Towards the Tech-City

The journey towards Bengaluru was on an overnight sleeper bus. The ghat roads do not allow for easy sleep in a moving vehicle. The night was clear after a day full of drizzles and monsoon showers. The view of the stars was beautiful. I could even see the Milky Way in its full glory. Unfortunately, I lost a few good photos that I had taken when the bus was stationary. The city greeted me with its smells as soon as I reached the outskirts. Then, I was planning my transit using the metro and private taxis, which gave me a little breather. The clouds were moving from west to east, as the monsoon was in a moderate phase.

The city was noisy and buzzing, as was its character. I visited Lalbagh with the rock associated with the name “Peninsular Gneiss” in mind. This rock is representative of the ancient crystalline basement across much of Karnataka and also occurs in the Western Ghats, blended with other rock formations.

Interestingly, this place was one of the markers used to define the boundaries of Bengaluru in Kempegowda’s time. The city has, of course, grown far beyond those boundaries now.

Apart from the botanical collection of the garden, there are also several wonders — a waterfall with a schedule, and a warning to beware of chain thieves that is slowly being eaten away by a plant.

I could take note of a few plants and trees before I had to move on. The garden felt a little dry and plain to me, as I am accustomed to tropical rainforests.

To the Foot of the Neelgiris

My plan of visiting Bengaluru had the Neelgiris as a main theme. I had not been to the Neelgiris for a long time, and not since I became interested in mountains, forests and biodiversity. It was a perfect occasion for me to explore a new biome and put my intuitions to the test. The road to the Neelgiris first takes us through the unending traffic jams and jellies of Bengaluru, before arriving at the expressway to Mysuru. We pass through Srirangapatna, a historic seat of the Mysore kingdom and an island in the Kaveri River.

We enter Mysuru and exit it in no time. Chamundi Betta accompanies us for some time, before becoming a small feature on the horizon and disappearing. I could not capture any photos of the betta, as I was sitting on the wrong side of the bus. However, I got a good view of it with the Kabini River at Nanjangud.

As I moved beyond Gundlupet and entered Bandipur National Park, the rains greeted me, clouding the bus window. The comfort of an AC bus soon became a jail for photography! However, I could still get some decent photos of the dry deciduous forest, now green with the monsoon rains.

The sight of deer, Indian bison (gaur; kaati), and elephants is not uncommon in the forest, though I missed photographing most of them, as the window was not comfortable enough to see what was coming up.

Soon, we cross the state border into Tamil Nadu and enter the Neelgiris district. The Neelgiris themselves are visible behind the smaller hills, shrouded in clouds that day.

We also get to sight the Moyar River, which originates in the Neelgiris and carves a valley that forms part of the border between Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, before joining the Bhavani River, a tributary of the Kaveri.

At this point, there are two ghat roads to ascend into the Neelgiris — one via Kallatti and another via Gudalur. For our journey, only the Gudalur ghat was available to out-of-state vehicles.

Gudalur is located on the lower western side of the Neelgiris and sits at an elevation of roughly 900–1,100 m, giving me a feel of back home with its coffee plantations and monsoon cicadas.

There was a waterfall cascading down from the upper Neelgiris, eventually joining the Moyar River.

Up the Ghats

From Gudalur, the ascent into the ghats begins. There are several hairpin bends, offering views of the places below from both the left and right windows.

Approximately halfway through the ghats, we get to see a beautiful pointed rock forming the backdrop to tea plantations and remaining prominently in view. This rock is aptly called “Needle Rock.”

As we gain some elevation, we can make out the town of Gudalur that we left behind. The lower shola–grassland hills make a nice backdrop.

The descent of the mountains towards Gudalur also makes for an interesting view.

As we continue, several Eucalyptus plantations start blocking the rest of our view. The trees are planted on land that once hosted native shola–grassland vegetation. This theme of grasslands being converted to other uses continues throughout our journey through the Neelgiris.

In no time, we reach Naduvattam (apparently derived from the Kannada Nadu-betta, “the middle hill”) — a place where the ascent ends. Naduvattam has an interesting historical connection with the Chinese, which is a story for another time, when I explore it further.

As we continue, the character of the route changes from a steady ascent to rolling hills. These hills are now mostly covered with tea plantations, with very little of the native shola–grassland character preserved.

By the time I reached Ooty, it was already dark and misty. We had planned the next day for rest and some random exploration before the important trek. So rest it was. The weather was cold — perfect for sleep.

Roaming Around

We were staying at a residence located on a slope of Elk Hill, just outside Ooty. The hill appears to have got its name from the old British usage of “elk” for the local sambar deer, as noted by Edgar Thurston in The Madras Presidency with Mysore, Coorg and the Associated States. The stay had a beautiful view of the flanks of Doddabetta (2,637 m), the highest mountain in the Neelgiris. Although the clouds obscured Doddabetta itself, we could see its rocky flanks with the tea plantations.

As we moved out of our stay and started to climb, we got to observe numerous flowers that we were not accustomed to. They looked beautiful, but we soon learned that many were introduced plants, some brought during British rule and now spreading through the shola–grassland landscape as weeds. One of the most recognizable of these is Scotch broom, Cytisus scoparius, with its long green branches, small leaves, and unmistakable pea-like flowers characteristic of the Fabaceae family.

Another noticeable invasive plant that is widespread across the Neelgiris is Cestrum aurantiacum, with its bright yellow flowers and bush-forming habit.

Cestrum belongs to the nightshade family, Solanaceae. There was another introduced plant from the same family, Solanum mauritianum, which was widespread and occupied similar niches.

While these plants occupy the ground and shrub layers, a plant of the passionfruit family, Passifloraceae, Passiflora tripartita var. mollissima (formerly Passiflora mollissima), climbs over the trees.

The velvety-looking flowers of Mexican bush sage, Salvia leucantha, are attractive to humans and bees alike.

The flowers of Mexican fleabane, Erigeron karvinskianus, are attractive both when fresh and as they begin to wilt.

These plants are quite adaptable and can be found growing almost everywhere.

We also saw a dandelion (Taraxacum, Asteraceae) seed head, ready to disperse its seeds at any moment.

Seeing flowers, young fruits, and mature fruits together on a single raceme of Phytolacca octandra was interesting. There is also an IndiaTreePix discussion of the species.

There was a native fern growing among the weeds. It was a little dried out due to the lack of rain.

We also found a native lily, Lilium wallichianum var. neilgherrense, which had not flowered yet.

The introduced species do not end with the flowering shrubs. Many Eucalyptus and Pinus species, along with other exotics. The sight of pine cones was quite new to us.

We also got to see a grove of massive pine trees near Fern Hill Circle. The area is notable for Fernhills Palace, which served as the summer palace of the Maharajas of Mysore and now functions as a heritage hotel.

Among the non-pine trees, the bottlebrush (Callistemon sp.) stood out for its distinctive flowers.

As we climbed a little higher, the mountain range containing the destination of our planned trek became visible to the southwest, with some of the peaks covered in clouds.

As we walked towards Fern Hill, we could see some mountains to the northeast. They were not as jagged as the mountains to the southwest that we had seen earlier.

We could also see the eastern edge of the Neelgiris, which lay at a noticeably lower elevation.

Ooty’s dwellings are built densely on the hillside. They are often interspersed with tea plantations, creating a rich, colorful contrast in the landscape.

One such house had a “Sri Om” inauguration inscription written in Kannada, with the year noted as 1954. Ooty has a multicultural, multilingual, and multi-ethnic population, owing to its tribal, colonial, and plantation history, making for a culturally diverse society. We also later learned about a Chinese element in its history, including in Naduvattam and central Ooty.

While we were roaming, we saw a lizard emerge from a hole in the ground. It was likely a Nilgiri salea, Salea horsfieldii, which is capable of rapid color change — a trait that may also aid camouflage (Abinesh & Vishnu, 2022).

The day we chose to explore was a little drizzly, although we did not need a proper umbrella. The drizzle exposed the layers of the hills beautifully.

The Garden

The Botanical Garden hosts a collection of native and exotic plants and is a popular tourist attraction. It is also historically important, though I will likely cover that in a future article. We were greeted by the landmark floral lettering at the entrance.

The garden already felt quite different from Lalbagh — lush green, undulating, and with mountains in the background, a landscape closer to my heart.

Owing to Ooty’s cool, moist climate, the moss growing on the tree trunks was quite noticeable.

The pine trees were tall and imposing, like the ones we had seen earlier.

A Leptospermum polygalifolium shrub, native to Australia, had a nameplate mentioning that it was planted in 1950, offering a glimpse of its growth over the decades.

One of the big attractions was the dragon tree, Dracaena draco. You might remember seeing another Dracaena, D. terniflora, in one of my earlier posts. This one, however, was a large tree, recognizable from a distance. Its maroon-colored leaves appear to be natural in this specimen rather than a seasonal effect, as noted in an eFlora of India discussion of the Ooty plant.

The trees of Cordyline indivisa had a form similar to that of Dracaena draco and were in flower.

It rained while we were in the garden, forcing us to take shelter in the glass houses where plants were kept. One of the glass houses contained a collection of ferns, with a nameboard dating its foundation to 1894.

Another glass house contained a collection of small flowering plants, with a notable orchid hanging overhead.

The staff quarters, nestled among the greenery and showcasing the local architecture, were picturesque.

The tree fossil inside the Botanical Garden confused me a little, making me wonder whether the Neelgiris were younger than I had understood. However, it turned out that the fossil had been brought from the National Fossil Wood Park at Tiruvakkarai, in Villupuram district, where the fossil-bearing Cuddalore Sandstone is much younger — of Mio-Pliocene age, around 20 million years old. The fossil displayed in the Ooty Botanical Garden was presented by the Geological Survey of India from this site.

The rain intensified later, limiting our exploration. It was the heaviest rain we saw during our stay in Ooty. Rainfall had otherwise been lower than usual that year, with El Niño conditions likely contributing to the deficit.

A First Taste of the Neelgiri Sholas

We headed towards Doddabetta (2,637 m), the tallest peak in the Neelgiris. The route was beautiful, as it had just rained.

As we were about to enter the gate at Doddabetta, the guard stopped us, as we were 10 minutes past 5 PM, the last entry time. The road ahead was shrouded in mist and beautiful — pine trees on one side and native shola trees on the other.

