After two long years of being unable to travel, finally saw a sliver of light at the end of December 2021. With overseas options made improbable, owing to that cumbersome testing process to establish one is corona-free, decided to let the mind find its freedom in travelling to my own home state.
The hand that moved me in this direction seemed to be that of destiny indeed! For three years, I have read and relished song after song in Sangam Literature for my podcast Sangam Lit and travelled from the comfort of my seat to ancient Tamil land – its mountains, forests, drylands, farms, and shores. Of all these regions, the mountainous landscape denoted by the Tamil term ‘Kurinji’ held the most fascination, for here were the richest descriptions of plant and animal life of all the regions, and numerous songs focusing on the somewhat happy phase of love at its origin. Geographically speaking, this region would denote the current day Western Ghats in the southern states of India. Of these different mountainous regions in Tamilnadu, I was fascinated by the region of Tirunelveli, for the celebrated Tamirabarani river originates and flows in this district of Tamilnadu. Incidentally, some scholars are of the opinion that the Sanskrit name ‘Tamirabarani’ and its ancient Greek counterpart ‘Taprobana’ originated from the Tamil name for the river – ‘Than Porunai’ meaning ‘cool toddy’.
Speaking of ‘cool toddy’, the first sight that filled my eyes on entering the boundaries of this district was the numerous wild palm trees. This tree is integral to Tamil civilisation for it was on the leaves of this tree that the writing of the ancient Tamil language began. Among its many uses, enough to fill entire books, there is one intriguing use for the palm tree that will resonate with pleasure-seeking youth. And, that is the toddy made from this tree. In fact, palm toddy is not just another alcoholic drink but is said to be non-addictive and one having numerous health benefits too. And yet, it has been banned by the government owing to the thoughtless action of a few in adding chemical additives that resulted in fatalities. But what if the government could take over and monitor the making of this toddy? Perhaps then, the ‘drinking citizens’ of the state, who queue up in front of Tasmac shops, shelling out their hard-earned money, by seeking out alien Western drinks, unsuited to their body composition, would instead turn to the liquor of the land. Instead of sourcing their liquor from factories manufacturing Western labels, why not restore Tamil pride here too, and make the Tamil ‘kallu’ as celebrated as the Japanese ‘sake’? Something for the Tamilnadu government to ponder upon!
Returning from this meandering into intoxicating territory to the central story of our travel, having decided on the mountains of Thirunelveli, and having found an airport in the neighbouring district of Thoothukudi, the next question arose as to where to stay. When I had almost decided the only option was to stay in the town of Thirunelveli in a hotel, luckily my husband found this ‘airbnb’ place that had a captivating catchphrase ‘Villa in the wilderness’ at Manimuthar. As this stay option was quite close to Manjolai hills, which we wanted to explore, I was instantly sold and couldn’t thank Madhan enough for finding this spot.
As the sun was setting, we arrived at this remote location after a two-hour drive on some of the bumpiest roads I have ever been on. The moment we entered this place, I felt every moment of hitting the car’s roof was worth it. For here was a stream running across in the path to the house and thick vegetation all around, dotted with delicious-hued flowers. When we arrived, we were warmly welcomed by the host Mr. Mohanram, who is a retired English professor, living ‘far from the madding crowd’, as he put it. A person who could discuss literature with me, engineering with my husband and video games with my son, with equal cheer and ease. He has built this place single-handedly – constructed electric fences, installed solar lighting and taught it to some natives there, and is currently involved in herbal soap manufacturing as a means of providing employment to the women of this region. A septuagenarian in age but a millennial in mind, conversations with him seemed like a fascinating travel unto itself!
The next day, we decided to explore the Manimuthar Dam, which was at a short distance away. From man’s engineering marvel, I glimpsed at the beauty of nature’s engineering in the mountains and the vastness of the river beyond. The word ‘Manimuthar’ meaning ‘a river of sapphires and pearls’ is a fitting tribute to the crystal clear white and blue waters of this river.
