A Day of Strenuous Sightseeing In and Around Mysore
Thu, Jan 9, 2025:
Mysore-Bangalore:
We were ready for our 6.00 am taxi pick-up at Menaka’s place (despite having a very disturbed night—street stray dog’s conference!). The driver was late—typical IST (Indian Stretchable Time) attitude! Instead of 6.00 am, we ended up leaving at 6.30. We loved our home on wheel for the next few days—a Traveller van that seats 12. We were fortunate to be just 6 folks—this allowed us to stretch out, switch seats and make ourselves at home on the long road journeys between sites. We informed our driver (Ravi) that we would need to stop after about an hour as we had left on empty stomachs.
Breakfast En Route:
Accordingly, in a little over an hour, Ravi dropped us off at a very nice South Indian vegetarian restaurant called Krishna Vilas Palace. It had beautiful paintings on the wall of the Wodeyar dynasty that ruled the Principality of Mysore for centuries. There were also depictions of the famous Mysore Dussera Procession which, I believe, still takes place annually. We ordered from the extensive menu that included idlis and dosas—plain, masala and semolina—with sambar and chutney. Plus, we had something called a Mangalore Bun--which was like a large banana fritter (really tasty) and we washed it all down with Mysore filter coffee. Mysore is acclaimed for its coffee which grows in abundance on the plantations of Coorg (where we’d be spending two nights).
Ramnagar--It’s Association with Bollywood:
En route to our first spot of sightseeing, we passed by a towering bank of rocky mountains that were right alongside the highway. My guide book informed me that this area is known as Ramnagar and that it has a unique place in Indian cinematic history as the location for the shooting of one of the best-known scenes of all time. The scene from the film, Sholay, one of the greatest Bollywood blockbusters, featuring the villain Gabbar Singh taking his minions to task for having failed in one of their assignments, was shot here. It features dialogue that begins with the Hindi words, “Kitne Aadami The?” The Indian actor Amjad Khan became a household name and his dialogue was on the lips of thousands of wannabe actors in the 1970s when this film was released. It was good to pass by the spot and to imagine that iconic scene from that iconic film shot here.
Visiting the Somnathpur Temple:
Our next stop, about two hours later, was in a place called Somnathpur, where the famous Somnathpur Temple is located. It’s highlight is the incredible 13th century Hindu Keshava Temple, dedicated to Lord Vishnu and built by King Narasimha III of the Hoysala Dynasty.
We paid a very modest entry fee (Rs. 20 per head for Indians, Rs. 100 for foreigners) and made our way along a lovely pathway flanked by gardens filled with winter dahlias, to the gateway of the Temple. It is really hard for me to describe the glory of these temples. I had Googled the temples and had carried printed notes to help us navigate the vast complex. But at the entrance, flanked, by twin deities, we found a guide who offered his services. We decided to hire him for Rs. 500 and told him that we did not have much time (as we had a long and tiring day of sight-seeing to accomplish). Hence, he promised us that within 90 minutes, he would show us around the highlights of the place.
