Travel: National Geographic Traveller, Mananthavady

The forest has its secrets

This article was originally published in the launch issue of the National Geographic Traveller magazine, India.July 2012

The forest is omni-present, whichever way you choose to approach Mananthavady in Wayanad district, Kerala. On one side is Muthanga, a wildlife sanctuary with teak trees, giant bamboo, swamps and tall grass that merge into Bandipur and on the other are Nagarhole ( Rajiv Gandhi National Park ) and Tholpetty. While there are more than enough slick holiday resorts tucked into the forest beside its sky blue lakes, I am looking for the mythic `Vayalnad’ (land of paddy fields ) that exists beyond the four walls of a holiday home, waiting to be explored.

Wash away your sins in a forest pool.

For those coming in from the Tholpetty Wildlife Sanctuary side, the Thirunelli Temple is on the way to Mananthavady. Said to have been built by Lord Brahma, it sits atop the misty blue Brahmagiri hills where stone relics were discovered in 1947 and later carbon dated to as far back as 1500-100 BC.  From the stone aquaduct installed by a Nayanar queen near the temple, you can walk down to the purple lotus blossoms in the Panchatheertham ( five channels ) tank where the Shanka-Chakra-Gada-Padma-Pada of Vishnu are carved into a rock. A quick dip in the Papanasini, a pretty forest pool fed by a rivulet further uphill, absolves one of all current sins while ancestral rites and the immersion of ashes go on all day. At the Thirunelli Temple, I discover a Bamboo Rice Payasam that is truly a gift from the Gods. It is made with jaggery and the extremely rare Bamboo Rice that is harvested only once every six years.

Between Thirunelli and Mananthavady lie Pakshipathalam, the Iruppu Falls and the Kuruva Island, where trekkers can spot a wide variety of birds, animals and rare plants.

Notes : Open from 5:30 am – 12.30 pm /5:30 pm – 8:30 pm. 31 km from Mananthavady  Take the deviation near Kattikulam. Some temples require men to take shirts off in the precincts.

 Pay homage to a hero

Wayanad is also where the Pazhassi Raja ( Kerala Simham ) a dashing figure with heroic attributes was born into the western branch of the Kottayam dynasty. He spent his life fighting the Mysore army under Tipu Sultan from 1773 to 1790 and then the British till his death in 1805. The shadowy forests of Wayanad offered the perfect cover for the guerilla warfare techniques he employed, emerging and dissolving into the mist only to reappear and launch a stealth attack on the unsuspecting enemy. Wayanad is like that. It allows you to be visible to others, or silently disappear into yourself at will.

But the mighty warrior king who once freely roamed the forests with his tribal Kurichiyar followers now sleeps quietly under the Pazhassi Kutheeram, a memorial in Mananthavady, a small town with a bustling market and curious, friendly people who are always eager to know who you are and where you came from. The Museum here has a few artefacts, coins, information about Wayanad’s history and letters from British officers complaining about him and his daredevilry.

Notes : Open from 10 am – 1 pm / 2pm - 5 pm.

Somehow my to-do checklist becomes a mere formality.  I find that Mananthavady determines the schedule and sets the pace. It is no different anywhere else in rural Kerala.

Hobnob with the locals

A little later in the day, I try to keep up with 87 year old PP Krishnan Iyer as he skips nimbly like a mountain goat through a tour of his neat little Tamil home with its open courtyard, red oxide floor, low rooms, steep stairways and dark wooden beams. Maami’ ( aunt in Tamil ) makes piping hot black coffee while Mama tells us about his ancestors, the Tamil Brahmin Iyers from Thanjavur who migrated here over 250 years ago to serve as cooks for the royal family of Kottayam. It is hard to believe that we have met them only fifteen minutes ago.

He lives in the Paingatteri Agraharam, a quaint little settlement of about thirty five old houses in Mananthavady that are built in the traditional Tamil row house style. While curious neighbours only gawked at strangers, Mama went one step further and invited us right into his home with great gusto. “ Would you like some coffee ? “ he said as he ushered us into his home.But then Mananthavady has a large heart.

