Country Roads

As I drove through the country-side in South Canara (where I am from originally), I looked on appreciatively at the scenery around me - where there was no road, there were palm trees. Bunches of coconuts hang on these trees - with the sweetest of water and even sweeter soft white flesh that almost melts in the mouth waiting to be consumed. The coconut itself finds its way into innumerable South Canara dishes.

Tiny houses with sloped tiled roofs dot the expanse of palm trees. Many of these houses are on the edges of patches of paddy fields. These paddy fields are a visual treat - beautifully green (especially now, just after the monsoons) and extend across the country-side with little bunds separating different farmers' fields.

Occasionally, we drive past fields and suddenly we are on a bridge, crossing a river that is sure to be one of the myriad tributaries that eventually flow into the Kaveri, Krishna or Tungabhadra.

Sahasthana - beautiful as the above was to see all along the way, I was spell-bound when we reached a place called Sahasthana. Here, there is a large river that extends for almost half a kilometer in width. As we crossed the bridge, the early morning sun shimmered on the surface of the river, giving it an ethereal quality. There were a few islands in the middle of the river. Several boatmen (these are tiny boats with a couple of men rowing with wooden oars) dotted the river here and there, spreading their nets out from their boats. I could not get enough of the untouched beauty of the place. Once again I regretted not being good with my camera to capture the scene.

I rolled down the windows and took a deep breath of that coastal air that I so vividly associate with all my trips to Mangalore. Sahasthana is a fantastic testament to the untouched beauty of rural India. I sincerely hope it will stay that way for a long, long time.