Reminiscing at the crossroads

As the bus veered away from the main road and plunged into a bumpy ride through darkness, there was mild commotion. Everything settled quickly as it became known that Christians from several districts had congregated to celebrate St. Mary’s Feast at Harihar and the approach to the Bus Stand was blocked. So we had to be patient while the bus took a roundabout route.

Along the journey from Bangalore, familiar sights had given way to development. Yet, as though not to disorient the native totally, certain things were unchanged – the Bus Stations at Hiriyur & Chitradurga for instance. As we drew nearer, it was evident that Davanagere had changed a bit, notably it had expanded. The morphing of a quiet village by the national highway into an obliging suburb of an expanding city was seen at Doddabati. The stage was set to come face to face with change at Harihar.

The first familiar perception was olfactory – the stink from the pulp mill of Harihar Polyfibres, a Birla concern across river Tungabhadra. Together with Mysore Kirloskar, this company had scripted the fortunes of this agrarian trading center, transforming it into an agro-industrial hub of significance in the region. With the latter almost disappearing from the scene, and with NH4 offering a huge bypass to the twin towns of Davanagere & Harihar for long distance travelers, Harihar has lost some of its sheen but not everything. The boom in real estate seen at one point of time seems to have subsided now, yet a casual walk around town will reveal several new buildings and old structures giving way to new.

There is however something which cannot be taken away in a long time! Harihar remains the central point of the state as far as road transport is concerned. After Bangalore & Dharmasthala it is perhaps the third place in Karnataka from where you can find a direct bus to any significant destination. One look at a map will convince you about this. For the road traveler it is an exciting prospect just to think about it; irrespective of any other unique positive/s no other location in the state can boast of this.

Harihar is also the threshold for what is traditionally considered as South Karnataka. In fact, some say Tungabhadra is the real divider between the two halves, separating the ragi country from the jowar lands. That is why, amidst the loud clanging of the local tongue, you will easily find the softer Mysorean dialect in the marketplace. Speaking of it, urban eyes would really find it soothing to go around the weekly shandy, feasting one’s eyes on heaps & heaps of fresh, green vegetables. And a host of other things, including ‘Bangalore potatoes’!

One of the most affirmative statements to this effect comes from the Harihareshwara Temple, a landmark that gave the town its name. Dating from the period of Hoysala king Veeranarasimha II and built in 1224AD on the right bank of Tungabhadra by his general named Polalva, it remains the pride of the town. The stellar plan of construction typical of many Hoysala temples, the familiar figures adorning the walls & roofs and the open mantapa before the sanctum sporting 56 lathe-turned and polished pillars bear the unmistakable stamp of this style. The idol, which is over 1.2m in height, reminds one of similar idols of Nambi Narayana & Venugopalaswamy at Kere Thonnur near Pandavapura close to Mysore. It is a unique fusion of Vishnu on the left side & Shiva on the right, supported by the legend of a demon named Guhasura. Harihar is perhaps one of the northernmost locations in the State to showcase Hoysala style of temple-building.

One thing that cannot be missed is the growing populations of Muslims & Christians in and around the town. This is significant because Harihar is otherwise an agricultural centre, with most of the land held by Hindus and these two communities have generally played roles supportive to the main occupation. No doubt they have been there for decades, their numbers however are on the rise.

When I landed, Harihar was in the middle of a Feast organized for Our Lady of Good Health. The town was virtually under siege by people swarming in from far off places, their vehicles jamming the open spaces of every Government office, the visitors queuing up patiently before the inadequate public toilets, washing & drying themselves nearby, and others cooking & eating food a little distance away.

It was chaotic. Blending in smoothly was the inescapable slush of the monsoons, almost like the ‘YOU ARE HERE’ mnemonic on a map. Getting down from the bus in the incessant drizzle, walking down to the main road, the feeling of déjà vu was overpowered by a mild shock to see none of the familiar topography and finally I was advised by a friendly lodge owner to abandon seeking accommodation at Harihar. My grand plans of drinking this aura in overnight, were smashed to say the least. But then the show had to go on. I just resolved to shift my base to Davanagere and see what could be accomplished.

