A temple in the clouds

While on a driving holiday around Kerala and Karnataka, I was on my way to Kasargode in Kerala after a sojourn in the coffee plantations of Madekeri. I decided to take a small detour to check out something the locals said that I should not miss. A half an hour drive off SH 27, I stopped. Time stopped. 

I looked up and saw wisps of fog and mist swirling gracefully in a timeless mystical dance. They parted slightly to reveal a glimpse of serenity.

 A long flight of wide stone steps led my glance first up to the ochre-red tiled roofs peeking from between the clouds. Sounds from the priests’ puja bells tinkled faintly. The air was crisp, pure.

It was a temple in the clouds - the Talakaveri temple in the hills of Brahmagiri in Coorg, Karnataka.   A rectangular tank in the foreground of the premises of the temple is the focal point. The source of the River Kaveri or Cauvery – the mightiest river of South India; and the holiest.

Nothing is more peaceful than spirituality that is one with nature. Situated at a height of about 1300 mtrs amidst the Western ghats in South India, Tala Kaveri is about an hour’s drive away from Madikeri, the main town of Coorg.

Unlike most temples in South India, what set this one apart was its quiet dignity. South Indian temples often are extremely colourful, noisy, with loud chanting of the priests, the clamour of the crowds, symbols of spiritualism being sold in plastic packets or baskets from stalls that line the pathways and the outstretched arms of ubiquitous beggars. There was none of it here.  Just wide expanses of grey stone and concrete that blended and stayed muted amongst its surroundings.  

A Shiva temple and with a rare and ancient Shiva Linga, and another one dedicated to Ganesha stand sentinel to the holy tank. An Ashwantha tree where, according to legend, the Trimurtis - Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh - gave darshan to sage Agasthya, complete the triumvirate.

A priest guided us to a spot called the Kundike some distance further up where the Kaveri is said to originate as a spring feeding the tank. Disappointingly there was no visible flow of water there. However, each year, in mid October, on the Tulasankramana day, water is said to gush up from the spring at a predetermined moment.

Every river has her story. This was Kaveri’s lore. Sage Agasthya is said to have held the Kaveri river in his Kamandalam (a container of sacred water) while meditating. Lord Ganesha in a bid to distract the sage took the form of a crow and perched on the kamandalam. When Agasthya tried to shoo away the crow, the divine crow toppled the kamandalam and out flowed the Kaveri.

The stone steps leading to the temple didn’t stop there. They wind further up into the clouds from the temple. It was a fairly long walk up. Right up to the Brahmagiri peak. Yet more than the arduous climb up, it was the view once we got there that took our breath away. The Brahmagiri hills and its surroundings valleys and peaks shimmered a misty blue with soft sunlight playing catch among the hidden crags and crevasses.

Religious I am not. Yet this was the place I was going to get as close to being one.

But for the religious, this region called Bagamandala, has numerous other temples, each with its own folklore, customs and traditions. The Sri Bhagandeshwara temple, built in Karavali (West Coast) style;   the Kodava’s (the patrilineal ethno-lingual group from the region of Kodagu) temple at Padi for Lord Igguthappa; the holy spot of Triveni Sangam where the Kaveri is joined by two tributaries, the Kannike and the mythical Sujyoti river. A holy dip here is considered most sacred.

I did not stop at any of them. I did not want anything to dissipate my image of the ethereal Talakaveri that I carried in my mind. And to this day I do.