Next, we started exploring randomly and found ourselves in a Eucalyptus plantation. As we continued, the vegetation became more shola-like, with stunted, highly branched trees.

There was an exposed rock face consisting of charnockite, one of the characteristic rocks of the Neelgiris. The rock was named by geologist T. H. Holland after Job Charnock, whose tombstone in Kolkata was made from charnockite. The rock face had been quarried, with a small pond at its foot.

As we moved farther away from the plantation, the shola character became more pronounced.

We also found a bright and attractive fungus growing on the leaf litter.

The introduced Mexican bush sage has found its way into the sholas as well!

As we headed back, it was growing dark, and the city lights were beginning to come on.

It was still cloudy, but there was no threat of rain.

We were expecting the next day to be clear and free of rain, and hoped that our trek to Kolaribetta (2,630 m), the second-highest peak in the Neelgiris, would offer good views.

Mukurti and Her Cousins

When I was researching places to visit in the Neelgiris, a particular mountain named Mukurti caught my eye because of its name and shape. Its name rhymes with “Merti,” the Top Mountain, and its shape is interesting as well.

On the origin of the name “Mukurti,” the following passages narrate an interesting story from H. B. Grigg’s A Manual of the Nílagiri District in the Madras Presidency, published in 1880.

The Western Gháts, meanwhile, after almost touching the coast line in North Malabar, trend to the south-east, becoming more precipitous and broken in character as they proceed, until at last they culminate at two lofty points, known as Nílagiri² and Múkartébetta³ Peaks, the latter the Teneriffe of Southern India.

The footnotes read:

² Sometimes called Ellémalé, the boundary hill, from ellei, boundary, frontier, and malei, a hill.

³ The spelling above adopted is in accordance with Badaga pronunciation. The word seems to be a compound of múk, nose, ar or aru, cut, and the suffix té, signifying the feminine gender.—aruthal, “she who was cut,” has been changed into ar’té. Mr. Stokes of Kaity inclines to this derivation, which is the basis of the Badaga tradition. This tradition, on the authority of a Badaga catechist, he gives as follows:—A woman came to this spot, where her nose was cut off by some one. Disgraced, she turned herself into a mountain, and thus acquired the honors of a goddess, and formed the three streams which flow at her feet in different directions, afterwards uniting into one river. The first stream year by year washes down an elephant and says to her sister streams, “I have brought an elephant from the hills”; the second washes down a buffalo, and proclaims the fact to her sisters likewise; the third brings down a man and repeats the same tale. Another derivation connects the word with maha, great, and kúr (Drav.), a sharp point. The popular pronunciation militates against this suggestion. In Badaga ballads, “From Múkarté to Molemava” (a fabulous tree on the eastern extremity of the Hills) is the phrase equivalent to our “From Land’s End to John o’Groat’s.”

The phrase “From Land’s End to John o’Groat’s” is akin to āsetuhimācalam (“from Setu to Himachala”) for modern India, indicating the geographical extent of the land. I had seen Mukurti from Doddabetta during my previous visit. This time, a side quest of mine was to sight and photograph Mukurti.

To do that, I researched and booked a trek in the western Neelgiris, to Kolaribetta. Kolaribetta (2,630 m) is the second-highest mountain in the Neelgiris after Doddabetta. While Doddabetta has become touristy, Kolaribetta is far from the city and much calmer.

En Route to Kolaribetta

The route to Kolaribetta passes through the familiar landscape of tea plantations, isolated settlements, and occasional views of the larger ranges. We could see the proper shola mountains in the distance along the route. Fortunately, the day was completely clear and cloudless.

We could also see our destination, clearly marked by an abandoned research station and a signal tower at the top.

As we got closer to our destination, we were greeted by the native shola forest, which was a welcome change from the tea plantations.

The landscape felt so familiar to me that it evoked the feeling of home I associate with Kuduremukha National Park.

Of course, introduced species have made their way here as well. We saw a pine grove at the base, which apparently was planted recently.

We were joined on the trek by a fellow naturalist, who was excited to have spotted and photographed a Nilgiri Thrush, Zoothera neilgherriensis, as the species is usually elusive.

The naturalist also helped us spot and listen to other birds in a nearby shola stream.

Otherwise, we might have noticed only the calm and picturesque nature of the stream!

The trek started with the sight of a waterfall, which would have been grander if not for the low rainfall.

The shola forest on the wind-sheltered slope of the mountain was magical, with the tree crowns remaining distinct from one another and resembling heads of cauliflower — giving rise to the popular name “Cauliflower Shola.”

I was excited to see Curculigo orchioides, which I had covered earlier in Summer Flowers.

Our naturalist soon drew our attention to a carnivorous plant, Drosera peltata, growing nearby. I did not even know that such plants existed in the Western Ghats!

As soon as we entered the shola, we were greeted by a variety of flowers.

We could see the common features of tropical rainforests — mosses, ferns, and lichens.

There were orchids, of course — with what was likely Oberonia verticillata in flower and particularly mesmerizing.

The Oberonia leaves hanging from the tree branch gave the illusion of multiple hands emerging from the branch!

There were plenty of lichens resembling old man’s beard (Usnea), and I sometimes mistook them for flowers on distant plants.

We found an interesting root system of a shola tree exposed in a roadcut, showing how densely the roots bind the soil.

The hemiparasitic mistletoe Dendrophthoe falcata, of the family Loranthaceae, had found its way into these high-elevation forests as well.

The shola forest soon opened into a grassland, and the transition itself was spectacular.

We soon realized that the grassland had been overtaken by introduced black wattle, Acacia mearnsii, which has now become invasive. These trees are being removed, with native grasses and other grassland plants being planted in their place.

A stream running through the vast grassland was very serene.

The appearance of fine, black soil around the stream made me think that it might be a peat bog. Peat deposits in the Neelgiris have been studied as valuable archives for reconstructing past climate.

Part of the trek followed a motorable road that was now overgrown with plants, making the trek relatively easy.

One of the first attractions en route was the conical summit of Devarbetta (about 2,500 m), with a small temple at the top.

The peak of Anginda (2,383 m), located on the Kerala–Tamil Nadu border, was visible for some time before being covered by clouds.

Looking back, we could see the valley we had come from.

The backwaters of the Upper Bhavani Reservoir added a nice contrast to the green grasslands.

We saw waterfalls on the nearby mountains, although they were not in full force.

The mountains are full of landslide scars caused by heavy rainfall and steep topography. The name “Avalanche” itself is said to have originated from a major landslide in the area in the early nineteenth century. Today, the word “avalanche” is usually associated with masses of snow, ice, and rock rushing down a mountain, while “landslide” is the more common term for the movement of soil and rock.

As we neared the peak, mist started obstructing the view.

We could not see anything to the west because of the clouds. Ideally, the high mountains beyond Wayanad — Vavul Mala and Chembra Peak — should have been visible.

Even the valley where we had started the trek became covered in clouds, creating a striking contrast between what was visible and what was obscured.

We spent some time on the peak, watching the clouds, resting, and roaming around.

Plants of Montane Grassland

We kept our trek deliberately slow, observing and understanding everything en route, greatly guided by our fellow naturalist. The highlight of our observations was the sighting of a single flower of the Nilgiri rhododendron, Rhododendron arboreum subsp. nilagiricum. Flowering in August was particularly unusual, as it was well outside its commonly reported flowering season.

In the words of our fellow naturalist, from their Instagram post:

Some moments in nature feel less like coincidence and more like a quiet answer.

As I was walking down the hill, I found myself explaining to a stranger about the rhododendron — its beautiful flowers, and how its usual flowering season is between November and March. He was curious. What does the flower look like?

We continued walking.

And then, almost as if Mother Nature had been listening, there it was.

Of the 100s of rhododendron trees.
Just this one tree.

And on it — just ONE solitary bloom.

One bright flower, completely unexpected, standing against the vast Nilgiri landscape.

We stopped. We looked. And for a moment, there really wasn’t anything to say.

It felt like nature had answered his question herself.

Perhaps that is what makes walking in the hills so special. You set out looking at the landscape, but every now and then, the landscape looks back at you — with a little sign, a little surprise, a little magic.

A question asked.
A flower offered.
A divine little moment from Mother Nature.

The young leaves and buds of the rhododendron were beautiful as well.

The succulent Kalanchoe grandiflora felt out of place in the Western Ghats, but it is actually native to the region.

The Neelgiri anaphalis, Anaphalis neelgerryana, was highly attractive, with its many flowers and interesting leaves.

Fungi growing on elephant dung were quite common throughout the trek.

The flowers of Eriocaulon, of the family Eriocaulaceae, were attractive, with their whitish flower heads contrasting against the dark bracts at their base. We had seen similar flowers during our exploration of “Electric Mountains”, near Mudigere.

We found a different carnivorous plant in the grasslands — Drosera burmanni — which has a ground-hugging rosette growth habit, unlike the more erect stems of Drosera peltata that we had found earlier.

There was only one edible fruit to satisfy our hunger — a wild raspberry, Rubus rugosus subsp. thwaitesii.

We found a kuranji (Strobilanthes sp.), of course. But it was not the famous Neelkuranji; rather, it was Strobilanthes wightiana, commonly called Pale Kurinji. I plan to write an article about the kuranji mania spreading on Instagram and the diversity of kuranjis in Karnataka.

Looking for Faraway Mountains

Our return journey from Kolaribetta took us along the same route, although it had become cloudier, with occasional drops of rain.

The combination of clouds and sunlight created perfect patches of light on the mountains.

As we moved northeast towards Ooty, the clouds gave way to sunshine, while the peaks remained covered in clouds.

We ended our day with a view over Ketti Valley, with clouds rolling in, from a slope of Doddabetta.

We returned for the same view the next morning with our fellow naturalist, this time climbing a little way up a spur of Doddabetta. The spur itself offered a grand view of a rocky outcrop.

Cloud-covered valleys and sunlit hills of the Neelgiris looked particularly heavenly.

The flat-topped mountain of Perumal Mudi (about 1,594 m), in Coimbatore district, was particularly attractive.

From a nearby viewpoint, the view of Pakkasuran Malai (1,918 m) was striking — it looked as if the demon Bakasura were sleeping!

Doddabetta itself was covered in mist, but its rocky spurs were clearly visible.

