Along the Konkan Coast!

I was about to leave for Mumbai on my maiden flight from Delhi. From there, I had plans to proceed further to Mangalore, this time in train, on the Konkan Railway. The mind was loaded with all possible options of breaking my journey on my return at Kudal and move to Sindhudurg and Vijaydurg. These marine forts that dot the Konkan coastline are among the many forts the Marathas made to strengthen the grip over the sea. I had collected a lot of information about the ways in which I can approach the Sindhudurg – the mighty fort that Shivaji designed and supervised himself, during the daunting construction. I developed a special interest in marine forts when I visited Murud Zanzira near Alibaug.

Well! A marine fort has some special design features that traditional land or hill forts lack. Compared to its land counterparts, they are smaller in size. This is quite obvious as these forts are usually placed on islands amidst the sea, or at narrow cliffs over looking the sea. This practice drastically reduces the cost of putting more than one line of fortification. Most of the marine forts have a single line of fortification. But, the fewer number of fortifications is compensated with a much tougher construction. At Murud hard black stone blocks have used to take on the moisture laden heavy winds 24 hours a day, and 365 days a year. Still the guzzling sea waves had eroded the bottom part, and lay to waste a large number of rusted iron cannons. The strength can also be enhanced with more number of bastions as done at Murud. Anyway let’s keep apart this aspect for now.

We reached Mumbai Airport and headed for Hotel Host Inn in Andheri. But, our expectations were on the higher side from such a hotel in a metropolis like Mumbai and disappointment was unavoidable. The next morning, we left for Lokmanya Tilak Terminus by taxi to catch Jan Shatabdi Express to Madgaon. The train took the fast newly laid tracks of Konkan Railways.

Konkan Railways is a patch of railway track that connects Roha and Mangalore, with 1853 bridges and 88 Tunnels, and covering some of the most beautiful virgin interiors of Maharashtra, Goa, and Karnataka. Our train passed through Panvel, Chiplun, Ratnagiri, Sawantwadi, Thivim, and many more small stations before reaching Madgaon. I got down at Ratnagiri and started thinking, whether it would be possible to have a look at Jaigad Fort on my return. Just as we were about to touch Madgaon, I witnessed some of the most exotic backwaters of the Western Ghats. Our trains passed through many bridges where there was sea on one side and backwaters on the other. The Portuguese influence can be seen everywhere; right from churches to the silent graveyards with the mighty “CROSS” everywhere. Many Ships that have not been painted for years together, creating a rusty look were idly anchored to the base. The sailors and fishermen looked contend with whatever they have been blessed with. They are quite happy with their ships, fishing nets, Feni, and sea.

We got down at Madgaon and boarded “Konkan Kanya - Passenger” for Madgaon. There was nothing worth mentioning except a brief chat with a goan lady, going to Kerala. She lives in Goa where her husband is into lending bikes to tourists. She introduced me to a very strange sociological aspect of Goa. She has two growing sons, but she is not very sure what future has in store for them.

Goa is a very popular destination for local as well as international tourists, and most of the population here earns its bread from this overgrowing industry only. But, with the exponential population growth and steady inflow of outsiders from neighboring states, the burden on Tourism Industry has actually surpassed the capacity it can cater to. I also enquired about the performance of Mr. Manohar Parrikar. Apart from these talks, I spend some time at the door, standing and gazing at the terrains outside.

At last we reached Kanakanadi, immediately took an auto rickshaw and headed for Hotel * Taj * Manjarun – another first in my life. Suresh garu lost his cell phone in the auto rickshaw and guess what – that fellow came back to the hotel to return it back after 25 minutes. No way! Never can we expect the same honesty anywhere in North India.

The days at Mangalore were very monotonous and lacked any charm. My usual day started with a Rs. 50/- cup of tea at Manjarun, Tiffin at the food stall opposite Taj Manjarun with Nagulu, Suresh, Loka, and Murthy garu, visit to some sub-station, lazily noting down the equipment details just to show that I am involved, south Indian lunch at any local restaurant, come back as the sun sets, and enjoy Prawn Biryani and pomfret Fry at SPICE.

But, this trip gave me an opportunity to see some of the most remote and scarcely populated regions of South India. Udupi, Puttur, Bantawal, Hebri, Byndoor, Baikampadi, Kulashekara, Kavoor, Kunjabettu, Mookambika Temple, and the more known Manipal are just some of the places I went to. Other names were ridiculously difficult to remember, so I decided not to put unnecessary strain on my limited stock of Hippocampus.

My five stay at Mangalore also left some non-straining memories in my mind. I found the Mangalorean people Honest at core and law abiding by nature. They go by the rules; the roads, streets, markets, and bridges are striking clean and well maintained, with no “Hakeem Usmani” and “Mithunda movie” posters. One more thing is inseparable from the port city of Mangalore and that is intense pinching smell of fish everywhere. But, that was not a cause of concern for a fish loving Bengali like me.

Every time you pass over a bridge in and around Mangalore, you can spot the National Emblem at both ends. Duly painted in silver, and upright. This reminds you of how much importance these national symbols have in imbibing nationalism among this wide and diverse country. What about writing your name with welded joints right on the top of the main gate, rather than putting up a formal nameplate? Not quite interesting - but the Mangaloreans prefer this style.

This time I decided to name some special persons I met during my stay at Mangalore. Numero Uno – Khalid, Profession – Taxi Driver, Expertise – knows every turn and roundel of the city, apart from driving, Other Credentials – Never ending enthusiasm for life. Next person is from a small village named Hebri; a small restaurant owner, can spell out the whole menu in a fraction of a minute, keeps an English daily – “The Hindu” just in case if any outside city aliens happen to come his way, and most importantly super speed service with smiling face.

