Sumptuous Meal, Delicious Meal

I have heard about this place–Sanjeevanam–but only recently I had an opportunity to taste its famous, nutrition-rich Kerala food. The lunch menu comprises a speciality-Rajakeeyam. It’s a fully fledged meal, which is sumptuous as well as delicious. It’s not spicy, yet tasty.

To the uninitiated, each dining table has a card that tells you how to enjoy the meal in a proper manner. First, you start with ripe banana sprinkled with grated coconut. The card shows a lot of banana slices, but they serve you just two; maybe, two pieces are sufficient to whet your appetite. Next, you taste five types of soups and juices served in small glass tumblers. You can gulp them down in one shot.

Are you feeling hungry? Now, they serve you an array of uncooked vegetables and wait until you finish them off. Next come semi-cooked veggies. I swear the plantain pith hasn’t tasted this better anywhere. Yummy.

Before you start the main courses, they serve you four types of fully cooked dishes. First course is of course, paruppu sadam aka dal chawal. The rice they serve is bran rice, the variety which is red in colour and preserves all the nutrients rice can offer you. The other courses are the usual ones that occupy a South Indian meal: sambar, mor kuzhambu, rasam, and buttermilk; only they taste better here.

You still have an empty place in your stomach? Then how about a pint of ambrosia, I mean, payasam? Wow! Do you feel satiated now? Wait, they will serve you honey to help you digest all you have gorged. Honey is served in the same fashion thulasi theertham is offerd in Perumal koil—in your plams. Lick it to your heart’s content.

Well, during the course of your meal, you will notice that one important thing is missing: water. They won’t serve you water until you finish off your meal (or until you beg them to pour some). It is the famous chukku vallam, medicated water, served in brass tumbler. Now go wash your hands and chew the thamboolam. This sweet paan will not put make you intoxicated.

The meal costs you Rs.120+10% service charge+VAT, but it’s worth every paise. Sanjeevanam, abutting Valluvar Kottam High Road, will not let you down if you are searching for a place to have a good lunch. Go, try it. Burp.

When 6th Gear Felt Like Granny Gear

I hadn’t ridden my bike awhile before this evening. I excused myself from commuting to office on my bike on the basis that the Sun has started hotting up. But I knew that I was faking and I badly wanted a ride.

So, yesterday (Saturday), I gave the bike a hearty wash and set it up for a long ride today (Sunday). Things didn’t happen as I had wished, and I had to wait till evening to go for a quick spin.

I only rode for 10 km, but boy did I enjoy it? Initially the ride was nothing spectacular, but once I clambered over the MIT flyover, I started cranking effortlessly on the 6th gear (the highest I have on my bike) and felt as if I was riding on the granny gear (the lowest). The ride was so wonderful that in an effort to sustain momentum I dodged a strip of tarmac that was strewn with shattered glass pieces with the precision of a surgeon, without slowing down.

In the end I thought I had put to good use all the carbohydrates I had stocked.

Second Installment of the “ECR Ride”

I don’t want to bore you again by ranting on my ride on the ECR. But, I’ve got a few pictures of the scenic ECR this time. So, here is a snippet of the second installment:

Stats are pretty same as the previous ride: 55kms at an average speed of 16.5km. This time I went up to the Kelambakkam-Kovalam junction beyond Muthukkadu. The January morning was pleasant, and when I rode on the ECR, I felt I could go up to Pondicherry at one go. Wonderful tarmac, cool breeze, and azure sea for company–what else one would want more?

Pictures:

A 55km Cycle Trip on the ECR

Prologue
Last week, I had been mulling over going for a spin on the ECR (East Cost Road: the famous Chennai-Pondicherry scenic highway). Though I have been commuting to office on a cycle, a decent ride (read 50+km) was long due.  So, I wanted to make a trip on the ECR to market it as a possible weekend destination for fellow cyclists (as if no Chennaiite knows about it ).

Missus wasn’t happy, though. Her reasons were:

1. An unenviable record of heavy casualties on the ECR due to rash driving and narrow roads.
2. There had been instances (rumors?) of robbery on the isolated stretches of ECR.
3. I had had my right inguinal hernia operated two years ago, and she didn’t want me to strain.

I had to resort to all sorts of tricks to convince her. She finally accepted my proposal with a condition that I would have to complete the trip in two hours. I started wondering if I would be able to do a 25kmph ride.

