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**Noor** · 06-03-2011, 09:25 PM

Thread approved

**aargee** · 06-03-2011, 10:46 PM

Awesome!!! Looking forward to read it here

**animeher** · 06-09-2011, 04:25 AM

Updated the first three days, and four articles on the blog page:

Search for the True Wanderers - Preview Winner

Do read and review it here. Don't forget to vote!

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 11:21 AM

Now that the voting is over and results awaited, I will post the full travelogue here as well

Hope you enjoy reading it.

Trailer:

Glimpses of Maharashtra in Seven Steps

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 11:29 AM

Introduction

Turned out my blog submitted at the last minute to the True Wanderers contest was about to be selected amongst the top 10 for next round. Wow! So what next?

The details rolled by, and they really dazed me. A week long ride with such a short notice? That too had to be in Maharashtra. The month was May. Almost all of the state was burnt by the sun in his four months of glory, and all were awaiting the rain. The photographs would all be yellow dried grass! Touring season in Maharashtra is from October to February. Not the peak of the summer!

And besides, I had just returned from an 18 day ride from Kerala a month ago, whose travelogue was selected in the contest. My boss would kill me if I requested a week long leave now.

The questions cluttered my mind, and I requested Suneil some time to think about it before accepting. The problems were overwhelming, but there was a small joy hidden in there somewhere. A possible opportunity to communicate to the world about my dream: to promote safe riding.Road is better than the inn

No wayDamnGlimpses of Maharashtra in Seven Steps.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 11:38 AM

Day 1

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Some days are different.

On most days, you wake up, go to work, come back, enjoy with family, sleep. The same scolding of boss, the same travel, the same routine - the same life. On most days.

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But some days are really different. You know they are rare, and once they come to an end, they will leave with nothing but longing memories. Today was one such day for me. Today I would be leaving for Wrangler’s True Wanderer contest! I would be competing against the best tourers in the country for best trip and travelogue. And how do I start this most awaited day? By sleeping till late, of course. Somehow, my body doesn’t care what state of mind I am in. When it needs rest, it rests. The hell with the owner’s plans.

I was starting pretty late today, the flag off was scheduled at 2.30 P.M. So late in the afternoon usually means you can’t ride too far that day. I had a choice of returning back home and starting the next day. But my old fashioned mind refused to accept that idea, and thus I planned to leave on the same day.

As inevitable, till last minute the packing went on. It has become such a routine now; that if at all I am packed in advance, I would think I am in a dream. So here I was, packing at full speed with wife’s and mom’s help, going through the list of things one more time. Laptop – charger – mobile – charger – camera – charger – damn these chargers. Wish there would be just one BIG connector that is common to all. My backpack is now carrying nothing but gizmos and toys!

Leaving home

The day’s itinerary was simple. Go to Wrangler showroom about 1.00 P.M., select the denim and wear it, have a few pictures clicked, and then flag off. Well, at least on paper it seemed alright. But making it true in reality was much difficult than anticipated. First was the before mentioned regular lag. Thus we reached at Wrangler at 2.00 P.M., rather than 1 P.M., effectively postponing all the rest of the agenda. Parking is as usual problematic on FC road – for the uninitiated, one of the busiest and ‘hip’ roads in Pune. I was told to park in front of Wrangler Showroom. When I returned after a while, the bike was gone! Damn those traffic cops, I thought, this is the day when they follow all rules! But it seemed the helper at Wrangler had moved it aside.

[img] https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-f...%252520013.jpg [/img]

The Wrangler showroom people received us well. Mr.Ashish, a senior official of Wrangler was present, and he was personally attending me. I picked up a faded styled denim from their collection. The idea is that the wanderer will wear the same denim for the next 7 days, and the present it back the Wrangler showroom. This is for the promotion of their new series ‘True Wanderers’ that wears a truly rugged look. I am curious how my denim would look after 7 days! After picking up the denim, the photography session started. Felt great to be the center of attention! Felt as if I am getting married again! Even at the time of marriage, I suspect my wife was more the center than I, but this she never agrees. Anyway, so we got our denim, got the pictures clicked, and got flagged off in style.

It was almost 4.00P.M. b the time I left Wrangler showroom, and I was 1 hour behind schedule. The day’s running was not much though. In fact, as stated before, none of the rides in this tour are going to be super human one. They are planned to be easily doable, so that anyone can pick something up from this itinerary and leave on his bike.

Nandinee came to see me off for some distance, when it slowly started raining. What started as a drizzle, soon took form of a heavy rain, and washed out everything thoroughly, including my grand plans of photography. This photo was taken by Nandinee, before she took a U turn with teary eyes.

Pune to Mulshi is the same mechanical route. Dodge bigger vehicles - avoid pot holes - watch out for wandering pedestrians – repeat. This patch hasn’t changed in its character for many years. The development on this patch is amazing though. With many new banglow plots and ‘holiday homes’ I wonder how long can this little road will hold up against the increasing traffic.

It was raining constantly, with varying intensity of raindrops. I would otherwise get wet inside out, but the Duckback raincoat was doing its job perfectly. Duckback company makes one of the most dull looking rainsheeters that history of mankind has seen. A tea-picker’s bamboo cover has much more style element than this. But when it comes to utility, that is saving the wearer from rain, few could hold a candle against Duckback. I have been using it for more than 4 years now, and I can easily recommend this brand to anyone who values staying dry over looking cool and wet.

As I put some kilometers between myself and Pune, the sky became clear, and though the drops were still falling, they were mostly in form of drizzle. I sneaked a few photographs this time.

But Tamhini ghaat is notoriously famous for its false indications of weather. One turn and you are in dry area, another one, and you are looking at foggy rain clouds. This ride was no different, and I was expecting it. Whenever the rain gods gave me smile, I clicked the scenery.

