Roadtrip to BR Hills, Puncture and No Bread!

Special Note

Names of Characters may be fictional, may not be. If you don't know who it is, it’s the former, and if otherwise, it’s the latter. Very Simply, You Can't Ask Any Question about who's who. You just read. I'll give you the pleasure of reading it without any questions on people.

0600 hours. Gokulam, Mysore.

Fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

There was no power. Arun’s plans of sleeping that extra two minutes were disrupted by repeated pleas for waking up by Arvind, Anish and his own mobile phone. I’m talking about his cock-a-doodle-doo alarm.

Arvind put bread loaves (family pack, as I later was given to understand) in a blue bag. I repeat, a BLUE BAG. (Remember, blue bag)

Enter Arjun, Rahul, Salil, Swapnil, Manas and Anchit. And upon Arjun, the local hero’s suggestion, we went to mylari for breakfast. We went to the original one mind you. (And I have proof also)

The idlis here were simply out of the world! It was so good, that you should just stop reading this and go there and try out the oh-so-good idlis.

Still reading? Fine.

The journey was smooth as usual. With 4 Bajaj Pulsars and 1 Yamaha RX 135, you thought there could be problems? Not your mistake. That’s what even we thought.

It took us a couple of brief stops for the camera enthusiasts and the thing guys do behind the bushes (standing), when on long trips on bikes, to places like B R Hills, to reach Yelandur.

We stopped for a few minutes. Anish and Arjun had to share about the damsels of the village they noticed. And hunger struck! We thought some munching could help.

And then, Fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

The blue bag, which I had asked you to remember earlier, was not with us!

It was at this crucial point in time that Arun chose to reveal, he saw it in the house when he locked it, but disregarded it completely! There went our two family bread loaves.

We all were shattered. Simply shattered. I mean a road trip and no bread? How can I live even a single day without bread??? All of us looked at Arun and he was looking for corners (tables) to hide (under).

Being the good bachelors and taking life as it comes, we rode along.

Now is the first good thing about the trip.

The ride from Yelandur to BR Hills is one of the most beautiful rides ever. Silence was deafening. Given an option, I would’ve personally squatted there all my life. Bread didn’t matter at this point. Arun clicked photos left, right and centre. Arvind was not left behind too. If you like silence, are a nature-photography freak (like Arvind is), and have a Sunday, I would suggest you go to this place and spend some of the most exhilarating time of your life. I vouch for that.

As we reached B R Hills, Fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

Arjun’s pulsar rear tire got punctured!

In a place like B R Hills, to find some decent food, you’ve got to be lucky, a puncture shop? No way! But, we, bachelors, call ourselves luckier. There was one noble soul.

What ensued was the most bugging time for all of us. The tube had to be sourced from Yelandur, the food from the potti angdi. (Let me remind you, no bread. Arun forgot the blue bag in the house)

Three hours had been spent by us on a rock like thingy, staring at by-passers, passing comments, which at times were lewd, listening to the ding ding sounds (Anish and Arun converse in Malayalam you see), trying to sit, admiring spaces and nature, eating local food, hoping puncture would be repaired soon. As I type this, I go blank. No eventful thing comes to my mind. We were like that on the rock.

At last, some one up there, above the world so high, smiled and things started moving. After 3 hours. I repeat, 3 hours and let me bring to your notice, without bread, which was in the blue bag, which Arun disregarded at home

We respected God’s decision not to see us (He made us wait for 3 hours and when we went to the temple, it was closed!) and we went to Giri darshan. For food. He was open and was courteous. Small events like, the waiter asking “where are you from?” and one of us answering, “chutney!” were ignored and full concentration was given to the food. Don’t ask whether the food was good or not, beggars are not choosers.

The local hero, Arjun did some fact finding and came to know about DODDA SAMPIGE, which is about 15 kms from BR Hills. This was the second good thing about the trip. The ride was completely inside the forest. There was tar road, probably laid when Jesus was born.

