Chasing the Waves: An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 2 (Udupi temple and St. Mary's island)

Madhav sarovar - you can see the general queue at the other side

Links for all parts

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 1

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 2

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Final day

Leaving Udupi without visiting the iconic Sreekrishna Temple is unthinkable. For visiting the temple, the early morning of an uneventful day is the best time. There will be less crowd, calmness, one can roam around the temple premises and also take a sneak peek at the excellent temple architecture. Each temple has its own story to tell, and so does the Udupi temple.

Path to sanctum

The temple is linked to the 13th-century saint Madhvacharya, who also founded the Dvaita school of Vedanta. According to mythology, the temple's idol of Lord Krishna was originally worshipped by Rukmini in Dwaraka. After being lost at sea for centuries, it was rediscovered by Madhvacharya in a miraculous event. He calmed a storm to save a ship near the Malpe coast, and as thanks, the ship's captain offered him a lump of sacred clay. Within the clay, Madhvacharya found the idol of a young Krishna holding a churning rod and rope, which he installed in Udupi. The Krishna idol here faces west, which is very rare.

Another famous story involves Kanakadasa, a poet-saint of a lower caste, who was barred from entering the temple. It is believed that his devotion moved Lord Krishna, and the temple wall miraculously cracked, opening a window known as Kanakana Kindi, through which Krishna blessed him. Even today, devotees view the idol through this window.

Udupi Sreekrishna temple

From an administrative viewpoint, the temple follows the Paryaya system, where eight monasteries take turns managing it every two years. Free meals are available here to all devotees.

Morning  

It’s not easy to wake up early in the morning when the previous day was spent traveling. However, it doesn’t make sense to come all the way here and sleep. Contradicting viewpoints indeed! Indecision cost us time, and finally, we decided to go to the temple. Divya and Niha stayed back, as they wanted to sleep for some more time. I called Gokul and Deepa, but they were also embraced by the lord of sleep. Finally, mom and I decided to go and walked towards the auto stand, which was not far. From there, the temple is around 8 km away. Even though it’s a bus route, buses are not frequent.

After a while, the auto driver dropped us near the temple gate, and we went inside. The first structure we came across was the Sreekrishna Math. This structure, I remember from my previous visit almost a decade ago. Next, we saw an endless queue. For a while, mom thought of going back to the hotel as it seemed difficult to get darshan anytime soon, and she hadn’t eaten.

We walked further and finally reached the front entrance. There was a small hope of having a special queue here, which could bypass the long queue for a fee. Nowadays, special queues are available in many famous temples. Some people are against this, as they consider paying an amount to make the darshan faster to be unfair. I don’t disagree that staying in the general queue to view the deity is the right way. However, when one is in a distant city and all you have is a couple of hours, this may be the best option. In some temples, this system is very straight forward; in others, they offer a costly pooja, and paying for it allows 4-5 people (the number varies by temple) a faster darshan. Maybe this is done so that everyone has some kind of feel-good factor. In most temples, whether you are in a special queue or a general queue, you might see the deity from the same distance (as both queues generally merge near the sanctum). However, in some temples, people in the special queue are allowed to go much closer to the deity.

When checked, the special queue seemed to be starting somewhere ahead. We climbed the steps and went to the first floor. Here, we could see the other end of the queue. Three or four people were carrying a pre-teen girl from the queue to outside. It looked like she had dizziness. Our queue slowly moved ahead, and there was a counter where a lady, probably in her late forties, was explaining to a group that doing annadan (I didnt hear the name clearly, but it was associated with 3-4 special darshan tickets) was more economical than paying individually for the special darshan queue. Well, we moved ahead and stopped at the counter for the special darshan and joined the new queue. This was also not short; there were a lot of people in the queue. We passed through a couple of wooden (made fully of wood but not decorated in any way) vestibules. After a long wait, we finally reached the sanctum, stayed there for some time, and then exited. After buying a couple of laddoos, we came out and explored nearby shops to buy some souvenirs. Later we slowly, we walked forward and reached the 'Math' again. Here, we visited two more temples.