I used to think that Maharashtra rides would only be interesting in and after the rains, as after Jan-Feb, it is all dried grass everywhere. But in this rain, everything was getting washed out. The trees were looking all spanking clean and green, the rocks nicely polished red, and the yellow grass now forming lumps that looked amazing on the black rock’s backdrop. It was a riot of colors, yellow lumps of grass, black rock, red soil, green trees – it was amazing. I half expected the famous Tamhini waterfalls to be atleast making their presense felt by now, but they are yet to come. If the rains continue, in one month Tamhini will be full to the brims with tourists getting soaked up in the waterfalls.

The customary shot of Tamhini valley - Ghal

I rode hard to catch a particularly photograph. After this ghaat, we are connected to State Highway 60, which goes through some amazing route. One particular turn goes through rocky hills from both the sides, and I am yet to see someone who doesn’t exclaim ‘Need for speed!’ while going through them. The turn resembles the game that well.

There was a time when this SH 60 was smooth. I remember riding through bumby Tamhini ghaat for the smooth twisties on this road. Alas, now the situation is reversed. The roads in Tamhini are mostly in shape, and the SH60 is properly banged up. The road quality deteriorates significantly, once we cross over from ghaat to SH. But paying no heed to that, I rode ahead. But the rains increased so much by then, I worried whether the photography would be possible in this trip or not. Luckily, the rain gave me a window of a few minutes just when I was passing through that section. Here it is, the NFS road of Tamhini:

My stop for tonight was ‘Lake Resort, Sutarwadi’. I continued on the road, crossing Vile to head towards Kolad. The map said it is after 12 kilometers from Vile. It is indeed within that range, and I was standing outside its gate at about 7.00 P.M. I was pretty dry, but the tankbag and saddlebags were thoroughly soaked up. They showed me my room, and before I could check in, SNAP, the lights are gone.

No matter, I thought, fetching a chair to sit in the Verandah, hoping the electricity would come back again. 5…10…20 minutes, no sign of electricity. Man made, that is. God’s electricity was having a field day. With 3D surround and dolby special effects the God’s drums were playing their beat in full form. It was damn scary to us mere mortals. The fury continued for quite some time. It was about 9.00 that the lights finally came, when I had given up any hope for them.

It is now 11.30 P.M. After a filling dinner at the dining hall, I am typing on the laptop. I should sleep now, but now my mind is taking revenge on the body and refusing to sleep, filling me up full of thoughts.

This ride brings many new things that have not been done by me in any of my past rides. In all rides, I wrote the travelogue after returning from the trip. I had all the time in the world to compose, to select photos etc. In fact, some of the travelogues are posted after 7-8 months of ride. But on this ride, I am supposed to update daily! Well, daily connection of internet in the areas I have planned is a long term plan of government, but I sure do expect to write daily, and upload as and when I get the network.

Another new thing about this ride is that, this is mine and Vesta’s first ride without my wife as pillion. Vesta tours and travels always meant us three, but this time as it was not allowed, I and Vesta are touring together.
The hotel seems nice. A family manages the property. The rooms are surroundings are clean, with each room housing 3-4 beds. I am now going to sleep on 4 beds in total! There is no range of any mobiles save for occasional BSNL and Tata ones. After getting used to electricity and mobiles and internet connection at the moment’s notice in town, it is going to be a wonderful wandering where I am no longer connected by radiations!

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 11:55 AM

Day 2 – Part I – The hidden beauty in plain sight

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‘Whoa!’

While having breakfast, I was thinking, there can’t be any hidden places so much near to the big towns like Mumbai and town. I was proven wrong in a matter of hours. I was watching wide eyed at the beauty that unfolded in front of me.

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The electricity didn’t go out thankfully in the night, or if it did, I didn’t realize. I had set up the alarm clock at an optimistic 6.30 AM, and got up at a humane time - 7.30 AM. The breakfast was a grand affair. I think they had prepared a couple’s breakfast, and realizing I am only one staying in the room, served me the combined one.

I rode to Roha, for river rafting and other river activities. I was told very confidently by a person at the hotel, that the river rafting can be done any time we want. I was highly suspicious of this, as I had read that the river rafting was dependent on the water release by the nearby dam, and certainly didn’t happen all day long. Yet, I reached Wild river center about 9.30. No one was there except a cranky old guard. I made myself at home, clicking pictures here and there.

Finally the owner came at about 10.00. Got the good news, that the water rafting is not done there. It is done is Vile, which is opposite of this place from my hotel, and is done in morning 8.00 A.M. Some hotel owners had told me that Monday is a holiday for this water releases, but I couldn’t confirm that. So OK, I thought, out goes the water rafting. What else? They had a package for kayaking, river fox and river crossing.

This was my first time doing kayaking. It is really very soothing; you are on your own rowing your boat, not dependent on anyone else except maybe the water current.

Row left to go to right, row right to go to left, I was instructed. Fine, but how to go straight? All I could manage for first few minutes is to dance on water taking full left turns and then full right turns. Then I realized, that in kayaking, you row straight ‘on an average’. That is you put equal left and right strokes to generally go in straight direction, which consists of oscillating between left and right direction. Nevertheless, it was fun, and really relaxing.

Later came the river jumping. I was made to wear the harness, and sooner than I thought, I was sitting at the corner of a platform, looking ahead to my drag many feet down in the river, and wondering whether I should rethink this part.

Before I could manage a word of opposition, I was pushed by the helper, and thus was left with no other option to ‘fly’ forwards and fall in the water.

Last part was river crossing, where you cross the river by walking on a rope, and holding an upper rope for support.

It goes fine for initial steps, and you build up confidence in no time. I was happily sliding along, fully confident that I would finish the crossing. But once you come around center, the ropes start to swing violently, and you are dancing on them as a puppet on strings. Didn’t make it to the end, and fell ass backwards in the water.

On return journey, some heavy rains caught up with me. But now the rains didn’t come as threat to me. The Duckback kept it well away.

The stop while returning was the Sutarwadi lake. It is on way to Vile – Kolad. I stopped at the village Sutarwadi, and started asking for the lake. Surprisingly, no one knew about any lake! I still continued ahead, putting a 5 kilometer stoploss, that is if I couldn’t find anything in 5 kilometers, I will turn back. After about 4.5 kilometers, I passed through a proper antique village named Dagadwadi (literally society of stones). Asked a grandma hanging out in the courtyard.

