The Poonal At Melkote

A bit delayed but never late than better as they say! After a huge uproar from the family frontlines on not getting to it and penning down the series of insignificant events that transpired during the significant occasion of the poonal, I have embarked on that slippery slope that is boat-full of trials & tribulations. Phew! 44 words in that sentence. Was actually trying to get to 50 but thought there should be a semblance of meaning to the diatribe so stopped when the going was good.

For those who are agog with curiosity and sitting at the edge of their seats wondering what the hell a poonal is, here goes – Poonal is the thread ceremony for adolescent boys in Brahmin families where they go through a day and half of frenetic pujas and rituals essentially transforming the unfortunate soul into manhood. A big event and as the boys’ side hardly do anything for their weddings (I mean the actual wedding ceremony before you all get your panties in a knot), the poonal takes on an all important significance as ‘THE’ event of the family!

Okay! Now, that the background is all there, allow me to indulge myself as I going into excruciating detail of everything that is not related to the actual poonal ceremony.

Departure from Bangalore, amidst much fanfare and hoopla was at 8:30 a.m. bang on schedule, a never before seen feat in our family. As is wont, breakneck speed from our car saw us reach Shivalli in an hour. Alright! We shall talk about Shivalli now!!

The wayside restaurant is roughly 60 km from Bangalore. The long cone frustum like idli (Kadabu idli) is the magnum opus here. An excellent place for South Indian vegetarian food, pretty much anything on the menus is delicious and the service is great. However, when a family pack of wolves descend on this august establishment, all hell breaks loose. Our tentative and refined ordering started with 25 masala dosas, 16 khara bhaats, a few Kesari Bhaats for thrown in for good measure and some other goodies that might feel bad for being left out. A look of terror flashed over the helpless waiter’s face but he was up to it and soon the Wolfgang Pack was digging in lustily. The first wave done, we were now ready to wash it down. Coffee and tea orders poured in thick and fast. And of course, there were customized orders too; no sugar, less sugar, less milk, more milk, I could go on.

Our feasting done in a new family record time (1 hr 17 mins flat), we set off once more towards our goal – Melkote. Enroute, I decided to have a futile race with a red Honda CRV and that battle was lost before it began. At Mandya, about 100 km from Bangalore, we took the deviation to Melkote. Here, we embarked on another speed racing adventure, this time with one of the family vehicles, a Tata Sumo. This match-up was to my liking and I drove like a maniac to ensure victory at the post (0 Km milestone in Melkote).

The temple town of Melkote is a huge sprawling metropolis of bars, pubs, discotheques and multi-storey office buildings. The suave and sophisticated citizens party all day and night and it’s a truly happening city.

Okay! Okay! I exaggerate a trifle. The road to this place actually ends in Melkote. Two temples, one on a rocky hill and one where the road terminates are all that this village has to offer. Chock full of Iyengars and priests, Melkote is a charming hamlet with scorching temperatures and nothing else.

As our retinue arrived, it was clear that this was the most happening event this town had witnessed since the temple was built in 1000 AD. Not the quietest of families, we soon made our presence felt in no uncertain terms.

The first ceremony in the evening saw the family attending in full force and other than the participants (my nephew, my cousin and his wife), no one really was into the intricate rituals that pervaded the big hall. We had other immediate concerns – you guessed it – FOOD! And how!! Starting from lunch, we pretty much stuffed our faces for 36 hours starting with the unbridled mayhem at Shivalli.

I know you’re all biting your teeth in excitement with the narrative thus far so am going to kick it up a notch now. Ready? No?? Well, I’m going with it anyway…

One of my nephews, a true Cassanova, was in his elements during this trip. The best part was that he didn’t even have to lift a finger. A distant relative ( a girl), whom for the sake of this public forum posting, I shall not name, was drawn to my nephew like bees to honey. Starting from the Saturday afternoon when my erudite nephew landed up, until the time we left on Sunday evening, she was Velcro to him. Every meal and every instance saw them together and she constantly went out of her way to ensure she was positioned next to him in any situation or family formation. While a source of immense mirth to the rest of us (not to mention a little insane jealousy by us guys that this fellow was eye candy in a temple town), it caused great discomfiture to my nephew. Heeheeheehee!!. At one point, when we were sitting for breakfast in the usual set-up i.e. my nephew and the girl next to each other, all I had to do was send a text message to another nephew in the adjacent hall to come check out the seating arrangement. Half a second later, he appears with a video camera to film the proceedings in an understated fashion. Our family is good! We also managed to provoke a Sivaji Ganesan like outburst from my nephew when confronted with some hard facts! I will not go into the entrails of this.