When the NH4 did actively pass through this town, the main road would be awake through the night, feeding long distance travelers and truckers alike. In fact the locals themselves kept up the activity till about 2AM, after the last movie ended. There would be an endless supply of mandakki, mirchi, paddu and idlis to be washed down with a steaming cup of K-Tea. People leaving town late in the night or reaching there early in the morning were greeted by these beacons of hope for bellies kept awake through a night journey. Perhaps they still do, though it could not be witnessed or savoured this time.

I dedicated the next day to Harihar. After a few snaps at the legendary cross-road, I walked down to the temple. It was closed but the idol was visible. I recalled one of my earlier visits many years ago, when we had walked down to the river from here. Though I came out, my mind was still seeking the sight of the river so I found another approach to the river, watched the old bridge, the railway bridge beyond and the Polyfibres plant farther on.

Then I sought out the popular joint that used to serve mandakki & mirchi during day time. True to my apprehensions I could not locate it, everything had changed. I stepped into the eatery that most resembled the old joint and asked for the fare. Their meal-time choices were quite different. So I lunched there and walked down to the old bridge, with the Raghavendra Mutt beside it. A few more snaps and I walked back to the circle. A city bus to Davanagere picked me up and dropped me about a kilometer short of my hotel. As I unlocked my room, I was tired but partially fulfilled.

Real fulfillment would come when my desire to stay at Harihar would come true. I wanted to stay amidst that life-giving slush and the cacophony of human activity brought alive during rush hour – if there was one such, because I have always imagined that there is some activity or the other beside this road, in some region or the other, 24x7. To someone who just loves to be on the road, to just look out of the window and watch the landscape roll by, to absorb and store away, could there have been a better location than NH4 bang opposite Harihar Bus Stand, to get his fix of the Highway?

There were other things and places too. The Harihar I remember had cozy little places like the riverside behind the Mutt near the old bridge, which has grown into an expanded yet crowded and concreted bit of real estate. The rear exit of the Temple leading to the river, which was not evident to a casual observer. The mandakki shop on Temple Road. The huge pit where pigs foraged, which was probably a drain during monsoons, and offered a shortcut from market to the extension. The APMC yard and beyond which was the end of town as we knew. The path that trailed off from beside APMC yard compound, went towards the river and took a turn towards a small village. Most of all, the constant companionship of my cousins Srinatha and Mamatha when I explored all these. Not to forget the late night walk up to NH4 to check out the food carts that Srinatha and I were privy to.

The next day I took a round trip to Mylara. From Davanagere to Ranebennur, Guttala and Mylara I could accomplish the distance in fair time but I was kind of disappointed by this place. Earlier visitors had lamented the remoteness of Mylara, true to the adage, ‘to go to Mylara after going round the Konkan’ but I found it quite easy to reach or exit from here. I was keen and curious to visit Mylara because it was the family deity of a couple of families I knew and they held it in high esteem. When I landed, half the village seemed to have assembled at the Bus Stand to participate in the Ganesh Chaturthi puja. The temple was quite deserted as noontime had just passed. Regular visitors & acquaintances were allowed right inside the sanctum for their worship and prayers. Then I discovered that the priests were after my money anyway and that part disappointed me.

For my return leg I chose the Huvvinahadagali, Harapanahalli, Harihar, Davanagere segment.  I was greeted by innumerable windmills mounted atop hills along the way occasionally silhouetted by rain-bearing clouds. I managed to reach Davanagere and then there was a cloudburst similar to 2 days before when I had landed there. For a few hours, it was a muddy river that went for the main road and the bus stand was also in deep waters. I bided my time and it was way past midnight when our bus left Davanagere.

Thus, Harihar today is not only at the crossroads physically, it is also at the threshold of a move towards future, albeit a pretty slow one, perhaps bogged by the rains. In fact that is a phenomenon which Harihar witnesses year after year – new waters flooding out the old.

Getting there: Harihar is well connected by road to all parts of the State. It is also on the Bangalore – Hubli rail route, is about 280km from Bangalore and takes 6-7 hours by train. Within the town, autos can take you around, or you can walk too. Accommodation is bearable and Davanagere (14km) definitely has an edge. Evening times are great for mandakki (spiced puffed rice), mirchi (long green chili dipped in batter and deep fried) and K-Tea (some say K is for kadak meaning strong).