“Bagamandala” the voice sang out in my head. I was going back to my roots, to my village after a long gap to 10 years.
Bagamandala a small village in the far end of Coorg district is the place I spent most of my childhood, with my grandparents.
Tall green mountains in the background, sparkling waters of river Kaveri cutting across, green paddy fields on one side of the road and rich coffee plants on the other
Hot steaming idly with coconut chutney sat still on the banana leaf waiting for me. Seeing ajji holding the jar of ‘midi opinkai’ (mango pickle) brought an instant smile on my face.
Steaming hot coffee in a dented steel tumbler added an extra joy to the break-fast.