This blog was posted in Feb 2011.
I
t
was a month before the Tsunami that i travelled from Chennai to
Pudducherry through ECR (East Coast Road) on a bus. ECR wasn’t fully
done those days and there were
lots of potholes and so on but the sights through the trip was
mesmerising. It was then i had decided that this is one route that
needs to be cycled. But
all these years i was stuck with one thing or other, also consider that
window time available is December last week to February first week
since till mid of December East coast is lashed by North-west monsoon,
though i love to cycle in rain but prefer smaller cycle friendly roads,
there are hospitable roads that run parallel to highway along the West
coast that i happen to cycle few years back. After February Tamil Nadu
tends to be quite hot, summers are quite vicious around here. ECR is now
one of the best roads to travel, what an amazing experience. If i had
few lakhs of rupees to spare i would be on road all the time, indeed i
was quite keen to cycle up to Tuticorin (Tutikudi), i would be bankrupt
if i tried now. Cycling is not about going from one place to another it
is about experiencing the places
at every step. I study the places before i venture so as to not to miss
anything around. If i find the place interesting i stop over for an
hour or so and if it needs more time i stay overnight. This time around i
was carrying the camera and took some pics, not many though cameras can
be intrusive sometimes. Last time around i bought fancy geared cycle
this time it was second hand a rather rickety cycle that even got
punctured- fortunately the repair shop was a Km away. It was physically
quite demanding but when sights are wondrous you forget the body!! I
searched through satellite pictures of the routes beforehand, some of
the stretches were quite isolated that got me concerned but then there
aren’t many options when you put your mind into something. Either you go
ahead or you drop out.
So
after a night journey on Special train from Bangalore i was in Chennai
early morning, thankfully i got the upper seat and so could stretch
myself for a nice little nap. Frankly i shouldn’t be thanking anyone i
was determined to get a space to sleep, so as the train slowed down i
jumped in pushing few hapless but equally aggressive people, mostly
these circumstance put me off and i tend to give space for others but
tonight i was insistent, even elbowed an elderly man who gave a low
scream. It made me cringe, for a moment i thought of relenting but the
reflection of sitting through the night propelled me. The train was
already two hours late when it started-some special train this one i
thought and was asleep.
Chennai
was tough on me many years back but i have nothing against the city,
excessively sultry but generally been a nice place that is culturally
active and intellectually stimulating as also some awesome restaurants
that offer multicolour chutneys!. I had joined NIS (National Institute
of Sales that was run by NIIT), and worked as a salesman in varied kinds
of places, mostly with disastrous consequences particularly for the
employers. Though jobs weren’t my concern as much the travelling i
enjoyed so i can say with much authority that Chennai has changed for
better. If this is what development can bring then Chennai as a city can
be proud of itself, good roads with pedestrian arcade, well maintained
parks so on unlike say Bangalore-where development is leading to
disaster.
After
relaxing for a day i was out to buy the cycle, quite sure i will be in
disadvantageous position while i bargain since big shops aren’t much
keen to sell the second hands, mostly they don’t keep. I found this
fellow who had a cycle shop-not exactly a shop but he sat on the
footpath repairing cycle. The moment he heard that i was looking for
second hand cheap cycle his face brightened he dropped whatever he was
doing, the change my innocuous query brought in him puzzled me. He had
bulging eyes that he used to dramatic effect; his exaggerated mannerism
made me smile. He would slowly raise his head and look at me from one
corner of his eyes “o apidiyaa puducherry thaan poren ahaa”
as if trying to grasp as clearly as possible although it was quite a
simple matter. He took me to a cycle shop and told me to wait by winking
his eye and rotating his head. He spoke with a mechanic occasionally
pointing towards me. I too joined them and found my acquaintance
insisting with much agitation that my case should be considered and that
a second hand cycle has to be found. “Poor fellow going to puducherry
in cycle
” the way he referred to me as “paavam saar” was embarrassing to say the least. I thought of
clarifying that the reason for going to Puducherry on cycle wasn’t
monetary, there is a gross error in the way i am being portrayed. In the meantime it was decided that the cycle could be had for 1000R. It was an old rusted cycle but sturdy enough to endure the journey.
Chennai to Puducherry
is about 160Kms relatively less challenging unlike 400Kms+ i travelled
about a decade back. I thought of putting a banner on my rucksack “Save
Trees Save Forest” so that people could read, indeed trees are our
concern also this year happens to be International Year for Forests.
Cheers to that!!
I am dividing my trip into three stages:
Stage I: from the Banyan Tree at Theosophical SocietyI
was up and hit the street at about six since hotels weren’t open i had
some bananas and dates. Put my lucky charm in the front pocket-a
small greenish yellow stone i picked up from himalayas many years back,
indeed i have few more charms that i keep changing as i fancy this one
is my fvaourite. It must have been here for billions of years and maybe
under sea to get such fine polish, just incredible. If stones could tell their story!!. Anyway i feel safe when i carry it, it
must have traveled thousands of Kms with me. Within minutes i was at
Marina beach, how beautifully they have done the place, most pleasing
sight. I used to come here quite often to see the sunrise. Watching the
sun rise through the ocean is quite an amazing experience that i always
cherish, it is exhilarating to see the sky, clouds and ocean lit in
bright colours. Along Kerala you get to see sunset that makes one
contemplative. Does these impacts the way society evolve? It is not
right to generalise but to a large extend Keralites and Tamilians differ
on these very lines. Spend some time watching the sunrise. Wasn’t it Tennyson who wrote...
'And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man cannot see,
But if we could see and hear, this vision-were it not He?'
Soon
i was back to realities of life. Drank a large tender coconut, it is
the best drink in the world and i can never get tired of this nectar.
The woman had said 15R but changed it to 20R saying the coconut i chose
was of larger size, this arbitrariness
made me furious, a brief thought of clawing her face flashed in my mind
but a glance at her nails and a rather vicious vice versa possibility
dissuaded me to pursue the line of thought. Though i had the map but my
plans were simple: stick to the beach as far as possible. Very soon it
backfired i was stuck at dead end of Adyar Creek. Decided to have a
quick breakfast at the nearest joint. Pongal may look unappealing but it
is a terrific breakfast, it varies significantly from hotel to hotel, i
prefer the one that is fluidy with lots of peppercorns. As a habit the
breakfast went with newspaper
and hot coffee-i am so very like traditional elderly from small towns
of Kerala!. Five minutes is all i have for newspaper these days-pages
were full of issues of corruption and so on. Make it a point to return
the newspaper to vendor. Indeed i suggest everyone to do this or even
have a deal with the vendor.
