These three unrelated things came to a head in my life in November 2023.
And last week when Wow Dinga and Little Po came home with a new Rubik’s cube gifted by their aunt who had just returned from Hungary, it all came back to me.
The old Rubik’s Cube
Rubik’s cube as we all know is a 3 dimensional puzzle invented by the Hungarian architect and sculptor Erno Rubik to demonstrate to his pupils, the structural problem with pivoting moving parts without having the structure falling apart.
It was later marketed as a toy and since then has been popular with children and adults alike, attaining almost cult like status..
Anna Shetty had planned a holiday to Egypt over the Diwali break and a cruise on the Nile was one of the highlights of that trip It was going to be a longer holiday than their usual four day break and since it would involve lots of historical sights ( read b o r i n g for the kids) and waiting at airports ( read t i r e s o m e ) etc, she brought along a Rubik’s Cube to keep the boys entertained and away from each other’s throats.
Gaza
Our holiday was booked well in advance and we were all ready to fly out on the night of 10th November. But a month earlier on 7th October, Hammas and several other Palestinian organisations launched simultaneous attacks on Israel from Gaza.
That was enough to throw our arrangements out of whack. Not only were we anxious about going ahead with our trip but but worried that something might happen if we went ahead.
Many people cancelled their holidays to Egypt, and our travel agent had to jiggle around with our hotels etc and our cruise ship. She squished us in a cruise that had a group of Koreans and a group of East Europeans since we definitely didn’t want to eat Butter Chicken and Curry rice with other exclusive ‘Indian’ cruises.
The Cruise
So we found ourselves boarding the ship that we boarded.
After we settled into our cabins, we went down for lunch and were assigned a table near the Europeans. with distinctly Slavic features. They were a bunch of old ladies and two men – one young and one old. Playing detective, I surmised that they were a group of friends travelling with their tour coordinator ( the older man who was the only one who spoke English). The younger man, with floppy hair and small eyes, who I thought was travelling with his mum (a lady who resembled him).
While everyone on the tables were chattering, I felt the young man’s eyes boring into our table. I realised he was staring at Anna Shetty. We were quite used to people staring at her so we didn’t pay much attention. But when winked at her, I was a bit horrified. Surely this man knew she was travelling with her family and was decidedly not single.
On the deck while passing through the locks at Luxor
The Europeans were up too and having a merry time laughing and joking. And the Starer kept staring out at the sea.
Suddenly, one of the ladies came up to Little Po, smiled a wide smile and pointed at him. She then made a gesture of twisting the cube and pointed to herself. We guessed that she wanted to try, so we offered it to her. She refused, shaking her head and ran back to her table. A few minutes later, she came with the Starer in tow.
We were totally shocked when he pointed to the cube and spoke to us in English! He explained that his group was from Hungary, the land of Erno Rubik and that his mother was intrigued with the speed with which the boys solved the puzzle.
But what shocked us more was his revelation that he was a nuclear physicist working in the Netherlands!
So much for my wild imagination! That wink and stare must have just been his way of trying to reach out to people younger than his old mum and her friends.
It was our last day in the Konkan, and we had just three more things to cross off our bucket list. We had been receiving frantic phone calls from home, warning us that Mumbai was lashed with heavy rains and to be careful while walking around.
But as we were sipping tea on the verandah, I saw a Ganesha standing out amongst the green in the distance.
I knew it would be a good day despite the clouds hanging low and the occasional drop of rain plopping down.
Can you see the lighter green creeper curve into a Ganesha with his trunk turning to the right ?
Anna Shetty had once gone to Ganpatipule with her gang of medical students and they had had such a good time, that I was curious to find out for myself what magic this temple held. Besides, the name itself has a nice ring to it.
The Ganesh Temple
Ganpatipule is famous for its beach temple of a self generated or swayambhu idol of the elephant-headed god Ganesh. This idol doesn’t have the usual flapping ears normally seen on a Ganesh but it mesmerises you with its serene expression. The bulging eyes and curved trunk somehow make it seem that Lord Ganesh is having a good chuckle.
It had started drizzling by the time we reached the temple so we had to be careful as we made our way inside. We bought our trays of flowers and incense from one of the numerous vendors before going in.
The Ganpati festival was just over yet the festive air still lingered despite the fact that it was part of Pitrupaksh. (the fifteen days when Hindus offer prayers to their ancestors). The temple was relatively empty and we got a peaceful darshan. The priest said a special prayer as he offered our flowers to the idol. And while going out I whispered a special wish in the mouse’s ear.
Unfotunately it was really raining hard by the time we left the temple and couldnt go to the beach to see how it looked from afar. In any case, the awning erected for the waterproofing made it quite difficult to see the temple itself.
An unexpected literary treasure
I’m ashamed to admit that neither Mrs B nor I know much about Marathi literature. So a visit to acclaimed Marathi poet Krishnaji Keshav Damle’s ancestral home that has been converted to a memorial, wasn’t really on our itinerary. But when we went to the restaurant at Malgund, we found it still closed. The manager advised us to go further ahead and visit the memorial instead of sitting in the car for over half an hour waiting for the restaurant to open.