‘Where’s the lake?’

‘Lake….no lake. Oh wait… lake! Straight ahead.’

Seeing her confused reaction wasn’t convincing, but yet the stop loss was still half a kilometer ahead. After passing through that rustic village, I continued on the small path, and grasped.

‘Whoa!’

A beautiful lake was visible through the cactus bushes. I hurriedly rode there, parked Vesta and ran to the lake. It was splendid. The coconut plantations on its shores, the wide waterbed made the whole view grand. But it was raining as hell. There was no chance of taking any photo, and this frustrated me a great deal. Come on, I kept on urging the rain, give me two minutes break. But as always, he didn’t listen, and I kept waiting for half an hour standing in rain for it to go away. There was no sheltered thing nearby, except a samshaan ghaati nearby. My photographic urge was telling me to go there and click, because after all, the dead ones are gone! But my superstitious mind was not willing to go there. After a while, I returned to the village, and borrowed a broken umbrella from one of the houses. From under that umbrella, I started clicking photos and videos. It was not to my liking, but something is better than absolutely nothing.

See the rain drops, somehow the camera focused on them rather than on the scenery!

While coming back to the village, I noticed a tree, and started clicking its photos from under the umbrella. I saw in the view finder, and said 'wait a minute. How come the sky is appearing blue in this photo, when its raining?!'

I looked up in the sky in disbelief, to find all the rain clouds flown away, and sun shining in its glory. And here I was standing with an umbrella with camera in one hand wearing full rubber raincoat! It was getting unbearably hot under that getup, but the views were totally worth it. I couldn’t believe my luck, 5 minutes ago it was all monsoons, and now it was basking in beauty. Then for a very brief period, maybe for a couple of minutes, everything stood still, including the water. I kept on gazing the view with open mouth, to see the clouds reflected in the lake.

This view lasted for hardly a few minutes, and soon all the lake was filled up with ripples, letting go of any reflections.

All this sounds very hard to believe, so this is a video proof. The first half shows the panning done under an umbrella, see the water dropping, and hear the rain splattering on the umbrella. The second half is shot just after 5 minutes. The birdcalls are real, not added afterwards.

YouTube - ‪Change of scene in 5 minutes‬&rlm;

After a long round of photography till satisfaction, I returned to the village to give back the borrowed umbrella.

Vesta waiting for me in front of the house of borrowed umbrella.

Competing for the top spot in the village! The bullock cart won by majority of votes.

After lunch at hotel, I was all set to visit the next halt. In Kolad, I missed the poster attraction – white water rafting. But I did some things for the first time, and found out the view. While checking out of the hotel, I was glad I made Kolad the first stop of the trip.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 11:58 AM

Day 2 – Part II - The impossible friendship

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I couldn’t help but smile, for I have just shaken hands with King Shivaji and Afzal Khan. After all, how many people would have seen them in friendship?

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The next halt was at Raigad. I rode back to Vile, and took the newly constructed MIDC road. After travelling on bumpy roads, this smooth road comes as a surprise to unsuspecting traveler.

Then from Nizampur, there is a left to Raigad via Pachad. There seemed a road as per Google map, and it was confirmed by the locals too. From here, Raigad is about 31 kilometers. The path is very scenic, and passes through rustic villages that seem distant from present time.

The last few kilometers on this road are in horrible condition. It is a wonder that I didn’t fall off at any turn. At one time, the road is only of red sand, no stones. So all you have to do is to glide and slide along the slippery path. It becomes damn difficult on a 150kg bike laden with luggage. I braced myself for a fall, but luckily didn’t have any.

I had already booked a room on Raigad top from Pune. From there, I had come to know that the ropeway timings are from 8.00 A.M. to 5.30 P.M. I was racing against time to catch the 5.30 P.M. deadline, and thus was taking quite a beating. Luckily, I reached about 5.25 P.M., to find a lot of vehicles and tourists already present at the rope way base. Seems they have now changed their timings till 7 P.M. at least on weekends. This ropeway has proved to be a boon to travelers, especially the elderly or the lazy ones like me. By foot, one has to climb up 1500 odd stairs to reach Raigad. By this ropeway, one reaches the top in 4 minutes. This has greatly increased the number of tourists and thus have improved the economy of the local villages.

I parked Vesta in a secure parking spot, bought the Rs.170 ticket, and queued up for the rope way ride. You have to take a token number, and wait till it gets announced, to take your turn for the rope way ride. One capsule takes four, and there are four such capsules operating. Each takes 4 minutes to go up, and same to come down. So each 16 people batch takes about 10 minutes of refill. But no one seemed to believe in the system, including the watchman who was looking over the rope way operations.

I waited for half an hour seeing the crowd get dispersed, because there seemed many types of visitors that were interesting to observe. There were groups of trekkers in their t-shirts and bermudas, with a bag weighing almost equal to them, the family men with bulging belling and crying children, the romantic couples who didn’t notice anything else, a full set of actors along with theatrical props like swords and spears; waiting at Raigad ropeway is never a uninteresting. When I got bored, simply went near an empty capsule and got myself in for the ride.

As I was carrying considerable amount of luggage, I was helped by two actors of that drama group, and we introduced ourselves in capsule. One of them said:

‘We are coming for performing a drama based on King Shivaji’s life. I am Afzal Khan, and this is King Shivaji.’

I couldn’t help but smile. So many people travelling in the ropeway, and I end up sharing the cube with Shivaji and Afzal khan! What luck! The actors were nice fellows, and in fact Afzal Khan was contrary to his character, chatting and laughing.

View from the rope way cube

We arrived at the top station, and got out of the rope way premises. I looked up, and stopped in my tracks.

There were still a lot of stairs to climb, and my luggage was cutting me by weight, now that it was pretty wet by the ride. Seeing my despair, both Shivaji and Afzal ran to my rescue, grabbed my bags, and helped me carry them to top. When we reached the top, me panting heavily, I thanked them, and started looking for my room. After a brief search, I started to suspect that my room would be down at the rope way station only! I had no energy to go there just to ask whether the rooms are there or up on the fort. But then what to do?

