Kumittipathi : A peep into the past

For those who are game for some adventure, writes Anima Balakrishnan

WHERE LEGENDS UNFOLD The entrance to the Neolithic cave - Photo:K.Ananthan

It was not a great day to embark on your first RLT. The monsoon had unleashed itself on neighbouring Kerala and my RLT destination, Kumittipathi, is a mere four kilometres from the Kerala border.

Our guide, ARK Arun is a fossil expert. Kumittipathi, the fossil man vouches, is home to Neolithic paintings that are more than 5,000 years old. If you thought RLTs are about obscure places tucked aeons away from civilisation, this one is different. A mere 30 km from Coimbatore, the place haunts you with its deathly stillness but has an inherent capacity to surprise you.

As you drive down NH 47 towards Palakkad, clouds darken and the air gets heavier past the Western Ghats. As we steer off the main road, temperatures drop and the scenery dotted with over-grown palm trees takes over. A town appears before you from nowhere. It's Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is just couple of kilometres away. A serpentine road takes you past tiny settlements and stone quarries, and legends unfold. Table-like stone structures, Sumai Thangikal, erected in memory of women who died during childbirth rest on the roadside. The road gets progressively slender and the ride bumpier.

Squeezing past bowing shrubs, the car climbs over a languorously spread rock and the outcrop housing the caves presents itself majestically. As the rain beats down hard, we leave our phones and watches behind and I take my first close look at the mammoth rock, which sits like a grey-brown slouching monster with a quaint sense of adventure.

Uphill task

We begin our climb and Nature decides to be a little unkind. The skies open up with all fury and with no coats or caps, the slippery climb gets a little tricky. We lumber behind the fossil man, treading over dicey, bald rock with great care. After a climb of nearly 30-foot, a huge oval mouth, around 20-foot wide opens in front of you. There it is, the granite formation in rock, pregnant with more than 3,000 million years of history and waiting to unfold its story. At the entrance are the Neolithic works, called the petrographs, of a peacock, a tree, an elephant and other geometric figures, assumed to be more than 5,000 years old. They fight for space with new-age artistic creations in chalk and paint. Walk into the ten-foot deep dark cave and pieces of broken glass and match-sticks carpet the slushy floor.

A petrograph.

Those game for a little adventure will find the climb to the temple at the top of the 300-foot outcrop interesting. Erratically arranged stone steps wind up and suddenly disappear from view. Arun assures us that the climb is not too tough and being in a mood for some adventure, I agree. But as you go half way up, the steps vanish and you are at the mercy of thinly carved footrests on the sloping, slimy rock.

You move ahead, one step at a time and tend to miss more than a breath. The rain lashing down your back doesn't make it any easier. After an eternity, you are at the very top, before the Baladandayudhapaani temple. Neatly margined paddy fields stretch across as far as you can see and the Ghats covered in mist unravel like a dark giant.

How to get there

Drive down the Palakkad highway, past Madukkarai till you reach the signboard for Nehru College on the left. Turn there and drive down the main road to reach Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is two kilometres from there.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/08/13/stories/2005081301390300.htm

Ulakkaiaruvi : A walk on the wild side

Ulakkaiaruvi: also a botany lesson, says SOMA BASU

THICK-SET FORESTS, rocky tracts, hidden pathways, an effusive waterfall, a three-km trek on an abandoned forest pathway. Ulakkaiaruvi is impossible to do alone. If it wasn't for the help of the Forest Department staff, this RLT wouldn't have seen the light of day.

Locals know the area but don't venture out much. But if you manage to find someone from the village or, better still, the Forest Department, the journey could become more than just a walk on the wild side — also an interesting lesson in botany.

Nestling in the deciduous Asambu forests in Kanyakumari district in the southernmost tip of the Western Ghats, Ulakkaiaruvi is about 30 minutes drive from Nagercoil. We walk our way up through a patchwork of lemon grass, under the shade of teak and rosewood and wild coconut and on a pathway along which keezhanelli and other medicinal plants abound, a live pharmacy with cures or palliatives for everything from jaundice and diabetes to chest pain.

I am shown a bilva tree. A medicinal plant whose oblong leaves form the stem too making a beautiful rangoli-like pattern. There's a mahabilva too, whose leaves are offered to Lord Siva. My companions, Sreevalsan and Ramdas, give me an interesting demonstration. They cut a branch of a tree called pullani ("vedanintholan" in Tamil meaning a hunter's friend). To my surprise, it oozes crystal clear water. We quickly fill our empty bottles and the replenishment is truly refreshing.

