The view of Tiruvannamalai from Arunachala Hill
The days in Tiruvannamalai passed by rapidly.
I worked in the mornings, read in the afternoon, visited the ashram in the evenings, and stared at the stars and Arunachala from my terrace at night 🙂
Every full-moon, thousands of devotees do the girivalam — a 14-kilometre walk around Arunachala. The full-moon happened a few days after the fuel-pump incident and I was very excited to walk 14-kilometres in three and a half hours.
One morning, I climbed up Arunachala to visit the ancient Virupaksha cave where Ramana Maharishi had stayed for several years. There was an energy of immense peace in the cave. The mountaintop also offered a breathtaking view of the city and the Arunachaleshwara Shiva Temple.
In the mornings, I cooked Khichdi for myself and my evening meal was an uttapam with filter coffee at a restaurant opposite the ashram or a light meal at a nearby terrace restaurant. I often shared a table with other travellers and exchanged interesting stories with people from different parts of the world.
I enjoyed a wonderful 4-week stay in Tiruvannamalai and before I knew it, my stay was soon ending.
In the second half of my stay, the mercury had risen in Tiruvannamalai. To cool my body, I started consuming copious amounts of packaged lassi I bought from a supermarket near the ashram.
I’ve always had a problem with tonsils from childhood. Artificial fruit flavours, cold water, and aerated cold drinks don’t go well with me (fortunately, my system has never complained about beer). It’s been decades since I stopped drinking cold water and artificial juices, but somehow, lassi did not ring any alarm bells in my mind. It should have, because a week before leaving, my throat hurt like hell and I caught a very high fever that refused to subside, even after three days of complete bed rest and max doses of paracetamol. I also could not eat anything which left me very weak.
Bala and his family helped me a lot during this time. I will always be grateful to them for the generosity and kindness they showed me.
One of his cousins, who owned an auto-rickshaw, took me to the doctor and arranged for medicines. The doctor said that a virus was going around Tiruvannamalai and many people had come to him with similar complaints in the past few days. He put me on a regimen of heavy antibiotics that helped my throat get better in a couple of days. The fever also subsided. However, it took me a few more days to regain enough strength to walk around the apartment.
Bala arranged for a maid to clean the house, clothes, and wash the dishes. She also cooked a bit of khichdi in the morning. A katori of khichdi was about all I could eat without throwing up.
However, in the evening, my body refused any kind of solid food. During my frequent visits to the terrace restaurant behind my apartment, I had spoken often with the brothers who were caretakers of the restaurant. When I was unwell, they delivered a bowl of soup every evening. It was very kind of them because, as a practice, that restaurant did not do home deliveries.
I had to extend my stay in Tiruvannamalai, since it was impossible to travel back to Pune in that state of health. Once again, Bala was very helpful. He said I could stay as long as I wanted and could also leave when I was in better health with just one day’s notice. A super kind gesture on his part.
A few days later, when I was doing better, I walked to the terrace restaurant for dinner. The restaurant caretakers had already been very kind to me and I did not want to bother them further. I was also keen to go out and get some fresh air.
I’m sure many of you have watched the movie: The 36th Chamber of Shaolin. After the movie’s grand success, video libraries in Mumbai were flooded with kung-fu movies. I could never figure out the story in those movies, but they had a lot of antics and drunken kung-fu masters.
That day, on my way to the restaurant, my head started spinning after walking a few metres, after which I walked in the dark and dangerous alleys of Tiruvannamalai like a combination of a drunken kung-fu master and the brilliant Bollywood comedian, Keshto Mukherjee. Full of bravado, I climbed up two flights of stairs, swaggered into the terrace restaurant, tipped my hat, and shot a sideways glance at my new friend. Stabilising my body, I raised my right hand in greeting, while expertly balancing my water bottle in my left hand, after which I took the crouching tiger stance, and said, ijhiijhjiiyay, in a way that would have made even Keshto blush.
Anyway, I had a full plate of khichdi, which was quite an achievement considering my diet from the past few days. On my way back, I could walk like a normal sane human being. No crouching tiger; only ijhiijhjiiyay.
After saying ijhiijhjiiyay a few more times, my health improved steadily and my appetite returned to normal. However, I still wasn’t in a state to drive back to Pune, so I decided to stay in Tiruvannamalai for a few more days. After a certain point, my recovery plateaued. I think it was because the weather in Tiruvannamalai had become very hot.
Unable to take the heat much longer, I left for Pune after a couple of days. Even though my health was much better, the stomach cramps and weakness persisted. So, just to be safe, I asked Bala if we could find a good driver to take me to Bangalore. Bala spoke with his uncle, who had helped us earlier to find the car mechanic. He helped us, once again, by arranging for a trusted driver to drive my car to Bangalore.
With these arrangements done, I was keen on reaching Bangalore because I felt its milder weather would help me recover faster.
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