Shri Chandramouleeshwara Temple

Dedicated to Lord Shiva, this temple holds great historical and spiritual significance. According to mythology, the temple is associated with Chandra (the moon god), who is believed to have worshipped Lord Shiva here to be relieved of a curse. Pleased with his devotion, Shiva appeared in the form of a linga, which is now enshrined in the temple.

Anantheshwara Temple

Primarily a Shiva temple, it holds unique significance as a place where Lord Vishnu is also revered. It is considered one of the oldest temples in the region, predating the nearby Udupi Sri Krishna Temple. According to mythology, the temple was established by Parashurama, the sixth avatar of Lord Vishnu, after reclaiming the land of coastal Karnataka from the sea.

St. Mary’s Island  

Post-lunch, it was time to visit St. Mary’s Island. I had visited the island when I was in Udupi last time. However, it was not from the beach but from Malpe fishing harbor. Divya had also visited the island during her previous role as a college lecturer. For the rest, it was their first time. Gokul bought the tickets, and we stood in a temporary queue around 2-3 in the afternoon. Finally, our boat came, and people boarded.

The challenge was that there is no jetty here, and the sea is very shallow. You might wonder how on earth they would push this boat into the sea with so many passengers and waves. Certainly, Yamaha's renowned engine cannot operate on sand! Well, they used the ancient method: employing several people to manually push the boat into the sea. However, there was a problem—the boat had more than enough people. It seemed to exceed the safe number recommended for a boat of that size. The organizers came inside and asked some visibly overweight passengers to disembark temporarily. Then, the manual laborers resumed pushing the boat. Finally, the boat moved further into the sea, the engines started, and we sailed towards the island, leaving the beautiful Malpe Beach behind.

These are a group of four small islands known for their unique hexagonal basalt rock formations, created by volcanic activity millions of years ago. Legend says Vasco da Gama stopped here in 1498 before reaching Kerala and named the islands after St. Mary. The island is not yet commercialized apart from boat rides, so remember to carry enough water and snacks.

St. Mary's island

We got down at one end and walked towards the other, along a shell-laden path. I spent time photographing the unique rock formations, while my mom hesitated to go further. Divya mostly roamed around with Niha, and Gokul tried to invent new jokes along the way. Many areas I visited during my previous trip were now off-limits to tourists, marked with red flags.

We took the last boat back to Malpe, walked through the crowd, and reached a restaurant for refreshments. After resting briefly at the hotel restaurant, we returned to the beach road. Along the way, we stopped at roadside shacks for snacks like potato twisters and juices. Since it was Diwali, there were dance and music programs organized. After dinner, everyone returned to their rooms, while I walked toward the sea. I watched some performances on stage for about 10-20 minutes before spending an unknown amount of time by the sea.

Hexagonal rock structures

Potato twister

Looking back...

Gokul and Deepa enjoying the sunshine

Sajeev

Chasing the Waves: An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 1

Links for all parts

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 1

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Day 2

An Unforgettable Escape to Malpe Beach - Final day

Oceans have always fascinated me. While I saw mountains every day until the end of my teenage years, I never saw the sea. I was intrigued by beaches where waves never stop rolling in; islands surrounded by water on all sides; ships which transports goods from ancient times; and mighty European sea powers which brought in so much wealth from their colonies. 

For me, the sea was an elusive marvel; for New Delhi, though, it might have been the opposite. Despite India’s vast coastline and proximity to international shipping routes; despite a rich history of maritime trade; independent India hasn’t truly embraced the idea of becoming an ocean power. Perhaps having the capital located hundreds of kilometers from the coast hasn’t helped.

Bangalore, too, isn’t a city where you can easily reach the sea. Located in the center of southern Deccan, the closest popular beach to Bangalore is probably Pondicherry Beach, and that’s over 300 kilometers away.

