Read this musically vibrant travelogue written by Sangeeta Malhan, where she shares a deeply personal and joyous nine-day road trip experience through the Western Ghats, undertaken with her husband. Know how the couple enjoyed vibrant landscapes, rich cultural experiences, and soulful music—dedicating each day to a different Mohammed Rafi song and colour.
Let’s tell you everything.
This journey began when my husband retired after 36 years of service as a commercial pilot. During this time, Captain Tejinder Singh Malhan logged 24,000 hours, flying three different types of aircraft. He started as a trainee in 1988 on the Boeing 737-200 with Indian Airlines, a profit-making concern, renowned for its skilled trainers and deft aviators.
In 1992, Teji was sent as a co-pilot on the Airbus 320, of which he took command seven years down the line, and operated that machine as a Commander for 15 years. Thereafter, he was trained on the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Nine years in Command here. In 2007, Indian Airlines was merged with Air India. (A foolish decision, I think, as a former aviation correspondent. But that’s another story.)
In all those years, Captain Malhan had not travelled in his own country as a carefree tripper. Ironical, isn’t it…that the women and men flying these huge birds, and taking you to and from your destinations are unable to saunter around tourist spots at leisure for long periods of time. Their routines are governed by strict schedules of how much energy to expend before retiring to their rooms to prepare for the next set of take-offs and landings. Teji did not get too many leaves either. Receiving `approval’ for a ten-day break, once in a year, was also cause for celebration.
So, when he voluntarily took retirement in 2024, the entire domain of pleasure trotting opened up in front of him. Visibly thrilled, he looked at the possibility of a road trip through the Western Ghats, something he had wanted to do since we set up a retirement home in Goa. He planned each little detail of the sojourn, pored over the maps, got a sense of the route, booked every lodging, and prepped up the car. February seemed like a great time to embark upon this nine-day journey through Goa, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala. The flowers are in full bloom in Spring, there’s a strong breeze, and the weather is rather agreeable. Vasant ritu, any time, for both of us.
By the time I joined him in Goa (I had been editing an 8-page newspaper at the World Book Fair for the National Book Trust, Ministry of Education, in Delhi, and closing yet another project), he had tied up every loose end. When I entered the house the day before we were to set sail, I noticed that everything was packed and ready. (Disciplined and organized. We share those values.) What cheered me up was a chummy little goodies bag, full of knick-knacks, sitting pretty in the dining area. Apples, oranges, popcorn, buttermilk and cashew. Mmmm! 😊
Now, for the headliner. I dedicated our first road trip together to the one and only Mohammed Rafi. Teji is an ardent admirer of the legend. And, I had recently become a passionate devotee after hearing Mann re…tu kaahe na dheer dharey. The composition is from the Hindi film Chitralekha. The music is by Roshan, and the lyrics are by Sahir Ludhianvi. It is a confluence of all the Greats. Hear it! You won’t regret it.
I’ve had Rafi’s authorized biography for a while, and I began re-reading it with fresh eyes. So, when I rode shotgun, I shared stories about the `exalted one’ (That’s what Rafi’s name means). And, when I was at the wheel, we sang his songs. Each day, we offered one colour and one song to his memory. During the 1400 kilometers that we covered over nine days, we belted out more than 500 songs. Effortlessly. Happily. Wholeheartedly! And, we knew the lyrics to almost every melody.
February 21. Rich Green. Tum jo mil gaye ho… Day 1. Dabolim (Goa) to Shivamogga (Karnataka). Over 330 kilometers. Possibly 7 hours. We left at 6 a.m., and sharing the driving (switching every 90 minutes), we went past the Sharavathi Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, meandering up a zigzag path. Verdant, lush, dense. I spot the Aghanashini River (Agha – sin + Nashini – destroyer) which becomes the Zuari in Goa, which we can see from our rooftop. Breakfast brought excellent coffee. Such a pleasure! And, the road ahead was decent.