And I’m glad we did because Keshavsut ( meaning son of Keshav) the pen name under which he wrote his poems was one of the major poets of Modern Marathi literature, breaking away from the tradition of writing poems in praise of the gods or mythology. Since it was raining, we didn’t go inside ( there was a huge puddle near the entrance ) and I just took a few pictures of his house.
A magnificent sculpture of a man playing the TUTARI. A tribute to the poem TUTARI, a call to arms.
Behind the house was a pavillion that had slabs of the poet’s work engraved on stone tablets. I thought it was a beautiful way to present his work to the uninitiated like me
I tried reading the poems but gave up trying to understand them and resorted to Google Translate instead.
The building behind had a library, a small, covered space for events and a large room with stunning pencil sketch portraits of Marathi poets and authors in the last hundred years.
It would seem strange to drive hundreds of miles to eat the food I eat at home but it’s always nice to eat food that’s cooked by someone else.
Swad by Mehandale is a good example of our homecooked food and is very popular with my clansmen who come from near and far to visit this part of the world.
The pure vegetarian thaliThe restaurant in a traditional homeWaiting for the ‘shop’ to open
Savarkar’s Temple
The road back to Ratnagri was nothing short of picturesque. It was a narrow winding road with lush green on either side, going up and down the hilly mountainside. From time to time we would get glimpses of untouched beach, with foamy waves breaking on the sand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any photos as it was raining quite heavily by now. But this road was scenic and would have been a wonder to drive on a sunny day.
There was one more historic spot in Ratbagiri we had to visit: the Savarkar Memorial.
Apart from the statue at the beginning of the complex, the memorial itself was a real let down. Vinayak Damodar Savarkar was an early freedom fighter who not only fought for freedom but also advocated social change in the fabric of our caste driven society. The Patit Pavan temple that stands as a memorial to him is actually built as per his design, specifically for all Hindus even those outside the caste system to worship in.
Unlike Gandhi, he actually encouraged armed resistance against the British and was one of the first people to put forth the idea of a Hindu nationalist identity. He always courted controversy and was even imprisoned in the notorious Cellular Jail in the Andamans, a place where the British consigned the political prisoners to.
The idols of Laxmi and VishnuPatit Pavan templeThe lighthouse
We still had some time to spare so we decided to see the Ratnadurga Fort which was an important fortication during the 17th and18rh Century. But it was really disappointing with new construction and lots of stairs to climb We also gave the lighthouse a skip because the road was steep and slushy.
With that, our Konkan trip came to an end and we retired for the night hoping that the next day would be dry. It was going to be a 7 hour drive back.
Going to the Konkan made a me understand why so many people love this part of the world. Even though my ancestors left this place hundreds of years ago, I felt I had come home.
I also understood why most of my clansmen left this place. After all, we weren’t fish eaters, so how many mangoes, coconuts and rice could we subsist on?
But with better communication and connectivity both virtual and real, it won’t be long before this part of the world loses some of its innocent charm.
Visit it now before modernity transforms it into another cookie cutter urban sprawl.
There is a long coast line along the west of India – starting from Gujarat, and going down Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka all the way to Kerala.
This narrow strip of land suqshed between the Sabyadri mountains and the Arabian Sea is lush green for most parts of the year with rain pelting down in the monsoon months. Nothing much grows there apart from mango, coconut, cashew nut and rice. There are some other indigenous plants too like Kokum (garcinia indica), jackfruit and banana. But by and large the mountains and the sea made it inaccessible for years, leaving it isolated and underdeveloped for years. It was no wonder that people migrated to seek their fortunes elsewhere.
But ever since my mum came back from her trip to the West Coast, she couldn’t stop raving about how fabulous her holiday was. As far as I knew, she had just spent a weekend at a homestay in Harnai Beach and had enjoyed the seafood and the company of a couple of friends but came back as ecstatic and fascinated as though she’d returned from the West Coast of America!
I had to find out for myself.
So now, after half a day at Alibag, it was time to move south towards Ratnagiri, the land of my ancestors.
Look before you book
I didn’t have much time to do any research on Ratnagiri. All that I knew was that my ancestors came from the area. My parents had once visited our ancestral village and I was fascinated to know that there is a place on this earth where everyone ( or almost everyone ) shared my surname!
But I wasn’t really going in search of my ancestral village. I just wanted to spend a few days away from the hustle and bustle of Mumbai, relax and enjoy the cool breezes of the West Coast. We weren’t looking for a place on the beach. Nor were we looking for a fancy hotel. All we were looking for was a decent homestay .
Sadly, the homestay options offered by the travel agent didn’t quite make the mark so we were booked in the Dio Reggalo Theme resort which was perched on a hill 17 Km away from the city. Not only was this hotel inconveniently located, it was very poorly managed.
With no signage to guide us, and no lights to see where we were going, we completely missed the Reception. And when we went back to it, the ‘manager’ started spraying some mosquito repellent and told us not to come inside. But since he was expecting us, he sent the bell boy to show us our room.