When planning a trip to celebrate my daughter’s first birthday, Malpe Beach in Udupi came to mind. However, the heavy downpour at that time of year made it difficult, so we rescheduled for the end of October, aligning with Diwali and Kannada Rajyotsava holidays. I was returning to Malpe after more than a decade. Last time, it was a solo journey; this time our entire family plus, Gokul and his family (Deepa and Akanksha) joined us. We had planned to book the Vista-dome train, but I was late rebooking, and all Vista dome seats were taken, so we switched to another, slower train.

On Diwali evening, we met at Bangalore city station. This station was originally called South Bangalore City (station code as SBC). Later, the name was changed to 'Bangalore City', then to 'Bengaluru City' and finally to 'KSR Bengaluru' couple of years back. The area near the place is called 'Majestic'. This came from a popular cinema theater of the same name once located there. The Uber driver dropped me off at the station’s back entrance and I slowly walked to the fifth platform. It was fully crowded, some eagerly looking at the tracks for train to come; couple of fathers playing with their kids, others glued to their phones, and a few staring aimlessly, as if searching for something profound. There wasn't many who were laughing. Looks like people are slowly forgetting to laugh.

Finally, the train arrived, and we settled in. Since I’d booked late, we got all middle and upper seats—far from ideal for two new mothers with one year old kid, let alone a seventy-year-old lady needing to climb. Fortunately, one guy didn't show up and another one shifted to upper berth. Alanksha, Gokul and Deepa’s daughter, was full of energy. She wanted to go to upper berth to be with her mother. The moment she reach there, she started crying for coming to her father's side(who is in lower). So Gokul take her to ground, now she will start crying to reach the upper berth. This activity repeated many times. Although this exercise provided Gokul with plenty of exercise, it was not reflected in his waistline. Fortunately, my little one stayed where she is. I silently prayed that she should not to cry till we reach Udupi!!!

I rarely sleep before midnight, but that night I fell asleep around ten thirty. By morning, light started creeping in to the compartment, waking me. I went to the door to see where we were. The train was an old metallic box, painted in a shade of yellow color, with a 72-seat configuration per bogie. I wonder why this color? can't it be something better? Outside, the trees glistened with mist and rainwater—a lush, misty landscape still miles away from the Subrahmanya Road station (SBHR) on the Hassan-Mangalore route. This is one of my favorite route, especially the stretch between Sakleshpur and Subrahmanya Road (a two-and-a-half-hour journey over 45 kilometers). After a while, we reached Subrahmanya Road, where temple-goers disembarked. We continued, crossed the mighty Netravati and reached Mangalore (a major port city in India's western coast). 

With a longer stop at Mangalore Central(10 minutes official and many more unofficial), we grabbed idli-vada for breakfast, and Gokul stocked up on onion samosas... There was nothing much to do other than either sitting in the seat or just walking up and down under hot sun in uncovered platform. Finally train started and started our journey through famed Konkan rail.

India’s western coast can be divided into three sections:

1. The Kutch and Kathiawar region with the Gujarat plains to the north.

2. The Konkan and Canara coast - Konkan stretches from the Daman Ganga River in the north to the Gangavalli River in the south; while Canara (or Karavali) goes from the Gangavalli river in the north to the Chandragiri River.

3. The Malabar Coast - Starting south of Goa and extending to Kanyakumari, includes the Canara Coast in historical context.

Most of the west coast, from south of Mumbai to Kanyakumari, has similar geography: a narrow strip between the Western Ghats and the Arabian Sea, blessed by the southwest monsoon and dotted with fast-flowing rivers. If you stay in anywhere in the western coast, then you won't find much difference (as far as geography is concerned) if you move to anywhere else in the coast. I spent some time standing by the train door, taking in the vibrant coastal landscape. Around noon, we finally reached Udupi, where two prepaid autos took us to our seaside hotel, ready for lunch.

At Malpe beach

After lunch, we strolled down to the beach, which was bustling with holiday crowds for Diwali and Karnataka Rajyotsava. Malpe Beach offers a range of activities for travelers — parasailing, banana boat rides, speed board rides, zorbing,  trips to St. Mary’s Island, and a sea walk along the fishing harbor’s breakwater.

