Cradled by the pristine Sahyadris, where emerald hills gently slope toward the Arabian Sea and west-flowing rivers like the Nethravathi, Payaswini, and Souparnika cut through the land with quiet force, lies Tulunadu. It does not feel like a place you merely visit. It feels like somewhere you belong. Many first encounter Tulunadu through films like Kantara, but cinema only scratches the surface. This is a land far older than the screen, shaped by centuries of belief, memory, and living tradition. Spanning Dakshina Kannada and Udupi in Karnataka and Kasaragod of Kerala, Tulunadu may be divided by modern borders, but its people remain bound by a shared language, faith, and an unmistakable spiritual rhythm. As evening settles in and the light begins to fade, something stirs. The air grows still, almost expectant. Then comes the sound of anklet bells, sharp and unmistakable. This is the Gaggara, announcing the arrival of the Daiva. Here, divinity does not remain distant or abstract. It arri...