Last but not the least, a fresh engineering graduate at Puttur sub-divisional office, Madhu Ram, is full of energy, can make people like Loka to stare her for a minute, and very helpful.

I was on my way back to Mumbai, from where I had a connecting train to Delhi. Looked for a reserved seat in all trains that connect Mangalore and Mumbai, but destiny had something more challenging in store. Also the idea of breaking at Kudal and moving to Sindhudurg was also in the back of my mind. But, neither time nor the packed trains compelled me to re-plan the whole thing.

Boarded a summer special train from Mangalore in General Bogie. The journey, well the less I describe the better it is. Traveling in general bogie in hot humid conditions for about 18 hours is something that most of us would love to hate. But I enjoyed it a different way. I kept humming a classical song from a gulzar movie, and controlled the food and fluid intake cautiously as the very thought of going to an Indian General Class bogie toilet can gave me a shiver.

On 3rd June I survived on a packet of “Good day” Biscuit and a horrible vegetable biryani. The humming was continuous, with different variations and pitch. I had just discovered the power of Indian Classical Music, the magic of ragas. Why a specific raga is practiced in a specific period of the day became evident. Feeling curious about the song that kept me going for 18 long hours, in a general bogie, on a terribly hot and humid day; that was “mitwa bole jhute bain……” from Parichay, composed by the legendary Pancham da.

I reached Dadar in the early hours, took a ticket to Mumbai Central, from where I had my connecting train at 17:40 hrs. I was in Mumbai Central Railway station by 05:30 hrs. Now, came the big question, how to kill these 12 hours at Mumbai Central Station, with my dislike for Railway Stations very much intact.

Searched for the station waiting room and found the same on the first floor. Took a brief nap of around one and a half hour on a bench. But, very soon it became impossible for me to stay there anymore with more crowds coming in as the time passed by. Left the waiting room, had my breakfast – Omelet and bread, and decided to move to Vasai.

Bassein or Vasai as it is known today is a few minutes drive from Virar. Took a local train (Fast) from Mumbai Central to Virar, and from there without any adventure took an Auto rickshaw for Vasai. Vasai fort was build by Bahadur Shah of Gujarat to protect his empire from any possible foreign naval attack and other military threats from the south. This fort stood out as watchtower guarding the Arabian Sea, for centuries, and held a strategic position along the coastline.

Portuguese knew this and captured this important fort in 1534. The Bassein region ruled by Portuguese is not just Bassein but included areas far away as Bombay, Thane, Kalyan, and Chaul. In the late second half of 16th century they remodeled the fort with 10 bastions encompassing all-important civil and military settlements of Bassein. The Marathas led by Chimaji Appa finally took the control of Bassien in 1739. The Portuguese lost 8 cities, 4 chief ports, 20 fortress, 2 fortified hills, and 340 villages. In the later years Bassein changed hands between the Marathas and the British. But, Bassein has lost its importance and stature. In the ensuing years, Bassein was in sheer neglect after a constructive, peaceful, Portuguese rule; English Bombay became the hub of all marine trading and commercial activities.

What remains today at Bassein are a few ruined monuments from the past, mostly Portuguese, local fisherman family encroachments with their daaru ki bhattis, a few love birds looking for a hideout, and an abject silence. “Saab ek aur killa hai pass me,” informed Anand ji, my auto rickshaw Wallah. Immediately I enquired, how far from this place? Arnala was about a half hour drive from Vasai. Indulged in some bargaining which can I never do successfully and headed for Arnala.

Ilha das vocas, this is how Arnala was known in the Portuguese days. Arnala like Vasai was a strategic watchtower for the invaders making their way towards the Indian coast. The fort that stands today is surrounded by water on all sides. When I reached Arnala port, it was a high tide time. The sea was violent and no sailor dared to take out his boat. So, my possibilities of reaching Arnala Fort took a real jolt. Moved around the coastline and took some photographs.

What drew the attention was a lone bastion lying in the middle of the sea, quite far off from the main fort. The fortifications, it seemed were washed off by the erosive forces of nature with time. After a few final lookouts, I decided to wrap up and moved towards Virar. Reached Virar, and took a ticket for Mumbai Central. Waited at the railway station as my train had a scheduled departure at 17:40 hrs. I was getting more and more impatient with every passing second. The humid coastal winds were making the life more difficult for a person like me who grew up in arid place like Gwalior.

And came the final blow! The Rajdhani Express for New Delhi is delayed by 2 hours, came the announcement. No options; consoled my heart with something that Niraj often told me during my stay at Farakka, “Manusya naahi hot balwaan, Samay hot balwaan.”

Waited for my time and train to come with some regular doses of desperately needed nicotine. Finally, the lazy engine, dragging the bogies made its way to the platform. Searched for my seat, and it took a few hours for all my sweat to dry out. The air-conditioned coach was like heaven; soon came the dinner. Enjoyed it to the last bite and had a sound and refreshing sleep. Next day by noon, I reached Delhi, with all my memories.

The mind-blowing Konkan Experience, the boring days at a great city Mangalore – the only spicy thing being the food, the nightmarish 18-hour journey in General Class bogie, the over crowded waiting room at Mumbai Central, the pleasure of discovering a new fort – that to a Portuguese fort, something I had never done before, and the disappointment of missing out the opportunity of exploring the treasures of Sindhudurg, Vijaydurg, Jaigad and Arnala Fort, remained some of the highlights of this tour.