In the distance, the plains of Coimbatore were visible, along with the distant hills towards Kodaikanal and Munnar. I was hoping to capture Anamudi (2,695 m) — the highest peak in South India — from here, though it was a long shot on a monsoon day!

The road signs pointed towards Coimbatore in a direction different from the straight-line bearing — a common mountain-route scenario!

To the west, it was drizzling, as usual, and we could see a beautiful section of a rainbow.

Thanks to our fellow naturalist, we were also fortunate to view the same valley from inside a tea plantation.

On our way back, we caught sight of a train on the Nilgiri Mountain Railway, constructed during British rule and completed in 1908. In 2005, it was added to UNESCO’s Mountain Railways of India World Heritage Site.

In a nearby tea plantation, we saw workers and gaur (Bos gaurus) together, with neither seeming concerned about the presence of the other. However, human–gaur conflict remains a reality in parts of Karnataka’s Malnad region, where close encounters can still lead to dangerous situations.

Later, we visited the touristy peak of Doddabetta, which was crowded and offered no views. However, en route, we could capture clouds rolling in towards the mountains.

The clouds were just clear enough to reveal a view of Ooty town.

We could see the Coimbatore plains, which we had seen that morning, in a little more detail.

Another advantage of the visit was that we could photograph the flowers of Mahonia leschenaultii, a member of the family Berberidaceae.

We had found this plant attractive for its spiny leaflets while trekking. From the leaf arrangement, I had mistaken it for a possible member of the legume family, Fabaceae.

Afforestation and Restoration

We saw stands of pine and acacia spreading invasively through the shola–grassland landscape. These exotic trees were introduced to the Neelgiris to “reforest” what was regarded as a “degraded ecosystem” — an interesting choice of words for replacing a native grassland ecosystem with exotic trees.

From H. B. Grigg’s A Manual of the Nílagiri District in the Madras Presidency, published in 1880:

These (Shola forests) make a pleasing contrast with the almost universally rounded forms of the primeval forest, only here and there relieved by the white stems, spreading branches, and flattened tops of a few of the indigenous trees.

Long, however, before Europeans reached the Hills, the process of the destruction of the woodlands had been going on in the tracts occupied by the Badagas, on the slopes of the Doddabetta range, the western alone excepted.

There can be little question that these tracts, which are now given up almost wholly to the plough or hoe, were once covered with dense jungle, except the more stony ridges and heights.

This is evidenced by the numerous shola trees, single or in groups of two or three, standing generally near a rock or stream, which have owed their escape from the general destruction to the superstitious fears of the people, who regard them as the homes of the unseen genii of the place.

The frequent occurrence of the suffix Kād, jungle or forest, in names of localities, where now hardly a tree is to be found, is an additional proof of this assertion, as is also the character of the soil, which is well suited to carry heavy timber.

There has been some speculation as to whether the grassy downs and hollows lying to the west of Doddabetta were ever covered with forest, which has been cleared away for cultivation or pasture.

This, however, is very improbable, as the character of the soil, with its thick subjacent layer of cold gravelly clay, has doubtless been hostile to the growth of large vegetation, but at the same time it is probable that some of the protected valleys, which have long been relinquished to the herds of the Todas, were at some earlier era cultivated.

This hypothesis rests mainly on the facts that some of the sholas do not bear the marks of great antiquity, whilst the lands of the valleys are often smooth and even, as if the surface had once been levelled by the plough.

It is, however, to be remembered that the present park-like appearance of the higher plateau, with its downs and woodlands, is also, in a great measure, due to the annual recurrence of fires which sweep over the hills, burning the grass and outlying scrub and even the smaller sholas, and checking the larger woods in their persistent efforts to extend their domain further along the sides of the valleys.

And regarding the introduced trees,

The Forest Department have planted several hundred acres of Eucalyptus globulus, the blue-gum of Tasmania, and there are also extensive plantations of Acacia melanoxylon and dealbata. They are all excellent firewood, and, in the event of a railway being made up the ghats, plantations of this sort will be very profitable, the growth being exceedingly rapid and the yield per acre very large (probably not less than 25 tons per annum from Eucalyptus globulus and 15 tons from Acacia dealbata).

Oranges, apples, peaches, and pears grow well at Coonoor and Kalhatti; pears succeed also in the colder and damper climate of Ootacamand, where walnuts thrive and fruit well. Strawberries and raspberries grow and fruit, but do not answer very well except with constant attention to the supply of liquid manure and water.

The mindset of treating grasslands as degraded forests continued into the post-colonial period as well. In the recent past, however, there have been efforts to move away from this mindset, recognize grasslands and sholas as a unique native montane ecosystem, and help restore them.

A comparison of historical and present-day images of the historic St. Stephen’s Church in Ooty reveals the loss of surrounding grassland in a dramatic way.

• 1834 — C. F. Le Hardy, “Sketched from Nature: St. Stephen’s Church,” in Robert Baikie’s Observations on the Neilgherries, published in 1834.

• c. 1875–1905 — A. T. W. Penn, photograph from an album of Ootacamund and the Nilgiri Hills, reproduced in this Dominic Winter Auctioneers listing.

• Today — photograph from our visit.

Our fellow naturalist introduced us to Godwin Vasanth Bosco of the Upstream Ecology Foundation, which is doing great work conserving and propagating native grassland plants and shola trees, and helping restore the shola–grassland ecosystem. As soon as we entered their premises, we were welcomed by a large copper kuranji shrub, Strobilanthes lawsonii.

We also got to observe Neelkurinji, Strobilanthes kunthiana, in detail, and can now distinguish it more clearly from other kuranjis.

There was another kuranji, Strobilanthes foliosa, that had flowered.

They have a good collection of ferns, with the tree fern towering majestically over the rest!

It was good to see a large terrestrial orchid, Calanthe masuca, in flower. I was familiar with other terrestrial orchids, such as Malaxis, but this orchid was much larger than those.

They also conserve a variety of grass species, some of which were flowering.

We found one more Impatiens, Impatiens leschenaultii, being grown in the nursery.

There was also Kalanchoe grandiflora in the nursery, which we had seen earlier during the trek.

The flowers of Rhodomyrtus tomentosa var. parviflora looked superficially similar to those of a rhododendron.

The yellow flowers of the native Fabaceae shrub Crotalaria barbata were a welcome sight after the similar-looking foliage of invasive Scotch broom, Cytisus scoparius.

There was also an introduced walnut tree, Juglans regia, on the premises, bearing a bunch of fruits. With the help of the locals, we got to enjoy the kernels.

We could not explore their entire collection due to a shortage of time, as we had to begin our return journey.

Ending Notes

The exploration of the Neelgiris taught me how important and vulnerable shola ecosystems are, and how invasive species can take over local ecosystems. Thanks to our fellow naturalist, we could understand and experience the ecosystem more deeply. I also got to explore some colonial records in greater depth, though I have only scratched the surface. For a tour through the colonial archives of Coorg and Malnad, you can read my other articles:

The Neelgiris were also a cool haven for us, as they had been for the British during the colonial period. El Niño conditions may also have contributed to the lower rainfall and reduced water levels we observed in the Neelgiris, as in many other places. We left the Neelgiris with a sense of awe and respect, and an urge to explore more in the coming days. If you haven’t already, subscribe to my blog to keep in touch!

I also realized that Bengaluru is not for me, and I am not for Bengaluru. I would be happier working remotely, embedded in the mountains, running businesses, planting and processing coffee, and understanding, exploring, and sometimes protecting nature. If you are someone who feels the same and would like to share that journey — let’s talk!

Further Reading

Books

H. B. Grigg, A Manual of the Nílagiri District in the Madras Presidency (1880) — a detailed colonial-era account of the Neelgiris, including observations on sholas, grasslands, fire, cultivation, and the introduction of exotic tree plantations.

Robert Baikie, Observations on the Neilgherries (1834) — an early account of the Neelgiris, with descriptions and illustrations of their landscapes during the nineteenth century.

Edgar Thurston, The Madras Presidency with Mysore, Coorg and the Associated States — a broader historical account that also provides useful context for the Neelgiris.

Videos

Untangling the Mystery of the Shola Grassland-Forest Mosaics of Southern India — Jayashree Ratnam — a useful introduction to why the high-elevation grasslands and shola forests of southern India form a distinct ecological mosaic, rather than the grasslands simply being degraded forests.

Save Our Shola Grasslands — a short introduction to the montane shola–grassland landscapes of the Western Ghats, their ecological importance, and the need for their conservation.

Just before the rains

This year’s summer rains were also subdued, hinting at what was to come in the monsoon. However, after the burning of shola grasslands, any amount of significant rain is sufficient to revive them with their full greenery and wildflowers. We visited the “Top Mountain” again at the end of May.

En route, we were greeted with a beautiful Fagraea flower, with its mature plant spreading roots over a boulder.

While the greens were welcoming, the haze was very high, limiting our views to only the nearby hills.

The sight of the grass growing radially outwards from the burnt stump was interesting.

The monsoon winds were still not in, and the convection started creating cumulus clouds and mist that soon blocked our view.

The formation of clouds was interesting to see in a timelapse, with mountains seemingly acting as a barrier. Timelapse credit to @shubhashreehebbar!

There were no lack of wildflowers on the shola grassland.

It rained later in the day. Although the low clouds had the directionality of nearly west to nearly east, it was no monsoon. It was convectional summer rains.

June in — no rains

June started with an anticipation of the arrival of the monsoon. Although it arrived, it was very weak, with the days being a mix of sunny and drizzling rains—a mix that is perfect for rainbows!

The same rains caused the abundance of mangoes and wild jamun fruits to end. Few people suspected that stress-induced flowering was signaling an upcoming drought.

Life continues to cycle with whatever limited resources it has. The mushroom bloom continued, fueled by rains and sun.

We witnessed the flowering of several orchids, including me observing Vanda thwaitesii flowers for the first time.

Nervilia crociformis was a first-time observation too, with its beautiful, fragile flowers lasting for a day, closing in the evening and then fading away.

Rhynchostylis retusa was attractive as usual, with its charming flower arrangement.

With rains, several underground rhizomatous plants put on shoots and flowers. The snake-resembling flower of Arisaema is a wonderful sighting on the forest floor.