ECR, here I come, come what may
I start at 6:45 (late by any standard) from my home at Chitlapakkam near Tambaram. Shove a couple of bananas, a packet of biscuit, and a bottle of water into the backpack. I don’t have a helmet, so put on a cap. (I am sure that with the amount of sea breeze lashing, I will not sweat much. Also, my hair will not be dry as an arid land after the ride.) Hand gloves have always proved their worth, so I put them on.

Take the Tambaram-Velachery road. Traffic is sparse and the cool morning breeze is soothing. Road is good and I start eating up kilometers. Reach Medawakkam (7 km) and turn right toward Sholinganallur. When I am about to touch the Sholinganallur junction, I feel this pain on the right knee. I have had this dull pain during the previous 50km ride. Now, I start to panic. I want to ride on the ECR, and I will ride come what may. It is just a niggling pain, so I will snub it. Excruciating it may not be, nevertheless it starts hampering my speed. When I reach the ECR (14 km), happiness obliterates pain, and I start enjoying the ride. Also, I find that if I try the stand-up-and-pedal trick, the pain vanishes.

Scenic ECR
ECR has always been my favorite weekend destination, but I have never ridden a cycle on it. It twists along the seashore. Scenic, beautiful, enchanting, and if all these adjectives describe something, then it must be dangerous, too; right? The tarmac is inviting, but the road is narrow and doesn’t have a divider (median). Shoulders are provided, though. So, I compete with the local people who ride their roadsters and MTBs. A tailwind helps ease the pain. Sneak through the toll plaza (two wheelers are spared, anyway), and go past a few rustic and not-so-rustic villages. On the way, I see quite a few (Ok, about eight) cyclists in full cycling attire riding in the opposite direction (toward Chennai city); I notice two Bianchis (of which one is a single speed). I wave and show thumbs-up as I ogle at the bikes.

Enter Muttukkadu that is famous for its little backwaters and the boathouse. Time is 8, and the missus calls me as per the contract. Odo says I have covered just 22 km, and I want to make it at least 25; but, she insists I take enough rest and get back. Swallow some biscuits and the bananas, gulp down some water, and start the return journey. Swallow some more biscuits near the toll plaza.

OMR-Thorappakam-Pallavaram stretch
Now, the tailwind becomes a stiff headwind and rubs salt into the wound. The pain restricts my speed; the wind limits my movement. I crawl all the way up to the Sholinganallur junction. I do not want to take the same Sholinganallur-Medawakkam route again, so I turn right on the Old Mahabalipuram Road (OMR), which is also called the IT Express Way. The road has three lanes (I think) on either side of the median and is very good. The headwind still haunts, but I manage to reach the Thorappakkam junction. The signboard says Pallavaram: 10 km. The Thorappakkam-Pallavaram is one hell of a stretch; hell because numerous IT parks are being set up along this way, and even on Sundays, tippers and trailers ply at monstrous speeds. The tarmac is good, though. To avoid the pain, I stand and deliver (err…pedal). Reach the end of the stretch, turn left, ride along the railway tracks and cross them, reach the GST road, go past the MIT flyover, and return home.

Stats
Time spent on the saddle: 3 hours and 16 minutes. Distance covered: 54.92 km. Average speed: ~17kmph. Top speed: 30kmph. I console myself that I would have reached early if not for the pain. Only another ride can tell.

Epilogue

It was a nice trip. If you have a good bike (road bike or MTB with thinner tyres), you can cruise through the ECR all day. My bike (Hercules Ryders ACT 103) with its primitive Shimano SIS 6-speed gears held on well till the end.

Rain, Rain, Go Away…

I confess that I made a mistake in my last post. I accidentally wrote that the North-East monsoon had somehow eased out. Wrong. Well, blame it on my clairvoyance; the lack of it, that is. It’s been almost a week since it started raining, pouring, down pouring, and what not. It’s been raining cats and dogs, and lions and elephants these days. Chitlapakkam, where I live, is inundated like any other square inch of Chennai. As it always happens to me always, Street #2, where I live, is the most suffering. Our street (an alley, really) is submerged in knee-deep water, resembling a reservoir for this locality. Street #1 and 3 have concrete roads and are safe.

So, let me pray. Could you please join me?

Rain, rain, go away. Come again next year.

