Of Gods, Gears and Ghee Roast · Shivani Illakiya

This week, we travelled down South to Coimbatore, to walk through where Greeks and Romans once traded, hear the iora’s haunting call, eat biriyani worth switching sides for, and so much more.

We got down at the Coimbatore railway station at the crack of dawn. Everything around us was full throttle. People darted across platforms, autos honked like there’s no tomorrow, and the faint smell of hot idlis and coffee hung in the air. We braced ourselves for a hectic weekend. But just a few minutes out, the whole town felt like it hadn’t woken up. The streets yawned, the shutters slept, and we were the only ones moving. Classic bait and switch.

About an hour’s drive later we pulled into Dvara, Siruvani. The brochure had promised a slice of heritage nestled in nature, and it did not disappoint. Dvara is set up like an ancestral home, with restored antiques, gabled tiled roofs, and doors that creak with history.

We checked into Malli, our charming cottage. The door was a short, heavy beauty from Karaikudi. It opened into a private pool and a cosy dining area. To the left was our air-conditioned room, decked out with paintings of Tamil folklore and deities.

Sliding doors at the far end of the room led to a private garden with soft grass and happy bushes. Beyond that lay a quiet stream and, further still, mountains wrapped in sleepy mist. A few birds lazily flitted about, as if they hadn’t clocked in for the day’s hunt yet.