Then I saw a couple going down the fort. I ran to them, and requested to find out at the enquiry below. We decided on the signal that if the hotels are not there, then the man would raise one hand, and if they are indeed there, then he would raise two! I kept on watching them as the climbed down the stairs, becoming smaller and smaller and increasingly harder to spot. I lost the sight of them in the onslaught of incoming tourists. Damn! Now what?

But then I saw two hands up! That good man had asked the enquiry, unfortunately my hotel was down there. So I picked up the luggage myself - with no Shivaji or Afzal to help this time, as they had already checked in their rooms - and started climbing down slowly.

I passed a lot of Policemen going up. They too were panting and resting, and in fact one suggested there should be a mini rope way from the rope way top station to actual gadh top! As expected, the enthusiastic manager had already given the room to someone else. So I was allocated a different room, whose owner would be adjusted elsewhere. It was too deep a track to follow, so I left it at that.

The room is totally not worth the money at all. You get to have a company of insects that are attracted to anything shiny, and have constant music of the rope way operating machines. If you are going to Raigad in hope of rest or calm, forget the rope way rooms and go for MTDC ones on top of the fort. But then you will get killed carrying up your luggage.

There are some tiny nuisances. The order for night’s dinner has to be given in advance, because it comes from the base the fort, and thus can’t be decided on the spot. If you forget to order, you don’t eat, simple.

But despite of the dirty room and sloppy rules of dinner, it was okay, for I was tired as hell. A city dweller, suddenly finding him kayaking and river crossing and climbing up the fort with heavy luggage, is bound to be dead tired by the day end.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:17 PM

Day 3 – King of the forts, fort of the Kings

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The English general couldn’t believe his eyes. He had just come up Raigad for King Shivaji’s enthronement ceremony, and was now staring at two huge elephants at the entrance – Mena Darwaja - decorated beautifully.

‘How did these beasts come up all the way? Elephants don’t climb stairs, not of this size.’ he inquired.

‘The king had them brought up in palanquins many months before this ceremony, when these elephants were just babies. They are raised on the gadh.’ The Mahout answered.

The Englishman couldn’t hide his amazement towards the king’s foresight.

….

‘So Hiroji, what do you want?’ Shivaji was honouring the workers who have built the Raigad, and was now asking its architect about his desired prize.

‘I will take my prize after your enthronement, my king.’

‘So be it’.

After the enthronement ceremony, when Maharaja Shivaji came to Jagadishwar temple, Hiroji Indulkar, the architect, removed a stone from the steps of the temple, to reveal an inner hidden one containing his name – ‘Always willing to serve, Hiroji Indulkar’ – and asked Shivaji:

‘Maharaj, each time you come to this temple, you will first step on my name. This is my prize.’

…

‘Sir, please open the gates. It’s very late now. I have to go home.’

‘We can’t open the gates, Hira. As per Maharaja Shivaji’s words, gate is to be closed from sun down to sun rise. We can arrange your stay on the gadh.’

‘But I have a small child… he will get scared if he doesn’t see me. Please…’

‘Sorry lady, king’s order.’

Hira, a milkmaid, regularly served milk on Raigad. On the eve of Kojagiri, a full moon night, she rested on the fort for a little more time and couldn’t return to her house in the village at the base of the Gadh. This gadh was guaranteed to be infiltratable by anyone from any sides of the gadh except from the front gates. But mother’s love overcoming the obedience towards the king, she found an unsecured way and climbed down the fort at night. The word reached the king, and it was evident that there was still a weak point to the gadh. If someone could get down undetected, someone might come up as well. The infiltrator was be handled right in order to set an example.

Hira was called up on the fort. Though she came up scared, shaking to hear the punishment that was now surely be hers, she was in for a surprise. Hira was rewarded, a new watchtower was to be constructed at the place she descended, and her name was to be given to that watchtower. Shivaji indeed set an example of how to handle people who accidently come across your weak spot.

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Roaming around on Raigad is awe inspiring. The construction itself is sight worthy, but more so are the tales that are associated with it. The grand darbar constructed so that any word spoken at any point of the darbar was heard by the king, the bazaar built at such height so that soldiers on their horses would find it easy to shop, the places for the ministers in government, the palaces of the queens, each place has a history of its own. A wanderer with an open mind can literally get lost in time here.

Mena Darwaja

It took 11 days for the English to burn down the gadh. They destroyed it totally, not sparing even the Shivaji Samadhi – memorial of death. It was later rebuilt by Lokamanya Tilak’s initiatives.

I first toured the fort with the rope way assigned guide, who takes a group of 30 people before moving on. Later, with the help of a map, I roamed around. The design of the fort is very ingenious. Before constructing the fort, Shivaji had studied the surroundings for months, before deciding that this would be the best place for a gadh. Geographically, it really is. While being a huge hill, Raigad is not connected with any other hills, and thus making it a safe high point in case of war.

The construction itself is creative. The stones used for building the fort are dug up on the gadh itself, and in the places where this was done, they had constructed deep lakes, some going as deep as 75 feet.

Balcony ruins

Palaces of the ministers

Jagadishwar temple in a distance

Marketplace

In background, Takmak tok, a straight cliff of 1300ft fall, where criminals would be pushed away!

Jagadishwar temple

Samadhi of Shivaji

The step in the above story – Seveche thaayi tatpar - Hiroji Indulkar – Always willing to serve

A guarantee by the architect that the temple would remain forever!

Lot of policemen and women were on duty. Why, you ask? Well, there is a statue of a dog near Shivaji Samadhi. It is said to be Shivaji’s loyal dog, which jumped in Shivaji’s burning pyre.

Now, one caste organization is saying that this isn’t so, and this statue is to be removed or broken. So for protecting the statue and maintaining peace – or peaceful breaking – police presence was huge. But they were not without style.

Dabangg style!