A Visit to Kailasam (Kanchi Kailasam, that is)

Preface

With the North-East monsoon saying goodbye to Chennai, winter, the mildest summer season in this part of the world, has set in early. The travel bug in me started pricking my nerves so hard that I began to plan for a long ride to feed the bug. Luckily, there was an excuse to make a decently long trip to Kanchipuram. There was a marriage function to attend, and what better way to travel from home to the marriage hall than on a two-wheeler.

As we (my wife and I) had to start early in the morning, we decided it would not be a clever thing to take the daughter with us. So, we cajoled and promised her that if she opted to stay at her grandma’s, the RoP (return on patience) would be worth its weight in dolls and chocolates. She readily accepted our offer, and we started at 6:30 in the morning. I put on my helmet and my wife her balaclava (I insisted she also wear a helmet, but like a good wife she didn’t heed my advice).

We decided to take a rustic route, so the Bangalore highway (part of the golden quadrilateral) lost the battle to the Thambaram-Padappai-Wallajahbad-Kanchi route. It would be a 60km ride, but we decided we would ride at a pedestrian 40kmph so that we could enjoy the ride.

Morning traffic was sparse; the land was shrouded in mist up to the point where it met the horizon; and there was a nip in the air. Poetic, isn’t it. Riding a motorbike with protective gear on a winter morning is like enjoying an early morning slumber under a cozy quilt with the fan (or A/C) whirring at full speed. The road was decent and it cut the mostly barren and semi-arid lands. We could see drastic changes in the topography of the place since the time when we had gone through the same road last year. (The area is being industrialized at a hectic pace. It may be a good thing, for there is no agriculture activity happening anyway.) There were a few good lush green stretches, though.

Reached Kanchi in an hour and a half, attended the marriage, filled up our respective tummies, and went straight to the Kailasanathar temple.

Kailasanathar

God bless the Pallavas. God bless Rajasimhan a.k.a. Narasimhavarman II. The Pallavas made the Thamizhs proud with their everlasting masterpieces on stone. If Simhavishnu, Mahendravarman I, and Narasimhavarman I are credited for the awe-inspiring sculptures of Kadal Mallai (Maamallapuram), then Rajasimhan must be eulogized for the great Kailasanathar temple at Kanchi. (If I am correct, he is also attributed to the Shore Temple at Maamallapuram.)

The Kailasanathar temple or Rajasimheswaram is a beauty to behold. This was my second trip. I had visited this wonderful temple a year ago, but had to rush up, as it was getting too dark to appreciate the sculptures. That’s when I had decided I should visit this temple again in daytime. This time, we were there at 09:30 in the morning and spent a good hour and a half.

Rajasimheswaram is not a typical Dravidian-style temple you see everywhere in Thamizh Nadu. It predates most of the big and famous temples. Built in the 7^th century, it resembles the Shore Temple; only it is four to five times bigger (my guesstimate!). A vast open space with beautifully manicured lawns welcomes you as you enter the temple premises. The bull (Nandhi) is huge and it stands in the open as if to tell you that it has withstood all the five elements of nature. There are quite a few rathas (actually they are small shrines one witnesses within the corridor of a typical temple) that line up the outer corridor.

Enter the temple and you are awestruck by the grace and poise of the vimanam. As with those times, the outer tower (gopuram) is smaller than the inner tower (vimanam) over the sanctum sanctorum. Legend has it that the great Rajaraja Chozhan was inspired by this temple and went on to build the Brihadheeswara temple (Periya Koil) at Thanjavur.

Kailasanathar, in the form of the lingam, is humongous and gorgeous. The lingam is made of granite and is hexdecagon-shaped (16 sides). If you want to circumambulate the sanctum sanctorum, you will have to crawl through a big hole on one side that symbolizes death, walk through the narrow corridor, and crawl back to the sanctum through another L-shaped hole that symbolizes rebirth.

The inner corridor and the outer walls of the sanctum sanctorum cast their magic spell on you as you circumambulate after praying to the presiding deity. Every nook and corner is replete with wonderful sculptures. Hail thee Rajasimha; hail thee architects who sculpted the masterpieces. Somaskandhamoorthy, Narasimhar, Simhavahini… all are exquisitely sculpted. Even an atheist would be moved by their sheer grace. A few Puranic sculptures are also found: Arjunan locking horn with Shiva over a wild boar; Lingodhbhavar standing majestically, wielding all sorts of godly weapons; Shiva subjugating Ravana who thinks he can move Mt. Kailash.