Theosophical society is open to public
from 8.30 and i was at the gate in time, the guard though informed
that it will take some time “so roam around and come back in half an
hour” but i wasn’t in a mood to relent and told him rather loudly that
time mentioned is 8.30. He gave in rather meekly. I have visited this
place many years ago when i was ‘working’ in Chennai, don’t recall the
exact reason or chain of events that led me here. Most likely i was
roaming around the place and just got in. Since then i have read much
about Theosophical society and the enigmatic Annie Be
sant (please
visit iseeebirds.blogspot.com to read more on Annie Besant and
Theosophists). I love the banyan tree here, it is supposed to be one of
the largest in the world. Sat there for few minutes. Chennai should be
take pride that Theosophical society apart from its egalitarian views
that has influenced some remarkable people has been able to create an
oasis of green in the midst of bustling metropolis. It is a pleasant
place to walk around. They have created life size models of places of
worship of different religions as also planks that mark different
countries in the world. It is an oasis of peace, you really can feel it.
Theosophical society was created in New York 1875 later it moved
to Adyar India. Theosophy is the wisdom underlying all religions when
they are stripped of accretions and superstitions. It teaching is meant
to unfold latent spiritual nature in human being, without dependence or
fear. The society’s objective being 1) To form a nucleus of the
universal brotherhood of humanity without distinction of race, creed,
sex, caste, or colour. 2)To encourage the study of comparative religion,
philosophy, and science. 3)To investigate the unexplained laws of
nature and the powers latent in man.
I was back on the highway
and after much twists and turns was cruising the ECR, it was a bright
busy day and people were found rushing to places of work, schools,
colleges and so on. And here was i...it made me laugh. At a traffic
junction the young fellow on a brand new bike wore a bright colored
Tshirt that declared
‘God is a Designer’ and was found speaking loudly to no one, before i
could pass a judgment on his mental health i realized he was speaking
through his handless phone. Few Kms ahead traffic became sparse,
Injambakkam is about 9Km from Adyar and here towards the beach is located Cholamandal- the Artist Village.
Cholamandal
: A tranquil place steeped in history Cholamandal – credited for Madras
Movement of Art which ushered in modernism in South India- is a self
supporting artist village that was conceived by iconic artist KCS
Panicker (1911-1977
) way
back in 1966. Group of artists bought land and set up the village,
they built everything including their houses, studios, gallery, theatre,
workshop on their own. Named after Cholas who ruled along this region
and were patrons of art artists live here as a community and pool
together their skills and resources. They opted to live away from the
city not to alienate themselves from society. They worked part time for two or three hours a day
wherein the artists could freely extend their art into craft, and thus
could devote more time for contemplation and sustained creative
involvements. There is a gallery where the works of Madras Movement is
displayed, i immensely liked “Bashir with gramophone” by Namboothri
(Bashir really was quite a character!). I met Mr Senathipathi,
President of the Cholamandal association, chatted with him for few
minutes and roamed around the place. Later had a bowl of salad and sherbet at ‘Shiraz’-a Medittaranean Persian restaurant located within the village, scalded my wallet on that one!
It was already noon and
sun had become merciless but i had long way to go my destination for
the day was Kovalam (Covelong) that was about 15Km further. After
passing through MGM Dizeee world that had some attraction for usual crowd that didn’t excite me i was seeing large number of advertisement for beach front homes mostly anglicised names. At Muthukadu is located Dakshinachitra-a
non profit project of the Madras Craft Foundation for the promotion and
preservation of the cultures of the diverse people of India with
emphasis on Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka- is what
the brochure says. I happily agree to that. Dakshinachitra is an amazing place to be in and i strongly recommend to 
everyone passing through ECR to spend some time here. They have done it brilliantly, there is whole lot of activity going on here, they have transplanted entire houses from different
south Indian region to give us understanding of different communities
and so on. It was what existed through the ages till early 20th century.
Modernity has standardised the way we construct homes but peek into the
past is enlightening. I was fascinated by different models of kerala
houses; it was like entering into familiar surroundings and was
expecting someone from past to tap from behind and say “where have you
been dear, never thought about us did you?” for few moments i was
extremely nostalgic but shrugged myself out of it. Lunch was quite
tasty. I bought some souvenirs also a recipe book, the moment i saw it i
had to buy “A healthy Tastes of Indian Culture: Cooking with Yoghurt” (Viji Vardarajan). The book has won some international awards. Pachadis are always my favourite when it comes to vendakka pachadi there is no full stop!. Though i have doubts whether Pachadis are same as Raitas or these are “salads” (never), if pachadis are kootan (side dish) then how is that salad?. But must say Mrs.Vardarajan has done a remarkable job in bringing out this book. I didn’t know that curd is used making Rava idli. Somehow i never could understand
the difference between yoghurt and curd, don’t know why people come out
with different names already there is so much confusions in getting the
English names right!
Like for instance brinjal is being referred to as eggplant, in the
beginning i was wondering what exactly it is or that eggs have started
growing on plants. Why can’t brinjal be brinjal for godsake? Think of
onions and who would say it is shallot- sounds like a character straight
out of Shakespeare, well that’s what they call small onions. Onion already is replete with names pyaz, kantha, ulli, savola...and now shallot. There should be one name for each item in a language, a rule that should be strictly adhered to. Geez.
Kovalam is a fishing hamlet that has a prominent Mosque, and every street seems to have few mosques and temples, also
a church. People seem
to have gone religiously crazy around here, they though looked
contented and healthier lot. For a small town the room rents were quite
steep (500Rs), lots of people seem to visit the mosque. The room even
had a LCD TV (that’s
first time for me), incidentally there weren’t any News channels and
found myself staring at DD News after at least two decade!. Only respite
being there weren’t any obnoxious ads. I am not into New Year
resolutions but yes have decided to reduce drastically my TV watching,
it is quite addictive and really except for rare programs –that has
become repetitive- it isn’t worth the time. Saw India-South Africa one day match for half an hour. Since everything has become so professional that translates to cheap way of making money
in Indian context, i suggest the audience also to become professionals.
