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Solitude in Sankagiri
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It's a hard, lonely climb, but the fort at Sankagiri is at peace with its hoary past, says SUBHA J RAO
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I've passed by this place innumerable times en route to Salem, always wondering what the hillock rising beyond the rows of tiled houses had in store, but never stopping to explore. This time, I decided I'll come back.
After a 38-km drive from Salem, I take a right turn to find a dusty excuse for a road that leads to the foothills of Sankagiri, the conch-shaped hillock. Sharing the narrow road with me are six horse-driven jutkas, a mini-bus and impatient two-wheeler riders. Soon, I find myself near the fort, an Archaeological Society of India-protected monument.
Hoary past
The winding entrance, made up entirely of boulders, transports you to the time when Tipu Sultan and his forces kept the British at bay from this fort. It seems to be at peace with its hoary past and the only intrusion of the present is a blue iron door inside and an iron chain with a lock dangling from it.
The scent of camphor hangs heavy in the air — proof of the many religious-minded who undertake the more-than-an-hour trek to the hillock, which is home to three temples and two mosques.
From the entrance, it takes a little more than an hour to reach the summit provided you are fit. Sadly, I'm not and the trek teaches me a couple of things about myself. That I am not as fit as I used to be. My body starts groaning hardly 10 minutes into the climb.
This is one hillock where you have to fend for yourself. There are no railings and you have to depend on your feet and hands to not let you down on the shiny boulders, which double up as steps.
The only living thing doing this task comfortably is a lone goat which frisks about happily, unmindful of the magnitude of its achievement.
A wee bit scary
The solitude actually can get quite scary. Even the harmless chameleon scampering away on the hand-chiselled steps, polished over the years by human feet, looks capable of something sinister.
Heightening my fear is the smoking remains of a hastily put-together meal. I look around, but nothing meets my eye.
Further up, a cordial villager advises me not to continue the trek any
further. "There are ruffians up there," he warns and talks about two
murders that have taken place near the summit. I'm scared, but decide to walk up a little more. But the sun beats down my back and it's pouring rivulets down my face.
I finally succumb to the temptation to turn back without taking in the scenery from the top.
How to get there
Drive down from Coimbatore (135 km away) or bus it till Sankagiri. Take a rickshaw or a jutka to the foothills. They charge you about Rs. 15 for a one-way trip.
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