Trip to Heavens via Kodachadri

Both my hands were rock steady holding onto the thunderbird’s handle..I could feel that my heart was beating to the tunes of the Dhug dhug sound coming out of the silencer..a drizzle was trying to mask my razor sharp view of the road ahead through the helmet glass..the jacket did not offer that much fight to the strong chill air..and as the right leg moved away from the brakes and the left leg ensured we were in top gear, the bullet zoomed past just like the hungry tiger which jumped from its soft hidden silent moves into a sudden rush of ferocious speed to hunt its prey. The more faster the tiger moved, the more rhythmic the travel felt. The highway turned and swirled like the curves of a beautiful woman and slowly I felt a yogic pleasure being part of the nature’s simplest pure joy around me., The trees zoomed past both sides of my eyes, the far away hill seemed to be coming closer by the second, the lust green paddy fields on either side made way for thick bunch of trees and returned again to remind me the bright green display of mother nature..and as the drizzle grew faster..and the bike moved steady and I felt that the wind was slowly washing away sad things from my mind one after the other..

This is exactly what I had signed for when I knew a ride for 900kms and a climb up in the mountain terrains of Kodachadri for 10 miles, I knew this could be a trip to heavens. The curiosity was to know if the heavens did exist and if I had the chosen the right path. How wrong can you be, when you know the trip has been planned through some of the meticulous minds and in between the four walls with a vent pumping artificial air and fingers running through the endless tabs and columns. It was a chance to break free from the clutches of the routine. It was a chance to find your solitude with the creator. It was to a destination visited by people who saw god in oneself and who saw self in others. If not anything, I thought the hard trek will help reduce a bit of flab around the tummy atleast.

With Praveen leading the meticulous execution of Prashanth ‘s sealed and signed itinerary, chances of delay were very slim. But we still managed to exhaust the one hour buffer created by Harish under the ever watching eyes of huddle room meeting members. Kamat at Sira was the logical step because, anything later than that, we would have personally felt the pain of starvation which Shankaracharya must have felt on the first day of his meditation on top of the Kodachadri mountains. Idli’s and rava dosa’s are the siblings of angels when one is hungry. They make you lively and change you to become a better person than when you are hungry. As we left Shimoga after our lunch, the discussion was still not spiritual. Especially with Yedi’s cement roads and award winning bus depots haunting us till we gulped some masala puri at Nagara.

The drive with the sun ready to set, with mountain chill air ensuring you thank your helmet and other ammunition you were wearing, the mind started to get a first feel of what life is. Not until Sunderesh sang our favorite song of the land, did we realize we were really away from the hustle and bustle of Bangalore..that we were finally breathing the air which we were given by our creator and not the admin, that we were seeing lakes and rivers and the villages which form the heart of our nation., when we saw the terrain morph itself into a rich green lush bed that we eventually will be part of.

Rested for the night was spent in the warmth of the old couple who served us delicious veg food with as much fondness as I have for my kids, with the once-a-year village troop trying hard to hold onto to the rich heritage of yakshagana in their own way, with the holy spirit which brought the team much closer and with bismillah khan’s kitchen which reemphasized that life is fun with spices, variety and a bit of both worlds.

If 10 hour journey, the euphoria of savories, and unbelievable fun and bonding spilled over by holy spirit couldn’t tire us to rush to the beds, chances of a army of village youth with guns and red bands across their heads were not going to make us sleep early. It was the mandatory ritual of loud dumb charades that finally made us realize that we should rest the only two legs we have for the next day, for they will be doing all the talking.

With everyone else enjoying the backwaters of the dam and waiting for the sunrise with shirtless holy dips, I took the two kids, who woke up before the dawn and were ready to ride along the mountain for 10 miles to watch the sunrise. When we three sat at the edge of the cliff, I was more eager to see their innocent faces, with some kind of expectation about the sun that would rise that day and they firmly believed that it was going to be different. Not every day you wake up to see the sunrise at home and go to your terrace and if you have come really so long, there ought to be something different.

And it was., for it was magical. The sun started painting the horizon to begin with and later just showered his gentle rays on the cute faces of the two gentle boys with me. There was a shout of joy from them and as they jumped around not knowing how else to enjoy a beautiful looking sky, I joined them to live their life. To be that kid who can enjoy the simplest joy’s to the fullest. With no fear of people watching or judging you, to leave behind all inhibitions, to be truthful to yourself and to react in completeness. The jumping around went onto a longer time than I would prefer to, courtesy a pack of biscuits and a glass of milk we three had on our way to this cliff.

When we got dropped to the same place in a bigger van with lesser luggage, sun was sharper and was not so mild like he was a couple of hours ago., but the enthusiasm and the eagerness was visible in all 40 eyes. Some rushed in their way..some nudged along leisurely and some walked with love in the air. Jumping over the small streams, balancing your ankles in a heap of stones, with one eye following the person in front of you and the other eye on the shoe where there were many slowly climbing leeches , we moved along. The moment came finally for me and my partner, when we realized that we had let go the trail and were too focused to not see the diversion and we kept conquering. The mountain became steeper, the footmarks started to evaporate, the bushes and trees came closer and then the thick dense wild forest because claustrophobic.  The true nature of a person, they say, comes out when he is in danger and difficulty. Being stranded inside a god forsaken jungle with no response to your constant screaming can be scary. Especially when you know, a small stop can cause loss of blood and a chance to see a full blown leech becoming your sibling and sharing the same blood group.