The Korome Mosque

This is reinforced at the atypical Korome Mosque. Minus the traditional Saracenic minarets, it has the graceful roof of a Nair tharavad, with beautiful carved and painted woodwork on the façade and within. ”Ladies not allowed “ says Ustad Faisal regretfully, as he shows the men around. The fact that they are not Muslim does not disturb him just as Mama was completely unperturbed at the sight of me sitting in his kitchen, sipping out of his stainless steel glass.

While there are various conjectures about the origins of this approximately 250 year old building, Faisal and Ayub who show us around confirm that it was always a mosque, built by an Athillan Pappan who had a distinct, local style. At this point Athillan Ayub asks “ Would you like some tea in my family home ? “

Hospitable Mananthavady triumphs again. I am introduced to his family and heritage home over steaming `Suleimani chaya ‘ with a dash of lemon. ` This house was also built by Athillan Pappan, “ he says, showing us Pappan’s signature inscribed in Arabic in a corner. 

Notes :Visit anytime between 10 am and 5 pm. Ladies not allowed inside.23 km from Mananthavady town, via Kakody. Dress modestly.

Enjoy local cuisine

Heading into the soft Mananthavady sunset filtering in through the impossibly slim Areca, coconut and squat Banana plantations, I remember the batter fried Pazam Pori‘ ( Vazhapazham banana fritters  ) and Sukiyam ( dumplings stuffed with a sweet golden gram paste ) served with milky Coorg coffee at Gonikoppal earlier this morning. That was when I figured the weekend was going to turn out just right. 

People are eager to talk, generous with information and constantly invite us to their homes for tea when we stop to ask for directions. A boy at the India Coffee House in Mananthavady (where we found a delicious meal of chicken, fish curry, rice, Kalan, Kadle Curry and Banana Flower poriyal  for lunch) tells us his brother is a Kalaripayattu martial artist and tries to arrange for us to see a practise session.

Look the Devi in the eye

Long evening shadows are soon chased away by the Nelluvillakku ( metal lamps ) in the mystical ValliyoorKavu Temple just outside Mananthavady. The Kavu ( sacred grove ) contains an Ashoka tree that is special to the locals who believe Sita once sat under it. The Ramayana motif runs rife through the area, bridging the short distance between myth and reality. 

But right now the evening belongs to Vana Durga, the presiding deity who shimmers with an intense energy in the light of the oil lamps. At dawn she is worshipped as the Jala Durga and in the afternoon as Bhadrakali. The Namboodri says that she has existed here in her manifested form ( a smooth stone )  as far back as the Dwaparyuga and that the temple gets its name from the `Valli ( creeper ).The temple is also frequented by Kerala’s tribal people -  groups such as the Paniyars, Kurumas, Adiyars, Kurichyars, Ooralis and Kattunaikars whose lives are full of folklore, ancient rituals and forest Gods with an emotional spectrum that ranges from benign to malevolent.

Notes : 5:30 am – 12.30 pm / 5:30 pm – 8:30 pm. 5 kms from Mananathavady. Festival season : February/March.

Get a taste of rural life

The Bamboo Village is a homestay programme in Thrikkaipetta where Mary and her husband Aldo along with others in the village have opened out their no fuss homes to guests. The project is managed by Uravu and Kabani, organisations working in the area. The Uravu store makes fine bamboo products and one can also take back the essence of Mananthavady -  coffee, vanilla, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, healing oils and other herbs/ spices at throwaway prices in the market.Guests get to tap rubber, plant paddy and share socio-religious aspects of village life. A portion of the income goes towards the village development fund.  At the Bamboo Village, you get to spend the morning lazing, chatting, eating fruit and meeting local people while coffee beans lie toasting in the sun.

Tap into primal nature

After Mary’s homecooked breakfast of delicious Idli’s, Puttu and black coffee,  it is time to attempt the steep climb to the pre-historic Edakkal Caves where ancient man first made a mark in these parts. The pictorial inscriptions are said to go as far back as 8000-6000 BC but these simple expressions of long forgotten men and women are still clearly defined. The cave has a quiet energy. I feel a powerful connect with the past as I sit here quietly up in the bowels of Wayanad.

