A Day When my Destination was Ooty

Best South Indian places to visit

There was a chill in the evening that besieged me for what an indirect friend’s initiative was. The girl who happened to be my ex-colleague met me in Bangalore and brought me to try an impromptu trip to a place I would rather prefer to go with my future spouse. But for the first time in my life, I was going on a trip without my family. A one day trip to Ooty.

Well, it was not just about exploring a tourist place. But about an overnight journey in a sleeper bus, wobbling across the zig-zag of hills, checking out hotels, taking care of my health, making decisions – all quick. That would be fun.

Whenever it comes to long distance travel, I get shaky in situations like riding in a bus along the narrow tracks of hills during the night. I can’t resist the unnatural worries which keep creeping up throughout the time. What if the driver gets sleepy or is distracted by something off the road? What if the opposite vehicle slips into our track and collides? What if the footlight of the bus goes faulty? What if the road turns sharply than the turning speed of the steering wheel? These are absurd but relevant questions which make no sense until you hear the shocking news of someone’s untimely fate. For me, it all seemed to matter since now I want to do so many things for myself. Now that I have awakened towards life, I feel like utilizing every minute to the best which in turn involves experiencing a lot of things, scribbling over them and sharing with people. So the most fatal thing for me would be the failure to do so. And death is the strongest reason which can bring all the plans to an ultimate end. Still, if it has to happen, I would need some time to give my last message to my family, tell them the credentials of my accounts, and the places which keep the diaries of my personal moments and feelings and my incomplete write-ups. I am sure they would love to read my story even more after it would have ended. It might be insane but that’s why such grim thoughts inevitably take over me. I don’t want to die all of a sudden, not without fulfilling my last rituals.

But sometimes it’s best to let go of the control of the steering wheel of life and face your fears. So keeping my clutter aside, I left my comfort zone with a girl too silent and sober to be called a friend. Her name was Niharika. The waiting at the bus stop lasted for an hour, making it sleepy during the night. I guess it was at around 11 pm when I was filled with the cozy feeling on the arrival of my night home – the bus. When we boarded, I was amazed to see the kind of tourist bus for the first time – mattress covered lower and upper berths with pillows and blankets. Mine was single upper one on which I climbed with much ease. The seat was an example of how they utilize the space in a long travel vehicle without compromising on comfort. On the foot side was a tray that hung to keep the baggage. The left side was entirely covered by the window while on the right were two rods that kept the passenger from falling. After you close the curtains, it becomes your private mini bedroom. Opposite to me was a double sleeper seat which seemed to make complete sense for couples.

I kept my food bags on one side and looked down on the road outside while lying in the bed. I never had this experience, but now could I tell that was amazing. Despite my concern of accident, I love to travel during the night time. Not that I specifically look at the outside view but it is more about the cozy feeling of being packed in a comfortable setting like a bus against the cold and darkness of night.

From the window, I loved watching the hustle and bustle of the Bangalore roads with my head resting on a soft pillow. The traffic, the weather, the people and the moving roads. Everything appeared in flashes like a movie playing in fast forward mode.

At one time, I was enjoying this experience so much that I wanted to tell my kin but later during the sleep, I would shake up at sudden brakes, turns or blaring horns of our speedy bus. It was more difficult when my body was turned to the left towards the road. The position in which my half-asleep mind would forget about the supportive rods on the edge and hence wake me up with shock. It happens.

***

When I woke up for another time, I checked my watch. It was 5:00 in the morning as I glanced a peek through the window with half lidded eyes. To my surprise, it was nothing but all white. A drizzle of water entered through the tiny space I allowed for the night breeze and struck my hand like a sharp needle. But the little sweet pain rejuvenated me with the onset of a rainy morning. Yes, it was raining here in Ooty, which I found challenging in a funny way for our lack of winter clothes.

When we got down the bus, an opportunistic autowala came over to guide us about nearby hotels while holding an umbrella above us. Within minutes, we were riding along the roads of Ooty with our heads covered under the stall and our bodies shivering at every gush of wind that struck our face through the gaps left by the plastic curtains.

Reaching the hotel, we booked our rooms and got ready for the outing – me in my newly bought blue gown and Nihrika in a casual red colored top and jeans. We bought a one-day tour package named ‘Pykara-Mudumulai’ and waited for the bus at the reception.

By this time, the weather had changed favorably. The fog had subsided by the sunlight which made everything look clear. Its warmth, penetrating through a rain-swept sky relaxed the tired body as we stepped outside the hotel.

