Not all stories are lost to time. Some are lost to our own indifference or ignorance. Or sometimes, quite simply to a lack of awareness of their very existence. This is why some of us commit our time in their quest – to witness and preserve as many as we can in our might. This is why some of us are relentlessly restless to tell and retell stories.

On one such quest, Anegundi revealed itself to be a rather forgotten nook of the world that once revelled in being the seat of power of one of the most opulent Indian empires.

From being Vijayanagara’s first capital to today’s laidback town only a few kilometres from the more popular Hampe, Anegundi carves for itself a melancholic little place in your emotional map. It becomes a few verses for the songmaker in you, a few still frames of moving details for the imagemaker in you. It simply becomes a muse even if you are not a poet and that is the point of places like these – you get besotted by them as if they were new loves. Your heart is ready to be mauled by a bout of marvel you weren’t prepared for. A brutal thrill.

Anegundi— ‘elephant pit’ in Kannada — contains historical monuments and places that commemorate mythological stories, including what’s known to be Krishnadevaraya’s tomb and the Gagan Mahal, and the caves of Vali and Sugreeva. Just as Hampe, Anegundi, too is that enchanting blend of lore and facts, of eons that defy tedious certainties as well as documented timelines. While its fort, its ancient temples, its intermingled religious monuments, its man-made lakes are places you can visit with the help of modern maps, the town where today’s people live stands out as a thing of beauty in its own right.

It is when you amble down its alleyways of today that Anegundi embalms you with a curious insouciance. It is as if it has aged carefreely, without worrying whatsoever about any form of withering. It bears in its being a resigned grace, its present embracing its past as if to form a cascade that surges with a peculiar poise.

The stone houses with either their plain white quietude or the unexpected vibrant colours that evoke a sudden tingle. Wooden pillars adorning the jaguli, a space for only the house-dwellers but also anyone to find respite, to find rest from an unforgiving summer sun perhaps.

Doors. Colours seeped into wood, sometimes flawless in their smearing and sometimes pronounced by time’s flow. Sometimes moss-licked or lichen-loved. ‘Tarnished’ is hence never the word or idea that will come to you in the Anegundi of today.

Time is not only its own witness here.

Time longs to be seen in all these ways and more here.

Time talks to you here.

Anegundi of today is where a door half ajar leaves you contemplating – is it ruminating a goodbye or exercising forbearance that waiting demands?

Anegundi of today is where a narrow road suddenly forks into three narrower paths, one leading to a house, another to a women-led doll-making space, and another to a breathtaking opening to offer the view of Tungabhadra further down.

Anegundi of today is where you suddenly run into a little boy with a straw in his hand at a corner, a dried up line of curd from his lunch making him a little man with a moustache. It is where his gaze is so sharp that it makes you gasp.

Anegundi of today is where a decapitated Nandi statue still sits with its allure intact, or perhaps enhanced even.

Anegundi of today does not resent that it is somewhat cold-shouldered. It instead surprises you intensely with its unusual generosity should you have the heart to hold that strange disregard that we ourselves have subjected it to.

To that extent, Anegundi of today is beyond the ephemeral traces we humans leave and either remember or forget our own doings. Anegundi of today simply is. Like all of our dear, dear Earth.

Sourabha Rao

Sourabha Rao is a professional writer, poet, translator, former freelance columnist and voiceover artist, with literary proficiency in English and Kannada. She deeply cares about producing stories primarily on nature and wildlife, social issues, history and art. She strives to write truthfully and creatively in an earnest attempt to create content that educates and entertains, has impact, and mobilises positive social change. She has written op-eds and photo-stories for leading Kannada and English newspapers, and has collaborated with filmmakers in wildlife conservation and water conservation. Sourabha lives in Bengaluru, while a big chunk of her heart has stayed back in Mysuru, her forever-muse.

Aubades and Serenades in Anegundi

Sourabha Rao