I had a longing to see Vrindavan Gardens. It was February, quite a pleasant month in Bangalore. The Karnataka State Transport Bus started early in the morning for Mysore. But before reaching the famous garden it stopped at a number of places – emporiums, temples, palaces, Shiva’s huge Nandi. All were fine – specially the palace of the Maharajas of Mysore which had life like statues of a number of Maharajas, Maharanis and their sons and Courtiers. It was in the evening that we readied Chamunda Hill from where we could see the whole of Mysore.

Down from the hill we readied the gardens before the sun set. The lights were not yet on and we could see the beautiful place in its sheer nakedness. Well above the garden there was the big dam, the first ever constructed on a river in India by a great Scientist and Engineer. Although it is not as big as the huge modern dams are yet my mind ran to the days when the modem building mechanism was not available. It was the brain child of the great architect whose statue stood victoriously in the middle part of the first phase of the garden. Visveswaraya is the great engineer.

Although there were steps I ran down a path by the side of the glimmering water ripples flowing down a colourful slope between two stair cases. Enjoying these ripples I was down the slope in a fairy land of flowers and beautiful groves. The whole flower bedecked set up was divided into small lawns. In the middle ran the canal from the steep fall. It could be crossed by a number of small bridges.

Then come the deep and broad, canal giving semblance of a lake that could be crossed either by a motor boat or a long but narrow bridge. On the other side lay a hillock again decorated with flowers and fountains. In the centre was the musical fountain. Now the lights were on and the whole setting had an angelic appearance. At seven the music started and the fountains in the centre rose up or came down with the tune of the music rising or falling. It was so enchanting that the crowd won’t recede.

But it was now time for us to go back. I enjoyed the dam water flowing on the left side of the gardens in its naked glamour just ignored by all who were lost in the pomp and glamour of the lights. The rough natural beauty was more enchanting to me than the colourful gay fountains that leaped all around and below the central artificial fall. All changed hues every minute. But the muddy water on the left flew on rugged base unpolluted by human eyes rushing to the seas.