Sunday morning saw a few of us climb the rocky steps to the temple on the hill. Yoganarasimha is the god on top and ascending the 365 steeply inclined steps was hard work. Strangely, the deity himself resides on the side and not in the entrance and once inside, the place suddenly turns into a mass of sweating devotees pushing and shoving and making it very obvious as to why Yoganarasimha has a bewildered look on his pristine countenance.

That aspect of our religious duties done and having successfully but inadvertently eluded the core of the poonal ceremony, we returned to a sumptuous meal with the usual lunch-time seating regimen.

We finally departed from Melkote, stomachs sated, and content (of course my nephew was sated in other ways, dang it!!) in mind and body but never the worse for wear. A well spent weekend among gods and traditional brahmin rites, the extended time with the family was priceless and reinforces our decision to move back to India. Looking forward to the next big trip!

Balamurali: Man, Genius or God?

Every year, Bangalore hosts a month long music festival in April and May. It's done during the Ramanavami festival and held at Fort High School in Chamarajpet.

The grand finale this year, something I wouldn't have missed for the world, was the performance by Dr. Balamurali Krishna. For those unaware of this doyen of musicians, he is one who coughs and it sounds melodious.

The invocation Sakalaka Pari Purna in Aarabhi pretty much set the stage for the rest of the evening. A beautiful rendition of Raghuveera Ranadheera in Huseni followed. His exposition of Kamvardhini through Ramave Bhakti Yentho was to die for. Next was the evergreen Nanu Paalimpa (Mohana) and his control and variations were stupendous to hear.

Not satisfied with others' composition, the good doctor has 2000+ compositions to his name. He gave us a rare insight into Thanarupi (Melakartha Raaga #6) with his very own Sree Ramam Bhajeham and the devotion with which he sang was sure to bring the gods down from heaven to listen.

He then moved on to another Thygaraja's composition Sri Ramya Chithalanka in Jayamanohari. A short and sweet self composition in Sarasaangi Hanuma Anuma O Manama was then presented and the unique aspect of this song is that, the syllable 'ma' coincides every time with the swara 'Ma'. Amazing! True Genius!!

Timeless and soulful, Pibare Raama Rasam in Ahir Bhairavi was delivered so well that it brought tears to my eyes. Not to disappoint the Karnataka audience, we got to hear Alli Nodalu Raama (Kamas) which is a Purandara Daasa song.

The penultimate song was one composed by his grandfather Raama Raama Ena Raadha and though very small, was extremely melodious. No wonder! If his grand-dad composed this, it's obvious where the talent came from.

A Thyagaraja thillana in Behaag rounded off the best musical night of my life!

At 77, Dr. Balamuralikrishna has the depth, range, creativity and melody that I have not seen in any other singer, ever. An undoubted genius, he plays the violin, the veena, mridangam and the viola with equal competence. It was a privilege to listen to his singing in person and I fervently hope that I get to attend his concerts as many times and in as many places as possible.

Manasi and the Numbers Game

Manasi: Thaatha, how old you are?
My Dad: 71
Manasi: When I am 71, how old will you be?
My dad: 142
Manasi: When I am 142, how old will you be?
My dad: 210
Manasi: When I am 210, how old will you be?
My dad: 280
Manasi: You don't go to god?

Manasi: How much fees for school pappa?
Me: 11,000
Manasi (with a gasp of surprise): That is more than 1299!!!!

Another Mysore trip

Whenever we have a long break and we can't think of anything to do, we make a trip to Mysore. Avid readers of my blog would have figured out by now that I love that place like it was my own. Well, actually, it is my own.

Due to the little uns with us ( 5 years or younger), we were obliged to do the zoo. Not the most exciting prospect for me as I have been to the Mysore zoo about 2 times in my 40 years. The last trip was in 1988 where a misguided bunch of us college students ended up with the animals no doubt pursuing game in the nature of the fairer sex.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that they've really cleaned up the place. It used to be a dump with the man eating Bengal Tigers resembling cows from drought stricken areas that are often shown on TV and educe a few dismayed clucks and head shakes from us before we change the channel to understand who Kareena Kapoor is doing now.

