An 'Add On' To 'Jog Falls and Keladi Temple'

The sight of the river flowing into the valley at Jog falls overwhelmed the poet and he expressed his emotions in the form of a poem “maanavanaagi huTTidamEle EnEnkanDi” urging the mankind to visit the Jog falls at least once in a lifetime and see the splendour.

Someone who read those lines and enjoyed the sight, agreed with the poet and put up the idea of inviting the then Diwan (chief minister) of Mysore to Jog Falls.

The Diwan accepted the invitation, a day was fixed for the visit and arrangements made. 

The Diwan arrived with his entourage and was conducted to the site. He stood looking at the falls for some time and the entourage waited eagerly for his reaction to the splendid sight.

The Divan Sir M Vishweshwariah uttered four famous words, as famous as the poem, “oh, what a waste,” which sealed the fate of Jog Falls. 

The engineer in Sir MV was thinking how easy it was to generate electricity at the place and how much of water energy was simply being wasted!

The Sharavati power station was built, the Linganamakki dam was constructed and Jog falls became history.

The poet had said “maanavanaagi huTTidamEle EnEnkanDi

                              Saayotanaka samsaaradoLage ganDaagunDi

                              HErikonDu hOgOdilla sattag banDi

                              IrodroLage omme nODu jogad gunDi

Meaning, “It is the same ‘day to day’ grind till death,  look at the jog at least once while alive.”  (I did not get the meaning of the third line - probably it means “no one will carry your body (there) after you are dead”). 

In short - "forget your daily grind, enjoy the sight of Jog falls"

And Sir M V said, forget the jog falls and use the energy to ease your daily grind.

Jog Falls And Keladi Temple

"Maanavanaagi huTTidamele yenenkanDi?

SaayodroLage omme noDu jogaad gunDi"

(What have you seen being born as a human? See the Jog once before you die)

Said the poet Mooguru Mallappa. He had written these lines  at a time when the Sharavati river was full bodied and the sight of the river jumping into the valley, nearly nine hundred feet below, was a sight which brought out such famous lines. After the river was contained at the Linganamakki dam and was made to work for us producing power, all one could see at ‘Jogad GunDi’ was just the empty ‘gunDi’ (ditch). We had heard that the Jog falls do regain some of its past splendor during rains and thought that we would follow Mallappa’s lines and visit ‘Jogad gunDi’ before it is too late.  

We left Goa in the morning and were in the coastal town of Honnavar by lunch time. After a futile attempt to eat the lunch provided by a hotel in Honnavar we left the highway and turned into the Honnavar - Shimoga road. Another national highway.  It is a pleasant journey of sixty kilometers from Honnavar to Jogfalls amidst abundant greenery. Pleasant except for a small stretch of wretched road, which you will cross easily if you do not come across any oncoming bus or truck. Better to have a prayer or two handy in case such a situation arises.  I managed one such occasion with a prayer and soon afterwards we noticed a sign which said ‘view point’ and a small concrete platform next to it.

The view was worth the effort of parking the car, ignoring the trash littered around by uncivilized tourists and climbing onto the platform.

An hour later we saw a big board saying ‘welcome to Jog falls’ and a road leading away from the highway. In another minute we were in a dirty parking lot where we had to park the car amongst the other haphazardly parked vehicles and walk to a very disappointing viewing platform. The falls was nowhere near what we had expected and the surroundings even worse. There was overgrown shrubbery blocking the view and plenty of trash right at our feet. Since we could not spend more than about ten minutes there, we returned to the car and dejectedly drove to Sagar town where we were intending to spend the night, cursing ourselves for taking Mallappa’s words seriously.

The view from the hotel room was better than what we had witnessed at Jog and we were refreshed after  a wash and a cup of hot tea.

We had planned to visit ‘Keladi’, a historic place once ruled by Shivappa nayaka (heard of Keladi Chennamma? She is another brave queen said to have fought with the mughals and pushed them back. It was one of the lessons in our primary school Kannada text) and we hoped that it would not be another disappointment.  Keladi is a small place just about five kilometers from Sagar and we were there by half past five. The museum housing some artifacts from the old kingdom was closed but the Veerabhadreshwara temple was open.

The temple, constructed with wood and stone stood on a large plot next to a majestic Peepal tree surrounded by a well tended lawn and the pleasant sight took away the dejection that had been brought about by the falls.

The doors of the main building lead to a flag stoned court yard, again very neat and clean and at the center there are three small temples of Veerabhadreshwara, Parvati and Rameshwara.  The caretaker who was surprised and happy to see some visitors, enthusiastically pointed out the salient features and we spent an hour enjoying the serenity and history.

