock slab
towering over me. But I am bull headed today. I take off my shoes, and start
climbing. The start is a little tricky, but I gain confidence as I go up. At
about twenty feet, however, there is a boulder blocking my path. I am sure I
can’t climb down without the chance of hurting myself. I get into the crack
running through its middle, and clamber over it. After that, the route eases
out, and when I reach flat ground, I cry out in relief. My first solo climb,
barefoot and with an ungainly sack! Next time I should decide rationally rather
than instinctively, I chide myself. Elated, but in disbelief, I roam around the
large plateau on top, and locate the temple. I stand there a while and go over
the events of the previous day and the morning.
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| Atop Makalidurga |
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| Temple at the top |
I started from Bangalore around three thirty, on an impulse, my mind begging to get out of the confines of the city. It took me too much time to get out of the city, and so it was a struggle to reach the base before sundown. I passed Yelahanka and Dodaballapur en route, stopping for just a couple of minutes to enjoy a gorgeous evening. Dark clouds were looming in the sky, and I felt fatigued, having cycled non-stop for more than three hours. I Arrived at Makalidurga station at seven, where I asked for directions. When I hit the dirt track, it was completely dark and had started to rain. Totally exhausted, I half dragged, half cycled to the railway tracks. Crossing over to the other side I found the temple that I had read about. I parked my cycle there, and went to the nearby hut to ask if I could stay the night there. I was lucky, and was even served food – delicious chicken and mutton! I hit the sack soon after, spent, the passing trains whistling lullabies.
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| Shades of grey and red |
It’s half
past seven in the morning now. I am not looking forward to the downhill, my
left leg quite stiff from the exertions of last evening and morning. I slowly
hobble down the marked trail. After light breakfast I hit the road at nine. The
sun is already burning, and riding is a toil. I take frequent breaks to give my
legs rest, and replenish myself with narial pani and idli. I am
at the outskirts by twelve. Dehydrated, with my left leg starting to hurt, I
cycle back through the pollution filled streets of the city, back to the urban
madness. My heart yearns for more. Perhaps next week …
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