Ok, back to the zoo. Lots of private sponsors have transformed the animal pens into remarkably clean and healthy environments. True, it’s quite sad to see a full grown tiger in a cage but at least they have a lot of place to roam around during the wild-life office hours (8:30 a.m. – 5:30 p.m.).

The kids of course had tons of fun and the one thing that struck the human adults (me included) was the enormity of the African Tusker indifferently munching branches the size of a Cessna.

I also got to see some snakes, an ever fascinating sight. All the animals, birds and reptiles looked in good physical form. The only drawback of the private sponsorships for the animals was that the names of the sponsors appeared in large bold type (Font Size: 450) and the actual inhabitant of the cell or cage had it’s name in an unassuming size 20 font. This resulted in us having to put our face about 6 inches from the sign to figure out if we were looking at a white tailed African Mongoose or Mr. & Mrs. Chellamulla Vandrapondi.

Due to a non-committal remark by my aunt to the kids that there was a water park in Mysore, we were pummeled into taking the brats to GRS Water Park, a behemoth of a park with all sorts of fun things to do in and outside water. The park is actually quite good and as usual the kids had a blast. Mysore being what it is, the water activity areas were resplendent with large, dark women fully clothed in saris and salwars frolicking mindlessly in the water. There were even ladies with dupattas in the water, not to forget all their jewelry which was probably a good thing since I doubt those trinkets had been washed since the weddings in 1954.

Always a nostalgic time in Mysore, we finally bid adieu on Sunday and got back to the pollution, noise and traffic that passes off as Bangalore City, or is it Bengaloory City-yu?

Our 13th Anniversary

I know she doesn't like the mushy romantic stuff but that doesn't stop me from doing stuff. I spent a good part of the evening trying to make a CD of romantic songs. Talk about pressure! Phew! Anyway, I was rewarded with insane laughter when I played the CD in the car. Insane laughter in short durations I can deal with, but when it crosses the 10 minute mark, one does wonder if it's all worth it. However, I did get grudging approval for the song selection. I'll take what I can get, and what the heck, it's not every day we celebrate our 13th anniversary dammit!

Dinner was out of the world. Blue Ginger at Taj West End is the ultimate destination for Vietnamese food in Bangalore. I highly recommend it. In fact, it's one of the best Vietnames cuisines I've ever had. If you ever go there (and you definitely should), do try out their rice paper rolls and the mango salad. They are to die for! Fantastic ambience, great service and no mosquitos! Rampant overeating happened.

Post dinner, we met up with friends and family at what is becoming our favorite night-time haunt - LakeView. Unfortunately, I couldn't do justice to the mouth watering dessert offerings and had to settle for a mosambi juice. Dang! Life is tough sometimes!

The Lightness of Being

Losing weight is not as tough as it sounds. Sure, it needs the usual stuff like discipline, balanced diet and crap like that. But, finally, it’s setting timed goals for yourself and going out and achieving those goals. That’s all there is to it.

January 1, 2008 – One look at the photographs from our Coorg trip made it very evident that I may be a bit on the heavier side. Ok, fine! Not a bit…a lot!! Ok, I’ll give you the numbers – 45 pounds or 20 kg over peak/ideal/healthy physical form.

On Jan 2nd, as reality hit me, I hit the gym with equal vigor. I started off with 15 minutes on the treadmill and 15 minutes on the cross-trainer 6 days a week. A quick bout of weights and strength training also went into this regimen, though not very consistently for the first month.

Feb 1st week, I was down from 92 kg to 88 kg. Whew! Quite happy with that. Not much dieting though, other than no rice on weekdays and a complete stop of sodas and bottled/canned juices. However, the weekends still involved some binging.

In Feb, I scaled things up a notch. 30 minutes on the treadmill, 30 minutes on the cross-trainer and 10 minutes weights. Still the same diet and nothing else changed. Oh, I did start walking up the stairs (7 floors) at work.

End of Feb, I was at 85 kg. A little less loss but still doing well. Regularity continued to be 5-6 days a week. End of March, the scales read 83 kg. Hmm…the drop rate was reducing but that’s how it is after a certain point or else we’d all disappear one day. There were quite a few lapses in the diet though, with a Delhi trip where I ate like there was no tomorrow and even had rice a few weekdays for dinner! Egad!! Bad boy!!

