Tryst with Jog

For as long as I can remember, Jog Falls has been the staple of our literature, movies and tourism promotion. Everybody here has heard it, though it is unlikely that every Kannadiga (i.e us) has seen it. Poor them.

In the yaer 2007, the monsoon tore the skies to unleash a merciless bombardment that was the fiercest in a generation. Whole districts disappeared under cyclonic carpet bombing. Swollen rivers swept misery into thousands of homes. Elsewhere, the ‘horror’ was bewitching.

Jog was in full bloom. The media beat up a frenzy around its charms. I lost no time.

An overnight journey from Mysore saw me reach Jog at around 6:00 a.m August 12. Refreshed and full of anticipation. But. The billowy sentinels of the heavens, held the Sun back. The renowned Jog was an enormous pit of mist. O! Jog T, she was not ready yet…perhaps dressing up behind the mist. All I had before me was promise – her roar. The invisible roar whetted my impatience.

Then it happened. The veil of mist parted. River Sharavati – lithe and pure – dived for her morning dip. It was a Revelation. God might look like this.

With a broken arm in cast and the other holding the camera, I rushed down the steps hoping to get a closer look.

The mist and the spray from the splash would concede only tantalizing peeps. Around me, the freshness was everywhere – in the cold air, green sprouts all over the slopes, moist mud barely holding the steps in place. You can forget anything here.

I never reached the bottom – halted by rain and near zero visibility due to spray. And then the torrential rains made their appearance…I let it soak me for an hour!! This beauty was due to water and I wanted to soak it through every pores (inevitably, even the cast).

Thank God.

(It was my first taste of the beauty of a waterfall. Guess what, Jog is one of the top waterfall in the world for scenic beauty. The more famous Niagra Falls doesn’t qualify for this league at all).

~ by swaps on January 7, 2008.