Escape to Paradise

Like a fairy tale land described in children’s books, Yelagiri is a place on earth where the stars shine bright and the path is lit by moonlight. The only sound you hear is the rustling of the leaves when the wind plays with it and the croaks of frogs. The crushing of red sand under your footsteps makes the dogs bark. The tingling of cowbells completes it all. No boundaries, no restrictions. Nothing could be more perfect.

Coming from a highly commercialized city, Delhi, my friend Ruhi and I had only read about such un-invaded beauty in Ruskin Bond’s novels. Situated amidst four mountains of the Eastern Ghats in Tamil Nadu, Yelagiri is a paradise for trekkers and heaven for romantics.

After scaling the breath taking 14 hairpin curves carved out on a hill, we reach the Yelagiri hilltop. Situated at a height of 920m above sea level, Yelagiri is one of the quieter hill-stations of this state. As we drive uphill, the magnificent view only gets better. With dense, tall eucalyptus tree on one side and the deep downfall on the other, I could feel my pulse rising.

The scenic beauty of this place can be best relished by traveling by road, so the two of us zeroed down on taking a bus. With the wind blowing in our faces and the rickety vehicle swerving at every curve as it scaled the single lane road, an indescribable mixed feeling of fear and exhilaration persisted.

The easy-paced life of this cluster of villages inhabited by the tribals, the originals of Yelagiri, can be easily sensed. With mostly bicyclers and pedestrians seen on the smooth tarred road, the only polluting vehicles spotted there were the private busses and the SUVs. Small road side food and tea stalls line the sidewalk with few concrete shops. A dominating red bricked police station, right opposite the tourist information centre is hard to miss.

As we stride uphill, the shops become scarce and the tarred road gradually narrows down to a muddy path. Small stretches of paddy amidst wild bushes and fallen trees, fenced with barbed wire and granite stone, signals the existence of humans in the area.

Stationing our bag packs at the YMCA camp, and filling our bellies with light rice and rasam, we decided to take a stroll around the campus at mid-night. As the glowbugs decorated our path, we walked down the red sandy slope, anxious, scared and awed.

The continuous hissing sound of the night and the dim yellow light from the bugs flying from one bush to the other was rather spooky. The falling branches from the still trees and the grim shapes of the dark clouds reminded me of all the childhood ghost stories. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind, “Don’t go near the trees at night, evil spirits live on them.”

My mind was repelling my heart. Ordering my body to turn around this very instant and hide in the safe concrete room of the hotel. But the rebel heart won. With the eyes wanting to capture more, the footsteps did not stop.

Hiding my goose bumps under my thin pale jacket in the cool of the night, I turn around to Ruhi who was happily bending, almost falling, over a bush to take a closer look at a tiny creepy glowbug.

A bleak scratching and huffing sound caught my already up antennas. I swing around to see nothing at all. I dug my stone cold fingers in my friends arm. No more bothered to conceal my fears, I signaled her to RUN!

Straining her eyes my friend saw a baby pig scratching its back against a log of wood. Well, my flushed face was the reason for her loud laughter for the next two hours.

As the sun rose from behind the sturdy mountains the next morning, we stood there with our jaws dropped at the splendid scenery. The unpolluted air filled our senses. Yet another laid-back, relaxed day welcomed us.

About six-seven kilometers down the hill from the YMCA camp is Yelagiri’s famous boat park. Bubbling like kids on their first ride at the Merry-go-round, we jumped into a bright blue paddle boat. Pushing the paddle and turning the metal bar for changing directions, we circumferenced the wide lake. Our half-an-hour ride for Rs.50 got over in less than twenty minutes as all our excitement washed away in straining to rotate the paddle. Huffing and puffing, we somehow managed to complete one round of the lake. But our over-exercised aching calves did not complain after the sight of huge lotus flowers sprouting from the edge of a tiny grassy patch in the lake.

After all the labour, our growling stomachs pulled us towards food. With hardly any shops or restaurants, the best food available in Yelagiri can be found at the shadiest places. Under tiny sheds and open kitchens, we did not even think twice as we hogged like dogs on our yummy meals and fried fish. The unadulterated taste of the fruits, brought directly from the thick forests and sold at negotiable prices on the roadside, is priceless.

Yelagiri has a huge Muslim population and Hindi is often spoken by them. Much to our surprise, several small shops and businesses in Yelagiri are owned and run by women.
From honey production and packaging to managing small tea shops, women take the lead. Thanks to the various Self Help Groups that give the much needed opportunity to the women in various fields. One of the many SHGs in Yelagiri won the award for the best SHG in Tamil Nadu for 2008.

Licking the sweet mountain fresh honey, we stroll down the only road and reach the tourist information centre. If all the boat paddeling was not enough, for Rs.30 an hour, we hired two bicycles to ride around the place. Humming our own tunes and balancing on two thin wheels, we could smell the fresh breeze while riding down the slope. The steeper the slope, the more difficult it was to ride the bicycle up the same slope. Dragging the cycle more than paddling it, we stopped in the middle of the road every five minutes to point and gape at things so new to us. Midway teas and snacks at the shadiest places gave the final touches of perfection to the whole trip.

Zero pollution, zero crime rates, no internet, no mobile phones and no deadlines. The rawness of the place grips you. With strangers passing gentle smiles and government officials giving away bicycles without filling forms, you sometimes wonder if this poor man’s nirvana is a fragment of your imagination.