Clouds gathering on the gadh

Sitting atop one ‘shop’ in the bazaar

Yesterday’s drama group was practicing in the Darbar. Their performance was scheduled this evening. Therefore the place around the Shivaji throne was all staged up with bamboos and sticks, making it impossible to get clean shadow shots.

Afzal Khan was forcing me to wait for the performance in evening. But as the schedule was quite tight, I satisfied myself watching their practice for a while. His performance was already over. I asked him whether Afzal Khan returns in a dream sequence or something. He reminded me this was a drama, not a TV serial 'KKingg Shivajii'.

The actors practicing walk-ins. No prizes for guessing Shivaji.

While returning, I took a detour to Hirkani Buruj, named after the lady in the above story. It is quite far, and I made it only half the way, before being scared away from the gathering rain clouds. A few drops started splattering here and there, and I made a run towards the room. No sooner than a minute that I put the foot in the room had it started raining. Luckily I was spared of the free wash.

After a simple lunch on fort, I was back by the ropeway and on way to next stop of the day – Kashid beach.

Getting down from rope way

I didn’t dare to take yesterday’s back breaking path. I chose a longer but nicer route. When I started Vesta, I noticed her voice was not as usual. She is usually throaty and roaring on inclines, but this was different. I wondered whether it was about lack of oil. There were no garages on this side of the gadh. The next mechanic was 25 kilometers away in Mahad! I rode Vesta very gently till Mahad, praying she may go well without any hiccup. We reached the mechanic safe and sound, and I had her oil changed.

Then I remembered, Mahad is a name I read a lot in history books as a child. This is the town where Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar did his Satyagraha for getting the equal rights as mankind. That lake, the ‘Chavdar Tale

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:27 PM

Day 4 – The Man-made God

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After getting directed from this road to that lane many times, finally I was there, staring at them with wide eyes. This is where they are made! The Gods I am seeing from childhood, the brand name that is ruling the market for past many years. They were peeking from every window, every doorstep, no matter how small or big the house is. It seems all the locality has this one business that keeps it going.

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The Kashid hotel’s sucking prowess increased exponentially at night, when at about 4.30 A.M. the electricity was gone, taking out the fans. I laid awake turning and twisting on my bed for one hour sweating profusely, hoping that the generator would at least now be turned on, but it never saw the day of life. Finally opened some windows, and drowsed off to the tune of the winds and rains outside. So the wake up was late, and I had too much planned for the day’s itinerary.

I hurried to the road, and Kashid beach stopped me in my tracks. It was looking beautiful and inviting, but there was no time for it, not yet. I promised it that I will come in evening, shot a few pictures and moved on.

My major halt of the day was at Pen. Pen is a town where every State transport bus stops while going on to Mumbai Goa Highway. But it’s identity is not just its bus stop. It is the major manufacturer and exporter of Ganesha idols. ‘Pen Ganesha’ are exported worldwide, and in the places where Ganesha festival is celebrated in large scales, finding anyone who doesn’t know ‘Pen Ganesha’ is a very hard task, if not an impossible one.

Ganesha has always been my most favourite God from as long as I could remember. As a child, I could instantly connect to his elephant face or the pot belly or his vehicle the mouse or the modaka in his hand. The fascination did not decrease as the years went on, and though I am not as religious now as before, the love for Ganesha remains the same. For this very same reason, I was intrigued by the Pen Ganeshas. I wanted to see their manufacturing place, how they were made? Were they produced in a factory in masses, or were they labor of love, made individually? What exactly is the process to make a pile of sand or plaster of Paris? These were the questions that lead me to Pen.

The road from Kashid to Pen goes through sleepy villages such as Chaul, Revdanda and other small ones. You pass through the coconut plantations, through ruins of history, through busy hustling lives of the villagers. Plus with the Gulmohar trees in full swing burning the sky red, the ride is enchanting.

There is a turn before 3 kilometers of Alibag that lets you skip visiting Alibag and leads you directly to the road to Mumbai – Goa highway. Pen is located about 38 kilometers from here.

Luckily the rains had taken a holiday, so I was not needed to wear the raincoats today. But that meant my half sleeve covered hands were now open to Sun’s tanning, and he did a beautiful job. No amount of sun screen lotion would help, as one rides with his bare arms in the sun in that heat. The tan would now take days to get off.

Finally I reached Pen. Finding the Ganesha making kaarkhana – or industry is not at all difficult. Everyone knows about them, though everyone will have his own way to direct you towards it. Many times, they will even have preferences as to which shop you should visit and which ones to avoid. I filtered out the information from the noise from their advices, and finally landed in the lane – the Aali – that makes Ganesha and other idols for living.

I parked Vesta in front of a shop cum home, and froze with my finger on the camera’s shutter button. Where should I start from?

It was mesmerizing. Every small house and hutment was making some idols of Ganesha. Almost every shop had different styles of the idols. I was free to roam around. The people busy in making the idols had no time or inclination to watch me while I was taking photos, and were too shy to stop my camera.

All the old and young people were involved in the Ganesha idol making process. Each had different tasks, some were brushing off the extra plaster of paris from the freshly minted idols, some were giving it the first coat, some were drawing the ornaments and clothes, while others were simply waiting for customers, having finished a batch recently.

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HrsMHw/IMG_0589.jpg[/img]

Ganesha is one God in Hindu mythology that has undergone many artistic modifications over the years. There were hundreds of styles in which the God was made, each as fascinating as others.

The process of making the idols is an interesting one. I learned it from a sleepy boy, who was waked up by his mother to show me around.

First a sand idol is made in desired design. Its hands are removed, because any such outside hanging parts are prepared separately, and then joined together later. Then the idol is painted multiple times with rubber and cloth, to make a rubber clothing exactly in the shape of underlying idol.

Then a plaster of paris is applied from its all sides, to make the die for future idols. After it dries, the die is separated, and the inner idol is removed, to reveal a base die for next iterations.

The rubber coating that was on the idol is removed too, for placing inside the die.

It is looking elongated because it is only rubber with nothing inside.