It is the time when several plants fruit, providing food for wildlife in an otherwise tough situation.

Rains continued to be a bit hit or miss, with some days being completely sunny!

Some other days had a touch of good rain.

The First Spell

The timing of the first spell coincided with my travels to the Mysore plains, located in the rain shadow area of the monsoon, making me miss much of it. However, wherever I went, I could see the perfect movement of clouds from west to east, as is typical during the monsoon. In fact, you won’t need a compass to tell the directions at all!

I could not travel on my usual mountainous route due to local transport being overwhelmed with freebies and my being on schedule. However, the other route offered a view of cloud-capped “Top Mountain” from afar.

The deciduous forest-side ranges of the Chandradrona Mountains were also very green.

The rains accompanied me to the plains as well, though not as intense as they would have been in the ghats. The stark difference, however, was the wind speed. The plains experience windy days during the monsoon, whereas many places in the ghats are protected from the winds by the mountains.

The drizzles continued in Mysore as well, with the low clouds lit by city lights, making them visible with a yellow hue at night.

The next day was mostly free of rain, but still with fast-moving clouds.

Clouds forming and moving, and the grass moving in waves with the clouds, created a meditative experience.

After spending a day in Mysore, I wanted to take revenge for the mountains I missed, and decided to head towards Gonikoppa of Coorg, to visit a friend there. Throughout the route, there was little sign of rain, causing me to wonder if the spell was already over when it started.

When I entered the familiar landscape of hills, mountains and coffee plantations, the sky was completely clear of clouds! At least, the roads were wet from several splashes and the weather was chilling.

Next day, everything changed quite dramatically as we headed towards Madikeri, which is located at the edge of the ghats. We were greeted with loads of rolling mist, huge raindrops and crazy winds.

We went to the familiar viewpoint to gaze at Kotebetta, however we could only see its foothills.

The famous waterfall of Abbi had come to life, though not to its fullest.

The rain intensified as I prepared to return to Hassan, heading toward my home. The rains continued to accompany me in the plains too, though with reduced intensity.

I was stuck at Hassan due to the unavailability of transport to reach my home. I decided to head towards the mountains one more time — to Sakaleshapura. The rains picked up along the way, and I stayed the night there. On the morning back to Mudigere, it was rainy everywhere.

The river Hemavati, which is a tributary of the lifeline Kaveri, was swollen, though not flooded.

Rains greeted me as I entered my home, but they reduced the very next day!

Initiating Coffee Planting

The end of July is perfect to start planting coffee, as the soil has adequate moisture content to support plant growth, and a few continued spells ensure that the young plants are not exposed to the harsh sunlight. We went to a nursery that was located at the foothills of the Chandradrona range of Chikkamagaluru to purchase the plants.

The place we went to had a great view of a granite cliff, which was breathing mist.

The nursery was itself situated inside a plantation, which had a beautiful lake.

The process of marking grids to space coffee rows starts with bamboo stakes, which are first used to mark the spots.

Once the plants are planted, these stakes are then cut to support the plant during its new growth.

We have planted 1100+ Chandragiri + Hemavati varieties of Coffea arabica. Along with them, we have planted several Garcinia fruiting plants and local native trees for the shade. Stay subscribed to updates on how they grow up!

The Second Spell

While we are in the process of planting coffee, the second spell of monsoon arrived. Although it did not rain as much as the first one, it sure flooded, since the soil was close to being saturated. Several seasonal streams burst into action out of nowhere.

I got a chance to visit the coast of South Canara immediately after the spell for a relationship talk, which turned sour and bitter very quickly. However, I got to see the streams running in their full flow. The streams are small in size in the ghats, as they are close to their origin, but vigorous nonetheless.

The mountains are especially beautiful after these spells, with mist hanging in the valleys and the clouds covering the mountain bottoms.

The mist rising on one side of a mountain gets stuck if it is pushed back by prevailing monsoon winds, creating a lock-in effect that created a beautiful effect in the case of a mountain at the edge of the Western Ghats.

Activity in the rice fields located in the valleys starts as they get prepared to be planted.

The trimmed shade trees in the Coffea canephora (Robusta) plantations allow the mountain views to pass through, while they appear as sticks.

Mist revealing the layers of the mountains is a sight to behold.

It seems like even animals and birds want to enjoy the views!

I had to descend the ghats through Charmadi Ghat, as our shorter route through the Kuduremukha National Park was blocked due to a stream overflowing. However, due to the crowds, I could not get a chance to take a photo of the route, which was alive with lots of waterfalls and hanging mist.

As soon as I descended the ghats, the vibes changed — with an increase in temperature and in the sizes of the streams. The rivers and streams that were flooded the previous days were slowly calming down.

The inselberg of Gadayikallu was barely visible, covered with clouds.

Now I was traveling in the same direction as if I would have travelled through the Kuduremukha National Park. I got to see a constant view of those mountains in the backdrop, with rivers sometimes, and life at other times.

At Karkala, I visited the Gommata statue atop a granite hill with a friend, and put my understanding of the clouds moving from east to west to the test. Along the route, I had observed the clouds not following the direction that I understood, and the compass app did more to increase my confusion. The time-lapse I took had clouds moving from north to south! A little research later confirmed that the wind direction is variable at lower altitudes, affected by the sea and differential heating. However, at higher altitudes, winds have a more organized nature. At the ghats and above, we get to only see the higher-level flows, which are usually westerly.

We got to see the wild Ixora flowers in bloom atop the rock. The biome atop the rock is very dry during the winter and summer. Life springs back there in monsoon with the abundance of water and moisture.

The Plumeria tree beside the temple is a remarkable specimen.

The view of the surrounding landscape was limited in visibility, with us unable even to see the Western Ghats of Kuduremukha National Park. However, the view of the immediate neighborhood was beautiful and full of greenery.

It got very dark during my return journey after the stream had reduced, and I could not take any further mountain pictures, calling it the end of the day.

Looking into the future

The rain deficit this year is real, and water conflicts are being foreshadowed. However, the spells have ensured that the core aquifers have been filled up. El Niño means warmer-than-usual winters and summers — which we have to be prepared for. So far, our rainfall numbers look on par with 2023, which was also an El Niño year, with 83” of rainfall compared to the usual 120”-130”. (Thanks to @vivek_gowda20 for the data!) The places on the coast and at the edge of the ghats have fared better, but face the same deficit percentage-wise. (Yeah, we measure rainfall in inches, a relic from colonial era, and mm is too much for us!)

I am also looking forward to seeing the progress of the coffee plantation, along with the fruit and shade trees. And regarding the relationship note earlier — if you are someone, or know someone, who enjoys mountains and natural ecosystems as much as I do, and wants to build a lifestyle around nature, organic farming, Fukuoka-inspired experiments, remote work and local entrepreneurship, feel free to get in touch with me — let’s talk! It is time for India to move beyond traditional horoscope filters and be a little more broad-minded!

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As described in the last article, the trigger for many wild flowers during the summers of the Western Ghats is usually the summer rains. Many rhizomatous plants emerge from the ground, usually accompanied by flowers. Some plants, otherwise blended into the greenery, completely cover themselves with flowers, making them distinguishable. In this article, we shall go through some of the wildflowers, and some backstories associated with them.

The Curcuma

The otherwise dried, brown mountain shola grasslands are dotted with yellow and white flowers a few days after the first summer rain. These are the flowers of the Curcuma species, with yellow flowers likely belonging to Curcuma karnatakensis.

Some Curcuma species, including common turmeric (Curcuma longa) and black turmeric (Curcuma caesia) have a long flowering bract that hosts multiple flowers. The bract itself is as attractive as the flower.

Once they flower, the leaves of the plant start to appear, in the usual style of the coiled leaves unfolding in a beautiful spiral. Due to the spiral leaves, the plant is also called “Suruli Gida” locally, meaning the coil plant.

The leaves are in full force during the Monsoon, at the end of which, the plant flowers for the second round, before finally wilting down in the winter.

Ground Coconut

The yellow dots amongst the dried grass mentioned earlier are also contributed by the starry flowers of Curculigo orchioides. They follow a similar flowering cycle as Curcuma — flowers, leaves, and flowers again before wilting. Their leaves superficially resemble those of the coconut — hence the name “Ground coconut”.

I’ve seen a few varieties of this species, one with hairy leaves and flowers, another with pale-yellow flowers.

Members of Melastomataceae

Some grassland hills of the Western Ghats were subject to afforestation with the introduced Acacia mangium trees — due to the colonial-era mindset of grasslands being wasteland, and to harvest these trees for timber later.

The introduced trees have gained a foothold and are now spreading naturally. As a side-effect, these trees changed the soil composition, allowing some native forest trees to grow under their shade.

The sequence of succession starts with trees and shrubs of pioneer species, nurturing the seedlings of the native forest trees. Once the native trees gain a foothold, they will shade these pioneer trees, forcing them out. The shrub Melastoma malabathricum is one such pioneer, and puts up attractive pink flowers during summer.

A miniature version of these flowers, of the plant Osbeckia aspera, belonging to the same family is also found during the summer. The plant is not as shrubby as the earlier mentioned Melastoma malabathricum.

There is a member of Melastomataceae, Memecylon umbellatum that has a completely different look from the plants that we saw earlier. Its small flowers completely cover its stem with shades of blue, making it very pleasant to look at. If you zoom in closely, you can see some flower buds closed, some open. In the below video, you can see its flowers covering the middle story of the forest.

The adaptive nature of the many members of Melastomataceae can make them successful invaders outside their native habitat. While researching for this article, I came across the plant Miconia calvescens, a native of Mexico, with its beautiful big velvet leaves, which has become an invasive species across the tropical forests of Hawaii, Australia and even Sri Lanka! I found a video of its eradication efforts in Queensland, Australia.

The Thorny Invader

While we are on the topic of invasive plant species, we cannot ignore the species Lantana camara, a native of the American tropics. Originally prized for their colorful and attractive flowers, they soon escaped from the gardens and spread to the wild elsewhere.

Today, they are found almost everywhere in the wild habitats of India, and have the potential to completely take over barren farmlands and grazing fields. There are several initiatives that encourage the locals to use this plant as firewood and as a raw material for furniture, arts, and crafts.