Day 2. Sunny Yellow. Yeh waadiyan, yeh fizaayein bula rahee hain tumhein. On to Mysuru after excellent upma and chutney for breakfast. I bought jasmine flowers for the car. We had 245 kilometers in front of us. Six hours. The road was awful in the beginning. Speed breakers jutted out turgidly, and the poor car ambled over broken pathways. When we crossed Channarayapatna (district Hassan), however, it smoothened a bit but became narrow. The countryside was carpeted with flowers.
We reached Mysore – associated with the famed Wadiyars and the magnificent Dasara festival. I was excited because I was going to pick up Mysore Paak, a delicacy from my childhood days. We had also opted to visit the Sand Sculpture Museum in the city instead of going to the Mysore Palace. The artwork in this first-of-its-kind museum is spectacular and has to be seen at close quarters to be fully appreciated. We also made a quick dash to the Brindavan Gardens. When we started for Ooty the next morning, I felt we could’ve spent one more day here. Next time perhaps.
Day 3 – To Udhagamandalam – a resort town in the Nilgiris district of Tamil Nadu. Over 135 kilometers and more than four hours. Blue is the colour. Diwana hua baadal – the song of the day. We went through the Bandipur National Park and the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve. It is a chit of a road, full of tourist vehicles. Why we were being allowed to go through two Reserve areas, I do not understand. But I drove through the entire stretch, swearing under my breath. A rickety jeep had been tailgating me, honking continuously and trying to overtake me on such a crick of a path. Finally, I rolled down my window and let him have it in chaste Tamil. Aargh!
Ooty deserves a separate paragraph. And, she will have more than one. At the approach to this winsome hill station is a Chocolate Museum, which displays information on how the delicacy is produced. It was also selling essential oils and herbal concoctions along with a tempting assortment of delightful desserts. We bought gifts for friends back home. Having checked in to a lovely property on Fern Hill, we headed to Ooty Lake, where we rented a pedal boat and drifted on the water for half an hour. It was relaxing and refreshing. The sun was out and a cool breeze continued to blow.
Day 4. Violet it is. Pukarta chala hoon main…We decided to see Coonoor and Wellington, which were just 45 minutes away. After a delicious breakfast with the best sambar I’ve had in a long time, we encountered the other great love of my life – purple flowers. The Queen of the Hills was full of lilacs and hyacinths and pansies and bell flowers. There was lavender in full bloom, and petunia and wisteria and morning glory. And, salvia and aster and viola and iris.
But the jewel in the crown, the stunning showstopper was the drop-dead gorgeous Jacaranda. The Neeli Gulmohar (also known as Nupur in Hindi and Vaguvarai in Tamil) lined the slopes of Coonoor; a sight for sore eyes. A veritable feast! Ooty is also popular for the Neelakurinji flower which blooms only once in 12 years, and has admirers thronging the region to witness the spectacle. A purplish-blue blanket covers the range, giving it its name – Nil (blue) Giri (mountain) = Nilgiris – Blue Mountains. (The Kurinji last appeared in 2018).
On our way back, we stopped for coffee. The shop owner was also selling chocolate tea. We picked some up. This one was from the tea estate of the erstwhile Hindi filmstar Mumtaz (of Jai Jai Shiv Shankar fame.) Now, there was a story to tell. Before I forget, the places to see are mostly tea estates here, and tourist spots have been given intriguing names — Lamb’s Rock and Dolphin’s Nose being two of those, and then, there’s a cataract called Catherine’s Waterfalls.
I had also been reading about the Toda tribe of the Nilgiris, among the oldest Dravidian groups in south India. They are known for their embroidery work called pukhoor, made exclusively by women. Red and black threads play themselves out on a white cloth. Black indicates the Underworld, Red is for the intermediate realm of the Earth and White is symbolic of the Celestial. I had also seen their products at a recent Adivasi Mela in Delhi. The handicrafts are available at the Botanical Garden and at the Tribes India shop in the city.