It’s almost the end of April now, and the weight hvers precariously between 80-81 kg. Hope to hit 70 kg by the end of the year. Wish me luck!!

Oh, almost forgot. The goals!! The March wedding in Delhi was the first one. Upcoming ones are – my nephew’s thread ceremony on May 10, my cousin’s wedding on May 25th, the wife’s birthday on August 25th and finally my own birthday in Jan. Just hope I can keep going and get back to the rakishly handsome devil that I never was!

Do roll back in for the year end report which will undoubtedly include an honorable mention of the vital statistics. Hey! there's another goal!

IPL!!

Lucky us! We got free member passes to the first ever IPL match on Friday (April 18) that kicked off in Bangalore! The inauguration was outstanding with Shankar Mahedevan singing, gymnasts, the Redskin Cheerleaders, laser show and high energy music and effects. The game became secondary as the crowd strained to get a glimpse of their favorite stars - Shah Rukh, Shilpa Shetty, Katrina Kaif, Juhi Chawla (my favorite!!).

An interesting end to the festivities when we drove to the Richie Rich in Kumara Park and a friend of a friend of a friend, totally inebriated, fired a shot in the air with his gun, after one of our friends needlessly provoked him asking if he was carrying around a water gun! We got the hell of out of Dodge after that one!

Family Planning

Ok, it's not what you think. Here I expound on how any occasion that calls for miniscule levels of coordination and planning are recipes for disaster in our family.

My niece (and also my cousin by some twist of fate) had her birthday recently. Her brother wanted to organize a surprise for her. The surprise comprised of the rest of the family members lying in wait and ambushing her at the crack of midnight (when she got home) and all of us shouting out in unison ‘Happy Birthday’ or something of that nature.

While chock-full of hilarity and confusion, it’s an understatement to say that things didn’t go according to the carefully laid out plan.

First, my nephew (the brother) was asked by my niece to drop her off at friend’s place for a party around 10:30 p.m. This kind of put a spanner in the works as he had asked another friend of hers to take her out in the evening and bring her back home at midnight where we were all faithfully waiting in anticipation.

Ever ready for contingencies (not!), my nephew adjusted the strategy appropriately so her friend could pick her up from the party, go out and return her home by midnight. Unfortunately, none of us really knew where my niece was or where her friend was. Frantic SMSes did nothing to allay our confusion as we were in the dark as to whether she was:
a) at the party with her other friend
b) at the party with her other friend and the friend who was in cahoots with us
c) with the cahoots friend at some other location

This might seem like funny to some, but believe me, to the great minds of our family poring over the plans with PowerPoint presentations, simulations and attack strategies, this was quite a stressful event.

Thinking on its feet, as our family is famously known for, we decided that we would run up the stairs before she entered and shout out whatever we needed to shout out from upstairs as she walked in. As it happens with most plans of this sort, we really didn’t debrief everyone on the plans. My wife, due to late nights in the last few days, was fast asleep on the sofa curled up with a shawl. A few others were not updated on the latest plan either.

Hark! We hear a car pull up outside the house. The Planning & Execution Commission (P&EC) is immobile. The door bell rings! A mad rush ensues. My cousin’s wife, showing a never before seen nimbleness, is off the blocks and upstairs in about 1.37 seconds flat. My niece tries to open the front door. My nephew stands in her way and attempts to engage her in nonsensical conversation. She glimpses a salwar-clad lady shooting up the stairs at considerable speed. Her suspicion about my nephew’s nocturnal activities is aroused and she uses the light from her cell-phone to peer into the house. The speedy lady’s husband (my cousin) is standing behind my nephew with his held out in a big wave, a big smile and a ‘Hi’ to ensure my nephew’s plans have no possibility of success, however small. In the meantime, my cousin's friend who unfortunately happened to be part of the surprise party is unsure on his line of action. My wife is fast asleep so he closes his eyes too thinking that is the surprise. He also sees the contingent trying to rush up the stairs and is in a conundrum as to which team to follow.

With all this chaos, my nephew gets a message on his cellphone from my niece’s friend indicating that my niece will be home in a couple of minutes. Damn technology! It’s never there when you need it!