For preparing the batch of idols, the rubber is now placed inside the die and the coats of plaster of paris are applied by hand. Then, the die is sealed shut, and is placed to dry. Once dried, you open up the die, remove the rubber, and Voila! A Ganesha idol is now ready.

Pen’s Kumbhar Ali – Potter’s lane is one of the many lanes that manufactures Ganeshas. It is not limited to the Gods though, as other earthen-made things such as pots too were displayed.

The last stop in Pen was near the riverside, where the bigger Ganeshas are made. The workshop is a make-shift shelter of plastic and patras, and houses thousands of under-process Ganeshas. I could spot at least 10 workers with many presumably gone out at 2 P.M. Ganesha making is the business that goes all year long, and provides income source to a large number of people.

Got to learn about the economy of the idols as well. Making a plaster of paris or sand idols takes about same time. But what differs is the money involved. A sand made idol costs bit higher than a plaster of paris one. Also, the finishing of the former can’t match the later. Thus, lured by low price and good finishing, the demand is naturally higher for plaster idols than the sand ones, and so is the supply.

But this is a vicious circle that is taking its toll on environment. The sand is fully water dissolvent, whereas plaster of paris is not degradable. In one of the past tours a few days after the immersion of Ganeshas, I was shocked to see many broken half pieces of the idols, and was deeply saddened to see this result of the Gods who were prayed to just a few days ago. I would request everyone, that even if it is a bit costly, to please go for a sand idol and not a plaster of paris one. It will definitely help the environment, and you will have the satisfaction that the idol you submerged is now part of the earth, and not part of the rubble waste.

Here I bid adieu to Pen, got blessings of the favourite God, rather many of them!

I started rolling back to Kashid. Much more time was gone into wandering in the Ganesha streets than anticipated, and I had no time for lunch. The animals in stomach were shouting at me, but I had to satisfy them by a hurried portion of Bourbon biscuits, for I wanted to catch the sunset on Kashid, along with roaming around in Revdanda.

Revdanda is one of the very old villages, whose reference can be found out even in Mahabharata. It was once very rich and a center of business in times of sea-trade. But by the rise of Mumbai port, the popularity of Revdanda and surrounding sea ports went on decreasing, and now it exists as a pass-along village on the Alibag-Murud road. It was called ‘Museum of India’, because almost all religions’ artifacts can be found here. While returning back, I knowingly took the inner roads, because that’s where the real road lies, not on the highway.

The inner roads are beautifully canopied by the tall coconut trees on both ways. They are in fairly good condition, and definitely motorable. I would suggest drive/ride on the inner roads; it is very different than passing through the highway.

There is a very old temple called Rameshwar. It is one of the famous temples in the area, just on the main road. It has a huge pond – Pokharan - in front of it, which was reflecting the temple nicely.

This is an old lodge ‘Om Aram’ circa 1945! It definitely looked as if hardly renovated ever since. And there were people living in it! Looking at it felt as if I am in the past, living in that time. The presence of the building is surreal.

Revdanda also housed a fort, which was now in ruins. Many people in the village whom I stopped to ask for directions, didn’t think it was worth anything. Many even didn’t remember it, and kept on insisting that the fort is in Murud-Janjira, and not Revdanda. I found the way around, and entered the rugged road that heads to the fort. It is indeed in ruins completely. It was a Portugese fort, but now only a few walls here and there and some structure is what remains. There was no one in sight, and I was riding very slowly and carefully. Suddenly a man popped up, thoroughly scaring me up.

‘HOLY SH… oh, it’s you.’

The watchman was not happy that I confused him for an apparition, and less so when I asked:

‘So is this all there is?’

Turned out it was so. But however less it was, it had a magical beauty of its own.

Here I remembered reading that nearby Korlai fort has a lighthouse, whose timings were somewhere around 6 P.M. I wanted to reach Kashid for sunset, but Korlai fort was just on way. So I twisted the throttle and let Vesta roar to speed. I am usually a sedate rider, and mostly tour two up, so I had kind of forgotten what a beast Vesta can be. She surprised me with sudden bursts of acceleration and literally throwing me back sometimes, responding beautifully to the accelerator. Riding her was always a pleasure in this trip.

I reached the little Korlai village, where the main business is of fishing industry. If someone you know can’t stand the stench of fish, and you want to get rid of him for good, bring him to Korlai. I am a fish loving person, either living or dead, so I didn’t mind the stench. The road to Korlai fort passes through the small backroads of the village, and sometimes I wondered whether I would end up in someone’s backyard, so small the roads were. Joined the incline that leads to the lighthouse and the fort.

On way up to the lighthouse

Finally reached on top from the slippery bumpy road. The Korlai fort stands majestically high up on the hill. I had neither energy nor inclination to climb up. So clicked it from a distance.

The lighthouse was open, but there was no soul nearby. The door leading to top of the lighthouse was open and unlocked, but the thought that what if someone locks it after I went up scared me enough not to venture in it.

I got down hurriedly, and went full speed to Kashid beach. This was my last stop for today. Reached there well in time for the sunset.

The beach was pretty empty, except some small groups of tourists. I chose a lone spot, and sat in silence. Silence was indeed my best friend on this tour, the other being Vesta. We spoke in thoughts, and a lot of confusion would melt away. It is surprising how just staying quiet can calm you and enlighten you. I think in schools and colleges, where we learn by speaking and hearing only, one hour should be dedicated just for silence, to learn from within.

The beach was clear of any garbage or filth. The empty sand stretch in front of me was inspiring the artist in me, and so I wrote:

While I was taking photos, two curious college boys came around me. They asked me why this Wrangler badge was written in sand. After explaining them the True Wanderer contest, they offered me to draw up a bigger Wrangler tag in the sand, and clicked my photo.

I had decided to check out from that insect zoo of a hotel, and didn’t care if I had to sleep in some shop’s cover. Anything would be better than this! Reached Murud about 15 kilometers from here, and scouted for hotels. I noticed that most hotels around the sea charged quite heftily, irrespective of what they offered. The hotel that I finally settled in had to be bargained with to install a TV set! I didn’t turn it ON at all, as was busy writing the blog and editing the photos, but it gave me satisfaction of getting my money’s worth!

