A short sojourn in Lonavala and Khandala

When the manic frenzy of the city gets to you, and urban paranoia begins to take its toll, it's time for an escapade. For that alone would calm the turbulent waters within. City folk name it "sabbatical". Whatever its name, ask any Mumbaiite and he/she would almost leap at the thought of escaping from the high-strung life of the grand metropolis where "you have no time to stand and stare". And they have help ready at hand- just a 100 kms from Mumbai- where one dreams to be cradled in the lush green countryside, in the hills of Lonavala. When the haven is so near, it becomes a much- aspired sojourn every other weekend to replenish the body and spirit. Especially during the monsoon when nature endows beauty in bounty.
So like every other harried urbanite, I too fasten my seat belt in the wee hours of the morning and drive down to this Arcadia as my city folk put it. The road itself is the panacea - long, beautiful winding road, treating the traveller to magnificient beauty all around. And filling the senses with such awesome sights that renew every cell till you are ready for the magic of the hills. The situation is further blessed for I have braved to embark upon this part of green earth in the midst of torrential rain. For once, I feel my instincts were right in picking the season for I am treated to the most splendid sight of mini - waterfalls on the way. (I am told the real ones in Lonavala are even more breathtaking). So I hold my excitement in anticipation of getting a larger share of the most unique sights denied to the Mumbai urbanite. And I suddenly feel like the chosen one. For heaven is sure not a place but an experience. An experience of bliss. Of supreme connection - that one moment of being in unison with nature. This for me is satori, if you ask me. The road to Lonavala does this to me as I pass the beautiful landscape of the carpeted-with- green hills of Khandala. The air is misty, the clouds hover above, with promise of a downpour.
Within two hours, I am in paradise - the hills of Lonavala beckon me personally. As I move through the small lanes of the quaint little town, I enjoy the maze. People, mostly the city crowds are there with their wind-cheaters and keds splashing through the small puddles of rain-water, out to trek their way in the hilly zone. Every corner is adorned with "chikki shops"- the famous sweet that the urbanites pack away in kilos. I too make a mental note and proceed along.
Instead of going straight to the hotel and wasting the lush landscape in an air conditioned room, I head for the famous caves-The Bhaja and Karla caves- the only place in India where 2000 year old woodwork can be seen. The roof at the carved end resembles a Gothic vault. At the far end of the hall stands a stupa, literally meaning a funeral mound above which is held an umbrella , a symbol of royalty. The whole system of lighting depends on the Great Chaitya window through which the alternating lights and shadows lend an air of solemnity to the scene. In fact few cave temples can match that of Karla for its dramatic lighting. Belonging to a great period in Indian history, it is natural the Karla had great impact on Buddhist art the world over. This great Chaitya of Karla was once a great place of pilgrimage for Buddhists from all over the world so that even as one walks in today, the place reverberates with the sound of the prayers of the yellow-clad monks.
A good or rather rough 3 kms from the main road, I head to the lusher and greener Bhaja caves (18 in all) that are believed to date from around 200BC. As I go back in time with these caves, I chance upon a strange group of 14 Stupas- 5 inside and 9 outside the caves. I walk on till I reach the last cave, and admire the fine sculptures. Just then, I begin to hear thunder-like sounds. The atmosphere is being set -f or the heavens to pour down on mortals. And I am ready to soak in the ambience. Unable to contain the excitement any more, the clouds give way. Thick, sensuous, cool drops, courtesy the rain Gods, shower upon me. I walk on, determined to enjoy it all. And just cannot believe my eyes. A few minutes walk from the last cave is a beautiful waterfall- cascading down in gay abandon. Ditto for me. I stand and stare at the old forts far-off. Time is till and I hold the droplets in my hand, unwilling to let go of even a drop.
The clouds get fiercer and I run back to the car, remembering to check into the hotel where I have booked. I take one last look at the caves like a lover and drive my drenched self away.
I check in, receiving smiles from many onlookers who enjoy the wet as rat sight. The manager shows me around- the dining hall, the promenade, the gym and last but not the least.."pool, Sir". As for me, I am just back from plunging into the largest pool- nature's own. And I reassure him..Thanks, but I won't need that. Looking at my state, he understands. Well, looking at my state...who wouldn't?