I am no water baby. I prefer water at a close but safe distance – close enough for me to be able to hear the myriad gentle sounds that water makes but far enough for me to feel safe about not drowning (yes, I know but we all have different fears). Cherai is perfect for me that way – just what the doctor ordered. The Cherai Beach Resort where I stay has cottages built around the water, and around the coconut trees – my room had a tree in one corner, growing out through the roof. From my room, I can see the backwaters stretching out blue and green, still but for the occasional splash splash of boats making their way across, or the sea gulls calling out to one another. And from the main gate, the beach is just across the road – Cherai, not yet Goa, not even Kovalam.

At dinner in the restaurant, a couple from Europe walk in with a Bisleri bottle filled with a thin white liquid – toddy. The restaurant manager freaks at the sight of the toddy, hurries into the kitchen and walks out with a sheet of silver foil. He proceeds to cover the Bisleri bottle with the foil, apologizing to the startled couple – no permit… cannot drink in restaurant… can give you tea cups… I overhear snatches of his speech, ears on their table, eyes on my book. He places white tea cups (with saucers, the terrible restaurant variety) in front of them, pours out the toddy into the cups and offers them the cups with a flourish. The couple is terribly embarrassed by now, and I am choking with laughter over my tender coconut water – drunk straight from the coconut, no tea cups for this one.

I could spend hours just staring the backwaters – and I do just that. Watching the birds swoop down to pick up their lunch – or evening snack, as the case may be. And the tiny fish go plop plop as they hop – or do they fly? – on the surface of the calm water. And the fishermen who paddle quietly across the water through the day. As I watch, dawns break over the backwaters, the sky slowly picking up the orange hues of the sun, the water reflecting the tones. Three fishing boats moving in synchronized fashion, they stop at the same spot, their boats forming a triangle of sorts, and spread out their nets at the same time, their hands flying out with the nets in some kind of fascinating water ballet. And then they move on a few meters along the water and the ballet begins all over again.

Another fishing boat comes very close to where I am standing, just by the side of the water inside the resort and I am able to see them in action – one man in charge of rowing and the other, of fishing. Against the morning sun, the waters, their boat and even their silhouettes seem a dull orange… and as they turn the corner, moving away from the sun, they reappear in dull greys and black and white, in some ways even more fascinating than the “color version”.

The Cherai backwaters are not as lively, as vibrant and full of activity as the ones in say, Alleppey where life exists on and along the water. There are few houses I can see on the banks, even during my hour long boat ride in the evening. But then, Cherai is not for those who crave activity. In any case, if the backwaters get too dull, then they can always head out to the beach just across the road…

At a time when the world had long ago discovered the greens and blues of Kerala, the alluring backwaters of Alleppy and the warm beaches of Kovalam (and perhaps getting tired of the same images), director Maniratnam put a small spot in North Kerala on the map. Thanks to his evocative shots of lovers torn apart by a hostile world (in his movie ‘Bombay’), suddenly the rain-drenched ramparts of Bekal became one of the most romantic destinations within Kerala. It seemed the perfect rendezvous, hidden in the heart of Kerala and far from prying eyes. And the canny Kerala government seized this opportunity with both hands and suddenly, God’s own tiny country was officially larger on the tourist circuit.

Pic : Charu

We feel a rush of anticipation as we drive towards the fort, a visit that has been planned for many years about to materialize. At first glance, the Bekal fort is unassuming, especially after the excitement created by the plethora of signboards that guide you towards it, all the way from Mangalore to the North or Trivandrum deep down South. It sits lonely and tired at the edge of the waters. But as you make your way slowly to the top of the fort and then walk around the edges, seeing the Arabian Sea stretch out in front of you, the magic of the location sinks in.

There are groups of young girls in their bright salwar kameezes and school children in their staid uniforms inside the fort at the time we visit, adding noise and color to the otherwise peaceful scene. Still high in the sky, the sun is far from ready to call it a day and the sea is still rough though tiny boats are making their way bravely into the choppy waters. At Bekal beach nearby, crowds have already begun to troop in to watch the famous sunset on the Arabian Sea, and on top of the fort, young couples and families with small children have found themselves little corners from which to enjoy the evening breeze.

Pic : Charu

The fort seems to rise majestically from the sea itself, the waves washing over its walls the way they have done for centuries now. Bekal fort is made of the stuff that signifies unfulfilled romance, secret yearnings and patient waiting. Looking at the way it stands tolerantly weathering the torrid rains of August and the white heat of May, it makes me wonder how many such lovers the fort by the sea has seen.

A short history of the fort

The fort in Bekal is considered the largest in Kerala, spread over 40 acres, and certainly the best preserved. It was built by Sivappa Naik sometime in the 1650s and is known for its defence architecture, which includes cunningly placed holes in the walls of the fort that aim at different points and distances; the holes at top meant for aiming far into the sea while the ones below to catch the enemy as they approach closer.

Pic : Charu

The fort was later captured by Hyder Ali of Mysore in the late 18^th century and then Tipu Sultan, under whom it served most as a defence citadel, especially during his march down South to capture the Malabar province. Recent excavations at the fort have brought to light different kinds of religious structures within the fort from the time of Tipu Sultan’s reign, including a darbar hall and temples, revealing the secular nature of his regime. Once Tipu Sultan fell, the fort passed into the hands of the British, when Bekal became the headquarters of the newly created Bekal taluk in the South Canara district. The decline of the fort began when South Canara district came under Madras province, and Kasarod taluk was established as the regional headquarters in place of Bekal. Today, the Archeological Survey of India maintains it, along with the Kerala Government which is doing a lot to promote the fort, and the region itself as a major tourist attraction.