Wild Jasmines

This is one of the flowers that stands out as white dots from the surrounding green foliage. The plant Jasminum malabaricum is blended with the surrounding vegetation otherwise. After the first rains, it rapidly climbs to tree tops and starts flowering. It flowers and fruits till monsoon, after which it dries and disappears until the next summer. Apparently, the fruits are edible as well, though I’ve not tried them yet.

While flowers, White Sap

One of the attractive fruits during Monsoon is of Tabernaemontana alternifolia with the shape of a crescent moon, hanging from the branches, opening to reveal the red seeds inside.

The flowers are equally attractive, with its five petals with one overlapping the other. The plant is locally known as “Madd-arasana-gida“, meaning the king of the medicines. All the parts of the plant exude a white sap when cut. The medicinal uses of it are quite forgotten now.

There is a relative of this plant, Tabernaemontana divaricata, that is popular in gardens prized for their showy flowers. They fruit rarely.

During my early days of acquaintance with this family, I confused another plant Rauvolfia verticillata with the Tabernaemontana alternifolia mentioned earlier, due to the similarity of their leaves and sap-exuding property. However, its flowers are much smaller and rounded, with the fruits being rounded as well

Little Dragons

You might be familiar with a house plant that is marketed as Lucky Bamboo or the Vastu Plant, Dracaena sanderiana, that is supposed to be placed in a certain direction of home to bring fortune. It is neither a bamboo, nor might it bring any fortune. However, the plant is quite attractive.

I was amazed to see a plant resembling this at the foothills of the Western Ghats alongside a riverbed. One of my friends noted that it should be the Lucky plant itself, however the stems were woody and it was definitely a different species. I found the same plant some years later, which I could closely observe.

Much to my delight, I observed it preparing to flower one day, with ants visiting the flower buds. The flowers, when open, helped identify the plant as Dracaena terniflora, confirming that it belonged to the same genus as the Lucky Bamboo. The flowers are white, semi-transparent, tube-like and attractive. I’ve yet to observe the fruits.

The genus is named Dracaena — the female dragon, as some of the species produce blood-red resin, being compared to dragon’s blood.

The Caffeinator and its family

Although Coffee plants are not native to India, they are also critically dependent on the pre-monsoon rains to flower. If the rains arrive too early, they fruit during the monsoon, causing them to rot. If the rains arrive too late, they might not flower to their full extent. When they are in flower, they blanket the entire plantations with their jasmine-white color and an intoxicating aroma.

The mass blooming of the coffee plants is a feast for the pollinators, with bees being one of the important pollinators.

The pollinator abundance also attracts the predators, and it is a feast for them alike!

There are many plants that belong to the Coffee family that are native to India. Many of them flower at the same time as Coffee plants, but their fruiting schedules are different. One such plant, Chassalia curviflora, is attractive with its white flowers and their arrangement on the flower stalk.

The Semi-Parasites

Once the trees reach a certain height, they become a habitat of their own — ranging from plants that use the tree as a support (epiphyte), such as orchids, to some who steal the nutrients from the tree for their survival. There are a few plants in the middle of the spectrum that steal water from the tree, but still photosynthesize themselves — semi-parasitic plants. The semi-parasitic plants of the family Loranthaceae put up showy flowers full of nectar to attract birds to aid their pollination. Their fruits are attractive as well, relying on the birds to help them spread to other tree tops.

Time to Stop

The flowers and plants that I covered here are a mere fraction of the biodiversity that exists. Even I could not cover all the flowers with their backstories here, or the article itself will run longer. Below are a few interesting flowers:

What’s Next?

As you might already know, the gift of a highly biodiverse environment comes with the threat of destruction, be it human intervention or the natural hazards.

The wildflowers are a world of their own, and the discovery starts with the observation. As a next natural step, you will be identifying them with the help of Google Lens or other AI tools — they have become so good that the cost of discovery is low. You might want to keep observing a few plants daily to observe their flowering, pollinators and fruiting behaviours. Then, you will start collecting the seeds, helping germinate them and conserve them.

Even when you have a small collection of plants that you observe, document and share, that is a good effort on its own. Do let me know if you are doing/planning to do anything like this — let’s connect and share our thoughts and initiatives!

Notable resources

• Khandige Vikas Bhat’s Instagram Gallery — Although not active, a very good collection of photos of wild flowers of Karnataka

• Khandige Vikas Bhat’s Daily Observations in YouTube — You will get to observe, understand and identify wild plants in their habitat

• Ravichandra Hegde at Instagram — often posts about wild fruits and their uses that are not known to the broader audience.

A few trees in the forests shed leaves, covering the land with a blanket of dried foliage. The dried organic matter is in perfect condition to start decomposing as soon as the first summer rains fall, supporting a variety of fungi.

The summer rains also trigger a variety of wildflowers, including orchids. They flower at such a time of year that their seedlings have optimal growing conditions during the monsoon. This is especially the case for orchids, as their minuscule seeds need a perfectly matched fungus to begin symbiosis and germinate. For this reason, orchids can be used as a proxy for the health of the ecosystem. Orchid diversity directly correlates with fungal and pollinator diversity.

In this article, we will take a look at a few orchids that I captured flowering this summer. You can also check out a few orchids from last year’s monsoon as well.

An Index into the World of Orchids

The Western Ghats host a variety of ecosystems, leading to a greater biodiversity density. Orchids are found on tree trunks (epiphytic), on the forest floor (terrestrial, saprophytic), and some even on bare rock (lithophytic). I recently got to know about a book (linked at the end of the article) that lists the orchids of Karnataka, along with excellent photographs and tips to grow them. All thanks to an Instagram post of the orchid intros by @flying_farmer_17. Out of the orchids listed in the book, I've not even come across 10% of them yet!

The White Glory

On a fine evening after a weather system swept clouds over the mountains of the Western Ghats and cleared the haze, I set out to a nearby mountain with one of my friends, hoping for a view of the nearby and faraway mountains. Since there was no plan, I could not bring my camera, missing out on some beautiful shots. While we got the view of the distant mountains that we deserved, we were also in for a sweet surprise.

The hill that we climbed is fully covered with grassland species, with a few stunted trees scattered around. The tree was completely leafless at this time of year. There were also signs of grassland burning a few days ago. I was surprised to see a kind of flower on that tree that is unusual for the genus it belonged to. Upon careful inspection, I found out that the flowers were not of that tree, but of the orchid Dendrobium barbatulum. The leafless orchid blended in with the leafless tree, creating a perfect illusion!

I also came across this orchid on another nearby mountain, but it was a smaller specimen.

The Bug Mimic

I was on a random walk with one of my friends when I found this orchid. The place where this orchid is growing is near a stream and farmland that offered beautiful views of the nearby mountains. The day was hot, humid, and cloudy, with chances of a light rain at any time. We enjoyed the landscape and, upon returning, stumbled upon a unique orchid.

This Cottonia peduncularis orchid was an unexpected find for me. The leaves of this orchid are like any other Vanda orchid — long, bilobed leaves. I could not have known it was a different species had it not been in flower. This particular specimen was growing on a decomposing tree trunk that is still standing, exposed to the sun. The flowers were on a long stalk that was relatively far from the orchid’s roots. The flowers mimic the appearance of an insect when viewed from certain angles. This is a strategy employed by many orchids to lure insects into pollinating them.

The place where this orchid was found is under the threat of rapid urbanization, reminding us of the habitat loss that is making such species vulnerable — and the importance of conserving their habitats.

Bamboo growing on Top of Trees

The orchid Dendrobium herbaceum is a very common sight across the Western Ghats, where it sometimes inhabits rocks and often the trunks of large trees. They are completely leafless when they flower. In the leafless state, their stems are yellow and segmented, making them look like miniature bamboo. Their flowers are tiny but cute. Their leaves start appearing after their flowers have wilted, and tend to grow toward sunlight.

The Pink Dendrobium

There is a lot of diversity in the flower patterns among orchids of the same family. This orchid, Dendrobium lawianum, was found in a shaded forest. Their flowers are attractive, but do not last more than a day or two. I observed that even if one of the flowers gets self-pollinated, all of the flowers turn into fruits with no seeds inside! I'm not sure whether this peculiarity is limited to this particular specimen, or is observed elsewhere. Do let me know in the comments if you know of such pollination behaviors.

I confused this orchid with Dendrobium crepidatum listed in the book. Both of these orchids have similar-looking stems, but their flowers are slightly different. This goes to illustrate the diversity among orchid species — you sometimes cannot tell species apart if they are not in flower!

The Starry Bulbophyllums

The flowers of Bulbophyllum fimbriatum are very peculiar in that they do not look like flowers at all! One of the specimens in the photographs below was growing at around 1300 m altitude amidst a shola ecosystem, and another was growing at around 1200 m altitude on a moss patch on a granitic rock at the summit of a mountain. They do not have leaves when they are in flower, but soon put up leaves once the flowers wilt and the rains arrive.

You can notice the diversity in this orchid from the photos on flowersofindia.net and below — green vs. red, circular arrangement vs. half circle. Even the two specimens I captured are vastly different.

The Ghost Orchid

This orchid was a rare find when I decided to take an unusual route up a nearby mountain with one of my friends, taking a sudden detour. We saw a flowering stalk coming out of the ground under the shade of coffee plantation trees.

The stalk was white, and the flowers were white with patches of pinkish violet all over them. They looked similar to cardamom flowers, but there was no cardamom plant nearby! Google Lens promptly identified the flowers as belonging to the orchid Epipogium roseum, which was triggered by the first rains of the year.

These orchids symbiose with the fungi on the ground, obtaining their nutrition from them. They have no leaves or any other photosynthetic parts. They flower, get pollinated, set seeds, and die — waiting for the next year’s rains to trigger the cycle again. Perfectly ghostly! Note that there are several such orchids with this behavior that are called ghost orchids.

Orchids on the rock

Alongside the starry Bulbophyllum that was growing on the rock, there was another orchid with pseudobulbs growing on rocks, Coelogyne breviscapa, that I found interesting. I had seen this species of orchid growing on tree trunks, but it can also grow on moss patches on rocks. This orchid produces a cluster of flowers, with bright white petals.

The Gramophone

An otherwise uninteresting tree trunk alongside a walkway was full of patches of red one day. These patches turned out to be the flowers of the orchid Porpax reticulata. Their flowers are taller than they are wide, and closely resemble the horn of a gramophone.