He did just that. The Temple had three towers and sits on a pedestal that is approached by 4-5 steps. The entire place is built of granite that is finely carved over to resemble lace. The whole pantheon of Hindu gods, goddesses and deities are represented upon the temple walls in the form of intricate and beautifully delineated carvings. Hindu iconography overwhelms at every turn on walls that speak of the deep dedication of the worshippers of medieval India whose genius at building (engineering) and craftsmanship defies description. There were also friezes from the two major Hindu epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. My camera simply could not stop clicking as it was hard to commit everything to memory. Embellishment in the form of row after row of Indian animals (especially elephants) portrayed in various stages of movement, had me completely enthralled. There were pillars and columns that held up the structure that were also finely carved and massive stones that were turned using nothing but manual labor—no machinery of any kind. All of this was simply fascinating. Ceilings, inside the main temple, were adorned with hanging pediments that depicted banana and lotus flowers in various stages of bloom. Deities were depicted with their mounts or with the emblems of their powers. Surrounding the main temple building are arcaded cells that, the guide explained, once contained the carved statues of demi-gods and goddesses. Sadly, none of them stand as they were removed by the British and placed in the British Museum. Today, these cells are empty spaces with contemporary doors and locks to keep squatters from taking shelter within them. The entire place is looked after by the Archeological Survey of India who do a splendid job keeping the premises neat, clean and approachable. Y
es, we paused to take the mandatory group pictures at the entrance of the temple and, about 90 minutes later, were ready to explore some of the small gift shops just outside the temple precincts where Chriselle bought two pashmina shawls and some silk cushion covers. And then it was time for us to proceed as we had a lot of ground to cover before nightfall. Driving through Rural Karnataka:
Driving through Rural Karnataka:
The drive through miles of rural Karnataka countryside was itself a sheer delight, especially for us city-dwellers. Overall, despite the fact that the monsoon is long past, the land is green and fresh—probably a result of excellent irrigation facilities. We passed by mile after mile of coconut groves and areca nut palm trees. Occasionally, we drove by a vast expanse of lake—natural and artificial—that was filled with lotus flowers. Sugar cane plantations were also plentiful everywhere we went as their tall green fronds swayed gently in the breeze. Passing by small villages, we saw the simple domestic lives of rural folk as well as the vehicles (bullock carts) they still use for transporting vast bales of hay. Yes, there were haystacks (all neatly rolled up as seen in Europe) and herds of cattle (mainly cows in various colors) and some water buffalo everywhere. I thoroughly enjoyed these countryside drives.
The Splendor of Srirangapatnam:
Not too long after we left Somnathpur, we arrived at a site that occupies a special place in the history of Karnataka and especially Mysore. This is Srirangapatnam (known as Seringapatna in British days). This venue was the seat of the 17th century Maharaja of Mysore, Tipu Sultan, who was known as the ‘Tiger of the Deccan”. He was the arch nemesis of the British who tried hard to overthrow him and failed miserably. Tipu had been well-coached by his father, also a towering historical figure, called Haider Ali. Together, they made a formidable team that kept the British at bay until the arrival of Lord Cornwallis. At a very bloody battle fought in Srirangapatnam, Tipu was finally defeated. He was required to surrender his two sons (still very young boys) as hostages to Cornwallis—which he did with a very heavy heart. Tipu’s surrender is one of the saddest chapters in South Indian history. A side-note to this episode is that, flush with his victory in Mysore, Lord Cornwallis was posted to North America to fight in the American Revolutionary War where he faced the forces of George Washington at Yorktown in Virginia and was roundly trounced! Karma! So, the hero of Mysore became the pariah of Virginia.
Srirangapatnam is the kind of place that would take a whole day to explore properly. I am proud to say that when I was a pre-teenager and had spent an entire month in Mysore with my parents and two younger brothers, they had taken us on a day-long excursion (by horse-drawn tonga, no less) from Mysore to this venue. There we’d had the opportunity to explore Tipu’s vast domain which consists of his summer palace (called Daria Daulat) as well as a mosque, the living quarters of his courtiers, stables for elephants and horses, prison cells for his captives (including many British soldiers who were taken prisoner), and the mausoleums (Gumbaz) of Haider Ali, his wife (Tipu’s mother) and Tipu Sultan himself. etc. Exploring all of it would take tons of time and energy—neither of which we had. Hence, we focused only on two items—Daria Daulat Palace and Gumbaz.
Discovering Daria Daulat Palace:
It was a short walk along a lovely, shaded pathway with a canopy of trees that took us to the entrance of Daria Daulat Palace (which means Wealth of the Seas). The only irritating thing about our sightseeing was that we were required to pay entrance fees online (we had also done so at Somnathpur) as there are no longer ticket booths manned by human beings near these monuments. For anyone who is digitally challenged, this can be a real botheration. If you do not have a data plan (as many visiting foreigners do not), I am not sure how the tickets might be purchased. It is quite baffling. Dozens of people, all attempting to buy tickets through their phones, cause human traffic snarls at the entrances to these monuments. Somehow, we managed to buy our tickets (Rs. 25 for Indians, Rs. 100 for foreigners) and went past the lovely Islamic-style gateway to enter the neatly-manicured gardens that create an approach to the palace.