Apart from Bekal fort which is today the most popular spot in the region, there are several other attractions in Kasargod which make it one of the more interesting regions in Kerala for tourists today. Kasargod is the northern-most district of Kerala, just South of Mangalore and culturally, has the feel of both Karnataka and Kerala. Similarly, there is also a lot of remaining influence from the Muslim rule, which flourishes peacefully with the rest of the Hindu and Christian communities who are part of the region. The entire area has a charming laid-back atmosphere which is not yet exposed to the overwhelming crowds of the rest of the state.

Pic : Charu

Water, water, everywhere…

If Bekal is Kasargod’s most famous landmark, I would say Nileshwaram is its best kept secret. There is nothing spectacular about the town itself; it lies 30 km to the South of Bekal by the banks of the Nileshwaram river. The town seems to have sprouted organically along the National Highway 17, with houses and small shops lining both sides of the road. We stayed at Nalanda Resorts in Nileshwaram, with rooms facing the placid river. It was early in the morning, on a boat ride on the river that we discovered the magic of life on and by the river.

Cruising slowly down the shallow river, only the steady hum of the motor boat to break the silence of dawn, we watched the town come to life, lazily stretching its arms towards a new day. A man walks, lonely and thoughtful on the bridge, the sun just climbing high in the sky just behind him. Fishermen are at work, busy in their own worlds, while other men in similar boats scout the river for silt. Our boatman explains that the sand from the shallow river is used in construction all over the region. Tiny birds are sitting on electric wires stretched across the river, flying away noisily at the sound of our approaching boat.

Pic : Charu

Thankfully, even today, Bekal fort or even the region of Kasargod is not as crowded with tourists as the South of the state is. Add to this good infrastructure and facilities, a combination that spells holiday heaven. For those tired of the well-publicized image of swinging palms and kettuvallams of South Kerala, here is the ideal getaway solution. This is the perfect place for anyone with a secret in his / her heart. And that is you and me and everyone else.

The Virupaksha Temple dominates the Hampi skyline (such as it is) – it is one of the first things you spot as you cross the small Ganesha temples and turn the corner down into the steep path that leads to Hampi bazaar at a distance. Walk away from it towards Matanga hill, turn from anywhere on the road, or from the steps that lead towards Achutaraya temple on the other side, and you see the tower on the other end of the road, tall and proud or peeking out from somewhere between pillars. Ditto when you visit the small Ganesha temples.

Pic : Charukesi

Or when you climb up Hemakuta hill, dotted with fifty odd small temples, the perfect place to spend a peaceful evening. Alternatively, stay in any of the small guest-houses in the bazaar area and find yourself staring at the gopura during breakfast from the mandatory roof-top restaurant of the place, or stare at the glorious silhouette of the temple tower in the evening as the sky turns colors before the sun finally sets for the day. Everywhere you turn in Hampi, you catch a glimpse of the Virupaksha temple.

Pics : Charukesi

In a town where all temples and places built by the Vijayanagar dynasty are now in ruins, the Virupaksha temple stands in amazingly good condition. Our guide Lokesh “full name Lokabhirama but too long to confusing” tells us that the Muslim invaders who destroyed most of Hampi, spared this temple on seeing the symbol of a boar (along with a sword and something else that I cannot remember now) etched on the wall near the entrance of the temple. Think of it – the invaders couldn’t have been all that clever if all it needed to keep them at bay was a boar in stone – nor for that matter, were the architects and builders very clever – why aren’t there more stone boars in temples, I say?

Pic : Charukesi

Now guides will be guides and invaders will be invaders and all that, so I have no idea how true this story is, but whatever the reason, the Virupaksha temple has survived through the centuries. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, or Pampapati (the husband of Pampa, or the goddess Bhuvaneshwari), this temple was built sometime in the early 15th century, and further renovated in the sixteenth century by Krishnadevaraya.

Pics : Charukesi

While the temple is aesthetically a marvellous example of the architecture of those times, the highlight is a small dark room at the Western end, way behind the main tower. Here, in the mornings, you get to see an inverted image of the main gopura (tower) on a wall, as light falls through a small window. The pinhole camera concept, explains our guide, as he moves his hand in front of the small window, thus altering the size of the inverted shadow on the wall.

Pics : Charukesi

And just outside, on your way back to the main gate are monkeys drinking milk straight out of plastic milk covers and the temple elephant, who gobbles up the bananas you offer and imparts his blessings only when money changes hands. There is also the pied-piper of Virupaksha, the old man who blows this long horn and poses for your camera, all for a small fee. You exit the temple straight into Hampi bazaar, with its “recommended in Lonely Planet” restaurants and little hand carts and stalls selling everything from cheap plastic-ware to the ubiquitous “ethnic” Rajasthani handbags. Alternatively, you can turn left just outside the temple and reach the banks of the Tungabhadra, it a lovely walk by the riverside.

Pics : Charukesi

And finally, straight from the heart, why I love Hampi so much and dream of returning…

Pics : Charukesi

A few memories from a visit to Amritsar more than a year ago.

The temple at Amritsar must be the most peaceful place of worship I have ever been to, and certainly the cleanest. We visited twice during the day and again at night, especially to catch the reflected glow of the temple in the pool…

So, here goes – all that glitters…

At first sight, the temple is everything you imagined it to be – impressive, peaceful and bustling with life at the same time…

People were friendly and everyone we made eye contact with, smiled at us, and my bulky camera evoked a lot of interest.

He first glared at me, and then posed with a smile for my camera…

The temple at night

This is one of my all-time favorite images – it was not unusual to see people sitting by the pool, by the walls, either meditating or in silent prayer – somehow adding to the atmosphere of quiet and calm.

At night, the temple even more beautiful and the sense of peace is stronger…

And in the market outside, this, and many interesting sights…

Off with his foot!