Professional audience who should be able to decipher what is real what
is good for them. As much as cricketer can create brand for themselves
at the expense of gullibility of audience- the sacred market model- the
audience need to understand what is being served as sport is no longer
one. If absurd sums of money are offered to mediocre players then it is
with the expectation that we buy what they endorse or be loyal to what
they peddle under emotional guise. It is a small
trick we should have the capacity to see through. Anyway cricket is a
quite a boring (exciting at rare instances) market friendly game, it is
dangerous as it has the capacity to grow onto you and unfortunately has
caught the imagination
of lots of hapless Indians. I think we have reached a stage wherein
children should be cautioned against falling for it, these can be
lifelong affliction that will waste your time that could be used much
productively.
Go out dude go cycling go somewhere, read something do something,
don’t just sit in front of TV. And yes there isn’t anything patriotic
about cricket it is a construct on a ridiculous premise, indeed the
whole idea of patriotism is rather restrictive. Cricket was once a
quaint game that i used to catch up once in a while but last few years i
have been sucked into the lure of entertainment that really isn’t, time
to extricate myself. Though i would suggest few matches a while but
beware of the marketing machine out to grab your attention and money,
indeed they rudely intrude the game, it’s sickening. World has
unfortunately become quite crude and in the marketing game that defines
capitalism audience
are suckers-happy suckers, one might add- professional audience is an
anti thesis that is due. With world cup around (frankly there isn’t much of a world in there) time for GDP and Sensex to hit the roof!!
Very soon i was deep in sleep, gode bech ke so gaya (btw if i had horses i really wouldn’t sell!!).
Phase II: Along the Coromandel Coast
My
next day was expected to be rather relaxed since my
destination-Mamallapuram was about 20Km, not very far if you are
travelling in a vehicle but on a cycle with the speed i was maintaining
it would be ab
out
one and half hour -which really wasn’t much but with stopovers and so
on it could be 2-3hours. I had plans to anchor in Mamallapuram for few
days. Early morning i went to Kovalam (famously also referred to as
Covelong) beach, these beaches are famous for luxury hotels but the area
i was staying was the poorer part. Fishermen were quite active, many
landing with their catch others readying to venture into the seas. It
was terrifying to see the ‘boats’ which was nothing but planks of wood
tied together, detachable motor-propellers could be seen in few. So much
risk they have to take and still the catch isn’t that big. Of all the
jobs in the world marginal fishermen’s occupation is most arduous. I
have seen them from close quarters when i was a kid, it is undoubtedly a
tough life.
Coromandel
Coast that derives from the Cholas has its own significance, it is from
here that Cholas extended their reign to east Asia. Later during 18th
and 19th century Coromandel Coast witnessed power struggles between
colonial European powers like Britain, Portuguese, French, Dutch and
Danes, you could see the vestiges here and there. These coasts are also
home to extensive mangrove forests along the coasts, river deltas and
lakes. These are evergreen forest region that are hosts to variety of
migrating avian species.
Since
there weren’t proper eateries i decided to postpone the breakfast and
started my journey at about 8.00, the intention being to reach the
Madras Crocodile Bank-which opens at 8.30- located at about 5Km in a
leisurely pace and spend few hours exploring the place. It was another
bright charming morning, along the way i could get the glimpse of
shimmering ocean “exhilaration is inland soul going to the sea”
(Dickenson) even cycling along the sea is no less exhilarating.
Casuarinas lined the route and morning chill on a sunny day added to the
charm. I stopped and sat for few minutes to immerse myself in the
surrounding...
Crocodile Bank
was on the left side of the road along the sea, it is hard to miss as
there are barriers kept on the road-i guess to prevent speeding
vehicles- as also few shops. I thought of having the breakfast from a
tea shop across the road. Within few minutes i had gulped four idlis and
coffee (for about 20R), in the meanwhile there was an argument at the
counter. The woman who ran the shop insisted that the fellow have had
his coffee, the fellow who looked quite sleepy (or was he drunk?)
countered with surprising vigour. The woman in turn stared at a man who
was seen packing idlis (presumably he was her husband since she referred
to him as ‘yengo’, a term commonly used around here), as opposed to the
woman the man seem disinclined to speak. He seemed like
i-will-tolerate-everything-silently kind of a guy. She seem to blame him
for the impasse, for not keeping eye on things. She mildly admonished
him but as she reached the kitchen-located inside-her voice grew rather
bold. Meanwhile the man caught me staring at him, he winked.
Crocodile
Park turned out to be surprisingly small and congested place. I was
expecting it to be much bigger and spread across few acres. There are 14
species of crocodiles found in here, frankly i never knew there are so
many species in the first place, indeed there are total of 22! Of course
i knew about Gharials- a gentler species of crocodiles found in Ganges,
but to see the chart of 22species spread across the world was rather
amazing. In India i gather there are only 3species, the ‘muggers’ being
common- there are hundreds of them in the park. Most species weren’t
much visible maybe since it wasn’t hot enough for them to come out for
sun.
Madras
Crocodile Bank was conceptualised by Romulus Whitaker one of the most
eminent conservationist of our times. Known as the ‘Snake Man’ of India,
Whitaker is a 
scientist,
conservationist and a renowned herpetologist. An American by birth,
whose family re-located to India when he was seven, his childhood
fascination with reptiles shaped his destiny. My earliest recollection
of him is on the cover of a book with a hooded cobra, both staring
intently at each other (this pic herein looks recent). Whitaker also
founded the Madras Snake Park and The Andaman and Nicobar Environment
Trust. He is actively involved in Agumbe Rainforest Research Station
which is an extensive habitat of the King Cobra. The primary objective
of Agumbe is to study and conserve the rainforests of South India
utilizing the King Cobra as the flagship species, and around which it is
hoped to have the habitat declared as a sanctuary. In 2005 he was a
winner of a Whitley Award for outstanding leadership in nature
conservation and prestigious Rolex award 2008. Whitaker has been
involved in the publishing of over 100 technical papers. He is also a
noted wildlife documentary filmmaker and author. Phew what a guy!! And
yes i saw that documentary ‘King Cobra’ on TV it was well made (maybe i
am wrong but the groovy background song... was it needed?), also one on
Agumbe about cannibalism in King Cobras though quite gruesome was interesting. Sometime back i had plans to go to Agumbe but it didn’t
work out.