In a while, the bus arrived with few passengers allowing us to choose the most comfortable seats. Niharika, as generous in these cases spared the window seat for me. Initially, the vehicle stopped frequently at several hotels to pick the passengers until it got fully packed. I guess they were all in pairs, couples specifically which was a silent slap on our singlehood!

The bus picked up speed as it wobbled left and right along the sharp curves in queue. As the vehicles in conflicting directions swept past with minuscule distance from our bus, I pondered over the fact why hilly roads are made so narrow while these are the ones that require to be extra safe.

We passed through what looked like a widespread land of grass with few conventional fittings. The golf club was uniquely known for the shooting of hum aapke hain kaun movie’s song ‘dik tana dik tana’.

The greenery of farmlands made a show in different shades and slopes. I realized the abundance of a rich variety of flora in Ooty in the form of dense forests strewed with tall trees, tea plantations on step farms and pine forests. We stopped at one as our first spot when the driver stood up for the first time and taking over the role of a guide, he introduced himself and described the schedule in Hindi followed by Kannada. To our little disappointment, he charged another 80 Rs from us over the fixed tour date of 350 Rs.

We were told that the pine forest was the same spot where Sajan movie’s song ‘mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai‘ was shot. We were spared fifteen minutes for the photo session. Niharika, without giving any importance to the driver’s words was early to disappear.   We used the best of time by saving the majestic view of tall pine trees on our phone galleries.

Then came the next destination – Kamaraj Sagar Dam. The first thing to come across was monkeys, lots of. Still, I dared to click their pics, which I later realized could be dangerous when one of them snatched away an eatable from a kid. Located 10 km away from the bus stand in the Wenlock downs in Ooty, the dam was spread over 400 acres and was another well-known shooting location. Unfortunately, the lake was marked closed but my heart truly raveled in the blue-green beauty of the water body that was calm and clear.

Moreover, nothing more is expected in a day trip than traveling down the roads and only touching the major spots that came on the way. In fact for a less traveled person like me, it meant more than that. I was excited and cheerful for everything that I was going to see during that one day as if a part of the different side of the world opened up for a very short duration.

Next, we landed on 9th miles – a landscape and shooting Spot of Raja Hindustani’s song ‘Poochho Zara Poochho’, a scene of movie ‘Raaz’ and Bombay’s Kuchi kuchi Rakma song. Well, the striking feature of the place was the beautiful snake-like shape given to the muddy pathway on the grass-covered hill. But soon, the swarm of school students filled the pathway obscuring the natural colors for photography.

We then discovered a horse riding campaign that offered 150 Rs for the half round of the hilly trek. Niharika seemed enthusiastic about what was something enjoyable to do for the time of twenty minutes allowed to us. I was game. Mine was a white horse, while she climbed on the brown one. Riding on the horse along the rough hilly slope was another nice experience that added to the day. The horsewalas took our pics and seemed to be in more hurry than us.

After we climbed down the horses, we walked up the hill to see the top view. Well, it was the place where greenery knew no bounds. The rest of the colors were added by people walking all over, some taking pics, some chattering, some relaxing. The distant mountains were hazy with white smoke of clouds separating them from a clear blue sky overhead. I felt like rolling down the grassy slope like a child but it was certainly not a situation to experiment.

Sarcastically enough, I left a small souvenir of my visit in the form of my newly bought white crystal watch that was missing from my wrist. I discovered later.

Next, the driver took us for boating to Pykara lake, this time for forty-five minutes. To save time, we all passengers split into two groups and went for a 10-seater boat each for a twenty-minute session. As we took seats in the motor boat, I saw all the four couples melting in the romantic embrace of the moment. They held their spouse’s hand while their face flashed the shades of blush. I could get their feelings and mood very well along with their ‘go-from-here’ gaze at me and my friend who looked nothing but intruders!

I could no longer wait to break the embarrassment in my usual interactive style. Before I could myself know, I had started an introductory round at the cost of their privacy. I asked them about their native places and told about ours adding that this sudden plan was made after we happened to meet at a common friend’s wedding in Bangalore. Their face was alight with a friendly smile. I felt amazing to be a part of the honeymoon troop. Only that I wished, if I could be one of them, romantically gazing into my partner’s eyes or looking away shyly. These are some of the sweetest gestures which to all my conscience, I knew I was missing.

I was not there to regret anything but to enjoy being with myself. The couples wanted to click each other’s pics from the other end of the boat. But the boatman refused for the risk of misbalance. I got an idea and offered them that I click their pics from their handsets. They handed over their phones to me and I clicked for them after which they also returned the favor to both of us.

