My Indian Summers

Of Road Trips, Picnics, Bungalows, Abbeys, and Ancient Temples

As I shared in an earlier post on trains, travel was an integral part of our summer lives. While trains were part of some summers, most involved car trips. Just like in the US, driving was convenient for many destinations.

Our favorite trips were the 10-14 hour drives from Hyderabad to Bangalore.

Note: This has now been reduced to 8 hours, thanks to the US-like highways developed between the two cities.

These trips had plenty of unplanned stops for meals, temples, and places of interest.

Our families packed food, and we would find a nice spot off the roads to indulge in some home-cooked niceties.

One memorable picnic took place off the highway, under a large Banyan tree that someone in the car had identified as an ideal spot.

Photo by Johann Siemens on Unsplash

We pulled over, gathered our picnic essentials, and strolled toward the sizable square stone bench beneath the tree—a common sight in villages—amid the green fields. There, beneath the welcoming shade, we sat and heartily enjoyed our meal.

Quintessential picnic fare consisted of homemade meals that could withstand the heat of the summer sun.

These usually included Indian bread (chapatis/rotis, not Naan) with different curries, both dry (like this potato curry) and gravy-based. A favorite was a tomato-gravy curry, a specialty of our home (a custom recipe). Sometimes, we had lemon rice.

Finally, we had the yoghurt (curd) rice - essentially, rice mixed in with yoghurt and benign spices, a dish, unique to South India.

This evergreen and versatile dish which is easy to make has the magical ability to calm any stomach and is the go-to prescription of moms and grandmas. They swear by its comforting qualities during various ailments, including flus, fevers, colds, ‘delhi bellies,’ and general complaints.

Fun fact: During her maiden visit to India, a teenage Indian-American friend of the family loved the humble curd rice but decided that adding ketchup would make it even better. As an 8-year-old, I was game! So, for a while, she and I were the odd ones at the dining table, eating curd rice with tomato ketchup, raising eyebrows all around.

Food tip: Skip the ketchup, use brown instead of white rice, and consider adding sliced fruits such as green or black grapes, apples, and pomegranate seeds—either individually or combined.

For our road trips, we packed meals in steel lunch boxes and carried our own filtered water in bottles, making picnics a breeze.

Funnily enough, we never had any dessert back then; at most, we may have eaten bananas bought from sellers on the roads or in small villages, hawking local farm wares.

Another vivid memory involves an impromptu stop at an ancient temple during one of our journeys.

Note: India is a land of temples, both ancient and new. If you guessed their count to be three million, you would be spot on.

We explored its history and learned about its mythological origins from the local priest who lived nearby.

Birds chirped, the wind rustled the leaves, and the cool air of the temple enveloped us as we sat on the stone floors of the outer temple hall, surrounded by tall stone pillars, listening to ancient stories.

Many years later, in a different time and place, far away, a comparable sense of peace found me during a visit to Ely near Cambridge one early weekday morning.

Unexpectedly alone in the medieval Cathedral, the stillness, accompanied by the cool, unfettered wind freely blowing through, created a moment where all was well with the world.

It is hard to define—this experience. It isn’t created by design or intent. If you allow yourself some space, freedom from the pressures of time, and happen to be in a convivial environment, it finds you.

Just as it found me, again, when a profound sense of calm enveloped me during the accidental discovery of Tintern Abbey as I drove by on a Wales adventure.

Tintern Abbey. Photo by iSAW Company on Unsplash

Wandering through the green ruins, alongside the gently flowing River Wye, echoes of silence in the valley, I pondered its history, imagining the lives of the monks who once inhabited its sacred space.

Immersed in the magnificent stillness of that day, I read Wordsworth's evocative verses on Tintern Abbey (aren’t gift-shops wonderful inventions?) which beautifully resonated with me. Tintern Abbey remains my all-time favorite spot for pausing the world to think deeply.

Yet, I feel he could have been describing nature and history anywhere such moments could be had.

"Abundant recompense. For I have learned

To look on nature, not as in the hour

Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes

The still sad music of humanity,

Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power

To chasten and subdue.—And I have felt

A presence that disturbs me with the joy

Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime

Of something far more deeply interfused,

Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,

And the round ocean and the living air,

And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:

A motion and a spirit, that impels

All thinking things, all objects of all thought,

And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still

A lover of the meadows and the woods

And mountains; and of all that we behold

From this green earth; of all the mighty world

Of eye, and ear,—both what they half create,

And what perceive; well pleased to recognise

In nature and the language of the sense

The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,

The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul

Of all my moral being."

Returning to my car trip accounts, on longer journeys, pit stops in small towns with limited modern amenities were inevitable. But this is not an unfamiliar challenge for an intrepid Indian traveler.

Fortunately, the British administration, expanding on a concept introduced by rulers of ancient India, had established sprawling rest houses, or ‘dak bungalows’ everywhere for their officials.

While these were later taken over by local state governments (sometimes inadequately), they still served itinerant travelers like us.

The rooms were allocated on a first-come, first-served basis for a small fee per night.

During one late-night stopover, we came across such a government bungalow. Unfortunately, there weren’t any available rooms.

We were generously assigned a large common room with sofas and tables.

[It’s just one of those quaint Indian ways; there is always some solution to be found!]

However, this experience took an unexpected turn when we discovered huge geckos on the room walls, making sleep impossible.

As kids, we spent the night vigilantly watching the movements of the geckos, not allowing the adults to turn out the lights. Drifting in and out of sleep, we always ensured the geckos were farthest away from our makeshift beds.

Needless to say, we didn’t sleep very well.

In India, I make it a constant endeavor to explore offbeat villages and towns, seeking lesser-known places of interest and temples still frequented by locals but rarely visited by outsiders.

These journeys offer moments of peace in the countryside, far from urban pressures. A recent gem comes to mind—a 12th-century Jain temple we discovered just an hour's drive from the heart of Bangalore.

Although the setting sun prevented a 500-step trek to the statues, the quiet hills and the temple at its base provided the perfect backdrop for a spectacular sunset.

We drank coconut water from one of the two vendors there. The second vendor was also selling watermelon from a local farm. It was a becalming evening.

Even amid a billion people, I find solace in nature and the whispers of monuments built by those who left their fingerprints on time.

As an adult with extensive global travel experiences, I yearned for the magic of those childhood summers (minus the geckos). What I discovered were adventures even more magical, now that I can fully appreciate them.

In such moments, the verses of Wordsworth’s Tintern Abbey still linger in my mind.

"Knowing that Nature never did betray

The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,

Through all the years of this our life, to lead

From joy to joy: for she can so inform

The mind that is within us, so impress

With quietness and beauty, and so feed

With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,

Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,

Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all

The dreary intercourse of daily life,

Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb

Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold

Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon

Shine on thee in thy solitary walk."

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Dear Reader, I hope you enjoyed this story. I wish you unexpected picnics, ancient stories, and moments when time pauses to let you fully appreciate the beauty that surrounds you.

May the roads you tread be lined with the poetry of life.

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