A sign in the premise says “To know the most dangerous animal in the world just open the door”
it opens to a mirror and you look onto yourself! I like that one and
took my picture, a European lady seeing this squealed in laughter “most
dangerous” i said pointing to myself. “Sure sure” she said. Later went
to an enclosure where they showed ‘milking poison from snake’. Since i
was the first one to be in, there wasn’t anyone around, in a shallow pit
where i presumed the demonstration will be done, rows of ominous
looking earthen pots were kept with their lids closed. A fellow came in
from houses across the fence. I asked him whether he was an irula and
what could be the cost of going to the village and seeing the snake
catching and so on. He told me that all the people working here are
irulas. Indeed it was one of the pioneering thoughts of Whitaker to
engage local communities, to harness the traditional skills of the
Irulas positively, accord a dignity to their indigenous knowledge and to
provide them with a means of social and economic upliftment. Irulas are
one of the poorest tribes who sustain themselves by catching snakes and
rats (fumigation technique led to high level of lungs and heart
problem, recently new equipments are being used that reduced these
incidences). They are negrito race and are found mainly in the Tamil
nadu region. In 1978 the Irulas along with Romulus Whitaker sought the
help of the Department of Industries and Commerce to start a self
employment scheme using their traditional knowledge. Thus was born the
Irulas Snake-Catchers Industrial Cooperative Society. Snake handling
facility was constructed at the Croc Bank to maintain snakes for venom
extraction and to market the venom to various laboratories around India.
In addition, Irulas traditional skills together with their knowledge of
indigenous wildlife were promoted as valuable resources for naturalists
and government agencies involved in wildlife work. There is a shop run by Irulas but that seemed to closed.
Irulas have adapted
quite well their snake catching skills (that was once used for its
skin) to milking the venom for medicinal purpose. Two men got busy to
explain about snakes and later they milked common krait as a
demonstration for the audience (by
now a small crowd had gathered), one of the scariest things i have seen.
They showed us four species that account for maximum deaths in India:
Indian cobra, Russells viper, common krait and saw scaled viper. The
hissings left quite an impression, late into the night as i went to the
toilet (one thing about cheap hotels is that light rarely work, even if
does they put zero watt bulb. It always surprises me!!) i thought i
heard one and scampered back to my bed! Venom is extracted from each
snake once a week for four weeks. Snakes are then released at Reserve
Forests nearby. A kid of about 6 or 7 pointed to the snake skin that lay
at the corner and said “the snake has molted”. For a kid of that age to
use a rather technical term correctly was quite a pleasant surprise.
She pointed it to her father-a stern looking man who was busy capturing
the snake in his video, he didn’t listen to her. You are going to have a
tough life kid as long this fool is around.
There
is a plaque in memory of J Vijaya-a young naturalist. It quotes lines
from Green Herbs (tried to find who or what this was in the Net, just
couldn’t...intriguing name) that was quite beautiful
May quit the tiresome sea and dwell on the shore
If not a shelter on the soil at least
To drink wild-water and pluck
I
thought of buying something from the souvenir shop, very soon picked up
an argument with the lady there. Well i preferred grey coloured Tshirt
with a brown color croc pecked by green colored bird (surely i am not
asking for too much here!), they had it in red and yellow (geez what
choice of colours...i had an argument at Cholamandalam too they had
black Tshirts, one should consider climatic conditions or atleast give
choices. Surely that is craft!!). Five lakh visitors visit Croc park
annually so when you sell please see that some care has gone into it. I
loved the miniature Croc on black stone, bought one and would recommend
it to anyone visiting.
I was out o
f Croc Park at about eleven, sun was already smouldering the highway. At two or three Km distance further there was a big banner
advertising show by Sea Lions, i haven’t seen these creatures before
except on TV so decided to drop in but the show was scheduled at 1.30,
quite an odd timing and i wondered who would make it at the middle of
nowhere. In the meantime the fellow explained to me about ‘tricks by sea
lions’ i hope it is legal and animal rights are not violated. All the
while two short people (‘little people’ is politically correct) in mask
surrounded me, they were part of the publicity for the show and waved at
passerby who were too surprised to react. They had a permanent
expression of ‘astound’, indication probably of what to expect from the
show. Two masked people with fixed expression around made me
claustrophobic, i pedaled away as fast i could.
I saw a sight marked by Archaeology Survey of India, and so walked to the beach. It looked like an elephant, part of some Pallava
sculpture. Next to it was Tiger caves. It is beautifully maintained
with green lawns and trees, most pleasing. I stretched myself under the
tree shade, the cool post monsoon breeze from the ocean made it
pleasant. A huge rock was cut into temple with shapes of tigers around. Whoever did it took hell lot of time and effort, and more than th
ousand years back he must have had rudimentary equipment, the fellow must have chiselled all his life.
As a lay down my thought went to the literature i was reading from Theosophical
society the night before, about Annie Besant and so on. As much i like
their intent and activities i am quite seriously put off by the talks on
reincarnation and so on (i guess they could downplay it, it is rather
spooky), i absolutely like to keep these matter in the realm of fiction,
i love movies about reincarnations particularly Hindi one’s about
snakes (there one in which Sunil Dutt acted, then Sridevi and so on), it
is always great fun, not to mention Ramsay horror ‘classics’ that i
always have time for. These mumbo jumbo about Karma-reincarnations- is
elitist conception that is self justifying, they package it to west as
exotic. Not denying that at deeper level it sought to unite all forms of
life, as also being responsible for one's actions. It emphasis that
each action is significant that can reverberate across time and space,
was quite remarkable (ideas, thoughts and actions of great souls have
lived through ages again and again while we read, discuss, think
these...isn’t that enough evidence on karma-reincarnation? What more
evidence you need? Unfortunately people take it rather literally).
These thoughts have created nature of ethics and morality in our
society. Must add ideas of reincarnations have percolated into common
people and most do believe in them (there are instances i have read that
are astounding on these matters). At a functional level these do help
them to negotiate life, face calamities with calmer bearings but
manipulations by elite is where the problem is, they cheapen it to crude
forms of distinctions and so misery. Overall it got reduced to fatalism
and caste.