The beach was relatively clean, with only a few scattered plastic bottles. Considering the holiday crowd, litter was minimal (probably due to regular cleanups). The beach road runs parallel, from Gandhi statue to Cochin Shipyard building. On the side there are two Paradise resort restaurants (with bar), probably one other restaurants, and numerous snack stalls selling sugarcane juice, spicy potato twists, sweet corn, ice cream, juices and chats. Near Gandhi statue, one can see a number of shops for tattooing; shops selling kids’ play items, and T-shirts, beach hats etc. Parking is ample, and for those looking for a drink, Paradise Resort has bars attached to two of their restaurants (not much other options for main dining), along with a few other options near Gandhi statue.

Finally, standing by the waves, I felt the ocean’s attraction pull once more. My daughter toddled happily in the sand, beach with endless horizon seemed the perfect place to celebrate. Rolling waves force was too strong for her little legs, so she stayed closer to shore. After a while, she wandered to the firm wet sand and found an empty ice cream cup let by someone. Her mother tossed it a bit further away, and our daughter gleefully toddled after it. Each toss led to another chase, and her laughter filled the air. Soaked in saltwater and sandy from play, we eventually pulled her out and walked towards hotel. By this time, sun was on his last leg of the day and about to start filling the western sky with his orange color - bidding farewell for one more day.

Niha walking in the water

Akanksha curiously looking at her hand

Arabian sea at night

As night fell and the beach grew darker, I found myself drawn back to the lively shoreline. A vibrant scene awaited on one end, with lights and sounds pulling me closer. I walked toward it, discovering an activity area bustling with energy. An automated bowling machine had been set up within a cricket net — participants could try their hand at batting. It seemed like the bowling speed could be adjusted, and the first player I saw had opted for fast-paced balls, swinging and missing often. His friend chose a slower setting, finding more success with it. After a while I moved on to see a children’s slide nearby, where young ones were gleefully sliding down, going back and then repeat... Each seemed perfectly lost in the moment, free from worldly worries. Next to them, a small group of kids bounced on a trampoline, while another, a 'bungee trampolin', remained unoccupied. Soon I found myself moving towards rolling waves, and glow of street lamps faded in the distance.

Standing close to the water, I watched as waves tirelessly redrew white line in air - couple of feets above the ground. There was a certain calmness hidden within the ocean’s restless rhythm. Up in the sky, a few lanterns drifted, lit by their last bit of fuel. Some people nearby were lighting these lanterns and releasing them into sky. Though beautiful to watch, once their fuel ran out, they would descend to the sea below, adding to the pollution. I wondered if they were biodegradable, though it seemed unlikely.

After a few quiet moments, I heard Gokul call out. He, Deepa, and Akanksha had arrived for a nighttime stroll. I headed back toward the crowd, catching up them and after a few minutes of chit chat I turned once more to the ocean. Gazing into the endless horizon, I began walking southward. In the moonlit waters, I noticed a pair of figures moving with the waves — two girls in black dresses, dancing laughing with joy. The waves keep on coming and the night grew older, and I, at last, headed back to our room, ready rest and waiting for a new day.

Sajeev

Elections, News, and the Never-Ending Circus of Religion and "Relevance" in Indian Media

India just witnessed a massive general election, and now Maharashtra and Jharkhand are ging to polls. Number of people participating in the mammoth exercise is staggering: around 12.23 crore (122.3 million) people are gearing up to vote in these two states alone. For perspective, that's twice the eligible voting population of Germany. As if that’s not enough, various constituencies from couple of other states are also headed for polls. But hold on, what exactly are these voters aspiring for? What’s going through their minds as they head to the booths?