Murud had a good range of Reliance, which meant my data card would finally be put to a use after many days. It also has many good hotels, one amongst them being ‘Patil Khanaval’. It is quite famous for its tasty food, and I can confirm that. Today I rode long distances, but meeting the Gods’ creators and venturing in the hidden unnamed streets of small villages made it worth.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:36 PM

Day 5 - Exploring the forgotten past

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Murud-JanjiraKude, our next stop for today. Maharashtra has many Buddhist caves, in fact it has 80% of the caves that are found in India. Some are totally forgotten, some near are used by slum dwellers for dirty activities, some are now hosting temples, while some are still living life of glory. The Kude caves fall in the forgotten category. As the aim of this trip, I wanted to visit all the places that finally come together to form Maharashtra, and hence, visit to a Buddhist caves was a must.

The scenic road passes near the sea, and through many villages.

The following scene repeated quite a many times, before I reached Kude.

Pass the bridge on the river

Conquering the Dive agar beachPrakat-SthanWadi

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:42 PM

Day 6 - To the last color in rainbow

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Ashram morning was totally different than my past experiences of hotels. The atmosphere was lovely; the rains had taken the morning off. This gave a good chance to roam around and photograph the interesting place.

It is , which houses a temple of Swami Samartha of Akkalkot. Swami Samartha was a saint in Maharashtra who lived around 1920s. His glory lives on long after his Samadhi, and there are many followers in Maharashtra and outside.

But the temple is not the only attraction of this Ashram. This Ashram is constructed on a big land, which mainly houses Ayurvedic plants along with a spice garden.

Magai paanRashi Nakshatra gardenNavagraha temple, which is the first and so far the only one in Konkan. These are the Navagraha idols placed in the temple.

After lunch, I left the ashram for Mahabaleshwar. But not before getting blessings from Swami Samartha.

In the seven colors of Maharashtra that we are seeing, hill station is the one that is not yet covered. Therefore, the next halt is Mahabaleshwar. The road is pretty straight forward, from Shrivardhan to Goregaon to Mahad and left to Poladpur. While going, I noticed some Buddhist caves on the left of highway, near Mahad. I stopped in anticipation, but then saw the height at which they were located. No way I was going to climb so many stairs, not with this much luggage or even otherwise. So I satisfied myself by clicking the Pala Caves

Got tired searching for good hotels, and settled in an okay one, which charged more than it deserved. Yet, that would be my bed tonight. Tomorrow I would go back to home, where family was awaiting me. Mahabaleshwar was the first place that I and Nandinee visited after marriage. Tomorrow I would leave Mahabaleshwar to meet her after 7 days. With a smile on my face, I slept for the last time in a hotel alone on this trip.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:48 PM

Day 7 - Homeward bound

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‘Please God, please God… let it be visible… please God.’

Climbing huffing and puffing over those steep stairs, I was praying to all Gods I could remember, may it be visible. Climbing up in that downpour with all the rain gear, a heavy backpack and a helmet was not easy, and I was particularly a non-athlete clearly not built for this. But having come this far, I wasn’t going to go back without even checking. I had to know whether it was really worth the hype.

Grasping the stitch in my ribs by hands, and trying to pull a roomful of air in each breath, I finally reached to top panting, and exclaimed:

‘Damn it! I said please, God!

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A foggy wet Mahabaleshwar wished me good morning today. My list of points to visit was ready, but there was one little problem in the plan. I depended on the visibility, which was at premium today. Still, I hoped for the best, filled my fill with heavy breakfast, and went out for hunt. M’shwar hotels have a peculiar checkout time of 9 A.M., extendable to 10.00 A.M. As there was no chance I could return so fast to the hotel, I chucked all the costly things in the backpack to carry, and kept the rest of the luggage with the hotel to collect later.

My first spot was Babington point. In tourist season, M’shwar resembles a maze where you are a rat trying to guess which road goes where, and whether or not it is a one way. The rat in me misjudged a road, where I just couldn’t see the sign or the policeman at the entrance of a no entry zone, and swiftly ended up getting caught by the policeman up on the no entry road.

‘Hold it! This is no entry road. License please.’

Oh no! What idiocy?! Let’s pay the fine and be done with it.

‘Give your license to me, and collect it from court at 12.00 noon, after paying Rs.100 fine.’

‘Any other option, Sir?’

‘Pay Rs.100 to me and forget about the receipt.’

I am all for anti-corruption, but in this case, I had no option to bribe. Roaming without licence in a town that lives off tourists is asking for trouble. This dampened my spirit of braving the points despite of the fog, and my logical side of the brain started thinking: What’s the point of visiting all the view points if all the views are going to be white fog? It had a good point, and I heeded to its advise. That cut down much of my itinerary for today. But the main point for today was Connaught’s peak.

Yesterday, I was asking around to travel agents about the lesser visited points in M’Shwar. One unanimous suggestion was Connaught’s peak. There were no pictures of that point in any travel agencies office, because no bus or tourist group goes there. Only a few handful tourists visit it. And no one had any doubt that it was the most beautiful point in M’Shwar. This naturally intrigued me. A point unanimously agreed upon as the best one, yet secluded from common visitor? Wow!

But the rain and fog were against me. I wouldn’t mind the rain much, this were after all his glory days. But the fog I had deep problems with. I always thought rains would melt away fog, but it was disproved by M’shwar where all day rains were accompanied by various thickness degrees of fog. I found my way to the Connaught’s peak, and rode towards it. Suddenly, the road just ended, with stone stairs starting in front of it.

With no board to show the direction, no one to ask whether this path leads to the peak, I had my doubts whether to park Vesta in the middle of nowhere, and whether to start climbing on those spooky stairs with layers of green moss showing the lack of visitors. But I hadn’t come this far just to get scared away by atmosphere. Braced myself, and started climbing the steps.