The main door leads to the back of the temples.

The front, with a 24 feet monolithic pillar.

Keladi Chennamma, at the base of the pillar 

'GanDabherunDa' the double headed bird, the insignia of Keladi Nayakas, carved in the ceiling.

Wooden granary - of the size of a marine container.

After the overnight halt at Sagar and a better than expected dinner and breakfast in the hotel (Varadashree), we were back on our way to Goa the next morning. As we neared the road leading to the falls again and was preparing to curse the falls one last time, we noticed a bridge crossing the river we were passing by. On an impulse we just turned on to the bridge and decided that we would drive through the country side for some distance and come back. After crossing the bridge we noticed a sign board saying ‘Jog falls. 1.2 kms’ and followed the road which lead to a ticketing booth. We were surprised to hear that it was the entry point to the Jog falls and we eagerly brought the tickets with a new hope and drove onto a well maintained parking lot. A stone paved path lead to a neat viewing gallery which provided the usual poster picture view of Jog Falls!

We fools had entered the Jog falls from the wrong direction and had gone behind the falls the previous evening and had been cursing the falls, the Karnataka government and Moogooru mallappa for our folly! The consolation was that there were hundreds of other fools who had done the same thing!

 A haapy mother and son pair and a scare crow posed for the pictures and soon after that the whole valley was covered by dense fog and nothing could be seen other than floating white mist. We were happy that we were there right on time and it was worth the visit. The pictures shows what we saw and the accompanying you tube video shows what some lucky people might see even this day if they visit the falls during heavy rains and if the  gates of Linganamakki dam are open. That sight would make any one agree with the lines  'Saayodrolage omme noDu Jogad gunDi'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyxK12PW3rw

"Dentists Need Not Contact"

Karnataka CET cell publishes the list of available seats in various colleges everyday in the news papers during the period when counseling for seats is on. I felt bad to see that the BDS seats were the last to fill and seats in many colleges had no takers.

I had heard that the sign boards indicating a Dental clinic were just next in numbers after the boards of Pepsi and coke in Bengaluru and that many dental graduates have taken up jobs as representatives and in BPOs.

Dentists in the coastal belt of Goa keep pamphlets advertising their trade in tourist taxis and pay the driver a commission for bringing in patients.

One of the matrimonial advertisements in the classified columns of a newspaper said “dentists need not contact”. Fortunately I got married before such sentiments settled in but I do feel bad to see  the degradation of my profession.

But these thoughts had remained in a corner of my mind and shaped  this article when this lady came to the clinic asking for extracted teeth. 

Students of dentistry, visiting a clinic asking for extracted teeth is something quite common. I used to do it when I was in second year and I am sure almost all my professional colleagues have done the same. We wanted natural teeth to practice our skills before we were let loose on patients and good teeth were in short supply. We had to run around a bit in search of extracted teeth but in the end, all of us did manage to get the required number of teeth. Either from our college or from private clinics. To get the teeth from our surgery department we had to rely up on the servants in the department and tip them a rupee or two for their services ( for ‘tea’) which involved picking up the extracted teeth from the bucket, collecting them in a bottle and handing them over to us.

But now it seems that the dentists have taken over the business.

It was a lean day, there were no patients and I was searching for some flies to hunt and keep myself occupied. There were no flies even. Only a few mosquitos which are not much of a help in killing time. Mosquitos are no challenge for a person having a lifetime experience in hunting flies. Towards closing time I saw a middle aged lady parking her scooter in front of the clinic and thought that the day’s milk and vegetable expenses at least are met. I tried to guess what her complaint would be. Usually I can make out a case of severe tooth ache right on the street. There was no sign of pain here. May be a fallen filling or teeth to be cleaned.  Anything was welcome. I greeted her as she entered. 

“Good evening, What can I do for you?”

“I did not come for any treatment doctor. (Hope of milk and veg money dashed) My daughter is doing her BDS (Why? Oh god, why did you not give her better sense?) and she wants some extracted teeth for her practicals. Mr Parab told me – you know Mr Parab don’t you? He is my neighbour. It seems he was working with you when you were in the government hospital – that you have many patients and will be able to help me. Please doctor, if you have some teeth give me.” She proffered a plastic bottle.

Without showing my disappointment and wistfully wishing Mr Parab was right, I told her that I did keep some extracted teeth but they were taken by a student who had visited me some days earlier. I assured her that I would keep some for her if I removed any good teeth and asked her to comeback in a week or two.

“But she wants few teeth urgently doctor. She is having a test.  Please give if you have any. I will pay you any price you want for them.” She opened her purse.

