The heatwaves were shimmering ahead of us as we cruised along the vast stretch of straight, hot asphalt. The car AC on full blast was battling to keep us cool, but the dry northern Karnataka heat still managed to seep through the glass.
450 kms and about eight hours later, we were closing in on Kudala Sangama, the final resting place of one of Karnataka’s biggest social reformers, Basavanna. The 12th-century poet and philosopher led the Shiva-focused bhakti movement during the reign of the Kalyani Chalukya and the Kalachuri dynasties. He was also the chief minister in the court of King Bijjala II of the Kalachuri Dynasty. As we got off the NH50, a simple arch welcomed us into Kudala Sangama.
The village is seven kilometres from the highway. Clean roads, broad, well-maintained pavements and trees along the median were impressive and caught our attention at first sight. As the noise slowly faded behind us, we drove slowly and rolled down the windows for a fresh dose of soothing stillness. We checked into a 4-bed AC deluxe room for ₹2,300 at the Jain Darshan Yatri Nivas. There are cheaper options from dormitories to non-AC rooms and a costlier suite at ₹3,100 a night.
We headed straight to the river, which is a little more than a kilometre from the hotel. The huge Krishna was flowing calmly. We parked the car on the bank of the river and walked into the Kudala Sangameshwara Temple, a Kalyana Chalukya-style temple dedicated to Lord Shiva.
The locals were getting ready for their evening prayers. We walked down the steps to the designated bathing area of the river. The Sangama is considered auspicious in Hindu tradition, believed to wash off the sins, remove negativity and purify the souls, helping us move a step closer towards moksha. We relaxed in the cool water, watching the sun touch the horizon. The sky had turned orange, and the prayers had begun.
We changed into traditional clothes and took a ₹10 ticket to the viewpoint and Aikhya Mantapa, the final resting place of Basavanna. The well of the spiral staircase echoed the chants. Every vachana (poetic verse) Basavanna ever wrote culminated in his personal signature seal, invoking the presiding deity of this very spot, Kudalasangama. Standing at the edge, looking out at the waters, you can feel an undeniable harmony that the Lingayat faith believes in.
On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at Sangameshwara Lingayat Khanawali for the authentic jolada rotti oota. Everyone we met in this region is very friendly, makes you feel welcome and comfy, reminding us of Basavanna’s verse, Ivanarava, iva nammava, nimma maneya maganendenisayya (He is one of us, consider him your family). Every eatery prepares fresh mirchi bajji. It is important to note that the chilli they use is different from the one in South Karnataka; it is smaller and packs more punch. A hundred hot bajjis, fluffy susla and a satisfying meal later, we called it a day.
The next morning we visited the recreation of Anubhava Mantapa, considered the world’s first spiritual and religious parliament. It also has murals of Basavanna’s most important vachanas. Faint devotional songs from the temple reverberate with the breeze. We experienced how a slow, peaceful life can exist without the invasion of technology. The contentment will make you return for the same sacred quiet, for sure.