In the afternoon, we travelled to Thirunelveli, where friends had arranged for a visit to the famous Nellai Appar Temple, built in the 7th century ACE, a heaven for sculpture enthusiasts. We had the good fortune of having the learned company of an ‘Othuvaar’, a scholar in devotional songs sung in praise of God Shiva. He pointed out various sculptures of interest and narrated the mythical stories around the same. However, the highlight of his presence was his rendition of devotional songs in divine Tamil that seemed to strike against the pillars of the temple and reverberate with a richness of feeling. Marvelled at the intricacies of the statues, where the hanging ornaments happen to have perfect etchings not just on the front surface but also the hidden back end, sensed only by touch. Subtle facets like the nerves in the feet and bulge of the ankle were captured so life-like that one could sense the devotion in the artisan, not just to God, for whom he was creating this but to his profession. Another segment of the sculptures here that specially wowed were the horizontal sculptures on the ceiling of an entrance. Many a traveller would have looked up at the paintings in the Sistine Chapel ceiling and marvelled at Michelangelo’s skill, which came later. But here was an anonymous sculptor chipping away with precision and telling an upside-down story for those who would look up in awe, one day in the future. There is so much to wow and wonder here! I would like to put forth another request, this time to Tamilnadu Tourism, to have certain hours of the day for people from different corners of the world and of different faiths to relish these ancient masterpieces with proper explanations, in addition to the prayers and worship of the devotees that go on at other times. That way, true respect for ancient art would be accorded and these will be cherished not just by a few of one religion but the world entire, as glorious symbols of our common human heritage.
The next morning, we started early to Manjolai Hills, having secured the permission of forest officials. Manjolai meaning ‘a mango grove’ is now ‘a tea estate’. But before the tea plantations begin, there is so much of the wild mountain life that I have read about in Sangam Lit. As we drove past, the dense vegetation of varying types with ferns below, evergreen trees above, was a treat for the eyes. Rolling down the windows, I could sense the coolness and sweetness of this mountain breeze, kissing my face. It was green spa, wind spa and mind spa, all rolled in one. Stopping at points here and there, we walked a little inside to get a true feeling of the forest. At one point, thanks to my son’s sharp eyes, we spotted an exquisite black spider, with a jewel-like body, camouflaged into the darkness of the rock behind. It was a marvellous creature to behold. Some wild figs were hanging above, and a stone’s throw rained a few on the road. However, used to the sweetened tamed ones in the city, our biased mouths wouldn’t accept these wild offerings. Spotted many a ‘grey-faced langur’ and ‘peacock’ and it was like I was reliving my ‘Kurinji’ verses once again, but in real. I smiled to think that some things remain the same even after two thousand years and felt gratitude for whatever has made this possible.
In Manjolai, we visited a tea factory and had one of the best teas of my life – a cardamom-ginger delicacy that I can still taste in my buds. Shared a moment with the tea plantation workers, chatting with us in their practical work suits. They cautioned us about the leeches in some of the spots ahead. What could be a more touching blessing than the smile of such strangers? Up ahead, there were some boulders that seemed to beckon the rock-climber in us, and my son scaled it up in a jiffy like a little spider and I followed a little later with lesser grace. But sitting up there and sharing a laugh was a thrill indeed. Moving on from Manjolai, we came across three more estates – Kakachi, Naalumukku and Oothu. The highest point was Kuthiravetti Look-out, but the Forest officials said that we did not have the permission to go there, and so we returned. Just a word to the wise to future travellers to make sure you get permission to go up to Kuthiravetti at the entrance gate close to the Manimuthar Dam, even before you begin the ascent. One other way to ensure this is to stay at the government lodge at Kuthiravetti by booking at their site. Another visit one could do, is to go south and visit the Karaiyar Dam. But we gave up these sights and instead took a leisurely trip back down, pausing at a grassy meadow, where stood this stunning tree that mesmerised us. Walked on the grass and savoured the cool expanse of this place at Kakachi. Stopped once again at the rock face and attempted a climb up an even steeper rock there, to spend some moments of delight together.
Travelling down, had lunch at a spot near a stream, decked with bamboo trees, reminding me yet again of the Sangam verses that repeatedly talk about these wild bamboos, a favourite food of the elephants that inhabit this region. Found a stream nearby and decided to walk into it when Haiku shouted out seeing blood on my legs and sure enough a leech had done its work, possibly at the grassy meadow at Kakachi, and blood was pouring out. However, no trace of pain at all! Such painless surgery will surely interest scientists of the future in its application to medicine. Any way after wiping the red out, walked back to the car and when we were checking our shoes, as advised by the ladies at the tea plantation, found Madhan’s shoes crawling with a dozen leeches. Managed to shake these off and went our way, laughing about the blood donation made to nature.
As the Manimuthar Falls was not open owing to the intensity of the cascade, we stopped at a little fall, just ahead of the Manimuthar falls, on our return, and delighted in a taste of a wild bath in an unnamed little cascade. Close to the Manimuthar Falls, there was a Sastha Temple, and the statues there intrigued me a lot, for these had smiling South Indian faces with big moustaches that made me feel close to these Gods. A raw kind of religion I could sense, as opposed to the classy sophistication of the Nellai Appar temple. As I was admiring these man-made objects, Haiku was jumping about on some curious rocks, that had flowing pink lines on them. Rocks, being much older than humanity and their theories of religion, made me to look at them with a sense of awe. A geologist’s delight, no doubt! Exactly in the shade of the pink gold version of Apple laptops were these rocks, and the lines on them intriguing beyond measure. While I would have liked to sit there and marvel at the antiquity of these rocks, time beckoned for we needed to be out of the entrance before 6 pm and off we went, leaving the unforgettable scenes in this range of the Western Ghats, serene at having answered the call of the wild for indeed it was a homecoming. Wasn’t this the home to humans for millions of years before farming took us to the plains and cities?