I made a video in which I asked each one to say ‘hi’. I don’t know why I have this silly habit but I have no intention to get rid of it either!

By the time, we were over with the lunch, it was 4 pm. The Sun was going to sink in sometime marking the time for our last destination – Mudumulai wildlife sanctuary. We were to choose between safari by forest jeep for two hours and government cab for 45 minutes. Both at the same price of Rs 350/- per head. So we went for the most obvious choice – two hours in forest jeep. That was going to be my first safari ride and Niharika made it better for me by reserving a seat in the front.

As the safari ride started with five of us, we shared our longing to witness a lion in his natural habitat. My heart was taking leaps over the possibility of a wild lion or a giant elephant, or maybe a bear. Will they try to chase us, cross our way, or jump over us (in case they were hungry)? At that time, I really wanted something which I could call a big adventure.

The driver was driving the jeep slowly while our eyes were desperately roving around the dense forests stretched on either side to spot the animals which topped our priority list, in case they happened to come out of the bushes.

The first animal to show up was deer. I realised this animal, being very vulnerable to attack stays in group for protection. Its horns are too thin for defense. Hence, it humbly values the power of unity for survival. Then came peacocks which I later observed were ordinarily visible all along the way. I spotted a kingfisher and some more deers. Half past the journey, the exorbitant hopes to spot our priority list members started trailing down the peak. Now, even wild pigs called something of an achievement given that their shape and color varied from our native ones.

But keeping this animal hunt aside, I enjoyed traveling the forest roads during the time of the evening when everything seemed coming back to rest. The tired animals after the rigorous jungle activities of prowling, conspiring, hunting and eating would be going back to their dens, birds were flying to their nests and cows and goats were taken back to their sheds. The air was silent beckoning a zero activity time for the forest.

At the end of the 15-km one-way journey, our jeep stopped near a scenic view. We got down our jeeps and headed towards the small balcony which separated the small platform from the bottomless pit created by huge valleys on three sides. In front of us was flowing the Kalahatti waterfall from the Nilgiris. No words could explain the soft noise of the waterfall reflecting from the hills that surrounded our entire site of vision. It seemed like those tall mountains were aligned in a circular pattern only to create that deep valley where everything disappeared into silence. Deep silence. Instinctively, I breathed deeply to take in the savor of nature standing in front of me with open arms.
I can never forget the sight, nor the silence. Nothing.

During our journey back to the starting point, I noticed a guy in the back seat was asking numerous questions to the driver. He sounded polite and genuinely curious. From his conservation, I got to know that the forest area was spread over 321 sq. Mtr. Also, the driver told us that the place is deserted after 6 pm for the fear of wild animals. No private vehicle is allowed to enter the forests. Besides, at some intervals along the road, local police was available for human safety.

The Sun had become an orange ball of fading luminosity when we went back into our tour bus. It was the end of our one-day trip. Niharika showed a little disappointment over the bus-travel which was too much for today. While contradictorily, the two-hour return journey on the smooth hilly roads under the moon was a dreamy delight for me.

By now, the co-passengers who had accompanied each other during the quick visits to so many places had become familiar faces despite the unknown names. The one who was asking questions on safari and was now sitting in the front seat initiated a conversation with me. His name was Kunwar. We shared a brief introduction after which his curious questions were shot. I learned that he had brought his parents on Ooty tour who had come from their hometown Delhi to visit him in Bangalore. Like us, they had also taken a day off for Ooty trip. The boy had completed his bachelors precisely one and a half year ago was now going to switch his job to another service providing company. Learning that I was new to the city, he suggested me some good places to explore.

We were enjoying the cheerful talks, like the one about his resolve to plan a tour to a new place every month. Suddenly, the bus came to a halt. Considering that we were behind the schedule, the driver asked the three of them to shift to a cab parked nearby so that they don’t miss their bus to Bangalore. It was time to say a quick bye and wish a happy journey to each other.

In sometime, my destination too arrived – hotel Lake View. I entered my room – no. 11 and felt the chill of the weather taking over me. I covered my head by the stall and curled up under the warm layer of blanket. It was a homely feeling that smoothly sent me to a deep heaven of sleep.

Returning Back

The breakfast was delicious for a good variety of South Indian cuisine which left no oil seeping out on the plate. Besides, the dining place was clean and spacious where morning light entered through windows on two facing sides.

Following the information provided by the hotel receptionist, we boarded a local bus for Mysore where we planned to visit a few tourist spots before returning to Bangalore.
The bus was fine as per local transport standards. As indicated by the conductor, I occupied a middle seat next to a South Indian middle aged woman while Niharika took the aisle seat.