“There’s nothing in Wayanad except the forest “ everyone said before I left Bangalore. But thats because they never went looking for Wayanad in the forest.

Notes : Edakkal entry ticket :  Rs. 30/- per person Via Ambukuthimala, Ambavayal.

Between Thrikkaipetta and Ambavayal ( from Kalpetta ) visit:

Pookote Lake ( 5 kms )

Chembra Peak :17 kms

Kanthanpura Falls : 22 kms

Heritage: The Hindu Newspaper, Bangalore

Built to resemble an idyllic English borough with `squares’, quaint monkey top bungalows and conservancy lanes, Frazer Town (or Mootocherry as it was called until 1858), managed to retain its indolent air and passion fruit trees even after the real estate boom caught up with Bangalore East. Re-named in 1910 after Stuart Frazer, tutor to Maharaja Krishnaraja Wodeyar, it found itself being called Pulikeshinagar in 2007, a name that continues to be ignored by both local residents and city auto drivers.

But while the area grappled with change, its memories found refuge in aPaulogy, a Gallery of Curious Illustrations and humorous anecdotes that sits snugly in a little corner near Richards Park. Owned by wellknown cartoonist and illustrator, Paul Fernandes, aPaulogy is a must visit when in the area. It showcases an incomprehensible, quirky Cantonment culture through tongue-in-cheek watercolours, line illustrations and Shineboards that have had Bangaloreans chuckling for over a decade.

The journey back to the 70’s and 80’s begins at the window, where a moustached policeman of yore stands scowling in his famous starched khaki shorts. Inside the brightly lit studio-gallery are detailed watercolours with famous city landmarks and endearing characters, as well as familiar vignettes from Frazer Town itself-a jam at the Frazer Town under bridge, Everest Talkies that only showed English movies till not too long ago, Dewars Bar with its `veshti’ clad waiters and Thom’s Bakery on St. Johns Road that stocked the most wonderful Christmas`kul-kuls’ in town. The memories can also be taken home as posters, framed prints, post cards, coasters and books  like ‘On a High Note' - a slightly inebriated introduction to Western music.

The Frazer Town of Paul’s childhood was a quiet neighbourhood with a skyline dominated by the St. Xavier’s Cathedral and St. John’s Church, the `Sigapoo Oosimatha Koil ‘ or `Red Church’ as it was called.  A Coke could be bought for 70 paise at AM Café, one of three on Mosque Road. “There were only twelve houses with large gardens around Richards Square, so we all knew each other and met nearly every day. The Bangalore East Railway Station had engine drivers who became friends. We got grease from the engines for our bicycles when they stopped here. It was a peaceful, happy, tree filled area that influenced not only my life and work but everyone who lived here.”

The glimmer of an aPaulogy began over six years ago when Paul’s own home nearby gave way to an apartment building. “You could see the loss in terms of sheer beauty and aesthetics and that it really wasn’t a better thing. I decided it was worthwhile trying to record memories rather than architecture. Just happy, positive memories that the city was known for. I didn’t want to tamper with them by bringing in negative thoughts and present day cribs and curses.” Ever since aPaulogy opened on Dec 21, 2011, younger generations have also discovered a conduit to the Bangalore they had only heard about but never seen.

APaulogy is not a sentimental ode to a Bangalore that was. Instead, it shows us how the city and its idiosyncrasies can be viewed with an indulgent eye and a wide smile. Perhaps that is because in this sunlit, leafy corner of Frazer Town, somehow, the glass always feels half full. 

Original article published in The Hindu newspaper on July 5th, 2013

City beat: ichangemycity, Janaagraha

Three ways to one destination- Part II

Aliyeh Rizvi sets off on Phase II of our project – evaluating different ways to get to one destination (Cunningham Road – MG Road) and how convenient or people-friendly they really are. This week it’s public transport – the BMTC Bus.  