It was true that I was looking for someone to come and pay for my daily expenses but neither my finances nor morals were so bad as to sell extracted teeth to dental students. So, I told her that there is no need to pay for the teeth and that I would certainly keep aside some teeth for her daughter. I explained to her that the students need good teeth that are not decayed and nobody in their senses get good teeth pulled out. I told her that I will have to wait for someone to come with a shaking tooth or a wisdom tooth which is stuck half way and that they are not very frequent. I assured her that I would surely keep some if I removed any good ones and sent her off. She left dejectedly. She would have been happier and would have believed in my abilities to supply the teeth if I had quoted a price and asked for an advance.

Recently I have come across not less than half a dozen parents who have come in search of extracted teeth for their wards studying dentistry in other cities and at least half of them have offered money for the commodity. The very fact that people were offering money for extracted teeth indicate that there are dentists who have been ‘selling’ them. I know that there is a cut throat competition amongst dentists in some places and the practitioners are forced to offer their services for as low a fee as possible. They would certainly sell an extracted tooth if it can fetch them twice their fee for extracting it! Makes very good business sense. Never mind the image of the profession.

This situation is because of the mushrooming of dental colleges, huge increase in the number of seats and decrease in the number of patients per college.  In most of the colleges the students actually practice on plastic teeth and they get to work on a natural tooth only after they start their ‘clinicals’. That is, attending to patients. The number of patients in the colleges being less, they hardly get the required training. After this they spend a considerable amount to set up a clinic and struggle to survive. Still, the seats in the colleges are somehow getting filled. Is it the eagerness of the parents to get the prefix ‘Dr.’ in front of their children’s names or lack of other alternatives? I don’t know. The situation is disturbing and I feel bad about these students as well as my profession.

Are we going to see better days? Let us wait and watch. But from what I gather, we are not likely to get to sing “Happy days are here again!” in the near future.

Wildlife Around Me - Hornbills.

Silhouetted against the grey monsoon sky are my favourite neighbours, The Hornbills. They used to live deep inside the foliage of a tree little away from my house but now it appears that they have shifted closer. We used to hear them arguing amongst themselves in their harsh voice every morning but I had never seen them.  They seemed to be strictly following the saying “Hornbills are to be heard, not seen” just like, “Children are to be seen, not heard”. I had been trying to locate them from their call using my abilities of ‘shabdhavedhi’ but had only been successful in making a reasonable guess of the tree from which the noise was coming.

These days I see them occasionally on another tree closer to my house when they fly from one branch to another. My wife said that she once found one of them pecking at our windowpane and was forced to shoo him/her off and protect our property. Good neighbours, as long as they don’t break our windows.  May be they saw the sunbird and the robin doing it and thought that they would pitch in and help their friends in breaking the glass.

 Today I was lucky to find one of them sitting on a bear branch and with a clear background and rushed for the camera. It remained seated as if posing for the picture and I got a decent one considering that the bird was about 80 feet away and that I had to use the full zoom of my autofocus.  Only after transferring the picture on to the computer screen I found that I had got the spouse also! If you too have missed the second one at first look, check the fork right below for a curved beak pointing in the opposite direction.

Happy Monsoon !

I am not keen on celebrating birthdays and anniversaries. I like what the Kannada writer Beechi said when he turned sixty and people started congratulating him. “What is so great about turning sixty? Any stupid fellow who doesn’t die, will be sixty one day”. (“aravattaguvudEnu mahaa? saayadE  uLida yaava bhanDanigaadarU aaguttade aravattu!)

I do not celebrate the new year day, middle year day or the year end days, nor, father’s day, mother’s day or the dentist’s. They make no sense to me.

And I think there is really nothing to celebrate about Diwaali, Christmas or Ramzaan.

What I feel like celebrating is the onset of monsoon. At a time when we don’t know what is in store for us  - what with the mindless environmental abuse we are indulging in - I consider the onset of monsoon is an indication that mother nature has forgiven us yet another time.

Sometime during April- May, the water supply department starts giving out bulletins about the stock of water available in their reservoirs and how long it would last. That makes me fear what we would do if the rains are not on time and if we run out of water? I don’t know what they call the phobia of having to live without water but I have it. My anxiety levels increase with the decreasing levels of water in the reservoirs and when the monsoon sets in it disappears for another year. When I see the rain pouring, I feel like dancing. But I do not dance because, if I do, my family would start praying that it never rains again.

The monsoon is right on time this year and it started raining this morning. I like the sight of drops of rain falling from the sky and pouring out from the tips of coconut leaves. I like the sight of water drops on the papaya. I like the sight of water flowing between the flag stones and collecting in a puddle around the plants in my garden. If I were a poet I would write a poem every year (thank your stars that I am not) but I have to make do with a few drab words that are at my disposal.