The Long Dendrobium

The orchid Dendrobium macrostachyum is common across the roadside trees of the Western Ghats, with slender stems that can grow very long. Its flowers are triggered by the first summer rains, while still leafless. Its long stem covered with flowers is a beautiful sight.

Until next time

I covered a few orchids in this article and plan to cover many other non-orchid wildflowers in the next article, as this article was running too long with their stories!

Orchids are quite neglected in local cultures, with few words existing in local languages to identify individual species. On the other hand, orchids are a world of their own, with their innovative flower structures to attract pollinators and an unusual germination strategy — all pointing towards a highly specialized, biodiverse environment.

Some of the orchid biodiversity is threatened by habitat loss and climate change, among other things. The specimen of the orchid Trias stocksii found in the video above no longer stands in the forest — the tree was cut down in the process of fencing the forest land. Let's remind ourselves to observe nature (who knows, you might stumble upon an unseen orchid next time you go out!), appreciate their beauty, and help conserve them.

Extended Reading

There are a few people who are doing excellent work documenting biodiversity and helping understand and conserve it. I came across the following people and initiatives that I found interesting:

• Khandige Vikas Bhat — Runs a YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@vidaripollen in which he explores plant species, flowers, and their backstories during his daily walks.

• The Orchids of Karnataka — The book mentioned earlier in the article covers orchids belonging to 48 genera found in Karnataka. You can purchase it through Amazon or Navakarnataka (the book is out of stock at the time of writing this article, so a link to the web page is not available)

• The Naturalist’s Rabbit Hole — A blog and field observation notes detailing phenomena that would go unnoticed in day-to-day life. For example — why are flowers structured the way they are? Which bees actually need conservation?

• Kew Gardens — One of the largest collections of plants in the world, conserving plant diversity in their greenhouses in London. A recent video by them covers why orchids are important to the ecosystem.

• Flowers of India — A great catalog of plant species in India. Most Google Lens results for wildflowers point to them!

• You — The reader interested in observing, understanding, and helping preserve the natural beauty and biodiversity!

To the Plains

My journey started early in the morning, and the morning mist had not lifted completely yet. Most pollution particles are trapped under the inversion layer around this time of day, causing the mountains to appear dull and hazy.

We soon cross the river Bhadra, still close to its origin and still having a narrow channel.

The route takes us through mountains and valleys, still hazy, but all evergreen.

The haze and morning mist create beautiful layering effects on the mountains.

Soon, we enter the back of the “Top Mountain”. The usual route does not take us through this mountain, but I stepped on another bus by mistake. That mistake was fruitful, as I could record the timelapse of easterly winds and clouds passing through the Top Mountain.

After the Top Mountain, we head north to the lower hills of the Western Ghats. The hills here are forest-clad, and the nature of the country starts becoming more open, hosting vast rice fields.

Slowly, the transition makes the hills disappear; now we are in endless rolling plains, dominated by rice fields and lakes.

Hills of the Plains

The plains of Karnataka are dotted with several granite hills and a few small ranges that mark the joining of ancient landmasses. Due to the lack of rains, these hills do not support evergreen forests; rather, the hills are either grassland or scrubby. The valleys are often covered with the remaining stands of deciduous forests. The hill formations near Malebennur (lit. the village at the back of the hills) are remarkable in this aspect, with the exposed bedrock greeting us at roadcuts.

These hills force the rice fields to be terraced, bringing memories of the Malnad.

Crops like corn do not require the land to be flat; hence, they are cultivated on moderate slopes, now harvested and dry.

There was a hint of smoke in the air, and it was due to a small fire inside a dried patch of forest. The cause of most such fires tends to be man-made.

With the advent of irrigation projects, people in the plains are exploring water-demanding cash crops, mainly areca nut. We can see areca nut plantations popping up everywhere.

Back to the Mountains

As we prepare to depart from the plains, we are greeted by Bhadra’s twin river, which we met earlier in the journey — the Tunga. The rivers Bhadra and Tunga originate in the middle of the shola grassland–forest complex of Kuduremukha National Park. Since the Tunga is now flowing in the plains and far from its origin, we get to see a wide river, with a backdrop of a small hill range. A few kilometers from this place, the Tunga and Bhadra rivers meet to form the river Tungabhadra.

The transition from the plains to the mountains is smooth, as described earlier. With areca nut plantations blooming everywhere, the transition is even more seamless. The discernible difference lies in the types of forest — from deciduous scrub to evergreen forests.

The rice fields look much different too, now not as big, with the backdrop dominated by the hill ranges.

Gaining some more elevation, the once forest floors are now covered with extensive coffee plantations.

There are also a handful of large tea plantations, which do not conserve as many trees as coffee plantations do.

Evening Colors

The presence of moderate haze creates beautiful colors in the evening sky, with shadowed mountains creating sharp contrast with the sky.

Even the same place can look noticeably different under the influence of evening colors.

I could not resist capturing the evening colors and took a fun picture of the mountain through the back glass of the bus.

If you are near a river with a hilly backdrop, the reflections and the colors take the sunset to the next level.

In the evening, the haze line starts to become clearly visible, masking the western sky.

To the “Top Mountain” again

I got a chance to visit the “Top Mountain” again with my friends on a hazy evening. Although most of the view was lost due to the haze, the shadow of the mountain created an interesting effect on the valley floor.

The haze also reveals the layers of mountains cleanly.

The sunset was also dull, with the sun disappearing into the haze layer before the proper sunset.

Once the sun had set, the crescent moon and nearby town lights created a serene environment.

Colors of Life

Although the core Western Ghats consists of evergreen forest, there are a handful of deciduous trees found here and there. Some evergreen trees also bloom in the winter. When they bloom, they put on a beautiful show of colors.

Also, we get to see and hear the birds, which are hard to spot during the monsoon.

A few plants put up flowers during winter, as the dry winter and sunny summer create the perfect conditions for their seeds to ripen and dry, ready to be dispersed and germinate in the next monsoon.

Some orchids tend to flower during the winter as well, putting up their unique flowers.

Moving to the next year

Winter is a perfect time to end the year, with the crops coming to harvest and the plants preparing to start a new cycle of growth. The year 2025 has lapsed in the blink of an eye, although it had a lot of packed moments. Let’s move forward to 2026 with optimism and an urge to enjoy and protect nature.

Happy New Year in advance! See you next year.

You might remember the many times I traveled to Mysore from my hometown, avoiding the boring (though fastest) routes that pass through the plains, and instead choosing to go through the mountain roads, capturing the tallest peaks of Karnataka along the way.

This time, I decided to make a few stops in the mountains of the Kodagu (Coorg) region to explore them more deeply. When I was reading about the geologic processes that created the mountains of Coorg, I came across a research paper that described Coorg as an “exotic Mesoarchean micro-continent”, thus the title of this article.

The Journey

The journey to Kodagu passed through all the familiar routes and mountains mentioned in the earlier articles. I couldn’t take many pictures this time from the bus, as it was hard to get a window seat due to the crowd. However, I did manage to spot the pointed peak of Kumaraparvata (1712m) near Sakleshpur. Remember this mountain — it’s going to take center stage soon!

Due to bus delays, I missed the one that passes through the mountainous regions of Hettur and Mageri to Somawarpet. Check my previous articles for glimpses of that route! This time, I had to make do with the less mountainous road that goes through Shanivarasante. Along the way, we come across the backwaters of the Gorur Dam, built across the Hemavati River (I’ve written an article about the mountains where this river originates—go check it out!).

As we approach Somawarpete, smaller mountain ranges began to rise gradually in elevation. When I reached Somawarapete, it became cloudy and dark, so I had to stop taking photographs, hoping for pleasant weather the next day.

Unfortunately, I accidentally lost all the photos from that day. So, please check out the earlier articles for some visual delights!

The Fort Mountain

Many hills and mountains were historically fortified. These forts were later dismantled as administration became centralized and preventing rebels from using them as bases became important. Our particular destination was a fort mountain called Kotebetta, which stands at an elevation of 1635m, though no visible remains of a fort exist today. Near its base lies a temple dedicated to the god Shiva, which was our destination. There is another temple dedicated to Shiva at the top of the mountain, which I explored in a previous article. Unfortunately, I couldn’t plan a hike this time due to time constraints.

We had a good start to the day with blue skies, scattered clouds, and pleasant sunshine illuminating the coffee plantations.

The view of the mountain looked promising as well, clear and free of clouds.

As we gained elevation and reached near the base of the mountain, we had a superb view of the rocky mountain, with sunlight highlighting the water-stained rocks.

This mountain’s base consists of exposed rock, which is slowly eroding over geologic time, forming cracks and breaking away smaller boulders. The scale of these exposed rock faces is gigantic.

From near the base of the rock, we could get a good view of the surrounding mountains. Although I had high expectations for the visibility range, I had to settle for reduced visibility due to the clouds. However, the combination of clouds and the morning sun created beautiful views.

Soon, clouds began rolling over the mountain, and a light drizzle started. Wherever sunlight still broke through, it was a perfect moment to capture the mountains. The smaller ranges near Shanivarasante, which I mentioned earlier — with the prominent peak of Malambi (1354m) — stood out beautifully amid the drifting clouds.

We could see a few distant hills marking the border of the plains. Under ideal visibility conditions, the view would extend much farther, encompassing the plains as well.

The farthest peak I could identify was Bantamale (731m) near Sullya, located in the coastal plains. The visibility of that mountain wasn’t very good either.

Ideally, we would be able to see the rocky summit of Kumaraparvata from this mountain, but it was covered in clouds, making it difficult to identify.

However, we could spot the Surlabbi waterfall, which was running low on water and had been unrecognizable when I visited this mountain during the dry summer.

Soon, the rain began to intensify, and the clouds started to obscure the view, forcing us to leave.

The Shola Ranges

Later in the day, as the sun finally returned to duty, we headed toward another mountain located on the edge of the Western Ghats. The place, known as Mandalapatti, is popular among tourists visiting Coorg. As we began our journey from the deep valley near Kotebetta, we started spotting grass-covered mountains along the way.

Soon, Kotebetta revealed itself in all its vastness.

Kumaraparvata was not far behind either, beginning to peek out from behind the other mountains along the way.

Soon, it was time for Kumaraparvata to reveal itself — at least a little more than just its peaks.