Why is
that everything-even the most beautiful- find crudest of expressions in
Indian society is more a reflection of nature of elite. So what we have
is few brilliants surrounded by overwhelming mediocre trying suck into
it, there seem to be a system and pecking order in these too. Indeed
they are always in vantage position to see who is emerging from where to
capitalise, market has only institutionalised it-it has provided space
for manipulations. Look at the socio-political elite, look at the way
market find its expression, look how technology gets misused [Radia
tapes are nothing, Crude woman’s life is also a minor glimpse. Sorry if i
am digressing but discussing Crude woman only helps in understanding
the situation, it gives insight to broader issues. This blogger even
have doubts on authenticity of National awards, it’s about fixing the
jury: very soon our friendly choreographer will find his way into jury
at the most opportune moment!... since if you lack popularity route then
get close to government and try to get control on ‘culture’ dole,
create sphere of influence, manipulate. If Radia & Co where keen
on who should become Telecom Minister then it is quite clear that the
section that sucks in the name of Art and Culture must have worked on
who should be I&B Minister] nothing but bunch of self serving
scoundrels. The reason why everything is kept subjective by political
elite is a clear indication of influence of manipulators. It has really
eaten into the system.
A
stray thought: I wonder why wonderful people like Whitaker never
considered for Padma awards, i guess he need to contact some fixers in
Delhi or maybe, and rightly so, like most remarkable people i have read
and come across aren’t bothered about these awards. They are not into
pecking order nor have time for manipulations. But it is a question mark
on the competence of the people who give these awards.
I had slept for half an hour or so, found myself burning under the sun, the shade had shifted. A dog snoozed few feet away from 
me,
he doesn’t seem to mind my presence after a short glance went back to
his dream world. I try to wake him with an offer of imaginary food but
he refuse to condescend. Soon i was heading to Mamallapuram, i saw stone
statues and workers busy working on them as approached the town.
Stopped at one place and the fellow explained that the form of statues
he was sculpting- is referred to as karakku style, wherein the emphasis was on flow-the waves, the creepers. The pic is that of one from a typical shop i was passing by.
Mamallapuram beckons 
By
noon i was at Mamallapuram, also known as Mahabalipuram. A temple town
famous for rock temples that were created by Pallava Dynasty who ruled
this region around 7th century. Pallavas were mighty rulers and this region used to be an important port. Incidentally Bodhidharma the founder of Chan Buddhism which later became Zen Buddhism in Japan was most likely a Pallava prince.
I
was looking for cheaper accommodation; the fellow quoted a higher
price. I told him “that price is meant for people who carry dollar, you
tell me the Indian price. I am not a rich man”. Well when it comes to mo
ney
i am very straight in dealing, never be ambiguous on these matters is
my policy. The man who was showing some respect shifted his attitude
towards me, he turned condescending even mocking “ayo cyclil thaan vandriku”. I kept a straight face, he realised it’s not working. Instead of showing me the top floor rooms which were mostly occupied by foreigners, he took me to ground floor rooms that were dark and damp. Most rooms seemed to be occupied by couples looking for “quickie”, it is likely the fellow charged the room on hourly basis (atleast that’s what i eavesdropped). I absolutely have no problems with these but for godsake why put used condoms
under the bedding (it sickens me). I generally carry my bedsheets and
pillow cover-and a bottle of dettol, so i am quite equipped to handle
these. Also carry mosquito mats, must say mosquitoes of Tamil Nadu are
persistent lot that have even worked out the secret of repellents-it
seems to have no effect. They were happily buzzing around my ears all
through night, adeptly avoiding my attempts to smash them. The more I missed more I ended up slapping myself, once i was even startled out of sleep, for a moment i thought i was at school getting another tight one from the woman who called herself
teacher and i staring at her navel all through the ordeal. Mosquitoes
have made a nut of atleast one more man; it was reported in the news
that a burglar was caught. Now you might think what is new about this? Well our man apart from stealing money and jewellery from the houses had a
penchant for mosquito repellent. The fellow stole mosquito mats along
with valuables from whichever house he burgled!! That was his undoing
it made the job of cops relatively easy as he was linked to all the
crimes where repellents went missing, he confessed. I am reminded of a
scene from Rajnikant movie ‘Endhiran’ where mosquitoes were asked to apologise, it is no laughing matter.
Since it was happy mix of festive and foreign tourist season there were cultural programs organised, dancers from all over the country performed on the stage that was aesthetically done with rock carving of Arj
una’s
penance as back ground. Saw this blond woman who i thought was enjoying
the dance and song that she hit her thighs often, soon realised she was trying to keep the mosquitoes away. Geez it’s the mosquitoes again. Went for fish curry rice dinner, the restaurant turned out to be run by malayalee. Few foreigners turned up and explained that they want to see
real Indian food, the one that was not served at posh hotel they were
staying (it is called “experience”). The malayalee added many yah yahs
while he spoke, the foreigners looked
at the menu keenly and left without eating. The malayalee fellow was
understandably furious and told another of his countryman “evidunna vanada evirekke. Chettagallu”. The other fellow said mockingly maybe they eat pig. When malayalees speak i find it difficult to keep quiet. I informed them that pig is referred to as ham. “Haammo” he laughed loudly, i found him still smiling as i was leaving.
Early
next morning much before the sunrise i was at the rock temple, i wanted
to take the picture of the temple with rising sun as background, after initial threat of clouds the pictures came out quite well. These temples were redone after it was damag
ed in cyclone decades back. Later cycled around the place and went to other temples. Many of the carvings are exquisite. The pair of antelopes
at Arjuna’s penance impressed Mrs Indira Gandhi so much that it was put
on currency notes, they are incredibly beautiful. What makes it
charming is the way the creature is rubbing its nose, it is almost alive. The artisans were not only talented but had their sense of humour
intact. On the bottom corner a replica of the way Arjuna was doing his
penance was recreated except that this time instead of Arjuna it was
full bellied cat surrounded by gullible rats. Beware of false saints
being the message. The baby elephants are so very delicate. At one
corner a saint was giving sermons to headless students, a woman asked
the guide what happened to the heads. The fellow said
it was ‘destroyed by Muslims’. I was shocked to hear this, the man was
giving wrong information, that is not how it is. Atleast from what i
know the saint cursed the students for their ignorance and wayward ways which as the story goes exploded their heads. There should be strict training for guides, unauthorised ones shouldn’t be allowed.