It’s 3:50 pm on a weekday and I’m standing here at the CSI bus stop on Queen’s Road, near the Veterinary Hospital, waiting for a 295, 300 or 302, which ever arrives first. There is no information on routes or timings at the bus stop but there are plenty of advertisements. Evidently, revenue precedes the need for critical public information. At 4:05 pm, a blue and white BMTC bus that has evidently seen better days shudders to a halt and I hop in, happy to finally be on the 300 and on an adventure into the hazy, crazy world of public transport in Bangalore.   

I pay the conductor Rs 4/- for a ticket.There are only 15 people on the bus. But a few hours later, this bus will be full of people anxious to beat the traffic and reach home on time. The bus stops at the Queen’s Road junction signal. The Indian Express building looms large as we lurch sharply towards the left and turn into Meenakshi Koil street, heading down to Shivaji Circle. In Tamil, Meenakshi means ‘fish-eyed’ and Koil is ‘temple’. Two minutes later, I sail past the vibrant yellow façade of the Sree Dandu Mariamman Temple, dedicated to the fish-eyed Goddess Mariamman,  an incarnation of Sakthi, the consort of Lord Shiva. The location of the temple is significant. 

In 1898, Shivajinagar (then called Blackpalli) was the site of a terrible plague which claimed over 12,000 (T P Issar, The City Beautiful) lives. Temples were immediately built to invoke Mariamman, the ‘Plague Deity’ who protects her people against viral diseases like smallpox, measles and chickenpox. Her symbols are the Margosa (Neem) tree and leaves, turmeric and rain, all possessing cleansing properties. The mass migration to the city outskirts during the plague also resulted in the creation of the early suburbs ( Basavanagudi and Malleswaram) and the development of a formal city sanitation plan.

 The bus rolls past an old Unani and Ayurvedic medicine shop and tea houses selling the famous Suleimani Chai. The conductor finally shouts ‘Shivajinagar!”  It’s 4: 10 pm. I now need to walk in to the Shivajinagar Bus Stand and look for 331-A to get to MG Road. The city route map on a wall is helpful except that South Bangalore, an entire section of the city, has been wiped out by the flick of a wrist! The Canara Bank ATM is right next to the Shree Ganesh Upahar, in case you need to stick around here for a while. The route information at each bay is in Kannada, but the bus numbers are in English. You might therefore, need to know your bus number beforehand.

4:45 pm :Many buses have come in together so there’s a bottle neck, with much honking. I hop impatiently into a bus – 335E en route to Adugodi – which is a gleaming red, air-conditioned Vajra. Popular Kannada movie tunes provide a pulsating welcome. The seats fill up slowly and people poke their heads in constantly to ask where the bus goes, despite the information being right above their heads on an LED scroller. The ticket costs Rs 10 to MG Road, a bit expensive for daily commuters, but the bus is extremely comfortable. If there were better feeder services in the suburbs and route or timing information at bus stops, I would relinquish road rage, potentially high BP levels and repetitive stress injury risks (ankle and knees) for ever.

4:55 pm : Back at the Indian Express junction heading past the Parsi Fire Temple. A left at Minsk Square onto Cubbon Road  and we are at the BRV Theatre junction in no time. Sitting at the same height, I get to lock eyeballs with traffic constable Shivarajaiah, BCP 3617, in his booth.

 BRV Theatre bears a striking similarity to the Bible Society ( once the Blighty Tea Rooms)  building on MG Road with the same dressed stone, top battlements and gabled roofing with pinnacles. It was once an Armoury and the Head Quarters of the Bangalore Battalion (Auxiliary Force, India). In 1912, the present building included a Billiard Room, Reading Room, Ladies Room and a Bar. The Bangalore Rifle Volunteers (BRV), and ‘Defence Cinema’, came into existence in the early 1940s with BRV screening films only when there were no military-related activities on its premises.

 I slowly realise I am on a heritage ride across the Cantonment. A bus window is giving me insights into the city that I could never have driving in a car. I pass the elegant, Gothic, St. Andrews Church (1886) and fancy I can hear the faint sound of bagpipes, Scottish square dancing and celebrations of St. Andrew's Day inside. Being a Scottish Presbyterian Church, it was once charmingly called St. Andrew's "Kirk" and had a tower which held the Municipal Jubilee Memorial Clock with four dials. 