The area is an "active ecological habitat." More than 2,500 species of plants are estimated to grow here. The place, besides being a delight to botanists, is also an ornithologist's paradise with 150 types of listed birds found here. Plus: it is home to elephants, sambar, chital, Nilgiri tahr, langur, mouse deer and wild boar.

When we reached the base of the falls — which cascade from a height of 100 ft in a single long column of water resembling a pounder (and so the name olakkai) — my friends egg me on to climb up to the top.

The view from there is unforgettable. The shifting play of colour, the deep gurgle of water and a peppermint-like breeze contribute to the sylvan setting.

It is believed that the area may be declared a sanctuary. At the same time, the district administration has a project in the pipeline to make Ulakkaiaruvi more tourist friendly by laying paths, creating resting zones and perhaps introducing a winch to ferry people to the waterfall. But all this is still very much at the conceptual stage.

The way down is every bit as tough as the three-hour journey up and so this RLT is recommended only for the hardy.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2004/08/21/stories/2004082100290100.htm

Chitharal : History atop a hillock

The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

STEPS TO THE PAST Chitharal

After finding my way from Nagercoil to Chitharal, a tiny, unpretentious village, I stand in front of a huge Kerala-style arch. This impressive entrance at the foot of the Thirucharanmalai hillock welcomes visitors but gives them no indication of the hard climb ahead.

Lesson 1, I learnt: Don't overestimate your level of fitness. Lesson 2: It's always wise to choose a day when the sun is not too sharp to start your ascent of what is practically a vertical cliff. For, the only attraction at the end of the demanding RLT is a cave atop the hill which has rock cut sculptures of the Jain Thirthankaras and attendant deities dating back to the 9th Century A.D.

Uphill task

The moment I cross the arch and begin climbing the steps, I realise this is not an easy RLT, what with the merciless sun beating down on my face and the climb steep. Cement benches line the entire 800-metre climb but with the sun blazing down, it's impossible to sit on them. The path uphill is dotted with cashewnut trees, interspersed with other shade-giving trees. Around the benches, beds of colourful flowers have been laid and huge trees bearing red and violet flowers complete the picturesque scene - the handiwork of a former District Collector of Kanyakumari, who tried to develop Thirucharanmalai into a tourist destination.

At last, I see two men climbing downhill and hopefully ask them how far away the shrine is. They merely smile, shrug and walk on, making me wonder how much longer the trek is. But, with each step I take, it seems that I am going back in time, delving into the past, to another era. Yes, Chitharal is one of the last few vestiges of Jainism. In days of yore, this rock shrine was a pilgrim centre for the Jains.

Around the period of the decline of Jainism during the rule of the Cholas in the 11th Century, it is believed that Chandragupta Maurya, along with a Jain ascetic Badrabhahu, reached Sravanabelagola in 298 BC. Their disciples travelled to this region to spread Jainism and chose the hillock for meditation. It was, however, converted into a Hindu temple in 1250A.D., and an image of Bhagavathy was installed.

Almost an hour later, I reach the top of the craggy hill. Its name, Thirucharanmalai, means `the hill holy to the charanas'.

The charanas are said to be the eighth class of samanas who acquired the siddhi by which they could conceal themselves in flowers, water or sky. It also means `a place where Jains live in large groups.'

Atop the hillock, a cool breeze brushes against my cheek and I take in the charming landscape. The jagged outline of the Western Ghats, enveloped by white puffs of clouds, presents a pretty picture against the blue canvas of the sky. Below, the gleaming lakes, fields, winding rivers, clusters of villages nestling amid coconut and palmyrah groves, tall church spires, lofty gopurams... appear enchanting.

I explore the natural cave that has made Chitharal so famous. What catches my attention on the hilltop are two huge rocks almost resting on each other to form a narrow opening through which you can see the beautiful landscape on the other side. Squeeze yourself through this aperture and take the natural stairway down to the rock sculptures. On the northern side of the overhanging rocks are carved images of the Thirthankaras, with their distinct hanging earlobes, the three-tiered umbrella over their tonsured heads, in sitting and standing postures. The images have broad shoulders, slender waists and a contemplative expression on their faces. Between each image are inscriptions in Vattezhuthu.