Romantic and Eternal Optimist .These are two things that has made me what I am and I was lost along with a person who has taught me these from the beginning. Instead of being claustrophobic, we choose to be optimistic. For we knew, there will be someone who will be running backwards for us. I could have even predicted the time he would take to reach us, but he beat me to that. From a far away down the hill, I heard the shout and then we responded. The voice became closer and closer and finally I felt, what friendship forever means. It is not about egoistic. It is never measured. It is never repaid. It is never how much one does and how much the other does. It’s simply to be there all the time. By just being there, friendship makes this life more joyful and helps to see the goodness of this world. I would have gone on and on, if he had not said, I will not come back again if you guys lose againJ

Bhattru milk did help us all feel more rejuvenated and the spelling mistake is intentional. As we crossed the easier path of the paddy fields to enter into the jungle, it was seemingly all easy. But is it ever easy to find the heavens and gods. There was some catch somewhere. And as predicted, the walk got tougher and more vertical. Suddenly the bag on your back was heavier, the sweat on the forehead more profuse and stick in your right-hand became the third leg. There is a reason why temples have a small kalyani where you wash your dirt before stepping into the holy stones before you go closer to the almighty statue. The intention is to cleanse oneself. Likewise, in our quest to see the heavens, the fast gushing mountain wind during the bullet ride had ensured that I had lost my false egos, sadness, craving and attachment to the things that are ever changing. But as if the gods decided it wasn’t enough, he produced a ferocious and powerful waterfall in the middle of the jungle. As I bent with humbleness to the mother nature and offered myself on her feet, the water hit me with a pain I could only associate with my third standard mathematic sir’s bamboo stick mark on my virgin bum. This time, I didn’t cry with red eyes like I did when Anil sir used to hit me, but I fell much more grounded. I felt small or actually tiny. I was fast losing my false needs. I was being washed away from the sins I had done so far. I was being liberated from the hurt I have caused to many in my life. I was feeling lighter. More relaxed. I felt the punishment was just and the body felt clean. It felt cheerful  although only after the bowl of veg pulav which went just fine with the spicy curds.

As the guide climbed up the hill holding the roots of the trees which started above our heads with ease, I felt this trek is the most vertical climb I have done so far. But the destination was our destiny today. For we had come seeking for it. Nothing, not even the slippery rocks, the leeches filled bushes nor the risk of losing your life with one wrong step would stop us today. The climb was relentless, the obstacles of nature were never identical, the way forward was getting harder and the pace was slower. Then the rain gods unleashed their fury upon us. The optimists among us thanked for the water from above and the tired souls thanked that it didn’t pour earlier.

After the longest one hour walk we ever did in our lives, the gods were pleased. They offered us into their homes. They welcomed us into their courtyard. A magical sight of lush green grass filled mountains and you feel blessed to be part of this place, this earth and this life. When I turned back, I saw how far I had climbed up. How hard it was back down there. How difficult it was to reach where I was standing. Wasn’t it the lesson god taught me in a matter of a couple of hours. Was this not all it is in reality ? Isn’t there always a silver lining around the corner. Isn’t pain a better way to experience when you accept it with all humbleness. Isn’t it better to let go all ego and all false expectations. Was not life supposed to be simple and happy. Are we not part of this journey only for a tiny time here. There was this earth always like this and will remain always like it is. Do I matter at all in this big grand existence ? Aren’t the troubles we face in our life tiny in real sense.

When finally the last mile was staring in front of us, almost all of us had our tales to tell. We all had lived a day to tell our friends and well wishers back home. There was just another last mile to conquer.  And then as we climbed towards the Peeta or the highest point where the divine lived and seekers meditated and philosophers found their homes back in golden age,  we saw the mountains and clouds below us. As we walked carefully at the edge of the topmost mountain, we felt we were up in the heavens finally. At the doorstep. The material world was way below us. Up in a distant was civilization. Even the clouds and the hill tops that seemed huge from the homes, were now below us. It was so unreal. And then the decision to stop and relax and watch the incredible view that was unfolding. When the romance of life entered you all over again. This time it was mystic and magical at the same time. It was a feeling of togetherness despite being lonely. It was exactly the thing I had climbed and walked so far. It was an voice finally telling me closures are not important in life. The destination doesn’t matter for the journey has to be worth it. There is no happiness if you do not stop, look where you are and then ask yourself, are you not already there ? It is something I will ask all my life, everyday. Am I not already there yet and am I walking and running too fast, without realizing I didn’t stop in time to realize I had got what I started out for.

The third day was being played as the action replay of the first day and in the reverse direction. Everything now made more sense. I was calm with myself. I was cleansed and blessed. I was at peace with myself and my sins. I had experienced the creator in its original avatar. I knew I was tiny in this world. Ego finally removed. Craving for things which are ever changing were chopped off.

As I was riding the bullet back to Bangalore with 110 miles an hour , I was telling myself , that there would be no reason to crave for the happier yesterdays… there was no reason to crave for better unseen future.. there was no way I will falter my present, for there is a reason it is called present. I will find myself in everyone that I interact, because everything that’s happening is too tiny anyways to bother, and it is better to be beyond all these small irritations of life. Suddenly, I heard a policeman shouting at me. Apparently  the chief justice of Karnataka High court was in a car with red light on and the police jeep in front wanted the road to be clear for him to rip at breakneck speed and anybody who didn’t give way in a split second of spotting the convoy was being hurled abuses at. A small incident destroyed my three days of unison with gods and heavens and life’s niceties. I was furious about the administration, the corruption, the separation of classes and the rich and the poor and the power and powerless. I was becoming normal again. And then I came home, exactly the way I was when I had left home.