Mysore report - Chamundi Hill

Mysore has always been a favored holiday destination for us. During my childhood

we spent almost all our summer holidays at my uncle’s place in Saraswatipuram.

I have fond memories of holidays in Mysore and in particular the summer holidays

of 1965 when I learnt to cycle. 

A bicycle, in 1965, was a prized possession. People who owned bicycles were

protective of their possessions and it wasn’t easy for a young learner to get hold

of one. The ‘cycle shops’ which gave bicycles on hourly rent and which could be

found almost on every street also refused to give the cycle on rent to learners.

The trick was to take a person who knew cycling, rent a cycle and surreptitiously

use it to learn. But the rental of 25 paisa per hour was not easy to come by. 

I was yearning to learn cycling and was excited to see a bicycle in front of my

uncle’s house in Mysore. But I was not sure if I would get to lay my hands on it.

When I found that it belonged to a cousine of mine, wasn’t locked and that the

owner was not around, I was almost sure that I would realise my dream. And I

was right. By the end of our summer holidays both the bicycle and my body were

much dented but I had learnt to cycle ! Learning to cycle is a thrilling and momentous

time in a young boy’s life. And it certainly made that holiday special ! 

My visits to Mysore reduced considerably after I got out of high school and there

were large gaps between visits during the next twenty years or so. Then my

father in law shifted to Mysore and trips to the city became frequent once again.

My children loved the Zoo and we also visited the Chamundi hills and other places

almost every time. But curiously, we had never attempted to climb the Chamundi

hill by foot either during my younger years or anytime later. This fact occurred to me

suddenly during my trip to Mysore last week and I decided to try that and put my

knees to test the very next morning. 

Google guided me to the ‘Chamundi hills steps parking place’ and I was there by

six in the morning. I started climbing immediately but that being a Friday, the steps

were already getting crowded by hundreds of the faithful who were there with a

plate containing ‘haldi and Kumkum’ powder in hand. They were praying and

smearing every step with the ingredients from their plate as they climbed. There

are about one thousand steps. I was impressed and touched by their faith. It is

something beyond comprehension. 

I kept a good pace. Though I had to stop to regain my breath now and then,

I climbed about seven hundred steps in fifteen minutes and then I got bored with

the climbing process. There was a continuous stream of people going up and down.

The steps were not of equal height and some were missing altogether. Hence,

I had to literally watch my steps and there was no chance of looking around.

And even if I had, there weren’t any great sights to look at because the sides of

the steps were covered by shrubbery and overgrowth raising up to 6-8 feet in

height and I couldn’t see anything beyond them. 

By then I had reached the place where the steps cross the motorable road going

up the hill and I decided to leave the steps and walk the remaining distance to

the top. Within a minute I had reached the spot known as the ‘Nandi’ - Statue of

the big bull - from where there was another road going downhill. I was wondering

whether to go up or down when a gentleman who was there with a group enquired

“ಏನ್ ಸಾರ್ ಕನ್ ಫ್ಯೂಸ್ ಆಗ್ಬಿಟ್ಟಿದೀರಾ. ಎಲ್ಲಿಗ್ ಹೋಗ್ಬೇಕು ?” (You look confused sir, where

do you intend going?). I told him that I had no goal and was looking for a road or

track which was not crowded and that I intended to just amble along, looking around.

He pointed to the road going down and said - “ಹಂಗಾ, ಈ ರಸ್ತೆಮೇಲೆ ಹೋಗ್ಬಿಡಿ”. 

meaning that I should take the road going downhill. That road, he said, led towards

the base of the hill and touched the main road from another direction. I thanked

him and took the road. 

Before I had walked about a hundred yards, I knew that I did the right thing. There

wasn’t another soul on the road, it was completely shaded as it was on the slope

facing west and there was a wonderful cool breeze. And since it only had a very

short protective wall and no other hindrance to my view, the wonderful vista of the

Mysore city and the surroundings was in front of me. I walked along enjoying the

seclusion and the sights and in about half an hour had reached the main road

going towards Mysore. I turned back. 

Walking uphill was equally pleasant and I was humming tunes of the songs of my

liking as I walked. Then it occurred to me that it was a good opportunity for me to

sing ! I love some of the kannada poems and devotional songs, and have a few

of them in memory. Sometimes just out of a whim, I start singing. As the singing

continues, the volume rises without my knowledge and then I hear something like

“I have heard enough of you, please allow me to cook in peace”  or “appa, please

remember that there are other members of your family here in residence.”  or some

such equally caustic statement. I agree that it is not easy to tolerate the onslaught

on the ears but my family members could have been a bit more generous. Anyway

that puts an end to my singing. 

On this road there was no one to object to my singing. No one within earshot.

Chamundeshwari and Nandi were about two kilometers away. There were

peacocks nearby. I could hear them. But they themselves were shouting their

heads off and hence had no moral right to object to my singing. So I sat on a

stone by the side of the road and let my voice out without guilt !

Another kilometer and I had reached the junction from where I had started.

I climbed down the steps, got onto my scooter and returned home in time for

a good breakfast. I felt that it was a nice experience and therefore I wrote it out

to  post it on my blog www.dentaldiaries.blogspot.com  which is there only for

the purpose of storing my thoughts, for whatever they are worth.