As you go around the wall of rock art, another flight of steps takes you to the imposing ruins of a temple perched right on top of the hill. Most of the deities in the central shrine are believed to be those of the Jain Thirthankaras, namely Parsvanatha and Mahavira. The Hindus, however, consider these to be images of Maha Vishnu. The central shrine is divided into three chambers — one for the Goddess, another for Mahavira, and, the third, for Parsvanatha in a standing posture. Another flight of steps leads to a pond in front of the shrine. On top of the central shrine is a brick gopuram. The three-storey pagoda apparently carried images of Mahavira. But I learnt that it was destroyed by lightning in 1908.

Tranquil spot

Chitharal is a tranquil spot — a confluence of history and religion. The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb. The district administration is busy giving the place a facelift. Many tourists have begun visiting the spot to catch a glimpse of the frescos and the panoramic view of the hills.

How to get there: Chitharal (also spelt Chidaral) is 55km from Kanyakumari, 36km from Nagercoil and 7km from Marthandam. The approach road is from Kandapuram, leading to Elanthavilas. Chitharal is located exactly 4km North East of Kuzhithurai.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/04/07/stories/2007040700400300.htm

Nenmeni : Enjoy the breeze and birdsong

Trek to a reservoir, visit a temple and do some bird-watching, says SOMA BASU

PHOTOS: SOMA BASU

QUIET FLOWS THE RIVER People crossing the shallow waters of the Vaipparu

When they saw the disappointment on my face, the two young lads I met at Kullur Sandhai suggested that I visit Nenmeni. Not that Kullur Sandhai was a bad choice, but it was not quite as picturesque as an RLT is meant to be.

So I extended my drive by 45 minutes through Virudhunagar District to my new destination - Nenmeni.

A new dam under construction on the River Vaipparu, which also has a PWD irrigation tank, attracts birds in the winter months. Barely a km from the Nenmeni dam site, stands a temple in Irukkankudi, almost floating at the confluence of two rivers - the Arjuna and the Vaipparu.

Nine km east of Sattur, it is not difficult to find your way to the banks of the Vaipparu. The road is narrow and bumpy, but the green paddy fields alongside are a soothing sight.

Later, I learnt that Nenmeni is actually a corruption of the Tamil word `Nelmani' meaning `paddy yield'. I left behind rows of kuccha-pucca houses in the villages en route and drove on till the road became a long, narrow track culminating in a dead end.

There was construction work ahead, and the detour I took was a muddy, path on which vehicles of all sizes tried to squeeze through. I picked my way out of the muddle and finally reached the dam site. I was surprised to find the area dry, despite torrential rain elsewhere in the State.

The Vaipparu flowed quietly, but did not brim with water. The dam, though a modern construction in grey stone, resembled a castle. The grey dam, blue sky, the greenery around and the silver water below made an interesting contrast.

Avian visitors

The dam under construction.

The irrigation tank on one side, I learnt got filled by December and attracted a fairly large number of avian visitors. Many seasonal and migratory birds apparently made this place a stop-over. However, I did not get to see any.

So I decided to visit the 200-year-old Mariamman Temple. I walked along the bund for a kilometre.

The surrounding area was as flat as a pancake, with the hills far away in the horizon. A few coconut trees swayed in the foreground, standing tall amid other species.

As I neared the temple, I spotted the confluence of two separate streams - the Arjuna and the Vaipparu. The water flowed languidly, almost grey-brown in colour.

What was actually a waterway seemed like a busy thoroughfare with people and even vehicles going across it. There are two such shallow areas - one, almost half a km away from the temple site where two and four-wheelers cross and, the other, right in front of the temple, mostly used by pilgrims.

Two-century-old temple

My first glimpse of the shrine was disappointing for there was too much litter strewn around, some of it even floating in the water. I waded through knee-deep water to reach the temple gate. The sun-soaked exterior of this two-century-old temple gave way to a cool interior.

Legend has it that a young girl who was gathering cow dung, happened to place her basket on the ground, but later found that she could not remove it.

She had a vision that a temple should be built on the spot. The temple priests claim they have inherited the temple and all other rituals and customs from their forefathers.

Temple not really being on my agenda, I wondered what made Nenmeni an appropriate RLT destination.

Undoubtedly, the reservoir and the birds. The best time to visit is between December and February.

For the religiously inclined, the Irukkankudi Mariamman Temple is a bonus.

But there's more to Nenmeni and Irukkankudi than the dam and the temple.

The walk from the dam to the temple is fun for trekkers. It's more enjoyable in wet weather because it's cooler and the whole place comes alive with birdsong.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/11/25/stories/2006112500020300.htm

Thondi : A port with a past

For a slice of history, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

PICTURESQUE SETTING The pier at Thondi

Beaches always beckon and so does anything `ancient.' This time a friend in the Police Department posted in Ramanathapuram district, recommends some neglected but beautiful places there.