Decades ago, political promises like roti, kapada, makan (food, clothing, and shelter) resonated well with them. Then came - mandal, mandir and masjid politics; later it was India shining based on the economic improvements as political slogan.  Fast-forward to today, and what matters? Well, if we go by the coverage on our major news channels, they’re essentially telling us that voters only care about… Hindu-Muslim conflicts.

Now, I’m no stranger to the daily dose of election news. At work, I pass through the pantry a few times a day, where two massive screens blast a popular Indian news channel in English. Over time, I’ve noticed a few “interesting” patterns in their current coverage of elections. Here’s a rundown:

1. Assembly elections are happening Maharashtra, Jharkhand is a kind of also ran  

   Sure, Jharkhand is also voting, but blink, and you’d miss it. Apparently, Jharkhand’s polling hardly merits a mention. It’s as if the state is merely a blip on the map-there, but not really “there.”

2. Mumbai = Maharashtra

   For the news channel, Maharashtra essentially boils down to the Mumbai metropolitan area. You’d think the other 34 districts of Maharashtra are barren wastelands, devoid of voters, or, heaven forbid, issues. It’s all about Mumbai, folks, because why cover the majority of the state when you have a glitzy metro to focus on?

3. Priyanka Gandhi in Wayanad makes the cut, sometimes  

   The sole exception to this myopic coverage? Wayanad. Why? Because Priyanka Gandhi is contesting there, in a seat previously held by her brother. Yes, this loksabha seat of Kerala, vacated by Rahul Gandhi, somehow finds a rare mention. 

4. Everything is a Hindu-Muslim problem 

   Every. Single. Issue. This is the baseline conclusion from watching the coverage. As far as these channels are concerned, voters have no other problems. No concerns about jobs, inflation, or healthcare—just the ever-present Hindu-Muslim issue looming over their heads.

5. Opinions from the Same faces, 24/7  

   Instead of giving airtime to actual candidates with stakes in these elections, we get an endless parade of party spokespeople talking in circles. Why interview people who are actually running in the election when you can have talking heads on repeat?

6. Balancing on bubbles of religion

   Got a minor, unrelated issue? Inflate it into a Hindu-Muslim conflict (or a Congress-BJP issue), and voila, you have hours of engaging prime-time debate. Remember, every tiny issue is just one twisted angle away from becoming a religious (Congress-BJP)) flashpoint.

7. Pointless religious debates round the clock  

   Late-night debates mean one thing: pulling in politicians to argue aimlessly about religion. No mention of critical issues like food security, inflation, or education. Because, really, who cares about those, right?

In the world according to this channel, Indians apparently live, breathe, and, yes, eat religion. They wake up to it, inhale it with their morning chai, and take it to bed. Issues like inflation, healthcare, or entrepreneurial opportunities? Mere background noise. Don’t worry if you’re going to bed hungry, can’t afford a doctor, or can’t get a loan to start a business. These things just don’t sell airtime like a good old-fashioned religious debate.

A wake-up call to national news (a.k.a entertainment?) channels

So, for those who claim to run “national” news channels, here are a few pointers I would like to mention,

1. India exists beyond Delhi and Mumbai

   Yes, there are actual voters in places other than New Delhi’s vicinity or Mumbai’s city limits.

2. People can’t eat religion  

   Contrary to popular belief, people don’t survive on religion alone. They have needs—needs that are probably a tad more important.

3. Voters outside metro cities exist, Too  

   Every Indian voter, whether they’re in a big city or a remote village, deserves equal coverage and concern.

4. Economy, environment, healthcare, and more—they are real issues 

   These topics exist. Really. The economy, climate change, hunger, and public health are all part of the complex fabric of people’s lives.

5. Studio debates don’t solve real problems

   Screaming matches from the comfort of a well-lit studio don’t exactly equate to problem-solving for the average citizen.

6. Experts do exist outside political circles  

   Ever considered inviting subject matter experts to talk about these issues? Some of us would appreciate a dose of informed opinion.

This obsession with religion and politics will only go so far. Sooner or later, viewers might just decide they’ve had enough and switch to something a little more, shall we say, relevant?

Sajeev