Where there’s a will, there’s Auroville: Un-planning Tiruvannamalai and Auroville

Power be to unplanned trips. What adventure and beauty!

Madivala check-post in Bangalore was our meeting point. Only, we knew not where it was, and that different people called it by different names — sounds like God, doesn’t it? — hardly helped.

Tiruvannamalai, around 220 km from Bangalore, was to be our first destination. I had been there once before, and was taken in enough to want to visit it again. There is nothing to “see” there, just a 14 km temple-studded walk around a hill (“malai” in Tamil), and another huge, beautiful temple.

My friends Swarnata and Mohan, though hardly keen on the idea of an unplanned trip, much less to boring-sounding Tiruvannamalai, decided to accompany me. As warm-up for the 14 km marathon walk, they walked 2 km in hunting for the starting point.

The bus to Tiruvannamalai arrived just as my friends reached the opposite side of the road. Crossing the road, like crossing the final shore, required a leap of faith. On this side, the bus driver kept threatening to drive away, with me pleading with him and gesturing frantically to my friends. On the other side, my friends were dodging vehicles armed with their lack of expertise. A couple of minutes and a few missed opportunities at dying later, we caught on to an interesting bus journey.

A wicked sense of humour the driver had. When asked if we had to yield our seats to ladies, he replied ” no need, it is all co-education.” Touching. His un-repressed, uninhibited joy at another’s discomfiture when Mohan accidentally banged his head against the TV was touching, too; I have filed this lesson away for my book, “Cry, and the World laughs at you.”

A planned trip assures one of delays at the starting point and during the journey. But an unplanned trip assures one of beating the expected time–especially because one doesn’t expect. We reached Tiruvannamalai at 11, half-hour earlier than scheduled.

The next hour would be the newcomers’ test of faith. Mohan and Swarnata, though not exactly beacons of peacefulness, had thus far exhibited remarkable manly (Mohan) and un-manly (Swarnata) fortitude and indomitable courage. But the sight of slabs of unfinished concrete and the fumes of many, heavy vehicles triggered off visible “exhaust” and “fumes” of discontent, under which even the otherwise calm Prasad was choking. I longed to see the hill if only to escape these flames of fury.

Naturally, and as human-ly as humans in the concrete jungle that is our cities, we had lost our way. Passers-by guided us correctly this time. We circumambulated the hill. More than four hours later, we had passed our first test of faith.

At 5 in the morning, after some bananas and tea, we took the bus to Pondicherry. If there was something to write about this part, I missed it, because I was sleeping peacefully. We reached Pondicherry at 8.

Pondicherry proper and the prospect of staying there did not appeal to us, so we took an auto to Auroville, where our un-planning again helped us. We checked out a few guest houses/hotels within and outside Auroville, and chanced upon the most beautiful guest house inside Auroville, thanks to our friend Ramya. Our hosts appeared divinely instructed: they prepared breakfast for us for free, drove us around Auroville when we were without a vehicle or escort, and even provided an extra table fan in the room to beat the heat.

Auroville was nice. I see why it is in some sense an ideal township. The spirit of sharing, the unhurriedness, and a non-competitive work ethic give to the place an aura of goodness and silent beauty. People from worldwide have made it their home, and for a reason. We visited also the Sadhana Forest, which houses and nurtures eco-conservation projects, and is a worthwhile experiment in sustainable living.

We set out for Pondicherry the next day. The beach was our first halt. It was hot. The road to it stank of urine, mostly, but there was also no poverty of spirit — of the alcoholic kind. Beauty pristine and indifference sublime can co-exist only in India.

Evening saw us at the Aurobindo Ashram. A serene, nice place. The French Quarter and the beach nearby beckoned us next.

With hours to spare before the return train, boredom struck. Coincidence struck immediately too: Jenny and Steph of the French Half–Steph is French–called upon us, and what’s more, were just a few minutes away. Sharing of experiences, a long walk, forgettable dinner, and a nice relaxing time at a lounge bar finished off the evening.

Pondicherry pleasantly surprises with its huge bicycling population: even girls, ladies, and oldies think just once of cycling in sarees and salwar kameezes, and at times, double-seat. The place has H. G. Wells’ blessings: Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race.

Our return train was, without doubt, the most beautiful train I have ever travelled in. Our heart rates hardly tracked our experience these last two days: Swarnata topped the list with 98, Mohan came second with 80, and Prasad lagged behind at a measly 60. My heart is beating, hopefully faster this time, for another unplanned trip.