Inside the Daria Daulat Palace:
Daria Daulat Palace is a small, neat building that surprises on the inside as nothing about the exterior prepares you for what you will see on its interior walls. Indeed, contemporary frescoes that depict contemporary processions of royal grandeur cover the walls of the palace on the inside. Shades or chiks, as they are called, cover the exterior walls and serve to keep direct sunlight away from the paintings. I believe the colors would deteriorate rapidly under the harsh sun’s rays. We took many pictures of Tipu Sultan and Haider Ali with their massive entourages on horseback or in elephant howdahs. There are also depictions of ranks and files of Western (probably British) soldiers on horseback or on foot that made up the huge panoply of these rooms.
The palace also serves as a museum and we were able to see contemporary weaponry such as swords and daggers, etchings that depicted the surrender of Tipu Sultan to Cornwallis and other memorabilia of the period. A life-size portrait of Tipu by Johann Zoffany, who traveled across the colonial sub-continent depicting royalty (both British and Indian) is seen on one of the walls, while, on the other side, there is a portrait by Howe of Tipu’s handing over of his young sons to the British who took them hostage. It is a very pitiful depiction of a sad episode in South Indian history.We were happy to meet a group of Indian school students who were eager to talk to us and ask where we were from. They were accompanied by their History teacher who was also very friendly and eager to converse. Everywhere we traveled, we found local groups of Indian tourists who had come by large coaches as well as school and college groups of students out on field trips as they explored their own country. I found these sights deeply heartening and a true testament of the fact that Indians are finally acknowledging the rich canvas of their history and going out to discover it.
On exiting the complex, we spied a lone tonga with a horse and driver that looked badly in need of customers. Deciding to relive the journey I had undertaken to this venue (all the way from Mysore) as a child, I approached the tonga driver to ask for a ride to our van. He readily obliged and four of us—Chriselle, AJ, Llew and I—climbed into the tiny cabin as the driver walked alongside and took us to our van. It was a simple joy but it meant a lot to me as it filled me with a sense of nostalgia.
Going to the Gumbaz:
Aside from the Daria Daulat Palace, another fabulous building that still stands is the Gumbaz (or mausoleum) of Tipu and his parents. This structure too, in pure Islamic style, with its impressive dome and pedestal and the long walkway, flanked by Moghul-style gardens, are a great legacy of Muslim rule in India. Sadly, we did not have the time to fully explore the interior and had to be content with taking a few pictures with the edifice in the background.
On the way back to our van and while leaving, we were treated to the sight of magnificently clad horses who, apparently, are available on hire, to take visitors around the premises. We did not have the time to try out their services, but I do imagine that it would be a very novel way of exploring a place that is deeply rooted in the annals of past centuries. It was a thoroughly fascinating visit that, being a history buff myself, truly left me aching for more.
Lunch at Sandhya’s Place:
Another drive (of about an hour) then brought us to the outskirts of the city of Mysore. By this time, we were starving and were ready for lunch. Menaka’s friend, who lives in Mysore had recommended this place as the perfect spot for a bit of typically local Kannadiga food. We were game to try it out and arrived at the venue where we found ourselves in a very traditional home that has been converted into a restaurant run by a woman called Sandhya. We had a bit of a wait of about 20 minutes (which gave us a chance to use restrooms) before we were seated.
Lunch consisted of a typical banana leaf that we were encouraged to wash clean (with water provided). After this ritual, three women came along, each carrying vessels filled with vegetarian food that offered such a bewildering variety of items that we were simply floored. There was rice and pooris plus dal (lentils), vegetables, sambar, tomato rasam (known as Saar in Karnataka), a few chutneys, plus buttermilk--all presented, thali-style in small bowls, and offered in unlimited quantities. The ladies kept coming back repeatedly to find out if we wanted seconds or thirds of the really delicious food. At the very end, there was coconut paak or a coconut sweet that was also delectable. This superbly generous offering of food was available for Rs. 200. We were thoroughly delighted with our choice of meal and when we had the chance later of actually meeting Sandhya, the chef and owner, we took a picture with her and applauded her for her culinary genius. Then replete with our meal, it was time for us to leave for the next item on our agenda, the spectacular Mysore Palace.