Day 5 brought us the most breathtaking segment of our drives. To Wayanad. Indigo today. Ek haseen shaam ko…dil mera kho gaya. About 119 kilometers in 4 hours. Having crossed the Pykara Boat House, we went downhill on a delightful meandering road, to encounter incredibly lanky trees in the Pine Forest. There are milestones on this route, telling us that we are 2778 kilometers from Kashmir, 754 kilometers from Goa and 1770 kilometers from Gujarat. Made me smile. We were awe-struck by the reddish bark, and further at Wilson Plantation in Gudalur, there were eucalyptus trees that made my jaw drop. So tall and dignified. And, lining the highway like soldiers standing by for a guard of honour. What a visual!
Just short of Wayanad, Teji located an authentic Kerala restaurant called Olan, on the highway. He wanted to try the pothichor (rice packed in a banana leaf) – a traditional meal parcel from Kerala, which has boiled rice and stir-fried vegetables, coconut chutney, a curry, a pickle, and fried fish, all topped by an omelette. Whew! The food was finger-licking good, and they served me as many papadams as I wanted. Yayyy! In any case, I was reasonably amped up since I had reached my birth State; my father’s homeland. “God’s Own Country’’.
Day 6 dawned upon us. Dil tera diwaana hai sanam. The colour is Pink. Teji had been surfing the Net, looking for cultural activities. He mentioned En Ooru, a heritage village. We left for this site, which is, at the moment, a work in progress. Adorable mud and clay houses with thatched roofs sit atop a hill. Quite a hike to the place, and there’s a view. The downside, however, is the mismanaged process to get to that view. Long queues await site-sponsored jeeps that are the only vehicles permitted to go uphill. We had to cool our heels for 90 minutes. And, then begin the climb. Returning to base was equally botched.
Lunch was the saving grace. Not in the village. But at the very popular Wilton restaurant where the thali (full plate) is a huge hit. Kerala gave us two magnificent lunches, both very satisfying. I also got to see the abundant local products in the many Gandhigram shops dotting the highway. Various thailam (oils), ayurvedic tooth powders, khadi fabrics, cardamom honey, Nilavilakku (bronze lamp), coir mats and modas, decorative items made out of coconut shells, and the splendid ornaments of the State – Kathakali masks and the impressive Nettipattam (that which is hung on the forehead of the majestic Kerala elephant).
We moved to Mangalore via Coorg the next morning. Day 7. Red. Phir miloge kabhi, iss baat ka waada kar lo. The path was initially worn-out but around the Begur – Thirunelli Road, it started going through a minor forest area. Fallen leaves made it seem like autumn. We entered Kodagu (Coorg). The road was awful again before we crossed Murnad. It was noon. The visuals changed. Bougainvillea lined both sides of the tight path, and we got a great patch decorated with Silver Trees. We stopped to ask some locals about these trees, and were told that these Silky Oaks become orange when they age. Mangalore was 55 kilometers away.
Day 8 brought us a new personal record. We decided to visit the Mangladevi Temple (from where Mangaluru gets its name. Mangla – auspicious) before leaving for Udupi. In 90 minutes, we found ourselves at the Udupi Sri Krishna Matha founded by the Vaishnav saint Madhvacharya in the 13th century. Back-to-back temple visits had never happened to us before. I could hear percussion go off in my head — the deva vaadyam – the Mridangam. The colour is saffron. The divine instrument plays.
Nazar na lag jaaye…kisi ki raahon mein. Chhupaa ke rakh loon…Aa.. Tujhe nighaahon mein..Tu kho na jaaye…O my love! Day 9. Brown. Our last leg was Kundapura (in Udupi district) to Dabolim (Goa) – 260 kilometers. It took 5 hours. By the time the trip ended, we had sung about 300 songs that were Mohammed Rafi solos. With each song, we noticed how much care Rafi Sahab took to communicate the exact emotion of each and every word in his renditions. A playback genius. A velvet voice that is eternal. Our tribute is complete but we will continue to celebrate him and his craft.
Gala bhi khul gaya (the throat opened up) and dil khush raha (the heart remained joyous). Will we take another road trip someday soon? Undoubtedly! There is already talk of Madhya Pradesh. Or, will it be the North-East? Let’s find out…when the time comes.
Do you have a list of your own favourite Rafi songs? Would you like to mention them here? I’ll see you… when I do.
Travel and Prosper! Happy Journeys! Take care!
Sangita