The family is not one to let a minor defeat bog us down. We have bounced back. We are already in full battle-mode planning for the next surprise birthday party. To ensure there are no loose ends, we plan to involve the surprisee from the start so we are guaranteed of success…

The Bhadra Project

Most trips you do during vacation have some element of excitement or elevated activity. The Bhadra jungle lodge trip was not one of them.

Our two families (the four of us along with Sri, Shaila and their kids) embarked on what was going to be a thoroughly uneventful but extremely enjoyable road trip. The end of March is typically a reasonable season to be in the Shimoga area, especially in the jungles. We had a hearty breakfast in Kamat (Tumkur) where the main event was when Sri & Shaila’s 2 year old Vedant proceeded to lick the underside of the table we were sitting at; two nice and full coats, just for the record.

We all did a pretty decent job of confusing our 12-seater van’s driver by using the iTrip, iPOD and radio combination. Other than that, our dour driver limited his interactions with us to occasional glares and grunts of disapproval when one of our tightly wound kids misbehaved or when we couldn’t get the van door to shut with a gentle yank.

The drive was quite beautiful with tons of greenery, shrubbery and a multitude of hues and colors alongside the road. We got to Bhadra around 2 p.m. and as my ever efficient wife had given the lodge denizens an inkling of our impending arrival, hot food awaited us. The eats were quite delectable, to say the least.

A jungle safari was going to happen at 4:30 p.m. and with Vaishnavi threatening me with dire consequences if I didn’t go along, I dragged myself off the inviting bed and sluggishly walked down to the safari jeep. Luckily for me, the jeep filleth over and we trudged back, with Shaila and me hoping for a nice nap. However, the Chennai folk in our party would have none of that and we walked down to the water with a promise from the resort people that some one would come down and provide us ‘Water Sports’. Though, this sounds like an Olympic event, what it actually means is that people jump up and down on a huge life boat-like trampoline a short distance from the shore. Luck was definitely with me that day and no one showed up so the motley crew ascended back to the cabins and I quick slunk away to take a nap.

Dinner was another big event with quite a spread of both vegetarian as well as normal food. Desperate to keep the kids occupied, a DVD was brought in as a savior and helped the children stay out of trouble and our hair for a couple of hours.

Post dinner, with all the brats safely asleep, the girls decided to read. Sri and I were quite lost and strived valiantly to imitate crickets. We personally felt that the performance was exemplary but the women, obviously jealous of our newly acquired skills did not see it that way. I must say that the crickets stopped their chirping as a result of the strong show we put up, and there is no doubt that the Bhadra Cricket Association was planning some kind of a revolt against us humans. Things became eerily silent but that didn’t stop us, as we continued chirping away. To be unbiased, we actually sounded like a cross between a duck, a cricket and a frog with some kind of severe affliction of diarrhea.

The elephant camp was up next on our program for day 2. We first watched the bathing of the elephants and were also severely reprimanded by one of the elephant washers for letting our kids get dangerously close to a alpha male tusker who seemed oblivious to our presence.

Bare-back rides on the elephants were next and Shaila had the best time here as she held on to the mahout for dear life and I’m sure he had a few joint aches after the death grip she had on his non-existent love handles.

I had a minor encounter with a 3 month old baby elephant which decided to head-butt me and pushed me a few feet despite my best attempts at holding my ground. Man, these pachyderms are incredibly powerful!

Our elephant adventures over, we returned to our beloved resort, and after some splashing around in the muddy river, as usual were the first ones in the dining area, all ready for lunch. Our feeding frenzy caught the attention of all and sundry as the entire battalion of the resort staff turned up faithfully every time our two families commenced our eating.

As there was no way out of the safari this time, I grudgingly acquiesced to go along for a nap-time conflicting jungle jaunt. Mind you, I have nothing against safaris per se. However, I have a enviably dismal track record. I’ve lived in Africa and been through the forest areas of Bandipur and Mudumalai numerous times and other than an occasional deer, have yet to sight any wildlife worthy of talking about. Readers of my Coorg trip will recall that I was party to a safari in Nagarhole which is not worth mentioning again.

Anyway, this time was no different. The driver and his side-kick tried their best though. We saw a few goats and dogs at first and then we entered the sanctuary. I must say the trip wasn’t too bad as the view during the drive was breath taking and we did see a few peacocks, deer and some Indian bison. Here, Shaila, for no apparent reason started clicking photographs frantically on the return journey and we were rewarded with vague images of trees, grass and a blurred image of what she claimed was a bison.