We left the place carrying back the memories of the times.

All photos are listed here.

Travel tips:

• From Thambaram, Kailasanathar temple is 65km; from Chennai, it will be 80 or 85km if you take the Thambaram route.
• You can take a break at Padappai or Wallajabad. Padappai doesn’t have decent hotels (my view only), but Wallajabad has.
• On entering Kanchi, go past the Varadharaja Perumal koil (say a quick hello or if possible include it in your travel itinerary) in Little Kanchi. When you have traveled a km or two into the town, turn left at the junction where you can see Adyar Ananda Bhavan and Saravana Bhavan, and go straight. The road turns right at the Kachabeswarar temple and leads to the Ekambareswarar temple (you can very well see the towering tower of Ekambareswarar). Go straight instead of turning right at the Kachabeswarar temple. Within 500 meters, the town sort of vanishes and the rustic charm of a village welcomes. Go another 500 meters to reach the Kailasanathar temple.
• Did I mention that the outer corridor of the Kailasanathar temple has beautiful lawns? There are a few trees that provide shade. You can marvel at the side view of the magnificent Gopuram from here.
• Try the death-rebirth holes. You may think twice before going through the holes, as they are really narrow; but you will feel rejuvenated when you come out.

Thirupporoor – The War Town

Thirupporoor, in Thamizh (Tamil) and Samarapuri in Sanskrit, is a little town (or village if you wish) near Maamallapuram (Mahabalipuram). It is famous for–no, not the IT Expressway–the Murugan temple. On a Sunday afternoon, we were breaking our heads (two big and one little) on how to spend the rest of the weekend. Voila, I thought we had never visited this place, though it was on our list of must-see places around Chennai. Before my wife could veto my decision, my daughter accepted it. Soon we swung our respective legs over the Discover (motorbike) and were on the Thambaram-Velachery main road.

Thirupporoor is at the end of the IT Expressway (Old Maamallapuram Road). Actually there are three routes that one can take from Thambaram to Thirupporoor:

• Take the GST road up to Vandaloor, turn left on the Vandaloor-Kelambakkam main road, go up to Kelambakkam, and take the IT Expressway.
• Take the Thambaram-Velachery main road, turn right on the Maambakkam main road (the first junction before the Medavakkam main junction), join the Vandaloor-Kelambakkam main road at Maambakkam, reach Kelambakkam, and take the IT Expressway.
• Take the Thambaram-Velachery main road, turn right at the Medavakkam main junction, go up to Chozhanganalloor, turn right on the IT Expressway.

We took the third route; Thirupporoor is at a good 35km from home. The quality of the tarmac is OK up to Chozhanganallor, and it gradually improves as you ride through the IT Expressway. After Kelambakkam the IT Expressway ends (I think) and a village road starts, but the village road is equally good. You can hear the sea roaring a few km away. That day, the sky was overcast and the weather was nice; we thought it would rain. (Rain it did when we were circumambulating the temple corridor.)

Like Thirukkachur, Thirupporoor has an old-world charm. Till Kelambakkam, you feel that you are the uber-modern 21st century human being who fiddles with all that jazzy gadgets. Enter Thirupporoor and you move back a century or two. I think the Samarapuri of the bygone era mentioned in the Kandhasashti Kavasam would have resembled the present-day Thirupporoor except for a few concrete structures that fill the town’s skyline.

Though the temple is fairly big, I was a bit disappointed, as I expected it to be ancient (belonging to the Chozha or Pandiya period). It’s old, though. As with other temples, the temple pond welcomes you as you enter the temple. The pond is (ahem) a bit dirty with the non-biodegradable plastic bottles thrown into it. The place that houses the altar (balipeetam) and flagstaff (dwajasthambam) is circular (I haven’t seen one like this).

We prayed to Kandhaswamy, the presiding deity, and started circumambulating the inner corridor. It started raining as we entered one of the smaller shrines that dot the corridor, and the rain continued for about 20 minutes. On our way back home, we spotted a temple on a hillock. We found out that it is the Kailasanathar temple (ancient) and is under the aegis of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). There are steps to reach the top, but the temple is being renovated, so reach the summit to have a panoramic view of the ECR and the town. I forgot to take my digicam to take a few snaps of this nice place.

