But it snowed...

It’s been snowing profusely since last night. It has in fact been snowing since last year. I had lived in Amsterdam and had the great pleasure of encountering snowfall and ice accumulation through the winter. I remember the morning in December that year, when I got up to a rather ‘white’ welcome by the world outside of our house. It was a spectacular scene to behold. The world I had kissed goodnight to before going to sleep had all the colors: green, red, blue and so on. And boy, when I woke up, wasn’t it all colored white by an expert painter? The green fields, the roads, the balcony looked all the same. The beautiful canal (something that makes the Netherlands as wonderful as it is) in front of the house had completely frozen, and I could see ducks ‘walking’ on the hard surface. Welcome break for ducks and swans who must have gotten tired of only swimming! The small plants we had on the balcony had all disappeared under snow. Cars parked under the open sky had disguised. I had never seen something quite like that. The next few days would be full of fun.

I lived right across the road from the office, and hence I didn’t have to worry about braving the cold and the snow to travel to office. I would simply walk to work. The office had all of a sudden taken up a different look. It was glowing white. Once in a while I would peep outside of the office window and enjoy the sight of the snowfall. My friends in office were kids all over again. We would step out to the open area and play with snow, throwing snowballs at each other. All inside the office premises! We would click photographs and post on Orkut. Facebook wasn’t that popular in India back in the day.

Few years on, I find myself again caught up in the middle of snow. More snow than I’d ever seen before. The lowest temperature recorded in Amsterdam that year is considered ‘normal’ here; even by me! As it is, I don’t share a great rapport with cold. It usually gets the better of me. But Cincinnati has been a whole new experience for me.

When I boarded the flight from Chicago as the third leg of my journey from Bangalore, I was reminded of Europe again, especially of the inter-country low-cost flying experiences. The aircraft was small and mine was the first seat. It was so close to the cockpit, I could tell you I flew the plane! There was only one flight attendant who had an aspiring tummy popping out of his white shirt. This guy had a great sense of humor and he repeatedly made us laugh with his on-the-air ‘flying’ jokes. He kept my laptop bag in his own custody, because I didn’t have anywhere else to dump it.

Little did I know when I landed at the Cincinnati airport that it was actually not in the state of Ohio, but in Kentucky, the place where KFC was born. I got a taxi to take me to my hotel (Extended Stay America) in Covington. Call it my ignorance, I believed for two days that I was staying in Ohio, until my friend told me it was Kentucky. I realized that when I saw the Ohio River that bifurcates the two states. I was staying in Kentucky and coming to Ohio for work.

Soon I moved to Blue Ash. I started getting used to living in cold conditions. When some parts of the United States witnessed the coldest winter in twenty years, Cincinnati was hit too. Temperatures dipped to as low as minus twenty five degrees Celsius! The killer wind coupled with that made it feel lot worse. That was early January. The weather has improved since then. 

I was born and raised in a hot and humid place. Except for the winters when it could get reasonably cold, Agartala feels like a pressure cooker. Bangalore has made me a less heat-resilient person, and I faced the brunt of it when I spent few days in Agartala last year, in June. The problem with scorching summers is that you can wear the least number of clothes, but you can’t strip in the open. Winter in a way is better; you can wear as much as you feel is necessary. What if you look like a bulky astronaut walking on the snow, you could still feel protected! 

My Europe Days - Chapter 1

One incentive of my job is that I get to go places, meet new people, learn new cultures, and make new friends. Getting to know the unknown, hearing the unheard and seeing the unseen is quite thrilling. We, after all, have one life alone to experience the unexperienced!

It dates back to an afternoon quite a few years ago, when my then manager asked me if I’d like to take up an assignment in Amsterdam. ‘Of course’ was my immediate reaction! I mean, just how could I say ‘no’ to something I always wanted to happen but had not until then? As my travel date drew closer, I’d get goose bumps visualizing myself in Europe. As an ardent reader since an early age, I’d read so much about the glorious history of Europe; I had so many times felt the rise and collapse of the Roman empire; I could feel myself close enough through imagination to some of the fiercest battles fought on the European soil. And I was going to fly out to that continent in few days. That was incredibly unbelievable. For me, it was not about the clean roads or the pollution-free air or the nice people; it was all about the experience I thought was waiting for me.