 Running parallel to South Parade (MG Road), we drive past what used to be Baird Barracks (Major General David Baird led the 1799 assault on ‘Seringapatam’ ), turn right at Manipal Centre and then left at the oldest electric power station in Bangalore (in 1904 we were the second city in Asia to be electrified, the first was Tokyo, Japan ) onto MG Road.

5:20 pm: It has taken me over 90 minutes to travel less than 5 kilometres. 1.5 hours later, I am at Trinity Church (1851) where, even before Bangalore became a Cantonment in 1809, legend has it, William Lambton, assisted by George Everest, passed by in 1805 while on his Great Trigonometric Survey of India.  Trinity Circle would have been barren land back then but I jump right into oncoming traffic because the bus has stopped unceremoniously at the divider. Like most pedestrians, I weave dangerously through traffic, violating all rules, because no one stops, and it’s a free for all. 


Sitting in the bus, the conductor sees me making notes diligently. He smiles and asks me “Number gottilla?" Board nodilla?” I smile back. I do not explain that I got onto 335E to track a daily commute to MG Road, but ended up travelling a hundred years back in time. 

Heritage: DNA Newspaper, Bangalore

Urban Infrastructure : ichangemycity, Janaagraha

The city feeds itself

 06 Jan 2011, Aliyeh Rizvi learns more about growing food in Bangalore city, eating right and contributing directly to replenishing green cover.

It just may be possible that the term `weapons-of-mass-destruction’ may not really refer to intangibles hidden in the deserts of Iraq anymore, but allude more specifically to something equally life threatening – the food we put into our mouths. If the spiraling prices don’t kill us prematurely, then pesticides, contamination, artificial preservatives, adulteration and poor quality produce might just do the trick.  

Indigenous knowledge insists that for food to be truly nourishing, it must be created with respect for the earth and with love and reverence for the fact that it sustains us. Growing and preparation are both intrinsic to the sacred experience of eating. But while the process of preparation is within our control, what of the growing? Our lives are eked out in an urban environment made of concrete and steel with no access to soil slipping through our fingers or grass beneath our feet. No wonder then, urbanites are busy raising cows, gifting milk, adding tomatoes to their vegetable patches and de-weeding regularly on Facebook’s Farmville. 

But even as we speak, seeds of new thought are being sown by people immersed in real time agricultural activity – raising real saplings, using real equipment and growing real carrots in an urban environment: the urban agriculturist.

What is Urban Agriculture ?

In simple terms, urban agriculture is defined as “the growing of plants and the raising of animals within and around cities.” This includes roof gardens, wetland development, commercial farming, poultry farming, and livestock raising.  Almost a decade ago, the FAO in its report  `Urban Agriculture For Sustainable Poverty Alleviation and Food Security ‘ estimated  “  (UNDP 1996; FAO 1999) that 200 million urban residents provide food for the market and 800 million urban dwellers are actively engaged in urban and peri-urban agriculture in one way or another " … and..." a global estimate (data 1993) is that 15-20% of the world’s food is produced in urban areas. “ This provides a backdrop for current UPA ( urban -peri urban agriculture ) efforts being made globally to address food quality and scarcity issues, leading to the emergence of a revolutionary, self- sustaining format, as in Havana, where the city feeds itself. 

 In 2006, The RUAF Foundation ( Resource Centres for Urban Agriculture and Food Security)  identified Bangalore (urban and peri-urban areas )  for one of its pilot initiatives in South Asia. The municipalities of Anekal, Kanakapura and Magadi were shortlisted for this project which aimed at examining the UPA situation, building capacity among multiple stake holders, creating livelihood opportunities, promoting self –sufficiency through growing pesticide free vegetables in city spaces, recycling waste into compost and implementing rainwater harvesting.

In North Bangalore, Sangita Sharma, Director, (Annadana Soil and Seed Network ), well known campaigner for `Safe Food,' has been running interactive workshops on sustainable agriculture, solid waste management and works on Seed Saving at her farm in Jalahalli. Nearby, HR Jayaram, organic farmer and environmental activist builds awareness on `Slow Food' from Sukrushi, his farm in Neelamangala and Era Organic, his outlet in RMV Extn.