If you yearn for a nice ride and salubrious air, may I suggest you this place? Go enjoy it with your family.

P.S. If you are one who doesn’t want to ride a bike, take an MTC bus or a muffasil bus from Thambaram.

Festival of Light Beckons

The festival of light Dheepavali (or Diwali) is just two days away, but the sub-prime crisis, global financial meltdown, and all such clichéd buzzwords have dampened the festive mood a bit. People working in the IT and Finance sectors are chewing their finger nails in anxiety; a few major banks have temporarily stopped providing loans; a power crisis is crippling the entire Tamil Nadu. Now, is there anything to cheer about?

The only antidote I can prescribe is optimism. Dheepavali (light) beckons at the end of the tunnel. It will bring with it hope, promise, confidence, faith, and all such good things.

I wish all a very happy and safe Dheepavali.

Once in a Black Moon

Last Sunday (17 Aug), I was awake till 3 in the morning for some important work. At midnight, I realized that a partial lunar eclipse would occur at around 1. So I went out of my flat to have a glimpse of the rare celestial phenomenon. No one was around, but the street lights were illuminating the locality brilliantly. The air was still, and the ether was filled with clouds. I sighed, “I would not be able to see the eclipse.” Came back to my room and gazed at the computer monitor. At 1:30, I went out again. A drizzle had already started, and it gained momentum every passing minute. “OK, man, pack up,” I told myself. Completed the assignment, shut down the system (real quick this Ubuntu thing is, by the way), made the bed, and settled.

“Wait, why can’t try again,” my conscience persisted. At 2:30, I went out again. The sky remained shrouded, but from a corner of our flat I was able to see a near-total eclipse. The moon within the umbra was morbidly fascinating. A cloud hiding the moon is an everyday phenomenon, but the Earth shadowing the moon? Wow! I have seen total solar eclipses and lunar eclipses. But this was special. Nobody was around, it was well past midnight, and it was almost raining. Surrealistic, isn’t it? I tried capturing it with my Canon 7.1 mp digicam, and the shot was OK. (Please click the image to view its full size. The moon looks like a peanut up in the pitch black night sky )

Total Lunar Eclipse

One week on the saddle

It’s been a week since I started using the nonpolluting vehicle for commuting. The first day was indeed special; I was excited like a kid on a festival day. Got up early, put on the nicest clothes, wiped the nonexistent dust off the bike, and started. The sky was overcast, but the humidity was unbearable. I thought I was going to sweat like a dog (I sweat a lot, normally). Luckily, the weather turned good and a gentle breeze blew my predicament away.

When I ride my motorbike, I always lookout for errant pedestrians and cyclists. Now, the table had turned. I was careful to not make the same mistakes; I rode on the left end of the road, yielding to fast-moving vehicles. Slopes and elevations which hardly existed while I rode a motorbike now appeared like monsters on the horizon. But I showed them who the boss was. The dependable Shimano gears gave me the confidence I needed, and I conquered elevation after elevation with aplomb. It would seem silly, but for a guy who had taken to cycling again after 15 years, it was like the first day on the saddle. MEPZ SEZ (Madras Export Processing Zone), Chennai, a hilly area of sorts and where my office is situated, posed the biggest threat. Pedaling up hill was a daunting task; journey down hill was easy (should I tell that ). In the evening, I regained confidence. I rode with elan. This time I chose the longest route possible and enjoyed every bit of the journey. Crossed the MIT (Madras Institute of Technology) flyover in a jiffy. Wow! I kissed my bike passionately. The remaining days of the week were happy days, too. So far, I have clocked 60+ kilometers. It’s a big deal for I always depend on my motorbike even for the smallest distances. Now, I have come out of the rut. I didn’t touch my Discover during the week (though it will remain a companion for weekend rides with my wife and kid). Overall, a wonderful experience. Thanks to all; I have turned a new leaf in life.

About the bike: It is easy to operate. Gears shift like a charm; V-brakes do their best. There are a few niggles, though. While riding down hill (without pedaling) as well as riding in the lower gears 1, 2 and higher gears 5, 6, a mild noise emanates from the front wheel as if the brakes scratch the tyre. This sound stops when I reach the planes. Also, the front tyre has been fitted (or factory fitted) wrongly. The tread pattern is in the reverse direction. If time permits, I will take my bike to the bike station to sort out these issues.