I had an option to choose between New Delhi and Mumbai for my visa stamping formality. For no obvious fault of New Delhi, I chose Mumbai, where I had a pleasant stay in a Santacruze hotel. I had a whole day and a rented Maruti Esteem car to explore Mumbai, a city where my ladylove (who later became my wife) was born. She had told me about the hospital she was born in; only if I could trace that! The chauffeur of the car was originally from Tamil Nadu who along with his father had migrated to Mumbai when he was very young. With a great deal of energy, he kept driving me across the city and showing me places he thought I must not miss. The Chatrapati Shivaji railway station looked iconic and beautiful. Nariman Point was quite an attractive place, and what added to the beauty of the view was the gentle and occasional drizzle. It was not like a typical hot Mumbai day, which is why I didn’t mind frequently stepping out of the air conditioned car. The Marine Drive was a thing of beauty. I spent most of time at the gateway of India. I was being hounded by a battery of photographers who were as if born only to click me in front of the Taj hotel. I finally obliged one of them. I had to admire the architectural beauty of the hotel and the gateway of India. The Arabian Sea was graciously calm and I was among hundreds of tourists and locals who were appreciating the rippling water. I had some great food for lunch at an uptown mall whose name I cannot recollect now.

I had a rather smooth run at the Dutch consular office later in the afternoon. I remember my father had to travel from Agartala to Khowai, my place of birth, to get a fresh birth certificate issued by the authorities. One of the mandatory documents for the visa grant was a birth certificate not older than six months. When my father finally got one done and couriered it to me, I saw my first birth certificate as an adult! The office was too small to accommodate the large number of visa aspirants that had queued up there. I met few fellow professionals from my city, Bangalore.

Even though I was a veteran of the domestic sky, my only experience flying along international skies was between Kolkata and Agartala when the aircraft must hop across Bangladesh. The office travel desk worked with me and decided an itinerary; I would fly Air France from Bangalore to Paris and KLM from Paris to Amsterdam. Paris! The fashion capital of the world, the romantic city was going to be my first touch-point in Europe. Boy, wasn’t I excited?

As I collected my boarding passes at the Bangalore International Airport, I felt myself closer to Europe. As I walked to the immigration officer, I realized I was holding a passport that was still virgin; one last time! Facebook had not become a phenomenon in India yet and I didn’t have an account either. No Facebook ‘check-in’ you see. I however had an Orkut account, which was precious as a pearl to me! 

My dream flight did take off. 

Soon I was flying. The aircraft was bigger than any I’d boarded till then. The cabin crew was polite, looking well after my comfort and dining needs. I was served good food and quality wine. Most of my fellow passengers were Indians; there were some Westerners too. Gradually, I realized a nine and half hour journey could feel longer than it was with limited leg room in the economy class and nobody to talk to. Most people were sleeping; as if they’d never slept before! I envied them because oversleeping was something I couldn’t do. I read in-flight magazines, learned about places, watched movies and documentaries.

As I stepped out of the aircraft and set my foot on the European soil, I was welcomed by the French summer. It lasted a minute or so until I got into the airport bus. I had few hours with me, good enough to explore the Charles de Gaulle airport before my connecting flight to Amsterdam would take off. I felt sorry for an old Indian lady who seemed lost in the airport while she confusedly searched for the right terminal or gate for her onward flight to somewhere in the United States. She was soon attended to by an airline official who would guide her. I quite liked the airport. What was most fascinating to me was that I found myself in a sea of people who looked diverse, spoke different languages, and wore a variety of clothes. I was witnessing my being amidst all of them. That made me feel great. The duty free line of shops had a good deal of collection of items worth falling for. I don’t remember buying anything from there perhaps because I knew I could soon travel from Amsterdam to Paris on a short trip and buy things I wanted to at a much lesser price. I was happy not to have given in to the lure of all things glossy.

My experience with the Air France ground staff was thoroughly unpleasant. I felt I was being discriminated against – may be due to my skin color – going by the way they spoke, looked at me, frisked me, and joked at me. It was clearly not standard operating procedure, not because of what they asked me to do, but how they asked. I remembered reading about some passengers’ experiences with Air France who called the airline racist! I wouldn’t say I faced racism, but those officials certainly didn’t know the basics of politeness, and they didn’t know how to talk to the customer!

I boarded a much smaller aircraft for the next leg of my journey. I was seated next to the emergency exit. A member of the KLM cabin crew approached me and few others from another seat and asked, ‘Do you all follow English?’ We nodded, to which she explained the customary things we should do in the unlikely event of an emergency. It seemed like an Indian domestic flight except that I could hardly find any Indians onboard. It was around mid-day, making sure I had a great aerial view of Paris after takeoff. A very short flight it was and I soon descended on the Netherlands. The Schiphol airport was going to be a place I’d come back to quite frequently in the next many months. 