We were allotted a room in a cottage on the top row. This was highly inconvenient and dangerous for two old ladies to go traipsing around slippery slopes in the dark. The room didn’t have a single plug point that worked and such poor lighting that we had to use our phone torches to find the plugs and switches. When we asked for a change of room, the bell boy was shocked that we wanted to move because this room had a television that worked!
The staff was poorly trained and had no idea of what hospitality meant. The restaurant had an exhaustive menu but half the items weren’t available.
So a word of warning: call up the hotel and check if it meets your requirements. Find out all the amenities available and the general layout of the property.
The Palace of A Burmese King
The disappointment of the choice of hotel didn’t dampen our enthusiasm to visit the city. After all, we hadn’t really come to Ratnagiri to sit around and have chai in the verandah. We just wanted a spot from where we would visit other places nearby.
The sky was still overcast and threatened to rain so after a quick breakfast, we made our way to the city to see one of its main attractions – the Palace of Thibaw, the last king of Burma.
At first glance, the building looks impressive but must have been a real comediwn for King Thibaw who lived here under house arrest for the last six years of his life. De-throned and deposed, the last king of Burma was sent to far off Ratnagiri, with his second wife who was pregnant at the time, a place so isolated and desolate that he would truly be lost to his people and the world. Deposed in 1885, the royal family lived for 24 years in another house till the Palace was completed in 1910,
Sadly, he lived there a broken man till his death in 1916. Thereafter his family moved back to Burma leaving behind a daughter ( Tu Tu) who had married a local palace retainer. Till today her descendants live in Ratnagiri in relative poverty quite unmindful of their royal lineage.
After the royal family left the building, it was used as a government office for a while and then as a Polytechnic till its present avatar as a museum.
Recently, the government has made some efforts to refurbish the building and the roof has been re-tiled and some of the original Burma teak wood doors replaced.
The interior, however, is a real let down. An old caretaker makes you sign a book and pay a fee of Rs. 30. There is no one to take you around and the caretaker warned us not wander off as much of the edifice is crumbling and areas are cordoned off. There are some rooms on the first floor that have sculptures that were found in the area but of no relevance to the King. Another room has a portrait of the solemn looking king, and a carved chair but is totally inaccessible for a close look.
But the Government seems to be serious about restoring the palace from the Sound and Light show slated to be held after the monsoon. In front of the mansion you can find lights and benches waiting patiently for the show to begin.
It will be quite awhile before the building is restored to its orignal form and till then, a visitor will be welcomed and shown around by a few enthusiastic stray dogs and a desultory watchman.
The Royal Tombs
We visited the tombs where he and his wife are buried but once again, the complex had neglect written all over it. In 2016, a hundred years after King Thibaw’s death, his descendants from Burma were allowed to visit the tombs to pay their respects. At that time there was a cursory spruce up but soon enough they were left to descend into ruin.
Isn’t it a pity that the King of Burma, head of one of the richest provinces of the British Empire lies in a badly maintained tomb , un-marked, ignored and neglected in the middle of the city, amidst crumbling apartment blocks?
The tombs were inaccessible with tall grasses and weeds growing all around. We did manage to enter one compound but were scared to venture close because of the mossy tiled brickwork that may have had us slip and fall!
Birthplace of a freedom fighter
While the King of Burma was exiled to Ratnagiri, one of Ratnagiri’s famous sons was imprisoned in Mandalay ( Burma). Was it by coincidence or design?
Keshav Gangadhar Tilak known as BAL Gangadhar Tilak was born in a modest house that is restored to its pristine glory.
Well maintained and well kept it is memorial that showcases his life and involvement with the freedom movement.
The house opposite which is still in use remains a good example of Konkan architecture in the late 19th century.
I wish that both Thibaw’s Palace and Tilak’s house were recreated to show how they actually lived in those times. If nothing else, a well informed guide would have added value to a tourist’s visit.
Konkan Angan
It was time for lunch and taking a tip from Trip Advisor, we selected the #3 restaurant on their list since that seemed to be the only restaurant offering local cuisine. We drove on the highway towards our hotel and almost missed the restaurant.
It looked so different from the photos on Trip advisor which showed a decent but simple eatery with outdoor seating.
What we got instead was a non descript set of three garages in a building still under construction. . One garage and was for the general public and had plastic chairs and metal tables. The other garage to which we were invited had one table covered with a gaudy rexine table cloth and plastic chairs.
I was a bit apprehensive but Mrs B was quite confident that such a simple place would serve authentic homemade food that was tasty and fresh.
She was right as always and she enjoyed her crab curry and rice flour bhakri while I relished my freshly fried, freshly caught surmai slice with bhakri. We washed down this meal with a glass of the creamiest sole kadhi.
The rexine covered table cloth.
It was definitely a meal worth having and when we saw the number of people coming for takeaways and eating next door, we realised that TripAdvisor knew what they were talking about.
By this time the rain had started so we returned to our room on the hill.
By evening the clouds had descended on us. All around us was lush green foliage and a peaceful calm.
I began to understand why my mum was ecstatic about the West Coast.
Twenty- five Seven 