All
these created on a rock was most amazing, what made it remarkable was
the delicate and deft handling needed since if you give one wrong chisel
everything could go wrong. Surely these artists spend their lifetime creating these beauties. These sculptors and temples are considered as early form of Dravidian art 
that was to blossom to its peak during the later Cholas. By noon i was observing Mahishasura mardana. A boy in late teens saw the bull headed human and said it is a matador, his elder brother said in an American accent “no man it’s a greek god”. Their parent laughed and his mother clarified in what sounded like alien Tamil “what da what you are talking these are Hindu gods. This is narasimha avatar da”. Their father was seen hugging and clutching the boys. It seemed like small happy family out
for quality time. Happy family all right but their dimwit conversation
got hold of me. I said rather loudly staring at the sculpt that it is
mahishasura, “Narasimha means nara that is man, simha that is lion and i don’t see any lion here”.
I couldn’t control my sarcasm, it came out of irritation, the family
went silent and observed me keenly. I looked away and saw a Coucal
sneaking across the bush and decided to pursue it.
Next day i was at Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary, there is no direct bus so you have to go to Chengalpetu (takes about an hour) and fro
m there it is another hour, buses are not very frequent. Vedanthangal is the oldest bird sanctuary in the country, steps were taken as early as 1798- with much insistence from local community- and by 1858 it was fully established.
Variety of water birds and storks could be seen on trees and bushes
dotting the lake, visitors can walk about half a Km stretch, there is a
watch tower with a binocular. It is
difficult to take photographs though i did see lots of people carrying
fancy cameras. It is a popular tourist spot for people from Chennai. Had to wait for the bus for an hour so, the boy at the shop was keen on my camera, and asked me how it works. I thought he was a precocious kid, observant and inquisitive but rarely smiled, he got me concerned that one.
Phase III : Towards Matrimandir
I started from Mamallapuram much before
the sunrise, my destination was Marakkanam located at about 70Kms.
intention being to cover the distance by noon and anchor for the night.
Some search in the Net as also talking to people suggested possibilities
of lodges at Marakkanam. Thought of going parallel to ECR along the
backwaters but again ended up at a dead end, this time vowed to firmly
stick to ECR from now on. Sadras had some colonial Dutch forts that I
was keen to visit but somehow missed it and by the time realised it i
was at Kalpakkam. Kalpakkam of
course is the town that has Nuclear power plant, the fast breeder
Nuclear reactor-the one that uses Thorium. Thorium is obtained from
Monazite sand something that is found in abundance along the beaches of
Kerala, specifically Kollam. A place i have spent some time when i was kid, I recall many decades back while i was walking along the coast of Kollam i had this black coloured
sand sticking to my leg, i was told it is monazite sand from which
thorium is extracted. This sand is also rich in ilmenite that contains
Titanium. Much later while i was doing a project at Titanium Factory i
saw these black sand being converted into talcum powder! It was an
amazing experience. Incidentally studies along these coastal regions
have not been able to establish any definite link between cancer and
Monazite.
Track from Mamallapuram
to Puducherry is quite popular among bikers and cyclists. A British
couple overtook me (could make out from the accent as they wished me),
they were in full cycle gear and customary helmet. The cycle must have
cost a fortune, they had bags carefully balanced on back carrier. Their
pedalling synchronised as if floating like a pair of cranes
within moment they were out of my sight. As pleasing the sight maybe i
wonder why couldn’t they use treadmill at home! I came across a shallow
lake along the sea and saw some fishermen wade the knee deep water spreading their net, stopped to watch their catch. These lines from the poem The Coromandel Fishers by Sarojini Naidu (more about Sarojini Naidu at iseeebirds.blogspot.com)
Rise, brothers, rise! The wakening sky
pray to the morning light.
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn
like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore
and set our catamarans free,
To capture leaping wealth of the tide
for we are the kings of the sea!
Watching
the catch by the fishermen returning from deep sea early morning is
something i always do whenever i am around the coast, to
see the variety of fishes and trying to identify, indeed i used to
spend hours walking around the Chinese fishing nets in Fortkochi, every
time they pulled the net i would be the first few to check out the
fishes. Must say the catch have dwindled quite significantly in recent times. Since Chinese fishing nets are also a tourist attraction this
blogger thinks that the government should extend help to these
fishermen to maintain these nets. Indeed Kochi is known for Chinese
nets, a gargantuan conception that was introduced by Chinese
traveller ZhengHe in fifteenth century. ZhengHe is an interesting
character, he was captured by Ming invaders when he was just eleven and
made into eunuch, he rose to become the trusted aid of the emperor and
was appointed to lead voyages. He is believed to have died along the
Malabar Coast.
Along the way i saw atleast five snakes crushed under speeding vehicles, even an owl-that really was a surprise: how did that happen? I
t got me thinking. My conclusion was t
hat the unfortunate bird might have broken its wing or got immobilised in some
way and landed straight on the road most likely at night. Another
theory was the bird was already dead while it landed on the road since
even with broken wing it would have struggled away. Sight of crows pecking the crushed mass was gruesome. The route was mostly isolated with occasional vehicles, the morning after a major festival is generally rather quieter this has been my experience all these years. And yesterday was Pongal festival, one of the most auspicious day for tamilians. Forgot to mention that just outside Mamallapuram i came across a village that proclaimed itself as “Sweety and Lovely village” in English, must be expressing their disappointment and showing that they aren’t behind compared to a nearby village that was declared as ‘tourist village’ and so foreign tourists were herded to experience the countryside.
During pongal there were big celebrations specifically meant for
foreigners. Some years back i happen to attend one near Madurai.
Few
children waved one boy asked “what is your name?” in English, i found
that question puzzling. Why would a kid like to know my name? Then tried
to put myself in the kid’s shoes and presto the revelation: he was
trying to work out his English (most likely he mistook me as some elite guy who generally converse in english). I w
ould do the same at that age!! Much further I realised i had a puncture, fortunately for me a village was nearby. The repair shop also sold framed pictures of god. There were too many of them in varying size hanging the shack. The old man took his job seriously and with his thin dextrous fingers repaired it in few minutes. It seemed he was affected by hundreds of eyes staring from the frames. I accosted a man “which village was this?” though i was at an audible distance he preferred to shout back “Kuvathur”, ironic since kuv means
shout!! Soon i was back on the main road, a gang of bikers sped at a
very high speed later followed by thundering of dozen bullet bikes.
Quite a sight that one, bullet bikes always remind me of my childhood
when during army celebration a must show was acrobats on these bikes by
‘uncles from signals’, I recall a boy whose father was a member of this
team, he used to be very proud and boast about his father being more
powerful than hanuman! It is only when you are travelling in cycle you
realise how fast these vehicles are and how marvellous these inventions.