Our First Introduction to Mysore City:
The City of Mysore was, for centuries, administered, by the dynasty of kings known as the Wodeyars. They were formidably wealthy and were hugely benevolent. They were beloved of their subjects because while their own lifestyles were lavish (as seen in their palaces and other possessions), they did not neglect the needs of their people and spared no pains or expense to keep them happy and contended. Hence, they earned the complete loyalty of their subjects. Driving through the City of Mysore gave us the opportunity to see exactly how this benevolence was executed. The entire city is a model of urban planning with its wide boulevards, clear intersections, punctuated by carved statues of Wodeyar dynasty rulers seen standing under chatri (or umbrella canopies). Thus, although by Bombay or Bangalore standards, Mysore traffic is minimal, it moves, nevertheless, in an extremely orderly manner along streets that are broad enough to accommodate it. I would have dearly loved to have spent some more time in Mysore—just enjoying a feel of the city or shopping in its markets. Unfortunately, there was not much time to accomplish this.
The Magnificence of Mysore Palace:
We arrived at the car park for the Mysore Palace and went through the motions of careful security checks. We needed to leave our footwear in large bags at the entrance (you can walk around with socks). The Mysore Palace, also known as the Amba Vilas Palace, is the official city residence of the Wodeyar Dynasty who filled it with Victorian excess as was the fashion in the 19th century (their heyday). The original palace, built entirely of wood, caught fire and is long gone and was reconstructed several times. The current structure, open to the public, was built between 1897 and 1912. It is second only to the Taj Mahal in Agra in terms of popularity among tourists visiting India. The British architect, Henry Irwin, is responsible for the design of this edifice which is constructed in Indo-Saracenic style. This is a combination of Islamic, Rajput and Gothic architectural styles and is widely seen over the length and breadth of India. The British seem to be especially fond of this style of architecture as it probably speaks of the fabled wealth of India while also being removed from the typical architectural style of Western palaces. As regards the Mysore Palace, the exterior is an exquisite composition of onion domes in varied colored, plus canopied windows with Gothic arches—all of which add to the general grandeur of the place.It takes at least two hours to explore the palace thoroughly. Once past the entrance, you walk along long corridors that act as museum showcases to display the wealth of the Wodeyars in the form of elephant howdahs as well as the taxidermied heads of hunted elephants. Inside, the various rooms of the palace are a testimony to the taste and style of erstwhile royal families. There were huge rooms whose embellishment involves Murano stained glass ceiling panels and windows, ornamented pillars, richly-carved teak wood doors and windows, marble balustraded staircases, loads of oil painted portraits, sterling silver boxes and sandalwood trunks. There is a second floor, to be climbed along a wide, marble staircase, that takes you to a turquoise gallery with dozens of towering decorative pillars. One side of this huge room overlooks the palace grounds providing uninhibited views of the origin of the annual Dusserah Procession before it leaves the palace precincts and moves into the city.
On one’s final looks around this palace one sees the grand courtyard whose main entrance is flanked by two large bronze sculpted tigers by Robert William Colton. It’s really hard to describe every detail of the palace. Suffice it to say that you will actually be quite tired visually and your eye will soon lose sense of exactly what needs to be taken in as the place is so crammed with eye candy as to dazzle and bewilder. It’s enough to state that the status of the Maharaja of Mysore as one of the most elite, wealthy and powerful of the Indian princes (during the Colonial era) is not lost on visitors who receive a vivid glimpse into the glory that was India before the wealth of the nation was stripped off by colonial greed.
As a child, I had visited the stables in which the Maharajas horses had been kept as well as his garages where his fleet of fancy cars, including Rolls Royces, were on view. That era is now long past. Most likely, these bits of movable estate have been sold and the buildings that once housed them today serve as gift shops that stand on one side of the building.
