From time to time we travel to see places, to expand our horizons.
Every so often we travel, for leisure and pleasure.
Sometimes we travel on a journey, of the soul.
Swaying coconut trees by the beach
And that was Pondicherry for us, a journey of spiritual discovery of sorts. Especially to my confidante and friend on whose insistence I made the trip – eventually. Pondicherry had been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember, but cannot figure out why it did not feature in my travels until recently. Perhaps it was for an international destination that I’d skipped it, or for want of leave from work. Perhaps it was for a preference of a North Indian trip over a South Indian one, or a training program that must have come in the way of a Pondicherry exploration. Perhaps this, or that. I cannot put my finger on the reason behind the procrastination. Well, we ultimately made it, and that’s what matters.
The trip offered a significant deviation from the travel itineraries I am used to. This time around, I left the agenda to my travel partner, deciding to fall in line with her expectations of the trip, at least in terms of spiritual expressions. Always keen on divergent ideas and plans, I played along with her idea of a “spiritual journey” which was distinctly remote from mine.
Pondicherry beach
A bit about Pondicherry, which is known to most as being a French colonial settlement. It touches Tamil Nadu on the South Eastern Coast of India and exhibits French heritage in its typical colonial villas and stores. It houses the famed Pondicherry Museum which displays carriages, and intricate stone and bronze sculptures.
Ochre coloured villas
You can’t miss its chief attraction which is the seaside promenade, offering a panoramic view and featuring among the top things to do at Pondicherry. Nearby, at the southern end, lies the Bharathi Park, a tranquil paradise beach that is accessible only by boat.
Blue boats by the seashore
With its tropical climate all the year-round, the place is a popular travel haunt. The months of May, August and December through January are of high tourist demand. January heralds international yoga festivals, offering various workshops and demonstrations. Whereas Bastille Day in July offers food, fireworks and street parades – a celebration of French culture. Not to forget the Tamil Festival, Masi Magam celebrated in February. This festival involves processions, temple idols and ceremonial bathing in the sea. I recalled similar ritualistic dips on a similar trip to Odissa a few years ago, a sight that engrossed me a great deal. So much so that I’d observe the ritual standing right through it, without blinking until the end as I pored over its religious history.
We checked in at the resort and were provided with a cottage far from the main lounge. There was a clamorous activity with preteens bouncing up and down in excitement as they hailed buggies, mini cars, engaged in zorbing and what else in what’s called a FunZone. Of course, children are supposed to be fun and all, but our expectations of quietude were hopelessly lost with their frolic. We exchanged knowing looks, my friend and I, over what we thought could be a lost exploration for her self-expansion and soul growth amid the din.
After a lavish lunch buffet, for which Club Mahindra is known, we lazed around the rest of the afternoon. This was our first day here; hence relaxation was the keyword. The Club’s meal plans were worth the spend, offering a package of Rs. 1,850 per head if you went in for an all-meal package. These are termed “fun coupons” which we naturally used, as they made more sense over going a la carte.
Club Mahindra Puducherry
The evening was spent mainly splashing around in the pool, followed by singing at a rather cacophonous karaoke night. There was a mixed crowd, with a leaning towards Bollywood numbers but I wanted to make a mark in what was termed the “Western section”, singing my heart out until the voice turned into a hoarse whisper. Cheering does that to me, with my friend being a synonym for the ‘C’ word.
Dinner was an even larger spread of Continental food counters as well as exotic Indian, Mughlai, and Asian fare. My girth has always been an area of concern – the size of it – I mean. That’s what keeps me from overindulging in my favourite offline pastime which is eating. Sigh.
Club Mahindra property
The next morning saw us gorging on a breakfast spread of eggs, pancakes, cereals and juices. The dosas were to die for. Looking at us, anyone would think that we’d been intermittently fasting!
Soon after, we spent some time at the famous promenade which reminded me of the Promenade D’Anglais at Nice, France. The French connection undeniably.
It’s a good idea to have a driver at your disposal to help avoid the stress of navigation and parking. It also allows you the freedom to jabber away with not a care in the world, of say, an oncoming vehicle or a lurch over a speed bump. Our driver took us straight to the quaint French Quarter, a slice of history left behind by the French. Mustard coloured buildings with white courtyards govern the portion called Ville Blanche or White Town.
At times, it takes stepping out of the car and walking to get a closer view of spots like Baker’s Street and its villas with bright tree-lined boulevards. I was particularly fixated by an old-style colonial building with an embroidery centre. So exquisitely embroidered were its home furnishings that it was hard to decide which one to buy. We moved on to the well-known Alliance Francaise, located inside a pristine white villa flanked by the French Quarter on the one side and the sea on the other. The sea can do things to the senses, rendering a peace that only seas are capable of. One of those senses came in the form of hunger pangs which brought us to a French Café in the verandah of someone’s residence. Sipping a steaming cup of coffee served with hot croissants, overlooking a garden that had a little well, completed the dream evening.
Morning came and thoroughly refreshed by now, we set out for Auroville, an experimental township 10 km away. It was encouraging to see various nationalities attracted to this progressive township, they who live here in harmony. The City of Dawn it is called, which I later came to learn was termed rightly so.
It houses a host of art and craft centres, shoppes and fine restaurants. There were sellers displaying candles, agarbattis, essential oils, and pure cotton, not forgetting the famous Matrimandir and the Golden Dome sitting erect in the centre of Auroville. It is a structure of worship built by “The Mother”, after a French lady named Mirra Alfassa. Her love for India was so great that she came to be Sri Aurobindo’s primary disciple. Not only did she aid him in his spiritual work but also served to guide other pilgrims. It was her ardent dream to create an edifice as this, one dedicated for deep meditation and silent introspection.
We watched the structure from afar as we weren’t allowed to go close not even for photographs. It was disappointing to not be permitted entry without obtaining a pass which later had us standing in a serpentine queue for it. Also, the queueing didn’t turn out to be beneficial either as, by the time we reached the counter, the passes for the next day were sold out. The place shuts by 5 pm which made it impossible for us to plan a daytime activity the next day too, as we would have to trudge back to secure an entry pass. We had no recourse but to pass the evening hours and return to Auroville the next morning, just for the passes. As luck could have it, or should I say lack of it, we could manage only a single pass. Lucky for her, as it was for the spiritual exploit that she’d made the trip. Not to me, it wasn’t for spiritual reasons that I came a-visiting Pondi.
Golden Dome
At times, an absence of luck can be a boon, as I used the spare time to catch the sunset at Ousteri Lake and chat with a few knowledgeable French tourists. I learnt even more from them than what I learnt about Pondicherry from the locals. Tourist guides are often a sham.
Church of Sacred Heart of Jesus
While on this, I’d like to make a point – one of developing discipline in the process of travel planning. Which is why I prefer to draw my travel itineraries on my own, to be able to go into detail about sight timings and advance bookings to avoid unwarranted situations as this. When it’s for just a few days that one travels, it’s imperative to utilise those days well. I was naturally excluded in the Auroville experience, as the soul-searching journey was hers in essence. She went on a discovery journey of her own, while I stayed back alone.
An expression came to mind, one that I composed at the end of a somewhat unfulfilled day, not as much in terms of what to see and do but of missing the heart of the matter. Or should I say the soul.
Of what use is this travel
Maketh no sense to the soul
If all ye gain is babble
Rather than be whole.