But then, what of the urban gardener who has no access to tracts of agricultural land, manpower and farming techniques ? Jagadish Shri, ( Technical Manager, Wipro Technologies ) set up his own 40 sq ft organic vegetable terrace garden at his home in Banashankari in 2009, where he now grows vegetables for his own kitchen. “   I feel urban agriculture/terrace gardening is very relevant from the perspective of building connections between people, soil, and plants - in short, the ecosystem. I feel the world is moving more and more into a state of disconnect. “ says Shri.  He adds “ Economics should not become the key driver for this (or any other area of life such as healthcare, education and so on). Fostering healthy relationships between us and the food we eat is far more important."

Apartment terraces, balconies, office complexes, even unconventional containers like ice cream cups and tins can all be utilised effectively to create green spaces in the city.  Theoretically, any roof surface can be greened - even sloped or curved roofs can support a layer of sod, vegetables or wildflowers. Switzerland has just passed a bylaw which states that while new buildings must be designed to relocate the green space covered by the building's footprint to their roofs - even existing buildings  ( including historical buildings) must now green 20% of their rooftops.  

Why Terrace Gardening?

Terrace Gardening offers you the option of cultivating safe, nourishing food for a fraction of the market prices, right at your doorstep. Eating fresh food grown in tune with the seasonal cycles of the earth contributes to overall wellbeing and good health. It increases access to private outdoor green space ( at home or at work ) within the urban environment. It increases green cover, supports urban food production, improves air quality and reduces CO2 emissions caused by vehicular traffic.  It delays storm water runoff, provides a habitat for birds and insulates buildings. Most importantly, it cuts down on food miles, the energy required to get food to your plate.

Bangalore ( the erstwhile Garden City),  is now witness to Terrace Gardening efforts  that encourage citizens to go beyond online farming activities and get their hands dirty. Dr. BN Vishwanath , well-known scientist and Organic Terrace Gardening ( OTG ) pioneer and expert, regularly conducts one-day training courses through the well known, AME Foundation. These workshops have provided guidance and inspiration for many gardening enthusiasts in Bangalore, as has his book “ A Handbook of Organic Terrace Gardening” .

Before you begin, avid city gardener , Raja Panda has a few tips “ " first figure out the space that you can spare for your plants. Ideally it should receive  4+ hours of sunlight if you want to grow vegetables. The second step - think about the size and kind of containers that you would like to have in those spaces.  Choices abound to suit one's budget and style. Next is the selection of, or rather the combination of growing materials (like soil + sand + compost + coco peat etc..) and ensuring an ideal combination of these to ensure proper nutrition for your plants and porosity for the right amount of water retention. While BC Sai Kiran, who grows vegetables  in the heart of Chamrajpet adds, “Rodents are another major cause of worry, so protect and nurture your garden with care and patience".

Another Bangalore resident, Vinay P Chandra has made J Garden one of his life’s missions. J Garden, is a social enterprise which aims to become a one stop shop for all kitchen gardening needs from seed to soil, and a common networking point for everyone interested in the subject.  It currently offers Kitchen Garden installation services and equipment for those contemplating on greening their rooftops. For a city facing a problem of rapid loss of agricultural area on the periphery and water bodies/green cover within the city, UPA offers Bangalore a ray of hope. 

 In the face of issues such as random tree cutting and depleting green cover, Terrace Gardening offers Bangaloreans a pro-active, positive way to re-build what is being lost. Even though one day, farming systems on the periphery  will eventually be overtaken by the urban sprawl, they could also be incorporated into the urban landscape in the process.

"There are no gardens left in the Garden City" says BC Sai Kiran, an avid terrace gardener. "In 1975, when I grew up in Pondicherry, there were two special inter-state buses that  used to bring in special 'Bangalore Vegetables' such as peas, cauliflower, carrots and the famous `Bangalore Chillies ‘ (capsicum). In 1995, I remember shopping in Domlur for vegetables fresh from the field right behind the shop! Now, there’s a bus stand there and vegetables come in from Hoskote and Kolar."  

Heritage: The Hindu Newspaper, Bangalore