As we were exiting this complex, we saw what looked like golf carts parked on one side. We asked where these went and were informed that they took visitors around the periphery of the palace which is rather vast and provided good photo ops. As Blossom was keen to get a buggy ride, we hired one of the vehicles and set out on a 20-minute ride that made a couple of stops to enable us to get pictures against the main gates of the palace. I recalled that when I was a child, we had seen the Maharaja drive past us in one of his cars. On passing us, he had actually waved at us and we had waved back. This was probably the first royal sighting I have ever had and it remains etched in my memory. The Maharaja’s current family probably still continues to live in the building, in a series of apartments, in one wing of the palace, I have no doubt.
On returning to our parked van, we were accosted by a few vendors selling trinkets such as wooden fans and magnets. We bought the ones that caught our eye and returned to our van.
Our driver informed us that it would take us at least an hour to get to the next venue—the Brindavan Gardens that were located way outside the city precincts. Hence, with the sun setting, we would probably reach the gardens long after night fall—a perfect time to see the famous musical fountain for which the garden is known and which is accompanied by a sound and light show.Brindavan Gardens and Krishna Raja Sagar Dam:
As expected, the drive to the Brindavan Gardens from the City of Mysore took us more than an hour. By this stage, both Blossom and Chriselle were tired and needed to forgo the excursion to the musical fountain. After our van was parked, they walked just a little bit to the point where it was necessary to use a long walkway across an artificial lake where boating was still in progress, in almost pitch darkness. They found a place to sit down at that spot and said goodbye to us as Llew, Menaka and I raced against the clock to the spot where the musical fountain would start playing in about 15 minutes. It was about a kilometer’s walk to the fountain and we went past the beautifully laid out beds of a formal garden whose construction began in 1927 and was completed in 1932. My parents had gone for their honeymoon to Mysore (in 1954)—so the gardens were only 20 years old when they had been there for the first time. When they visited again with their three children in tow, it was 1971—a good 17 years later. I had visited Mysore with my NYU students in the year 2000—so this was the third time I had been to this venue.
Sadly, as it was very dark and lighting was much too dim, we could not really see the grandeur of these gardens that are set against the imposing walls of the Krishna Raja Sagar Dam—known as the KRS Dam. The dam was built to harness the waters of the Kaveri river that flow alongside and it provides hydroelectricity to the state of Karnataka. We could, of course, see the towering walls of the Dam alongside the flower beds of the gardens as well as the many beautiful fountains spouting colored water as we hurried along to the musical fountain.
Enjoying the Musical Fountain at the Brindavan Gardens:
The Musical Fountain was far more impressive than I had imagined. Having seen the famous Dubai Mall Fountains, I had expected not to be as taken by this spectacle of light, sound and water effects. But, in fact, they were quite dazzling in their glory. The show is free and the venue (a kind of amphitheater) allows people to sit on stands that provide an uninhibited view of the spectacle. Loud music from Kannada films accompanies the computerized program that shoots water into the skies while flood lights in varied colors tinge the spouting water in a spectrum of colors that is quite scintillating indeed. It went on for 15 minutes, after which everyone hurried away from their spots. We were very fortunate to find seats ourselves and we had almost ring-side views of the fountain. When the show ended, we walked along the return path to get back to where Blossom and Chriselle were awaiting us and without wasting too much time, then made our way back, past a plethora of stalls and shops selling drinks, eats, souvenirs, toys, etc. to our waiting vehicle. All that was left, after a long and exhausting day, was to find our accommodation for the night and to crash into it.
Spending the Night at Gitanjali Homestay:
It was thanks to one of Menaka’s friends, who had stayed in this place herself, that we booked our accommodation for the night. It was to be a place called Gitanjali Homestay run by a retired army officer, his wife Muthu and their daughter, Yamuna, who had communicated with Menaka to finalize the reservation.
By the time we found the place, which was just outside the City of Mysore—to which we had to return—we were all really spent and the place, being dimly lit too, encouraged us to simply find a girl called Lina, who gave us our keys and led us to a bank of rooms. There was not much we could discern in the dark and so we simply went to bed. Our lunch had been so huge and so filling that none of us felt like eating a large meal. We survived on a few cookies and trail mix before calling it a night.
It had been a truly extraordinary day and we were delighted at the amount of ground we had managed to cover in a single day’s sightseeing. Who knew what further delights the next day would bring?
No comments:
Post a Comment