Joyous Flows the Kapila

Before this trip, the only Kapila we knew about was the tributary to Kaveri also called as Kabini. The home stay that we booked into in Religion County (thanks to Dharmasthala and numerous other temples in the region) brought us face to face with this tributary of Nethravathi. 

We started with a quick visit to Kukke Subramanya where the rain seemed to be in a relenting mood. After darshan and breakfast, we headed out to Dharmasthala, where the rain was stronger in intent. From here on, we learned to wield the umbrellas to ward off the rain much like the locals do, and noted that the mid-August showers were not as chilling as we feared. When they stopped, warmth seemed to wrap us quickly, unless it was night time.

Returning from Dharmasthala in the same route, we alighted at Kokkada, took an auto and reached the home stay with its owner guiding us along on the mobile phone. Stepping out of the auto, we instantly knew we'd like this place - remote, silent, clean air, gurgling waters, good food and service, Kapila flowing just beside the property, persistent downpours, a sociable host and places to see if we were in the mood. It suited us perfectly that meat and alcohol were off limits here.

We wolfed down our lunch, stretched our limbs a bit and took the initial set of photographs. Then we were off for some sightseeing despite the pitter patter of rain on the leaves trying to hold us captive. Our host pointed out one of the many little waterfalls that come to life only during monsoons. Soon we reached the picturesque Shishileshwara Temple of Lord Shiva and promptly got busy feeding the mahseer fish that have found sanctuary in Kapila at this place. Once due to an altercation someone poisoned the river and there were loads and loads of dead fish, all of which were buried nearby and a memorial erected for them.  

We absorbed the quiet of this place and moved further to look at a Jain temple in ruins. It was inside private property however our host had access. It was of medium size and overgrown with weeds and bushes, with very little remaining to suggest the existence of the temple. Yet, someone devout had placed a few coins before the idols – one of stone and another of brass, placed on the ground. We were lost thinking about the intent of the original builder and wondered about human faith.

Once again we were witness to the possibility that royal patronage was largely responsible for the spread of Jainism in Karnataka and with the change of fortunes, Jains quietly became a part of the mainstream, hence very few heritage Jain structures could be retained, as in the surroundings of Shravanabelagola, or at Hombuja (Humacha) near Tirthahalli and a few other places. At some places like Badami and another village named Aralasurali near  Tirthahalli, the locals strongly believe that as Hindus gained upper hand, Jain temples morphed into Hindu shrines. At many other places across the State, they are in ruins.

We returned to the home stay at nightfall. Another family of five members came in later and except for bumping into us at meal times, they mostly remained on the fringes as they had a chockfull of things-to-do planned out. So we had our host exclusively to ourselves, when we went out to explore the locales further on the morrow. 

The next morning we headed out to another waterfall, again formed by river Kapila. If you were to pass on the bridge across the river just upstream of the falls, you’d completely miss it. That is why it is invaluable to have a local person guiding you. Our host deftly led us to the place from where we could see Kapila roaring down from a rocky bed and onto more rocks, the foam dissolving quickly as the speeding water found its way forward through glistening boulders, having carved out its passage and sculpted the rocks with the force of nature over many a moon. The absence of crowds, the threat of rains, an over laden sky, the pervading roar – all set the stage for us to witness the energetic facet of Kapila. the same reason for which KPCL once surveyed this place to explore generation of power!

At our home stay we had noted that the river flowed in quietly towards the property and as it forked into two over a bed of pebbles and boulders it made the first noises much like the gurgling of an infant learning to utter its first words. Then at Shishila it was livened by the mahseer as otherwise it flowed gracefully with a slow natural gush. Here at Parpigal, it flowed forcefully forward.

Soon our host motioned us to move further downstream over slippery rocks and cute little puddles. We mutely complied as nature ruled majestically all around us. At this second point we were much closer to the stream as it fell down another gorge and we could see many rocks worn smooth along its path. We were greedily drinking all this in when the inevitable happened. The camera batteries died and the replacement we had picked up at Arasinamakki village was not good enough, so we had to go without any captures for the next 2 hours. To lighten our moods our host related to us about kayaking enthusiasts who almost regularly visit him ‘in season’, which was news to us.

We touched Kokkada and went to Southadka where Lord Ganesha reigns in open splendor. Except for a raised platform there is no other structure to call it a temple hence the deity sits exposed to the elements. A low wall surrounds the designated temple area and visitors are greeted by two long rows of brass & gunmetal bells tied by the believers who came seeking favours from the Lord.  The mood was electric as the congregation stood and watched the morning aarti. The fact that commerce and religion go together and blessings are traded could also be witnessed. Our host told us that some 30 years ago this place was deep inside farm lands that were supposedly used to grow cucumbers. Now we could see new shops and slow development to suggest that it will blossom into a populous place in the coming years.

We headed back to Kokkada for our fix of Duracell and then we were good for the next bit of sightseeing, this time to a long suspension bridge across Gundya river on the other side of the National Highway about 4km away. We parked the car beside the Highway and walked up to the bridge. The river flowed quite peacefully and we could find bird life here. Different types of bulbuls dotted the trees on both banks. We crossed the bridge and went around another Ganesha temple that was locked up after morning puja. This was set amidst lush fields in Adenja village, with the Bhoota deities in a separate enclosure at the rear. As we went around, a long snake rushed away into the fields. The place was deserted yet full of life and there was harmony everywhere. 

We returned to the home stay for lunch and then it was time to go in search of insects and birds, camera in hand. For the first time we could photograph a cicada and later a yellow bulbul. We could hear drongo calls and the omnipresent mynah. There were many more that livened up the tree branches with their short and sudden moves. Though we had planned another trek the rains washed it down so we just paid a visit to the workshop opposite our host’s residence, where areca leaf products like trays and plates were being pressed into shape by a bevy of girls. We were also shown a Mahavira statue set in a narrow cave which our bodies refused to fit into. So we just stayed around the cottage and soaked in the rains (not literally). It was marvelous to see many insects go about their lives in an uninterrupted fashion.

We boarded the bus for our return journey at Kokkada the next morning. Though our host enticed us with the suggestion that we could get into the water for a while, we flatly refused. Waiting for the bus at Kokkada, I asked him about another famed temple in the neighborhood. He did not seem to know. Back home my research told me about the Vaidyanatheshwara Temple at Kokkada – an excuse for my return to religion and the richness of nature.