"They are deserving RLT spots," he assures. So, I get into my car and head to Thondi, an ancient port city in Ramnad. The drive from Madurai takes a little over three hours. But be prepared for a stomach-churning stretch from Thiruvadanai to Thondi as there is no proper road and also leave your olfactory senses behind or else don't embark on this journey.

But if you are driven by an adventurous spirit, just hit the track. You just can't always have the best on every RLT trip, I remind myself as my eyes scan the setting on either side of the road. From Madurai to Thiruvadanai, the road is good and the drive, pretty smooth. Nature doesn't have much to offer during this season except for patches of tamarind arches on the highway. Paddy has been harvested and much of the landscape around is brown. But the worse is yet to begin when the vehicle suddenly slips with a thud from a tar track on to a muddy and pebbled tract.

Suddenly, there's activity all around. Bulldozers and road rollers, mounds of sand and beds of crushed stones line the narrow and kucha, almost unmotorable road. The car grudgingly makes its way through the brown haze raised by passing vehicles. Through the dusty veil, I spot a brightly painted temple gopuram, a moss layered school building, thatched huts and some dilapidated structures. The paint on a handful of signposts and milestones on the way has faded. The muddy road branches off from what was supposed to be the main road and curves down bringing into sight some hamlets and a church on the right.

On the left one can see the Bay of Bengal shimmering under the fiery sun. As I reach there post-noon, it's hot and what makes the initial moments worse is the smell of fish. The best option is to cover your nose and drive on. It is the first lap of about 750 m that stinks.

Unique experience

Drive along the coastline till the road reaches a dead end at the gate of the Thondi branch of the Karaikudi-based Alagappa University. Just before this beautiful campus by the seaside is the office of the Naval Detachment Unit. Opposite the naval base, a half-a-km long cemented pier takes you right into the sea. It is a unique experience to walk on it with a strong wind blowing on your face. But don't go too close to the edge as there is no safety railing to hold on to. It is a naked land jetty and used only for fishing. The water, however, is still. The Palk Strait at Thondi is supposed to be shallow and is considered much safer than other areas around the Strait and the Gulf of Mannar. Thondi could have qualified as an ideal place for swimming, surfing and sun bathing. But then due to lack of road and rail connectivity and inadequate hinterland development, the place has lost its importance and is used only for fishing now.

But its historical importance cannot be undermined. Thondi is recorded as a heritage place of the great Kings of the Cheras, the Cholas and the Pandyas, who all nurtured this port city. Even the British used the Thondi Port to import and export goods from Sri Lanka and Burma, among other countries. There have been demands to revive the port for the past several decades but only now under the Sethu Samudram Project implementation, some work has begun in laying a road to Thondi.

If the smell doesn't bother you much, then you can enjoy the serenity of the place. You see nothing but water here in three directions. In the foreground, it looks mossy green but follow the receding horizon and you find a lovely combination of blue and shining silver. The sea is gentle and fishermen's boats appear in the distance like tiny specks on the aqua canvas. If you turn your back to the sea, the fourth side reveals the secular nature of the place. The coastline is dotted with a church, a temple and a mosque.

Truly, Thondi hides a charming delight. If only the authorities take care to clean up the area, can it be developed into a more inviting destination.

How to get there

Thondi is 40 km from Ramanathapuram and 145 km from Madurai. While coming from Madurai, take the Sivagangai road and on to Kalaiyarkoil and Thiruvadanai before reaching Thondi.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/02/26/stories/2007022600150200.htm

Kumarakoil : Ups and downs

Kumarakoil Not a perfect RLT destination, but you could still enjoy some picturesque sights, says Soma Basu