There were many named and unnamed shola mountains, all lush green and covered in a mosaic of light and shadow created by the passing clouds.

The forest department has put up a (useless?) gate in the middle of the wilderness to signify that we’re close to the final viewpoint!

At the viewpoint, we were greeted by a lazily grazing herd of cattle. The place truly lives up to one of its names I found in a map, “mandal-hatti,” meaning “a grazing place for cattle”!

Views and the Scars

The viewpoint at Mandalapatti offers a stunning view of the coastal plains and the surrounding mountains. The previously seen Bantamale of Sullia draws attention as it rises prominently above the coastal landscape.

We could see the steep, densely forested slopes of the mountains descending toward the coast. These slopes are marked by scars from the landslides that occurred in 2018 and 2020 due to heavy rains.

Apart from the steep slopes, we could also see parallel ranges with peaks peeking out from behind them. Since the day was cloudy, we couldn’t spot or identify many mountains. I had hoped to catch a clear view of the Kuduremukh Range about 90 km away, but that still remains a distant dream!

To the Plains

Since I had to continue toward my actual destination, I couldn’t stay in the mountains forever. As a final stop, I stayed at a friend’s place (if you’re interested in travel, history, and folklore within and beyond the mountains, you should definitely check out her blog!) and decided to visit a nearby mountain that offers a great view of the town of Virajpete and the surrounding peaks.

The journey to the plains took me through the Nagarahole Reserve Forest, which was lush and green thanks to the recent monsoon rains (it usually dries up during the summer). Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any pictures along the way due to the crowded bus — same story as at the start!

Return Journey

During the return journey, I couldn’t explore more mountains, as Cyclone Motha brought drizzling weather across the Western Ghats region of Karnataka. I took a route through the plains instead of the mountains.

Due to the clearing of pollution by the cyclone’s winds, I was able to spot the Nilgiris from the outskirts of Mysore, something I had managed to do once before. Unfortunately, I couldn’t capture a photo of it this time.

The prominent mountain visible across the plains was Bettadapura Hill (1318m), located just outside the core Western Ghats range. This mountain accompanied me for a good part of the journey.

Apart from that, there are no significant mountains in the plains, only numerous granite hillocks scattered across the landscape.

When I re-entered the Western Ghats, I was greeted by rainfall and nightfall at the same time.

Until Next Time

The Western Ghats, though not as grand in elevation or terrain as the Himalayas or other Alpine ranges, are incredibly diverse. The geographic barriers they create have led to a rich cultural variety that can be experienced in the region’s cuisine, languages, traditions, and customs. Beyond the human elements, the serenity of the mountains themselves is truly captivating.

After spending so much time living and traveling in the mountains, I felt a kind of jet lag when I returned to the plains of Mysore. I only recovered once I made it back home. Truly, the mountains have a way of capturing both the heart and soul!

One such fine Sunday, I woke up to the clear blue skies and decided to hike a nearby mountain with one of my friends. The mountain is called the “Top Mountain” affectionately in the local language and sits at an elevation of 1659m above sea level.

The Route

The route to the mountain is mostly navigable, thanks to the coffee and tea plantations extending (and encroaching 😅) till the base of the mountain. In the route, we slowly gain elevation and get a nice view of the mountain and the surroundings.

As we near our mountain, we see its side ranges, which also have a good deal of elevation.

Finally, when we arrive at the base, we are welcomed by the grandeur of our destination.

The Hike

As you see from the photo above, the most logical way to hike this mountain is from the gentle sloping side that runs right-left in this image. This path takes us through a coffee plantation, and then opens us to the montane grassland. In the past, we did a mistake of climbing this mountain by its side, which proved to be tiresome!

The route passes through several smaller sub-hills of this mountain, creating beautiful panoramas.

If you are observing enough, you will see the rocks beautifully bent and folded all over. These rocks are rich in iron and are called as Banded Iron Formations (BIFs). They formed in an ocean environment some 3700 Million years ago. The tectonic and mountain-building processes made them end up in the top of hill, now facing monsoon erosions. I will likely elaborate on the processes that happened here in a future day, when I’m confident enough about my knowledge!

The sub-hills also offer a nice view on route, helping to console tiredness from climbing.

Hills of various Shapes and Sizes

You are in for a wonderful view at the peak provided that the peak is free from clouds and the visibility is good. The experience is better summarized by the words of a late Chief Commissioner of Mysore and Coorg Provinces during British India, which got later quoted in the Gazeteer of the state.

Although the visibility looked great for us when we started in the valley floor, the summit told us a different story. We could see a maximum of 40km radius, which can ideally be upto 80-100km given ideal conditions. In the northwest, we could see a little farther than the granite inselberg of Kundadri, near Agumbe.

The tallest mountain in the Karnataka, Mullayyanagiri, was obscured with clouds.

The farthest point in the core Western Ghats that we could make out was Amedikkel, which is 36km away.

Although the long range visibility was impacted, whatever was visible with covered with shadows and lights, making up for a beautiful view.

The immediate mountains in the tail were visible clearly, hinting at the activities of the Tea plantations.

The side-ranges of the Chandradrona range compete with the elevation of this “Tall mountain”.

Another contender for the elevation is the Kuduremukha Range that stands mighty.

After the Chandradrona and Kuduremukha ranges, there are no contenders in terms of elevation for our “Tall mountain”, making it a good viewpoint of the surrounding areas.

The light and shadow over the shola forest-grassland complex mosic of the mountains of Kuduremukha National Park was beautiful.

Even when there was no shola complex, the cloud shadows created interesting effects.

Where we were ideally supposed to see the sea (80km-132km), there was haze in the horizon. I wonder if anyone have seen the sea from here, although it does not seem impossible based on the distance.

The richness of the greenery, from grass to the rice fields, makes a feast for the eyes.

It also rained over some parts of the area, from which we were fortunately spared.

The Life

Life at this elevation surely has a lot of challenges — from torrential rains and winds of monsoon, to the dry winds of winter, and, the manmade fires of summer. However, the life thrives. The grassland, apart from the grasses, is host to a multitude of the plants, including famous Neelkurinji family (Strobilanthes). At the end of the monsoon, most of these plants will be flowering, preparing for the dry season ahead. We managed to capture a lot of beautiful flowers along the way.

Some slopes of the mountain are shielded from winds and host a shola-like forest. Most of the accessible parts of these forests are converted to coffee and tea plantations long ago. Only a few strands of the original forests remain, home to Indian Bisons (Gaur). These bisons often wander into the plantations, sometimes inducing the human-wildlife conflicts.

We (fortunately?) did not spot any bisons. The animal life we saw was a Brahmani Kite suspended in mid air (which I could not take photos of due to camera power running low) and a ladybird.

Bottomline

Seeing a 3.7 Billion year old rock, deformed, folded, now sitting happily at the mountaintop and subject to the weathering, makes the human timescales look miniscule. Yet, as a species, we are affecting these ecosystems in a significant way — either it be causing the loss of biodiversity, encroachment, poisoning the soil while doing agriculture, plastic pollution among other things.

This mountain in a corner of the Western Ghats is not out of the reach of such practices. It is upon us to respect the nature, learn from it, and be a part of it in harmony. In the end, we should not be battling with the nature, we must coexist with it.

During the past few years, I managed to collect a few orchids from the wild—some fallen during rainstorms, some from cut trees. I mounted them on the trees near my house for close observation. In this photo-article, we will explore some orchids and their flowers!

The humid conditions during monsoon also favour orchid sprouting in the wild. Growing them artificially requires lab conditions!

The Western Ghats hosts a variety of orchids across its diverse ecosystems. Some orchids are found in windy shola mountaintops as well. The orchids below are from ~1700m mountain in Kuduremukha National Park.

Orchids face threats in the form of their ecosystems being destroyed for various human activities. Individuals can take action and spread awareness about them by actively helping to conserve them — like the efforts in Kerala supported by Kew Gardens and Gurukula Trust.

Next time you find an orchid fallen from a roadside tree, bring it to your house and mount it on a tree where there is neither bright sunshine nor damp shade. By the next monsoon, it will put out new roots, and hopefully flowers, and become stabilized. A small act can go a long way in conservation!

The mountains forming the western limit [of Hassan District] extend from the pass at the Bisale ghát to Jénkal-beṭṭa, including within a grand panorama the towering height of Subrahmanya or Pushpagiri, close to the south-west border, rising to 5,626 feet above the level of the sea; Devar-beṭṭa (4,206 feet), Múrkan guḍḍa (4,265 feet), and the superb Jénkal-beṭṭa (4,558 feet).

The highest point [of Baba-budan range] is the symmetrical Mulaina-giri, 6,317 feet above the level of the sea. It is towards the south of the range and is the loftiest mountain between the Himālayas and the Nilagiris.

The conspicuous conical peak on the outer verge [of Baba-budan range] of the eastern face is Deviramman-gudda. A beacon is lighted here at the Dipavali festival, which is visible to all the surrounding country.

Ballal-rayan-durga. — A fine spreading hill in the Western Ghat range, crowned with extensive fortifications. It is situated in 13° 8' N. lat., and 75° 29' E. long., in the north-west angle of the Múdgere taluq, over against Kellaggur. The fortifications were erected, as its name indicates, by the Hoysala kings. The old entrance is to the north, through what is now the Horikán coffee plantation. There are two gates, the diḍḍi bágalu and the simha bágalu. The citadel is a small square fort on the highest point, overlooking the South Kanara District. To the east of it is the old tank, now a bog, overgrown with impenetrable bushes. The pass to Kanara, north of the droog, is tremendously steep, but was formerly in regular use. To this fortress the Ráni of Bednur fled for refuge on the capture of her capital by Haidar Ali in 1763, and hence she was sent by him as a prisoner to Maddagiri (Tumkur District.)

Búnd Ghat. — The Búnd Ghát (coffee ghat) is the principal outlet to the western coast from the south of the District. The Ghat road runs from Múdgere and is led through the Wombat-maraḍi or nine hills. The views from Kotigehára of the approach to and down the ghat are very fine. Near the head of the ghat is a hill, called Hulikal, with two boulders on it supposed to represent the petrified forms of a tiger and a bull. The descent is by easy gradients of 1 in 20 to 1 in 15.