Now it was time for the Dutch summer. 

(to be continued...)

From the pages of my Kerala diary...

(Written in October 2006)

From the pages of my Kerala diary...

2 September 2006 Saturday: Day One

Roared my mobile phone, with the irritating sound of the alarm. If it was some other day, the mobile phone would have been ruthlessly punished. But this was the day to respond, not to punish. I got up from the bed, at 6:30 am.

At 7:45 am, my friend Srijith reached my place. At 8:30 am, our cab - the chariot for the journey - stopped outside my J P Nagar house, loaded with my friend Sounder. In 10 minutes, I was overwhelmed by the cab-driver’s (Manjunath) English. He could speak Hindi too. At 9:20 am, we picked up the last set of people: my friend Swapan, and his beautiful wife Arpita. That was my first meeting with her.

After having done with the breakfast formalities, at 10:20 am, the journey started. Our journey. My journey. I always wanted to explore the lush green Kerala beauty. And all the friends in our group had been planning for this trip, for a long time. The cab made a move from Bangalore city. All five of us looked at each other. A spontaneous smile was the obvious choice for us. That was the smile of patience, of dreams, of hunger, of urge. Destination: Wayanad in Kerala.

Swapan, being the only family man in the gang (Arpita was married too!), had brought all spicy eatables: chips, biscuits, water, soft drinks, chocolates etc. You name it, and Swapan had it. Sounder was sitting at the front seat. The Karmakars (Swapan and Arpita) had their family spread all over the middle seat. And glorifying the act of sacrifice, Srijith and I volunteered for the back seats.

The Tata Sumo was cruising along the smooth Mysore Road. Inside the vehicle were five tender dreams, merging gradually as we kept moving. Sounder was unanimously designated as the official DJ on the trip. He had brought along some English music cassettes. Swapan, who had immense hatred for English songs but an equal respect for Sounder’s choice, had brought some Hindi music cassettes. The contribution to the melody world was zero, from the back-benchers!

My mind was trying to read Arpita’s mind – she being a new joinee to the gang; the gang of so-called philosophers. It was normally Sounder and I who did the talking; Srijith was a good listener. The last thing we wanted was Arpita getting bored of our philosophic talks. She had done night-shift in office, and did not sleep at all. Sounder opened his DJ innings, with some old English tracks. The Karmakars were not impressed. So, after half an hour of English blues, Hindi songs took the driver’s seat. I started singing with the singers! Meanwhile, Manjunath the driver started displaying his knowledge in the fields of current affairs, politics, history etc. Soon his knowledge sharing turned into showbiz.

The Lunch

No one is wise on an empty stomach. At 2 pm, we stopped at a road-side hotel, for lunch. Arpita was a die-hard non-vegetarian. I was happy to get an equally ferocious partner. Srijith said, “I won’t have lunch. You people carry on.” All four of us got into the ‘non-veg’ section of the hotel. The air was heavy with smell of sea-fish. Srijith did not find that smell delighting, so he opted to wait outside. I decided to go for a veg meal. Swapan and Sounder followed suit. Arpita ordered rice and chicken curry. I don’t remember the name of that hotel. What I remember, however, are two attractive girls, seating at a nearby table! They had come in a group of young people. I told Arpita, “See, how beautiful the hotel is! I liked it.” “Oh yes, I understand,” was her immediate reaction, as she smiled and added, “We will have food right here, even while coming back. What do you say?” I needed to say nothing. She was an intelligent lady!

Done with lunch, we were about to get into the cab, when Manjunath, the scholar, suggested, “Why don’t you people take a photograph?” That was the first time he spoke sense. We got the first two photographs of our trip.

Mysore came. Mysore went by. The excitement was getting bigger. The dreams were rising to new heights.

“Wow! Look at that.” Almost all of us shouted, together. Manjunath had to stop the vehicle. On both the sides of the road, were fields with thousands of Marigold flowers. We took some snaps there.
Sounder, Srijith and I continued our talks on philosophy. Swapan, as usual, spoke in his favorite language: the language of silence.

The Forests

Then came the forests. And with the forests, came the smell of fresh green air. We could sense the purity in the air. An air which is missing in Bangalore. Manjunath, the wild life expert, was trying to show how much he knew about the forests. We saw quite a few monkeys – some on the road-side, some on the trees. The little girl in Arpita came out in appreciation of the monkeys, as she peeped out of the window, took some snaps, and kept saying “so sweet, so cute”. How could her husband be left behind? But as usual, Swapan had his own way of paying tribute to the monkeys, reminding us “they are but our ancestors.”

