Now , lets talk our language.
We set out at 7:30AM laden with biscuits , fruits , dates , Filter kaapi flask , hand towel , leg towel, towel towel , newspaper , 3 library books(which were stored carefully in a separate 'book' bag in case they got lost/damaged/lost and damaged),iodex, amritanjan,shampoo hair comb, paddle hair comb, soap,dettol.
Suffice to say , my Mother's previous birth must have been that of an ant.A wary one at that.
Car driving always puts me into a bad mood.The pressure of having to save one's life , one's dependent's lives(which includes Petunia's as well) is a little too much to handle.Especially with Petunia , she's certainly not a morning person.There was a maddening jam at the Mysore road junction , a demented Sumo guy came and hit my bumper and sailed forth after showering abuses on ME!I showed off my vocabulary rather well , only to find two horrified faces looking at me wondering what they had done wrong. Sheesh! Sometimes there's no winning , is there?
Once out of Kengeri , the highway broadens into three and that's when you really start enjoying the drive.At this point , I felt like the girl from the Sumo Victa Ad , any of you remember her?She's the one who drives a Sumo Victa with her entire family dozing behind her.Found it.
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An hour later , we stopped at Kamat Lokaruchi(Lok-aa-ruchi as Gee calls it in her Punju accent :)) for breakfast.You have a choice of a breakfast-Buffet versus singal-singal order.Buffet it was!We were served little glasses of fresh pure grape juice , 2 hot idlies , crispa vadas , hot pongal,the kharabath-kesaribath duo, and quarter pieces of hot masala dosa, with chutney and sambar.That's one thing I love about Karnataka.The food.Its a vegetarian's paradise.
We washed down the breakfast with a cup of hot filter kaapi , found ourselves smiling dreamilly(obviously because of the breakfast) and sauntered into Janapada Loka which is right next to Lokaruchi.
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What struck me most about the temple were its walls, walls that had probably seen history unfold.
Old.Majestic.Sanctuary , yes , thats the word to describe it best.
The station guard sauntered up to me while I was clicking away and asked me if I was press-avaru.I told him I'd put it up on the internet , would he like to strike a pose?He blushed a brilliant red and changed the subject.He pointed to a poster of the ' Fairy Queen' and told me very sadly that steam engines were a thing of the past.
As I slowly pulled out of the railway station towards the highway , I could hear familiar voices in my head , that of Patti describing to me how my great grandad had to sell our Mysore home in order to treat a great aunt's illness , how Thatha used to come back to a *rented*(she would sigh at this time) house in Mysore , some more about the mango trees and the jackfruit orchards.Somehow that entire stretch from Bangalore to Mysore is like a cord that connects me to my past , familiar names -Chennapatna , Maddur, Mandya,Srirangapatna , T-Narsipur(we had old barren land there -but catch me calling it that in front of Patti) and then finally Mysore.