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| Woman standing in front of her house and the colorful Kolam |
The gravel was hurting my feet. After all, I was walking on the streets without footwear. I was walking in the village that doesn't wear footwear. The logic was simple — everywhere you turned, you would tumble into a temple. When we reached the place after a four-hour hike the previous night, a board that read ‘Please remove the foot wears' welcomed us. We obliged.
Vellagavi is a small hamlet located on a hill top, home to 99 families and 300-odd people. Along with the houses, there are 24 temples of all kinds located within the village. The houses were packed so close that you could count the number of lanes on your fingers. And, every lane ended up around a temple. The devotion in the people was quite obvious — the village was holy, the temples were holy, and they firmly believed in the gods above. The day we visited was the last day of a week-long of prayers held for rain; It did rain the previous day!
Road-less travel
On a higher ground, next to a grassy patch was a Muruga Temple with a brilliant view of the forests below and the mountains above. As we walked back from the temple, a retired headmaster of the primary school, Shanmugham, greeted us. I was shocked to know this village had a school and even a post office — although there is no road connectivity to this village.
One can reach the place only on foot on a steep trail — either through the jungle up from Kumbakarai or down the hill from Kodaikanal. The village has been in existence before the pre-Independence days, and it's a surprise that such an old settlement, so close to Kodaikanal, never got a road.
The headmaster was kind enough to invite us for a cup of coffee, and told us many more stories of his village. He said no one was spared from the ‘no footwear' rule. He went on to say that 15 years ago when a certain forest ranger refused to remove his footwear and entered the village, he was ‘duly punished' on his way down — he was attacked by a bison and lost his legs.
The lady of the house handed us hot cups of coffee. It was strong and black — with no cattle around, milk was a rare commodity there. All the essentials had to be bought from Kodaikanal. They live off the earnings from the estates and the produce, which mainly consists of fruits and coffee.
Tremendous hospitality
Later another family invited us for a scrumptious breakfast. Based on the tremendous hospitality they'd shown us, I assumed this village didn't see much tourist traffic. But I couldn't have been more wrong. Vellagavi is part of a village tourism circuit where, and gets frequent visitors from Kodaikanal, mostly foreigners. And, the incredible generosity is just part of their culture. I have found that people who live in trying terrains have been the most kind.
Hours later we said farewell, walked barefoot to the village boundary, put on our shoes and started the three-hour climb. As I walked towards Kodaikanal, I wondered when the last time was that I got invited for a cup of coffee by a stranger.
Far across the distance I saw mountains with dark clouds looming. Soon, the village and its charms were buried deep in my thoughts. But Vellagavi could do with a road.
This story originally appeared in The Hindu
This story originally appeared in The Hindu
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