Most travellers to Vijayawada tell you they are there on work. It is, after all, an important industrial and IT centre of Andhra Pradesh and a city eager to get on with the business of change. But drive to its fringes, about 5 km away from the centre, and you find its ancient heart. So, at one moment, I was driving past Vodafone showrooms on MG Road and in the next, photographing a holy man with a flowing beard as long as the oldest vine of a banyan tree and as white as the Himalayas, praying to the river that courses through the city.The Krishna, one of the longest river systems of the country, is a powerful presence in the city. On the road from Hyderabad to Vijayawada, it runs along like a sea of blue. And by the time it has traveled 1,300km from Mahableshwar in Maharashtra to Hamasaladeevi in Andhra Pradesh and then Vijayawada, it turns from a muddy trickle to a mammoth python of water. With it, the Krishna brings massive amounts of silt and, therefore, fertility and affluence to Vijayawada. On the heels of prosperity has come industrialization. And to thank the almighty for the benevolence are the splendid temples that have come up along its ghats. My guide around town was Venkat, a 24-year-old lad, who told me with a cheeky grin that times are changing. So, now worshippers step out barefoot from a Mercedes-Benz.It was early in the morning when I drove towards the Amaravati and past the Prakasam Barrage that forms a lovely artificial lake. Here, too, devotees were busy at prayers, the saffron of their clothes enhanced by the soft rays of the rising sun.Once away from the city, it’s as if you enter a different, quieter world. I drove past banana groves and paddy fields as Kingfishers and Bartets darted across the road.The only traffic on the traffic consisted of vans carrying bananas and cycle-peddlers hawking guavas. Once in a while, a jeep would go by blasting devotional music and carrying pilgrims to Amravati. I stopped by a guava vendor hauling his ware on a cycle. As I haggled, the sounds of Dard–e–Disco filled the air. I looked around in surprise and saw him bring out a spanking new Nokia from the folds of his dhoti.The Amareswara temple is the second attraction in Amaravati and is a huge complex with many small shrines. The rear of the temple complex has a splendid view of the river. Little boats ferry pilgrims across the bank. The oarsmen have been replaced by outboard motors. Right next to the jetty are the bathing ghats, which are teeming with devotees most of the time. Amaravati’s primary attraction, however, is the 2000-year-old stupa that was built by Acharya Nagarajuna. Today, it is an important Budhhist pilgrimage. Closer to Vijayawada are the Undavalli Caves, which were built in the seventh century. There weren’t too many visitors when I reached there. The watchman was having his regular snooze. The views from the top of the caves of the spires of the Kanaka Durga Temple, by far the most popular temple in Vijayawada, are worth a look.I spent two nights in Vijayawada, exploring temples, caves, churches and museums and realized that behind its businesslike mien, lies a city at peace with the past and the present.(The author is travel correspondent for Autocar India)