Back at the resort again, more eating, resting and some more eating. With the kids safely in bed thanks to our nanny, we played a couple of rounds of Hollywood Rummy and it was off to bed. Though we had booked the cabins for three nights, the lack of TV and constantly having to entertain our brood was too much for us and we checked out the next day after a boating trip for the guys and kids, and a re-run of the safari trip for the big girls in our group. They did have better luck and saw wild dogs just after a kill. It just has to be my damn luck!!

A boring story

If you already know all about drilling a bore for water or have no interest in knowing, read no further. For others, please put up with the painful details!

The two massive trucks plodded on to my land. One was the actual vehicle with the drilling rig and the other was the support vehicle. It's amazing how efficient the large crew is once they have placed the truck in the right position where the water diviner had zeroed in on the spot where we should get water. Curiosity was on two fronts for me. One, to see how the heck this truck would be used to drill a few hundred feet into the earth, the other. to see if the water diviner was actually correct in predicting where we would find the critical aqua.

The drilling rig, is a humongous crane like device. The diesel motor for this is a behemoth and makes a din like a factory power generator. The support vehicle contains all the tools, including drill bits, drill rods, casing pipes and the like. Drill 'bit' is quite a misnomer as it requires two strong sturdy men to lift. Actually, pretty much every tool or accessory in this ensemble is XXXL in size and weight. The spanner, for example, is about the 3 feet long!

The first step - Get a drill bit, about 8" diameter to go down about 5 feet at the exact spot that has been pre-divined. The act of drilling kicks up enough dust to remind one of a sandstorm in the desert. The bit is then removed. By the way, in parallel to the first drilling, there's a group of people removing the casing pipes from the support vehicle and the cook starts arranging all the utensils, firing up the gas stove in preparation for lunch. There’s also a team taking out the drill rods from the support vehicle.

The next step involves three men carrying the first drill rod and attaching it to a holder in the crane. The moment the rod gets clasped into the holder, a hydraulic mechanism pulls the holder and the rod with it to about 20 feet in the air. The bottom end of the rod is then fixed to the drill bit and the drilling starts in earnest. Meanwhile, a rod holder next to the 'in-use' rod is fixed with the next rod in waiting. Once the first rod disappears into the earth 15 feet or so, the next rod automatically moves into place, attaches to the first rod and so the drilling continues. The combination of drilling and high hydraulic pressure results in the hole being dug at high speed ejecting out immense quantities of dirt at first and then sand as the drill bores deeper.

The drill hit solid rock at about 68 feet. The bit had to be changed at this point to drill through the rock. All the rods had to be now removed. The casing pipes were then inserted one by one for the entire depth of the hole until the start of the solid rock. Each pipe was then welded to the next and inserted into the hole one by one until about 4 feet of casing pipe was sticking out of the ground.

By this time, the activity on our land had attracted the nearby village folk. There were a lot of questions on how we got hold of this drilling company, who my cousin was and what we intended to do on this land interspersed with unsolicited advice and suggestions. Fun all the way!!

Once the casing pipes had been installed, a new drill bit was put into place and drilling once again started in earnest from 68 feet onwards. Drilling rock is obviously not a cake-walk and nothing like drilling through soil. A huge clatter of the drill, the rocks it hit against and the noise of the diesel motor ensued in wonderful cacophony.

The cook had delivered on his role by now; lunch was ready and the workers in turns had their fill of some deliciously smelling sambar, rice and vegetables. I was a bit astounded by the quantities of rice that each one ate, but then, with the amount of heavy lifting they do, they’re bound to have appetites like elephants.

We finally hit our first water source at 190'. Quite amazing actually, as the water diviner had told me that we would get water before 200'. It was great to see the water gushing out due to the pumping action. The soil and crushed stone spewing out of the hole first started to get a little wet and then a huge surge of water started. At first it was the color of cement but slowly changed color to become a little more muddy brown in appearance. Elation cannot describe how I felt. Without water, you’re pretty much dead in the water! My belief in the water diviner has also been further renewed! What a magician!!

We hit two more water sources between rocks at 290' 360' and two sources around 450'. The drill finally could go no further at 512 feet and that’s where we stopped. How do we know these measurements? Once the drilling is done, each rod is measured and counted when taking out. There were a total of 27 rods, each measuring around 19'.