Photo: Soma Basu

For a short trip Kumarakoil

When reading up on Kumarakoil, I am tempted to visit this ancient Murugan temple on a green hillock surrounded by green fields and a lake. And I set out. I am on the mountain road that winds its way through small villages, I turn right 15 km down on Nagercoil-Thiruvananthapuram main road and in less than 30 minutes from Nagercoil, I reach the Kumarakoil village. A narrow, dusty, potholed road — dotted with paddy fields though — brings me right in front of the temple. A distressing truth unfolds. No green hill to climb. Just a cluster of houses fill up the area. Garbage is dumped on one side of the temple and on the other, few small shops sell puja articles. I think of cancelling the RLT and retreating. But having come all the way, I trudge ahead. I look up at the 250 feet high hillock and the temple appears a speck of white. The heat burns me and the 80-odd steps leave me breathless. Finally, at the temple entrance I am elated. I look below and see paddy fields, coconut groves and banana plantations... undulating green cover. The silence inside the temple is intense. The cool interiors refresh me. A grey-haired priest, guessing I am a first-timer and an unlikely pilgrim, offers help. He enlightens me about the temple’s history and mythology. Near Padmanabhapuram, the erstwhile capital of Travancore, this temple is on the slopes of legendary Veli Malai (legend has it that Lord Murugan married Valli here). The place is also known as Manamalai or Kalyanamala. The Travancore kings had set aside large areas of land and paddy fields to support the temple. By the temple are Kanjipuras, where ascetics and pilgrims were once served food. These structures are dilapidated now, but on special days, pilgrims are still offered prasadam.

Gauging my disinterest in the temple history, the priest arranges for a boat ride in the lake, which is the temple tank. A happy finale I thought as I hopped into the small boat. Somewhere in the middle of the tank, few people are taking a dip. As I leave them behind to the twittering of the birds perched on tree tops on the other end of the lake, I realise, it is Kumarakoil’s history and surroundings that makes it an interesting place.

How to get there: Kumarakoil is 34 km f rom Kanyakumari, 15 km North West of Nagercoil and three km from Thuckalay. It is also close to the old Padmanabhapuram palace.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/07/16/stories/2007071651080200.htm

Sathanur (Perambalur) : Embalmed by Nature

Sathanur: a tree that is as old as forever, says SOMA BASU

THIS RLT was devoted to the search of a tree. Not any old tree of course, but one that is believed to be 120,000,000 years old. I re-checked the number of zeros with the Geological Survey of India, even though a couple of zeros either added or taken out wouldn't really have made a difference. But you get the point, yes? Very, very old.

Of course, I almost never made it to my destination: Sathanur. The drive from Tiruchi to Ariyalur, particularly the 25 km stretch to Sathanur, is — to understate the point — not exactly a featherbed. And then the bumpy, spine-testing drive came to an abrupt halt because the road itself came to a sudden halt.

Hauling myself out, I began walking beside shepherds and along a muddy tract beside which children swung on ropes attached to trees and were busy fishing in small ponds. Smalls streams that cut across the pathway glistened under a kindly sun.

Having asked directions to the maram (tree) all the way, I reached a point where there was no longer a need to. There it was, its large trunk petrified and embedded in a group of rocks that were as old as eternity. As I walked to the spot, an old man, Murugesan, who has been guarding this rare remains of this conifer tree came running out with a key. He unlocked the iron gate to let me into an open compound, where it lies, measuring some 18 metres and looking like a sandy brown log of wood. The Geological Survey reported its existence in 1940 and it has been declared an asset with the entire areas surrounding it a protected geological monument.

Its history

The story goes that the sea, which lies about 100 km east of Sathanur today, was present in these parts. During this period — geologically classified as cretaceous — the sea abounded in a variety of marine animals, not wholly dissimilar to those that exist today. When they died, these animals sank to the bottom to be buried by sand and clay brought down by the rivers. Along with them, some trees that flourished on the coast or near the shore were also buried after being flushed in by the streams. In course of time, they were petrified, embalmed forever by Nature.

The tree is exposed to Nature, but Murugesan says he has not seen any change in its colour or composition for the past three decades. He doesn't receive many visitors barring the odd group of college students out on excursions. A tattered register maintains a record of the visitors over the years. The tree's caretaker thinks the Government should do more to make it an attraction. He suggests that if the surrounding areas are developed into a park, more people will come to look at it. This will also give local villagers an alternative source of income.

Fossil trees

The idea makes good sense. For, there are similar fossil trees in the area near Varagur, Anaipadi, Alundalippur and Sarada-Mangalam — all within a radius of 10 km. The entire area can be developed into an important geological site. Meanwhile, Murugesan's protective zeal ensures that no damage is done to the tree. He has another three years to go but hopes the department will extend his services if visitors write kind words in the guest book. I do this because of Sathanur, which turns out to be an atypical but interesting RLT. I do this also for the dedicated keeper of the tree.

How to get there

Sathanur may be reached via the Chennai-Tiruchi highway. Don't miss the left turn from Siruvachur Village, which leads to the maram.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/01/22/stories/2005012202210100.htm