People
usually, ask why some like to travel alone, but, I would ask why most people
don’t. There are few things in life that can be enjoyed only in absolute
solitude. Solo trips are one of such kind. While traveling in a group has its
own charm, solo travels fill the inner souls. As an active doer of both, I can
easily say, one cannot be looked over the other. All of us deal with our crisis
mostly by ourselves all the time, but we never acknowledge how brave we are for
waging our own battles, but, in solo trips, one could instantly acknowledge
their courage and presence of mind for dealing crisis in a minute-to-minute
basis and nevertheless making the best out of it. From finding places to visit,
stay, eat and having proper time management or addressing the lack of it,
solo trips teach us life skills in the most intriguing way. There is a power in
extending our boundaries by ourselves. So, if you haven’t been to one, get
started already. You may not even need to have an elaborate itinerary to start
with. Plan for short trips, like this one, my one day getaway to Mysore.
I don’t
remember how many times I have been to Mysore with my family as a child. But
this time is different. I’m all by myself. I could not help but wonder how far
life has come!
Knowing
my inability to wake up in the wee hours that too in the comforting weather booked my ticket for 7’ o clock train. Basically, all reserved coaches in all
the trains from Bangalore to Mysore are open for unreserved passengers. However,
I booked my berth to stretch and sleep to compensate the hours I missed in the
morning. Being an ardent fan of ‘Bounce’ travel in Bangalore, pre-booked a bike
with ‘Bounce’ in Mysore too. Bounce is the easiest choice if you need a bike.
They operate directly from the Railway station and Bus stand, saving you time
and energy to locate them elsewhere in the city.
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| Source: Internet |
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| Mysore Palace |
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| Mysore Palace |
My
second stop was Jaganmohan art gallery. Contrary to popular belief, the palace
and the gallery is a private property still being run by Ms. Pramoda
Devi of the Wadiyar
clan. I thought it would be yet another art gallery, but, was quietly surprised
seeing the renovated gallery catching up with technology. They issue free audio
guides to the visitors to play the description of any artifacts in the gallery.
Finally, I was able to properly envision how Robert Langdon from ‘Origin’
roamed around the museum listening to a Quantum computer. The gallery is one of
a kind and a couple of hours should be reserved to enjoy it fully.
My next
destination was to an offbeat village 38kms from Mysore called Somanathapura,
at the Kaveri banks which houses the Kesava Temple of Hoysala Period i.e 12th
century. I drove amid beautiful landscape and soothing weather. The drive was a
cakewalk for an average city dweller frustrated by traffic and pollution. The Kaveri
River and farmlands welcomed with open hands throughout the drive. Enroute I
filled my tummy with a yummy meal at a roadside Dhaba. Once arrived, the
Hoysala’s trademark way of building the temple on a 3 ft high pedestal welcomes
majestically. The intricate works of Hoysala architecture are not to be missed
by anyone. The detailed carvings and sculpting skills of the Hoysalas would put
anyone to shame. Though some parts are slightly damaged, the elegance is
unparalleled. There are 3 deities in the premises of the temple. And also a
walkway around the temple made of architecturally and structurally sound
pillars arrayed perfectly. Minimum one must require an hour to bask in the architectural
marvel for which the temple stands testament. The temple is in the tentative
list of UNESCO Heritage sites and I cannot wait for this totally deserving
entry to be included already.
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| Kesava Temple, Somanathapura |
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| Kesava Temple, Somanathapura |
The
next stop was a tedious ride of 52kms to the Brindavan Gardens, the first 35kms
were quite easy going back enjoying the marvels of Kaveri. But, later I started
feeling tired. There was mild but not threatening rains. I arrived at the
Gardens by around 6’ o clock. While I was wandering at the south side of the
garden, rains started picking up slowly. I halted under a tree to let the rain
subside, but, it did not. After some time I braved the rain and walked to the
north side of the garden where the Musical fountain is usually scheduled. As a
kid, I thought it was a big one, but, now it felt somewhat little to me. The
rain slowed down a bit but picked up soon. The fountains danced to ‘Vande
Mataram’ and some regional songs finishing off with ‘Sare Jahan se acha’ amid
cries by the patriotic citizens. One of the interesting observation while Vande
Mataram by ARR was played, the audience was singing the same in different
regional languages. India is indeed a country of diversity.
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| Brindavan Gardens |
I
decided to leave by 8.00 P.M after a coffee break. The railway station was
20kms away and the maps stipulated a half hour to reach. It was raining
steadily. With no signals of it subsiding, I decided to brave the rain and
drive. The roads I took still scare me. Up to anyone’s common knowledge, the
roads from a most sought tourist destination to the city Junction should be
well maintained and safe, but this one was a joke. Literally a slap on the
face. Half the route I could not even find any street lights. My bike’s
headlight was the only light guiding me in the pitch dark. The roads were
highly damaged and almost deserted except for a few vehicles. With the rains
constantly blinding and drenching me mercilessly, I was focusing just to avoid
potential skidding and increase my risk factors already at alarming levels. There
is this famous quote from ‘Man’s search for meaning’,
“Those who have a ‘Why’ to live can survive any Hows”.
I could not help but go WOW at how this stands
meaningful even in the tiniest hurdles we come across in life. My goal was to
just make it out of it safely. No rains or thunderstorms or the strangeness
around could stand a chance before my existential crisis. (The next day I was
standing on my terrace with a roof over my head and watching the rains, I found
myself shivering even with jackets on. It is funny how the human mind and body copes
up with the situation.)
After endless lefts, rights, and straights by the
navigation, the Railway junction was finally there, after an hour-long struggle.
I dropped my bike at the same spot and waited for the rain to subside. There
was no hint of it and I realized the longer I stand there drenched, the more
are my risks of getting sick. I searched the station for any clothes shop.
There was none. I thought I could find some at least around the station, but, being
Sunday night, most of the shops were shut early. I kept walking hoping for some
kind of luck. I asked a policeman who said there might be some in the direction he
pointed. I kept walking believing something might show up. I badly needed an
ATM too as I had run out of cash already. Thinking which one I would find
first if at all there is any in the vicinity, I kept walking until I spotted a
MORE supermarket with an ATM. I did a mental happy dance for the sweet
surprises life always offers me at any crisis. I purchased joggers and a t-shirt
and took an auto back to the station where I changed into my new dry clothes.
When I look back, the trip could not have been
adventurous if not for that fear struck drive and rains. Otherwise, it would
have been an ordinary trip with things going as planned. Exploration is more
fun when there are risks associated to overcome. Like Mark mason quotes in ‘The subtle art of not giving a fuck’,
“To be happy we need something to solve. Happiness is therefore a form of action”…
and
what else than a trip could give us more things to solve and be happy?
Here’s
to more such meaningful problems…
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