The lady boasted a pleasant way of smiling whenever we asked her anything. She didn’t know Hindi or English and we didn’t know Kannada but yet we communicated at various times. I have heard many people complain about the problems they suffer because of language barriers. But here, as well as in Ooty, I found it a hilarious experience to communicate through gestures. This made me realize that language of words doesn’t matter if a human soul can make a connection with another.

The woman’s name was Khanega (I still don’t know the meaning) and had two daughters, one married and one into studies. She was a local going to Mysore to meet her brother.

The bus stopped at a refreshment place at Gundlupet, one hour away from our destination. I and Niharika got down and entered the restaurant. Honestly, this was another surprising example where Delhi was defeated in terms of cleanliness of public toilets which were as clean as new in this place. I think the sense of hygiene of localities has a lot to do with the aesthetic value of its city. Delhi, my hometown is really good in terms of education and standard of living and is undergoing large-scale development in every aspect. But delhiites, including me, still try to use the most of what is available and hesitate to contribute to anything that might take extra time, money or effort.

It made no logical sense but I had an instinctive feeling that Khanega would be outside waiting for me. The holy surprise was mine. She was there with her characteristic sweet smile. Throughout the four hours long journey, she turned out to be a kind lady who gave me a nice company when Niharika was snoring most of the time. The spell ended in another hour when our bus stopped at Mysore station. It was a hard feeling to bid her bye without any numbers exchanged or a promise to meet again. I suppose that is what every journey is all about – momentary interactions which create everlasting memories.

We headed towards the bus stop with a heavy bag hanging on my back and my winter shrug and stall on one shoulder. The weather here was contradictory to that in Ooty which left us with a load of extra stuff. The clothes which were not enough for Ooty’s fog were now making our bodies sweat. Now that was irritating given the fact that there was no place to remove the extra layer of clothing. Plus, we were tired from the combined effect of yesterday’s trip and the four-hour long journey (during which we could barely move). And now this scorching heat and our heavy luggage were too much to handle. But the reminiscent of enthusiasm was lurking inside our cheerful hearts to make the best use of limited time before we returned to Bangalore in a few hours.

The interim time limit allowed only two places. We hailed an auto for Mysore palace after which we would visit the Zoo – our last destination. But the autowala told us that it was the lunch break for both the places. We were disheartened and it made no sense when he insisted to drop us at the silk market. So we asked him to take us to a nearby restaurant, where we could fill our empty stomachs and wait for the palace to open.
He was adamant and dropped us at a silk store which we could understand was one of his commission points.

We spotted an eating place a few feet away. It was an amazing pure vegetarian restaurant where we enjoyed veg pulao fried in desi ghee. Only that I regretted my choice of beverage since their salted lassi was nothing different from a thick paste of curd which I gulped slowly with so much of struggle. Now what my overly filled stomach wanted was to reach hotel soon and sleep in the soft cozy bed.

We were in time to visit Mysore palace. Passing by one of the counters, I enquired about the lunchtime. ‘There is no lunchtime’ came the reply. This made me think that even if common people’s attitude may vary with region, it’s not the same for tourist places where outside people are easy dupes.

Besides, the palace was so crowded on Sunday. If we decided to enter the palace after jostling through the crowd, we would certainly miss our train which our tired bodies could not afford. So we did the wise thing and left for the railway station. But I bought a souvenir from the palace. It’s a wooden fan made of sandalwood. Whenever I would open it, the fragrance of sandal would remind me of everything about the day – Ooty’s morning chill, the delicious breakfast in the hotel, the curvy roads we traveled for four hours, the greenery of fertile lands, the sweet smile of Khanega, the clever autowala, the Mysore palace, its heat and Niharika who had become a good friend by now

This all mattered to me and would remain as a part of my sweet memories of life as if so many episodes played out really fast in a small time.

We took an express train and sat cross-legged in an AC sleeper, chattering away about the events of the day and the photos we clicked.
We were two and a half hours away from Bangalore which meant the whole day was dedicated to travel. But, this journey was far more comfortable than the bus, now when I could relax in the comfortable sleepers under the AC with its sobering wind massaging my eyes.
It was a comfortable nap, I wish could last longer. But the journey had to end when the destination came – Bangalore. It was nothing less than a homely feeling as my tired body snuggled against the soft mattress to which my body had become familiar over the last three days.

Best South Indian places to visit 

Want to read a similar topic (Best South Indian places to visit )? Go to Story: Trapped

Find Best South Indian places to visit Articles

Join me on my facebook page