So, HAPPY MONSOONS !  (For anyone who cares)

Fruit Trees - 1

Our papaya tree did yield two fruits at last. We had saved the seeds from a very tasty fruit given to us by a friend and had sown them. Resident ants of our garden loved the taste of the seeds and they finished most of the seeds. Out of the few seedlings that came up, three grew up. I planted them at three different places around the house. One died due to stagnation of water around the roots. Monkeys ate one sapling when it was about two feet high and very tender. I managed to save the third one and it grew at its own pace. It was nearly eight feet high and was flowering during last rains. One morning after a very windy and rainy night I found the tree lying flat on the ground. Since the roots were intact, I lifted it up and supported it with whatever was handy. Sticks, bricks and used car tyres to name a few. It survived the monsoon and another onslaught of monkeys and the flowers turned into tiny raw fruits. We eagerly waited for them to grow in size but one after the other they ripened and rotted overnight while they were still very small. To our relief, this phenomenon stopped on its own and some of the fruits grew in size. But they remained green even after they were quite large. I was observing them every day and when I detected (or imagined?) a very faint yellow shade in two of them I plucked those two in an attempt to prevent them from rotting on the tree and kept them separately hoping that they would ripen naturally. Nothing happened for three days and I was expecting them to dry up. To our great surprise they had silently turned  to a beautiful orange- yellow on the fourth morning reminding me of Mankutimma’s ‘Phala maaguvandu tuttoori daniyilla’ (Trumpets are not blown when the fruit ripens).

I was sure that the fruits would taste as good as they appear and they did. But better was the taste of success in nurturing the plant and getting the fruits in hand.  We had just finished the one that was cut and was about to go for the next when a friend of mine came along carrying some fresh vegetables he had grown in his field. He had been bringing us vegetables this season and we had nothing to offer him in return. The papaya came in handy. He accepted our home grown papaya with pleasure. Its feels nice to nurture a plant and get the fruit in hand but feels even better to offer the fruit to someone we like. “haNNu hanchi tinnu, hoovu koTTu muDi” goes the saying (share your fruits and flowers).

I have written about our chikoo, guava and plantains earlier and this papaya is probably the last, at least for the time being. We do have another two trees in our compound, the mango and the coconuts. Considering the rate at which the mango is growing, only the progeny beyond my great grandson/daughter may have some chance of tasting the fruit. One coconut tree has just started with the first flower and I do not know how long it takes for the flowers to turn into coconuts. People who are in the know about plants and trees (or think they know the plants and trees) say that the first flower of a coconut tree never turns into coconuts and they also say that I have made a mistake planting the mango and coconut next to each other. I believe both of them are highly ‘individualistic’ trees and will never thrive in the company of the other.

When my wife hears such observations about my mistakes, she whole heartedly approves their view adding that this house has as many mistakes as the number of bricks used in its construction. She also says  that if I can make a list of all my mistakes and put them on the blog, at least the blog, (on which I waste such a lot of time) would be useful for someone who intends planning his/her own house!

That apart, talking about the trees, I read somewhere that after we leave the house in which we grow up and set up a house of our own we tend to recreate the atmosphere of the one in which we lived as children. I do not know if it is so but when we found ourselves with some space around this house in which we could plant some fruit trees, the first tree that I thought of planting was the guava tree. Was it because the memory of the guava tree which was in front of our house in Bangalore and on which we have spent a considerable part of our childhood never fades away?

I would like to write about this guava tree and few others which were around our house in Bangalore. We have enjoyed their presence and they have many pleasant memories associated with them. But it would get really long. So, I will take my brother’s example of writing in pieces and save them for the next bit if and when I can make it. In the hope of continuing about our fruit trees I have named this ‘Fruit Trees - 1’.

IPL Match Fixing

I really do not understand why there should be such a hue and cry over the IPL match fixing. In our country everybody who can fix something fixes it. I fix teeth. The railway minister fixes positions in railway board. The law minister fixes CBI reports. The telecom minister fixes 2G, 3G or whatever. Our poor cricketers know only cricket and they fixed cricket. Probably they were just a few lakhs short for their next BMW bike or the Ferrari car. It is not their fault actually. Did anybody lodge a complaint? No. Our ‘aam aadmi’ was happy with IPL. He enjoyed Shahrukh khan’s dance, Katrina’s item and the cheerleader’s cheers. Why did the police have to butt in, bringing the last page IPL to the front page and rob poor Sanjay dutt of his rightful place?