After a few quick calculations with a V-Notch, the engineer/owner of the drilling company told us that we would be getting 16,200 liters/hour which is enough to supply water to 30-40 homes a month!

Stay tuned for more exciting (and upcoming) events at the farm.

A great vacation (with some footwear loss)!!

The year 2007 ended very well and 2008 began nicely enough too. The extended family hereafter referred to as the 'Barbarian Horde' (or just horde for short) took off to Coorg, about 14 of us, ages 4.5 - 45.5.

We did the obligatory stop at the Namdroling Monastery and got to Madikere late in the evening. The homestay place we'd booked was just great! Three rooms on the ground floor, a loft with wooden floors big enough for 20 people to sleep in, a wonderful Man Friday who cooked amazingly well, what more could we ask for.

Day 1 (Dec 29) - The first morning in Madikere, we took off to Dubare Elephant camp keeping military time (which means we decided we would leave at 7:30 a.m. and left at 10 a.m.). Of course, we were too late for the elephant rides though the mahouts grudgingly allowed the kids to get a mini-ride.

The horde, in a moment of delusionary adventurism, decided to walk back across the river. Our lean, muscular and agile bodies not withstanding, it was no cake-walk, to put it mildly. The rocks were slippery as hell, the current was strong and our eclectic group, not the steadiest of foot, was in deep, before we realized it. As if it to further highlight our incompetence, local boys skipped and lithely crossed the river nonchalantly. We did finally make it across, sans a pair of slippers and a cell phone back panel which mysteriously disappeared during my cousin's fall at the tail-end of the great crossing.

After a bad lunch, we set off to Talacauvery, the birth place of the the Cauvery river. Here, I was made to climb the 100 odd steps to BrahmaGiri, which is a plateau behind and above the spring where the Cauvery starts. On the way back, my sandals went missing. No idea who would want my feet wrappers!

Day 2 (Dec 30) - A visit to a real estate. This was way too cool. Coffee, pepper and other crops flourished abundantly in verdant green hills and valleys. We saw some real estate work in progress here and a few of us also tried our hand at beating the batta (rice in the husk). A few minutes of this action, and we all needed a few bananas to re-invigorate our non country selves. A short walk from there and we came upon a beautiful bungalow, at least a 100 years old. More drinks to cool ourselves and then back to the homestay. It was music night and the midnight oil was burnt as we bravely attempted songs in numerous languages.

Day 3 (Dec 31)- My cousin's wife slipped and twisted her ankle in an innocuous depression in the ground and we took this opportunity to stuff ourselves with junk food. We carried on through some of the most breath-taking country-side I have ever seen and got to Iruppu Falls in the afternoon. A few bad jokes later with the play on the word 'Falls', we reached the actual Falls where the water was ice cold. Some of the big boys in the horde dared to stand under the falling water and it apparently was exhilarating.

From here, it was on to Nagarhole wildlife sanctuary and the areas we drove through looked like Scotland, the only difference being the coffee plantations. I need to give some details of our Nagarhole safari ride as it's a safari ride that begs for details.

The safari bus was a 19-seater making the most horrendous racket. When I excitedly pointed out to a few deer on the road-side to my daughter, the driver turned back and mumbled something. I tried to catch his hastily spoken words but couldn’t. I finally got what he was saying. He was shushing me saying that I was disturbing the animals! For one, the deer couldn’t have been less bothered about our presence but, more importantly, the bus could have given a howitzer a run for it’s money in terms of the noise factor. Anyway, we gamely carried on. Every once in a while, the driver would stop the bus and dramatically peer to one side. The 19 people would instinctively turn in anticipation. The best we did was a few plants. Most of us actually fell asleep during the safari and the end of the epic adventure, our impressive score read: 63 deer, 1 peacock, 1 tame elephant and 2 diary cows.

We actually saw a full grown female bison when we were driving out of the wildlife sanctuary. Mysore was the next destination and we arrived around 9 p.m. on New Year’s eve driving through some terrible roads.

The rest of New Year’s eve was a lot of fun. More eating, a little more eating, some Hollywood Rummy, a few Nagaraj Rao jokes (this requires a separate blog entry) and lo and behold it was ‘Happy New Year’ to everyone.

It was great being in the family homestead on New Year’s day and we returned to Bangalore, sad that our holiday was over, but happy about the time we all had. Hoping to do more of these family trips in the years to come!