How much convenient they have made our life. The IC engines, the Carnot
cycle-the PV and TS diagrams, the adiabatic compressions and isothermal
expansions, i had mugged up these so many times before exams without realising their significance. It is now I realise how beautiful these theories are. What amazing conceptions, it is humbling.
I stopped to have many tender
coconuts along the way and skipped the breakfast. Kanchipuram district
is demarcated from Villipuram by a lake that extend to the ocean, as
soon as you cross this lake the terrain changes to shrubby and hotter.
It’s a region marked by sparse vegetations and isolated stretches, that
it was mid noon added to the discomfort. Soon i realised i am not
enjoying the ride and was getting annoyed. People do put themselves in
disco
mforting
situation voluntarily, i was thinking of stampede deaths at Shabrimala
the day before. But people do it for gratification from god or later
gains mine didn’t seem to be falling into any category, that got me
concerned. Actions need to have justification is it not? But i guess
these never occurred to me, and sometimes create uniquely difficult
situations for myself. I have been in such situation many
times before! As i was thinking these i saw acres and acres of land
stretched on one side of the road that were filled with shallow water,
it shimmered in noon sun and could make out few men at work, about half
an hour later i was in their vicinity. I approached them on foot. They were making salt, there are few ways to manufacture salt this one
was by drying sea water. The man (forgot his name) said that their work
was similar to farmers “farmer produce vegetable we produce salt. But
there is a difference farmer need rain, for us rain is catastrophe”
(translated from Tamil). This one
cultivation that needs harsh sun and no rain! Even now what is supposed
to be winter the temperature was more than 35*C, in summer i am told it
reaches about 50. My god what a tough job. Incidentally India is the
third largest producer of salt, bulk of which is from Gujarat. This process of salt production is also referred to as ‘solar salt’ and is being practised from ancient times.
Marakkanam was about five Kms away, unfortunately for me there weren’t any place to stay. There is a government guest house
that wasn’t open to public. I decided to cool myself and sat next to a
shop and had ‘colour’-sweet carbonated drink that cost 5R. Found myself
conversing with a man, as i talked to him i came to 
know
that he too worked in salt pit. His name was Pakri and seemed to have
come in terms with his harsh realities. He said he gets 180R per day.
For a gruelling days work under the harsh sun this was too paltry. He
said he doesn’t have any choices furthermore his expense are also less
so manages it quite well. He was fascinated by my camera, and was
excited about pictures of birds and could identify most of them in
Tamil. That i thought was remarkable. I spent about an hour talking
about odd things mostly he was keen to know what i do, he seemed to have
an open mind about things. He thought keralaites are adventurous
lot-well i have reservation on that. As i was leaving he told me to
“travel a lot that is best thing to do”. Suddenly i realised how
immensely lucky i was. There weren’t too many eateries around and those
present were all closed except a small one next to the highway, hygiene
was a concern but what the heck i was famished and could eat a truck.
Food was really bad, couldn’t manage and decided to give up. But since
people were found enjoying the food and i had already become an oddity i
decided to pretend i am eating all the while dropped it to a rather excited dog under the table.
Puducherry
was still about 30Kms away. I must mention that much before Marakkanam
there is a small town that has moghul fort, i guess it is till here that
Moghul rule extended, most likely led by Malik Kafur- a hindu convert.
Someone mentioned that next to the fort there was a place to stay, so
took a diversion for about three Km and found that it was a well
furnished house and they only rent
to actors and ‘famous people’ who come for shooting. Since i wasn’t both
i cannot have it, anyway there wasn’t any need for them to mention all
these the lodging was beyond my budget. But the best part was i found a
small rather cozy alley surrounded by trees and shrubs. I sat under a
tree for some time, and tried to take pictures of a very shy brown
barbet. Further down some children were playing cricket under hot sun
and it seems were short of a player, they insisted i should join. Found
that extremely amusing, any other day i would have joined but this was
getting bit sultry and i had to reach Puducherry or will be stranded on
the highway that i realised didn’t have street lights. All
through the route saw umpteen number of one room churches, being Sunday
the mass was in full swing-louder the better being the motto.
Two
mosques stood facing each other and the road went through it, followed
by rows of double storey houses that were painted in bright colours. The
toll roads exempt cycles, there was a mention of need for creating eco
friendly surroundings. But must say highways aren’t traveller friendly
at all, they seem meant only for fast moving vehicles. There isn’t any
space for stopping; many
accidents are reported as people park their vehicle on sideways or if
there is a breakdown. I was watching this TV programs on car chase
videos the other day (the one where cops chase over speeding or stolen
vehicles and then pass it as entertainment for TV audience...it’s a
cottage industry in US) and found that there is something called
‘service lane’. If not service lane atleast some space for people to
park and stretch themselves. Few centuries back roads were 
sensitive
to the needs of travellers there were trees to provide shade, sheds to
relax. With increasing speeds of vehicles- that reduces surroundings as
objects, highways have become impersonal. I happen to see many families
stop their car to spread out for lunch and so on, wherever they could
find space. Car manufactures are smarter lot but don’t know whether they
have thought of introducing some design innovation to include
converting the rear part into table and so on! It isn’t a funny matter
many families use car (the lower end smaller ones) for travelling and
picnic. Saw few middle aged men drinking liquor inside the car. I don’t
believe these people, why would anyone drink and drive knowing fully
well that their chance of survivalability is rather low. I do drink once
in a while maybe on Saturdays that too very occasionally- a peg or two,
but not very keen on these matter. I think most people don’t like these
things in the first instance it’s the company you keep. I have tried
all that could be tried...even drugs and found absolutely no fun, it’s
quite dumb these things. Though i strongly suggest brandy with pepper in
hot water for any ailment. It works miracles, don’t waste your money on
doctors. Red wine and kerala Kallu (with kappa meen) top my list.
On
the way i saw posters of politicians, i guess Tamil Nadu is warming up
to forthcoming elections much earnestly. Mr. Chidambaram’s face in many
of the posters made me smile, he looked a cross between amul baby and
hema malini with ominously coloured blood red lips and an extra dose of
mascara, the effect was hilarious. Don’t know how much will these
influence voters!