By half way, most of my energy was gone, and about 3/4th way, I was drained to the limit. For some reason I couldn’t fathom, I had kept the helmet on my head rather than keeping it locked on bike. This meant I was carrying an additional weight of 2 odd Kilograms more than necessary. The last few steps took real determination.

The description I heard of the place was enchanting. It was supposed to look like a green sheet of cloth laid from this hilltop to the other, all around. When I reached the top, unfortunately the fog had reached much prior than me. I waited a while on the peak, to the fog to give me some opening for shots, but no avail. Whatever I could see was beautiful. It was indeed a sheet of green, a dark foliage of green trees, stretching across hills. I am sure this would look beautiful in October-December season, when fog is on holiday.

Climbed those big stairs down, which was much easy now. The fog and the rain were combined forces that were ruining the tourists’ plans today, including mine. I decided to reduce the list of points to visit today, and headed for echo point.

Parking was erratic at best. Everyone wanted the best spot and big cars were feeling they were two wheelers, and thus were leaving the cars wherever they wished. As I don’t think there is a tow van in M’Shwar, they had no fear. I had trouble maneuvering Vesta near the points, and couldn’t imagine the car driver’s plight.

Luckily, fog took a 5 minute tea break here, and I clicked some pictures to have documentary evidence that I was in M’shwar. Otherwise all other photos resemble studio photos clicked with white screen in the background.

While returning, I stopped to have this customary strawberry icecream. I usually don’t touch icy products, but in hill-stations, I make exception to that rule!

Lastly, I visited the M’Shwar temple, which gave the place its name. It is an ancient stone temple, said to be 4500 years old! It is also an origin of total 5 different rivers! Really a geographical wonder. As always, photography was not allowed in temple, so my description alone should suffice.

There were many stalls selling local products such as juice and jams. This one particularly had a nicely set up stall.

A hot steaming sweet corn masala dish is perfect in rains!

Came back to hotel to treat myself to a heavy Rajasthani lunch. It was so much buttery and with sweets, that I was drowsy for a long time! Not a good decision to have heavy meals just before a long ride.

Checked out of the hotel, and joined the road to Pune via Panchagani. The fog was omnipresent, which ensured there was no point in taking a halt in Panchagani for sight seeing.

I rode straight down till Wai, a village famous for its Ganesha temple.

When I was sitting in front of that huge idol, I noticed something peculiar, and thought my eyes were deceiving me.

‘Pujariji, what’s in Ganesha’s right hand palm?’

‘His tusk.’ Ganesha’s one tusk is broken in a fight per mythology.

‘But then where is the blessings giving hand?’

‘There is none. This Ganesha idol doesn’t have that blessing structure.’

It was a first time I saw a Ganesh idol without a blessing hand, and in the chat that followed, learnt quite a few things. Wai is mainly famous for its Shiva temples, and such Ganesha temples or even other Gods’ temples are very rare in the area. In fact, this was one of the first few non-Shiva temples in Wai. The town Wai houses total 365 temples, and hence is called Dakshin-Kashi, or Kashi at South.

There is a Shiva temple just opposite the Ganesh temple. I visited there on the recommendation of the Pujari. The Nandi in this temple is carved from one stone, and looks nice.

After Wai, I moved to my last stop in this trip – Menavali. This is the village where Nana Fadanvis, a philosopher, minister and statesman of the Peshwa’s Maratha Empire lived. His wada or bungalow still stands, though there is not much left to see in it except historical importance.

My main reason to visit Menavali was to visit its beautiful Shiva temple along the river. This temple is made as a backdrop in many regional as well as national movies, more notably Gangajal, Dabangg, and Swades.

For some reason, this beauty kept on giving me scathing looks all the time I was there!

The river was nicely reflecting the temple. In morning, usually this ghaati is filled by local woman washing clothes, and getting good photographs is impossible. Luckily no one were there at 4.00 P.M.

The temple is very dark inside, and in fact I didn’t venture in it, because I couldn’t see anything inside the entrance. Prayed from the outside, and moved on. By this time, the village kids were jumping in the river for afternoon swim. They were more than happy to pose!

While coming back to highway, spotted this farm in full swing. I was thinking whether to set up a tripod, when I spotted a villager going by cycle somewhere. Stopped him, and handed him the camera. Turned out this was the first time in his life to hold a camera in hand! Still the photos turned out okay.

There is this old gate between Wai-Menavali that one has to cross.

My drowsiness was not showing any intention to wear off, so after a quick tea break at the Wai turn, I was on my way home. Rode full speed on the Pune-Banglore highway, and covered up good distances.

It was about 7.30 P.M. that I reached home. The odometer read 980 kilometers since I rolled out last Friday afternoon. Nandinee and Aai were waiting since evening. They had made preparations as if we were bringing Ganesha home!

It felt real nice to be in the family after seven days. Seven wild days, spent alone at various places, to get the tastes and flavors of Maharashtra. The odometer read close to a thousand kilometers. A thousand kilometers of wandering across my own state. Exploring what is hidden and forgotten from the common sight. Bringing out what we have taken for granted. Learning about the stuff that we hear since childhood. Connecting to past. Reaching out for glorious future. Seven days of wild ride with no company, no worry, no prejudice. Only an open mind and a motorcycle.

**animeher** · 06-20-2011, 12:49 PM

30 years later….

‘Grandpa, look! Daddy gave me a bicycle! I am going to explore all the of neighbourhood now!’

‘That’s good, kid. Did your daddy give you a helmet too? I will gift you one today evening.’

‘Great! Grandpa, Daddy was telling that you were a motorcyclist in your days?’

‘Why, he is lying! I was a motorcyclist even in his days!’

‘And you were selected from all over India for a Wrangler jeans contest?’

‘That’s true kiddo. I roamed in Maharashtra alone on a motorcycle for seven days that time. Your Grandma still taunts me sometimes for that freedom.’

‘So what happened afterwards? Did you win?’

‘Well…’

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Vesta tours and travels: Glimpses of Maharashtra in Seven Steps

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