After riding for about 20 minutes, there is a deviation to be taken which goes inside the forest. You’ve to walk, but we, being the bachelors, not taking life as it comes, chose to break the rule and get the bike inside the forest. The photo may give you an indication towards the same.

Apprehensions loomed at large, mainly because this was a forest, wild animals may be out on the loose, baying for human blood and flesh (and bones and hair), Soligas (tribe in B R Hills) may be there to loot the software engineers of their valuables, etc., etc.,

We reached a point where we had to park the bikes and walk the path. This was the next good thing about the trip. Completely inside the forest, apprehensions as said in the above paragraph, 10 guys (think straight, will you?), it was just awesome! We reached the huuuuuge tree, which we later came to understand, was more 3000 years old. Before Jesus was born that is.

There was a river passing by. The view underneath the tree accurately matched with the images shown in the popular serial of yesteryears, Zee Horror Show. People freaked out here, and had fun, exhilarations, and such like.

Fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

If we didn’t cross the checkpost by 1800 hours, we had to stay in the forest!

Arun and I did some data based calculations on how to beat the time. I made sure Arun was convinced by my logic. However, we passed the checkpost in time. And we reached the state of exhilaration, again!

We saw a couple of elephants passing by, checking on us, probably and took a couple of snaps as well. I won’t put it here, because we plan to sell it. Copyrights with Arvind.

We had a brief photo session in between, with Rahul playing the God, and Anish lending his hands for help. Almost each one of us had a single photo taken here with the sincerest hopes that atleast one damsel would say, wow. U single? Hm…..

Then we didn’t want to waste more time and started the journey to Mysore, through Chamarajanagar.

We met a red coloured luggage rickshaw parked and admiring the baboons. (yes, there were and we saw it with our own eyes. For that matter, there was a fox also. Some people may say it was not a fox, but a deer, but an animal nevertheless). They were jovial and we didn’t want to get too friendly with them.

And then, fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

Arvind’s rear tire gave way!! Second Puncture of the day!

Arjun immediately how we could make use of the red coloured luggage rickshaw which we read about a couple of paragraphs back and now, we tried to get friendly with them! What a paradox of life! I would rather blame it on the bachelor hood.

Arvind and Manas boarded the rickshaw along with the bike. After what seem’d eternity, we reached a place called N Halli (Expansion for N is for you to guess, no early bird prizes, take your own time in guessing).

And believe it or not, there was a puncture shop!!!

The old man and a couple of boys there took another eternity to set the puncture right. We waited and waited and waited and waited and wa….

Anish stole this opportunity and proclaimed himself a movie star, much to the awe of the kids in N Halli. He promised them, he would visit the place again with Shivrajkumar, the shahrukh khan of kannada cinema. He also promised them water for all, education for all and eradication of poverty, Oomman Chandy style!

The exhilaration point here was the puncture getting repaired. We were all victorious. We thumped each others backs and tears of joy came flowing!

The road from Chamrajanagar to Mysore is quite good to be called a highway. We all ripped at nothing less than 90kmph in these roads in the dark nights. The only danger being the lorries having no reflectors at the rear and no lights in the front, making sure you won’t have a clue what lies ahead of you.

And then, my dear friends, Fate had to intervene. It just had to. I guess, it was written somewhere on some wall, or stone if you like it.

Arjun’s rear tire which was replaced with a fresh tube, gave way!!!

Everything was happening here. Like the good bachelors, taking life as it comes, we all put up a brave fight. Suppressing our outbursts, we resorted to omelets, lemon tea, and more crazy things the mallu guy had to offer. We were 7 kms from Mysore when this happened!!! What in the name of f*****g hell? 3 punctures and no bread!

The last place of puncture being set right. Arjun shows up a smile. Anish uses the moment to satisfy his sadistic pleasure by teasing Arjun.

After this incident, all of us were very, very cautious. Anish rode the bike in which I was the pillion. He rode it with extra care. By the time we reached home, It was 2230 hours.

That completed the road trip, laden with punctures and void of bread in the blue bag!

I rest my case.