The next day was a visit to Agasthiyar Falls, which has become too much of a tourist spot to endow any calm. However, a short trek up the falls, lets one glimpse the ‘Kalyana Theertham Falls’ and a Shiva Temple, squeezed in between a rock there. A ride to the Mundanthurai Tiger Reserve did not yield much excitement. Would have preferred a trek into the forest with the guidance of a learned forest ranger to appreciate the careless charm of this forest. Wish the Forest Department starts their nature trail walks to truly inculcate learning in the curious. After a somewhat down day and as our airbnb stay was coming to an end, decided to visit Kuthirapanjan falls the next day and leave to Thoothukudi.
Kuthirapanjan Falls was a mystery for none of the friends or people we met in Tirunelveli knew anything about this particular cascade, which is a great omen for a site to be visited. Thanks to some mentions on the internet, decided that this was the place we will try our luck at. Thanks to our Nellai Cabs Driver Natarajan, we found a native of this place, who has climbed the hills ever since he was so little. It was a fascinating experience walking with Raja, as he led us up the hills, stepping over rocks and gurgling streams. And he revealed the actual name and meaning of this Falls. Different people had called the falls as ‘Kutta Panjan’, ‘Kuthra Panjan’ and so on. Turns out it’s a beautiful Tamil name – ‘Kuthirai Paanjan’ which means ‘Leaps like a horse’, describing the pouncing motion of this special waterfall. The serenity of the place, quiet sounds of the river and birds chirping left a feeling of lasting peace within. As we were walking up the stream, there was a sound as if an elephant was approaching and when we turned in alarm towards Raja, he said it was only the ‘woofer’ sound, caused by some youngsters who were revelling close by. And I so wanted to ask them, why can’t you leave these sound-emitting devices at home and listen to the sounds of nature? Your songs and music will be there forever in their digital avatars but what about these sounds? How long will we let nature be? While it lasts, can’t you let those of us who want to enjoy it do so and why not try doing so yourself, to discover a new you?
Returning, from the mountains on the border of the Mahendragiri Reserve Forest, we drove on to the salt fields of Thoothukudi. From ‘Kurinji’, we travelled to ‘Neythal’, which is also a dominant landscape in Sangam poetry denoting the coastal regions. Here, I saw evidence of a trade that has been going on from ancient times. Salt merchants and barter was very much alive in the Sangam period as attested by many poems and yet again, the world outside brought the truth of this ancient literature alive before my eyes. We drove through the salt fields to reach a quiet resort called Aqua Outback, through bumpy roads on the beach. Note how bumpy roads seem to be a mandatory requirement for awesome places!
And awesome it was, with our cottage doors opening right into the sea! Even though it was but for a night, we managed to squeeze in a bit of kayaking to a little island in the lagoon, where I again saw pink streaks in the sand, which reminded me of the pink rocks near the Sastha temple opposite Manimuthar Falls. Could the Tamirabarani river have brought those very mountain crystals to the sea here? Then, at night, when we lay on our backs and gazed above, it made me wonder if we had travelled to some other planet for the sky was dotted with numerous stars that I never had the chance to see, at least in Chennai. Here, the air was so pure, or the sky was just right, the stars shined and made me muse on that famous line, ‘we are all star dust’ and felt one with the whole universe. The next morning endowed the glowing experience of watching our own life-giving star soar in all its orange glory over the Gulf of Mannar. A deeply spiritual moment, which extended as we dived into the sea on a snorkelling expedition to see brain-like corals and colourful fish dancing about. And that ended our travel, from the top of the Manjolai hills in Tirunelveli to the seabed of Thoothukudi, and all the magic of nature and culture to both relax and recharge the spirit within!
கண்கள் காணா இடங்களை இன்று இதயம் கண்டது! நந்தினி அவர்களே, தங்களுக்கென் நன்றி!
கேட்டு ரசித்து அன்பைத் தெரிவித்ததற்கு மனமார்ந்த நன்றி.
you could ve visited Manapad as well. its 15 km south of Tiruchendur and 50 Kms from Thoothukudi. try it next time.
Yes. There’s always next time 🙂