Mr. Bowring, who visited Gangámúla, says, "It is in truth a wild country, and has a desolate grandeur about it, seeming to be the end of the world. On every side tower up magnificent mountains, spreading for leagues in every direction, and covered with immense forests, while nowhere can one detect the faintest trace of human life, either in the shape of houses or of cultivation." It was to these solitudes that the father of Pandita Ramábái retired for many years, and here it was that he taught her Sanskrit.

Hemavati. — This river, a principal tributary of the Kávéri, is more fully described under the Hassan and Mysore Districts, in which most of its course is run. But it rises in this District, in Jávali, in the Melbangáḍi mágani of the Múdgere taluq. The reputed source is a spring, behind the house of Lakshmayya, a coffee planter, which is led through a stone bull into a square stone well. The stream runs in a south-east direction to the Hassan District, which it enters at the common boundary of Manjarabad and Belur.

It[Kalasa] is situated in a valley surrounded by the lofty hills of the Western Ghat range, and at the southern base of Merti, the grand hill of Kalasa.

Going through Melangadi and keeping on to the river, a sacred bathing-place called Ambu-tírtha is reached, where the stream rushes very deep between some water-worn rocks. At one point is a large boulder, a big square-shaped stone placed horizontally on another. On the former is an inscription in Sanskrit, stating that Srí Madhváchárya brought and placed it there with one hand!

The areca-nut produced in the neighbourhood is reckoned the best in Mysore, being known as Desavara, in distinction from that grown in other Malnád parts, which is called Honnavara, and from Volágra, which is the produce of other inland gardens.

Kudure Mukha. — A peak in the Western Ghats and one of the loftiest points in Mysore, the summit being 6,215 feet above the level of the sea. It is situated on the frontier in the south-west of the District, at the point where the line of the Ghats bends more inland. The approach from the Mysore side is by way of Samse, the hill being sometimes called on the spot the Samse parvata. Its name of Kudure mukha, or Horse-face, is descriptive of its appearance seawards, where it is a well-known mark for navigators. The officials of Malabar have a bungalow at the top as a hot weather retreat, and a bridle path has been formed from the Malabar side, which is the easiest means of ascending the mountain.

Merti-gudda, also called the Kalasa hill, is situated in the Bále Honnur taluq, in 13° 18' N. lat., 75° 26' E. long. It is the loftiest peak between the Bába Budan and Western Ghat ranges, the summit being 5,451 feet above the level of the sea. To the north it presents a majestic conical aspect. Towards the south-west it is connected with two lower heights and is so surrounded on all sides with high hills that its true elevation does not appear except at a distance.

Mr. Bowring, who left few hills unscaled, says: "After a toilsome climb up its steep sides by the ‘windy gorge,’ one revels in a view which surpasses all expectation. On every side tower up hills of various shapes and sizes, stretching far away to the horizon, and presenting a wonderful spectacle of wild sublimity.”

“The foot of the steep ridge which runs up to a sharp point forming the actual peak is called the Túral bágalu (entrance gate), and is in a gap between the Mérti Parvat and another hill to the south. A very tough pull of twenty-five minutes takes one hence to the summit, the higher of two peaks, between which there is a dip."

"The top of Merti is quite bare, but its sides are clothed with fine forests, in which are splendid specimens of the champaka tree, so much esteemed by natives for its fragrant white flowers; while one sees beneath, in secluded nooks and sheltered valleys, stretches of paddy land in successive layers, one below the other, and numerous gardens of areca-nut, which, in this remote corner, attains an excellence surpassing that of any other place where the fruit is grown. The sides of Merti, where the nature of the ground admits of it, are cultivated in a series of terraces, in which abundance of rice is grown, with a little coffee: this, however, does not succeed well, owing to the humidity of the climate."

Closing Quotes

The quote below exists in a short form in Rice’s Gazetteer. A full form is found in Bowring’s Eastern Experiences.

At Báléhonúr, the second stage from Hariharapur, an extremely difficult mountain path leads W.S.W. to the secluded Kalasa Mágani (Mágani is a name given in the Malnád to a portion of a Táluq, or sub-division, which in the plain country is called a Hóblí). This curious region is quite unique, both the country and the people having many peculiarities. A concise description of it is given in the following Kanarese saying —

Múrú Sávira Varahá
Áru Sávira Gudda
Hanéradu Sávira Paisách
Kádella Sampige
Úrella Heggadé

which, being translated, signifies —
Three thousand pagodas (i.e. 10,000 rs. revenue)
Six thousand hills
Twelve thousand devils
In every thicket the Champaka (a tree famous for its fragrant flowers)
In every village a Heggadé (a Jain Headman)

The Rabbit-hole

While reading the Gazetteer, I began to read the sources quoted there, among which I found The Experience of a Planter in the Jungles of Mysore by R. H. Elliot, who came to Sakaleshapura and started a coffee plantation when he was eighteen. His writings cover a broad range of topics including coffee planting, the local language, customs, and social norms of that time in the remote corner of the Western Ghats. The book Gold, Sport, Coffee Planting in Mysore, published in a later year, covers more ground, omits some details, and notes the political shifts happening in the country as a sidenote.

While looking for the Bowring “who left few hills unscaled,” I came across the book Eastern Experiences, half of which is devoted to the Mysore State. The Bowring in question was L. B. Bowring, who was Chief Commissioner of Mysore at a time when the power of the state was temporarily placed in British hands due to differences between them and the Raja. The book contains an extensive account of his tours across the state and other parts of the world. The final section views these tours through the eyes of his wife, in the form of letters written to her friends back home in Britain.

Both of these books, among other colonial-era works, are worth exploring, which I will do in the coming days.

Sources

1. Mysore : a gazetteer compiled for government - Volume 2 - Mysore, by districts - B. L. Rice - https://archive.org/details/mysore_gazetter_gov_v2/page/n6/mode/1up

2. A more clear version of the above book, where maps are clearly seen are found with Karnataka Gazeteer Department. For example - https://gazetteer.karnataka.gov.in/storage/pdf-files/pdf/Mysore%20Vol.%20II%20by%20Benjamin%20Lewis%20Rice-2004/KADUR%20DISTRICT.pdf

3. The experience of a planter in the jungle of Mysore - Volume 1 - R. H. Elliot - https://archive.org/details/dli.ministry.02031

4. The experience of a planter in the jungle of Mysore - Volume 2 - R. H. Elliot - https://www.google.co.in/books/edition/The_Experiences_of_a_Planter_in_the_Jung/gRs7AQAAMAAJ

5. Gold, Sport, Coffee Planting in Mysore - R.H Elliot - https://archive.org/details/GoldSportCoffeeMysore/mode/2up

6. Eastern Experiences - L. B. Bowring - https://archive.org/details/EasternExperiences

The region of present-day Karnataka was largely ruled by the princely state of Mysore, along with parts administered by the British provinces of Madras, Bombay, and Hyderabad. The British also directly administered the small state of Coorg. The three-volume series Mysore and Coorg: A Gazetteer Compiled for the Government of India, compiled by Benjamin Lewis Rice (B. L. Rice), offers a detailed view of the region.

B. L. Rice is best known for his work Epigraphia Carnatica, in which he pioneered the collection and interpretation of inscriptions from Karnataka. His efforts laid a crucial foundation for future epigraphical and archaeological discoveries in the region.

In this series of articles, I will explore the regions and landscapes described in the gazetteer, accompanied by present-day photographs and direct quotes from the book.

What Wales is to England, Coorg is to Mysore, in miniature ; a picturesque mountain region, situated on its western side …. Its name, properly Koḍagu, said to mean 'steep mountains', graphically depicts the character of this interesting alpine land.

Its shape on the map has been compared to that of an infant's knitted boot, the heel pointing north-west, and the toe south-east. A narrow arm, about 12 miles long, by about 6 wide, projects northwards into Mysore on the north east.

Behind Nalknád palace, Tadiándamól, the highest mountain of this range, raises its gracefully shaped head over its majestic neighbours. Its height is 5,729 feet above the level of the sea

At an acute angle upon this line, the main chain of the Ghats is continued in a due easterly direction as the Benga-nád range, till, nearing Mercara, it makes a sudden turn to the north-west, and forms with the latter the Sampáji valley, which leads by a gradual slope into the low country of Canara.

At the head of the valley, and supported by a high ridge with steep abutments on its southern front, the Mercara table-land is situated.

This plateau, crossed in all directions by minor hills and ridges, is bounded on the west by the continuation of the Ghats, which culminate near the Bisilu-pass in the Subrahmanya or Pushpagiri hill, 5,626 feet above the sea level.

This is a remarkable two-pointed hill of precipitous height and peculiar shape, and resembles, as seen from Mercara, a gigantic bullock hump.

Amongst the many ridges that branch off from the Subrahmanya range of the Ghats, the most remarkable is that which attains its greatest height in Kóte-betta, about 9 miles north of Mercara. Its elevation is 5,375 feet, and its base covers a very large extent of country. Its summit, which is divided into two peaks, one rather pointed—the Harangal-betta—and the other broad, forms a comparatively flat table land, while its sides are clothed with forest and innumerable cultivated valleys occupy the recesses.

Close to the apex there are two reservoirs of water, one for the use of the Brahmans and one for the Coorgs, which all the year round retain a constant supply

Close to the summit, on a spacious platform, is a small temple of rough granite slabs dedicated to Siva.

This hill, as well as the Nūrokal-betta, offer, on account of their height and central position, the finest general view of Coorg; and even to the lover of nature familiar with mountain glories in Scotland, Switzerland or Italy, no more delightful excursion could be recommended than that to these hills.

The last remarkable range, that which extends from the northern frontier of Coorg down to the Kávéri almost due south, is the Yélusávira hills, with the Málimbi and Kánangala peak. The former is distinguished by its beautifully conical shape, which strikes the eye in every part of Coorg. Its altitude is 4,488 feet.

These quotes are from the opening pages of the third volume. I’ll be exploring several more places in the coming days, so make sure to subscribe if you haven’t already!

References

• Mysore and Coorg : A gazetteer compiled for the government of India, Volume III - https://archive.org/details/cu31924071131605

Edit on 2025-05-12

I recently came across the book “Gazetteer Of Coorg” —https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.94276/ — published in 1870, from which Rice’s Gazetteer seems to have taken some quotes