By
about five i was at Puducherry and had cycled almost 100Kms, something
didn’t intend to. Auroville is like a home to me, this being tourist
season i didn’t go to the ashram cottages expecting it to be full. After
a quick bath went out for fish and rice curry. I need to mention here a
thing or two about fish curry. For last many years i have been not
exactly ‘Following Fish’ but yes Fish curry!! I have become quite an
expert. Fried fish in potato gravy of Bengal, a rather pungent tasty
mustard paste based fish curry of Orissa, tamarind flavoured succulent
fish along Telangana, a simple coconut milk laced
Mangalorean fare, spicy Kudumpulli fish curry of Travancore as also Raw
mango flavoured ones of Kochi, fish moilees along kottayam, peppery
Chettinadu fish curry, tomato fenugreek seeds filled kuzhambu fish
curries of Chennai-a kind of thickened rasam, Goan style fish floating
in thick tomato gravy.... have tasted all. Only area left is coastal
Maharashtra-the Ratnagiri side. Don’t know whether coastal Gujarat is
known for fish delicacies. Though i avoid fishes when i am in the
interior part of the country nor prefer river fish neither fish fries
but yes i do recommend Amritsari fish fry-it’s quite chatpata, as also
fish fingers from carts of Pondicherry streets! And yes I also strongly
recommend parsi Patra fish-steamed in green chutney, i do try to work it
out in my kitchen once in a while. Fish is a serious part of my diet,
and do spend a fortune. Though i prefer Pearl spot (karimeen) and
Salmon, Sardine and Tuna are cheap and best. When housewives in small
towns of Kerala meet they don’t ask how are you they ask what was the fish today!!
Despite
strong presence of French for centuries fish curry around Puducherry
has not even the trace of the much famous French culinary influence.
Clearly people don’t like their food bland there are limits of accepting
things and when it comes to food the lines are clear. I was reading “Following Fish”
there is a mention on these lines about fish curries around the town of
Tuticudi (Tuticorin) that once was a Portuguese colony “Puzzlingly, throug
hout
the Portuguese presence on this stretch of Tamil nadu, its cuisine
remained as untouched as its religion stood transformed. I came across
no Portuguese influences in my meals in Tuticorin and its neighbouring
villages, but, thinking, I’d missed something or simply eaten in all the
wrong places, i later sought the wisdom of Jacob Aruni, a food
consultant and researcher in Chennai. ‘its true, and it’s a mystery,’
Aruni said. ‘In Goa, for instance, the use of cinnamon, garlic and wine
in food caught on from Portuguese. But in the coastal area around
Tuticorin, they still use salt, tamarind and coconut more dominantly-the
ingredients they were using even before the Portuguese arrived.’”.
I think there cannot be two views on this: curry should be spicy, and
is meant to blast in your mouth and open up senses. That is food and it
better be that way. Europeans can take a break.
Samanth
Subramanian-the author of the book, must say hardly a name i would
associate with someone writing about fishes! But yes it is a well
written book and I strongly suggest. Though lines like “we were not in
Kansas anymore” seemed to be meant deliberately for
international audience, obviously I cannot be against these but just
couldn’t get the joke. I have seen enough western movies to understand
“last chance saloon”, thought it was quite hilarious and apt description
of toddy shops around Kumrakum, some are in middle of paddy field.
There though is a correction needed: Kokum is not same Kudampuli,
there is a mistake here. Even reputed recipe books tend to make this
mistake, i think it is time to clear this once forever. Kudampuli or
Malabar Tamarind also called Gambooge
in English (Garcinia cambogia) is a small round orange like fruit that
when dried becomes dark. These are used in ayurveda quite extensively.
For culinary purpose except for keralites these find favor with Coorgis
(where it is referred to as Kachampuli), and nowhere else as of my
knowledge. While Kokum (Garcinia Indica) is obtained from a fruit tree
endemic to Western Ghats, the outer cover of the fruit when dried is
referred to as Kokum. They too have wide medicinal and cosmetic use.
They are popular as drinks-a darkish red colored sweetened in water,
also used as substitute for tamarind in Konkan –Maharashtra even Gujarat
region. I guess it is also used in Rogan Josh from Kashmiri wazwan.
Kokum and Kudampuli therefore are NOT same and cannot even substitute
each other (ask me i made that mistake once while in delhi where getting
Kudampuli was a task). They don’t look similar, the texture smell are world apart. Kokum gives a sour taste and exudes red color when put in water, while Kudampuli is acidic and much bitter gives faint brown color.
Puducherry
beach is a pleasing place to be in, towards the south part of the beach
the French influence is apparent and posh while the other part buzzing
with life. I recommend fish curry rice at Aristos,
though the service is bit tardy and chaotic the food-fish curry rice-
is tasty and filling. Better would be to get it parceled since the place
does get crowded, eating in relaxed ambience is what i prefer but
rarely get the opportunity. It is sad to note that Indian Coffee House
has closed down and moved to much smaller basement.
Next day i was up and cycling Auroville
,
the auroville bakery is my favourite, had raisin croissant and mug of
hot coffee. Auroville is an agreeable place, started in 1968 as a
settlement- a universal town, where men and women of all countries are
able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds,
politics and nationalities. Founded by Mirra Alfassa (since referred to
as The Mother) as a project of Aurobindo society, the ideals endorsed by
Government of India as also UNESCO. Mother gave Auroville its 4-point
charter setting forth her vision of Integral living:
1.
Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to
humanity as a whole. But to live in Auroville, one must be the willing
servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
3.
Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future.
Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within,
Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual Human Unity.
Miira Alfassa or Mother (1878-1973) was born in Paris. She came to Puducherry and founded Auro
bindo ashram (Aurobindo was an interesting man, a revolutionary who turned into spiritualism...more about him in iseeebirds.blogspot.com), she was immensely respected by people around. I went to Matrimandir (Mother’s Temple), soil from 124 countries are placed in lotus shaped urn here.
It is a place meant for mediation. Sat for few minutes. That officially
ended my journey. Though it was meant to be from Chennai to Puducherry
but somehow became Banyan tree at Theosophical society to Matrimandir at
Auroville. It connected Annie Besant and Miira Alfassa, two remarkable
European women who chose to settle in India. If I had cycled further
towards Tutikudi i wonder what else i would have discovered...maybe some
other time.
I leave with these words from The Mother that i read at the reception
A dream
There should be
somewhere on earth
a place which no nation
could claim as its own,
where all human beings
of good will who have
a sincere aspiration,
could live freely as
citizens of the world and
obey one single authority,
that of supreme truth;
a place of peace
concord and harmony...