The moment of reckoning came for all of us, when we entered the Kerala territory. It was so special a moment for me; a moment I had waited all my life for!

Muthanga Forest

Manjunath suggested, “We are heading towards a reserve forest. If you want, you can take a gate-pass, and enjoy a ride. They have their own safari.” For a change, we liked his suggestion. We parked our Tata Sumo outside the ‘Muthanga Forest’ gate. Srijith, the unofficial treasurer (mind you, Kerala was his own country; so he was the local god), got the tickets.

We saw a few Mahindra Jeeps standing on the other side of the road. The Jeeps were open on both the sides, apparently to allow the passengers a good view of the wild life. I told Swapan and Arpita, “By looking at the vehicles, one comes to the conclusion that there won’t be any cheetahs of tigers. Or else, the vehicles would have been well-guarded.”

We boarded a Jeep, this time Srijith sat next to the driver. He, as the only member in the gang who knew Malayalam, decided to have a chat with the Jeep-driver, to get a clear idea of the watchable, in and around Kalpetta, our final destination in the Wayanad district. The driver’s colleague, who was wearing a khaki uniform just like the driver’s, stood at the back of the vehicle, watching out for any prospective animal, behind the bushes.

The forest was moderately dense, and the road we were traveling on, was bumpy. I knew, animals would not be foolish enough to come close to our Jeep, and show us their sparkling teeth with a photogenic pose. Arpita complained, “If I can’t take some good snaps of animals, I will ask for a refund of the camera-charges.” She was kidding though! Suddenly, the man in khaki at the back, signaled the driver to stop the vehicle. “What happened?”, all of us wondered. The man replied in Malayalam, and Srijith translated, “He has spotted some deer.” We stepped out of the vehicle. Beyond the trees, we saw a group of deer. They were here to drink water, and they did not like our intervention. Showing utter disrespect to human civilization, they disappeared. I could not take even a single snap. The humans were again outsmarted and outpaced, by the wild animals. We, however, took revenge by getting ourselves photographed by the khaki-clad man.

The safari resumed. We could manage to see a few monkeys. That probably was mother nature’s consolation package for us. Arpita suddenly wanted to stand at the back of the Jeep. She did, and Swapan, the good husband, held her by the legs. Five minutes passed, and I was also standing next to Arpita. The view of the jungle from top of the Jeep was really thrilling. I felt like being on a mission: a mission to nab the terrorists hiding in the jungle. The terrorist came in the form of a wild elephant. Our vehicle stopped. The big animal glanced at us, Arpita’s camera-shutter made a gentle noise. The giant did not feel happy. It made a big noise; not sure if it was a yell, a shout, a scream, or a threat.

Later I told Swapan, “You missed the view from the top.” “No”, he said, “I have seen it through my wife’s eyes.” Oh… Love!

Manjunath was caught taking a nap on his seat, when we came back.

Sulthana Bathery was the next town, on our way. It looked like a busy marketplace. Manjunath, the historian, wanted to put up a blazing display of his depth in the history of that place. By then, we realized the best way to silence an irritating person was to pardon him. And the best way to pardon was to ignore. Srijith kept asking people on the way, about what he had learnt from the driver in Muthanga forest. There was a unanimous decision to go to a dam which was at Karrapuzha.

Karrapuzha Dam

We reached the dam at around 6:30 pm, the twilight time. It was here that I realized the meaning of the word ‘serenity’.

It was a lake. On one side of it was the dam, on the other stood the hills. And cloudlets were resting in peace on the lap of the hills. The water was so pure, so still, so natural. The panorama made me realize that the beauty of nature goes beyond photography, beyond painting, beyond adjectives. You cannot capture it, even with the highest means of creativity. I felt as if I had never touched water, as if I had never seen clouds, as if I had never breathed. I never knew beholding could be so fulfilling. Never had I known surrender could be so spontaneous. Yes, I surrendered to the nature mother. “Oh mother! I surrender to thee. Accept me, or kill me.”

I walked down to lake, sat, and touched the calmness of the water. It was the touch of eternity. It was the touch of immortality. I stoop up, spread my hands on both the sides, and declared loudly, “Hey, I have touched this water. Now I am immortal. I can’t die. I can’t…” As I looked at the horizon, I told my friends, “See, we have all the basic ingredients here. We have land, we have soil, we have water, we have sky, and we have clouds. Can we ask for more?” This question did not require an answer. I gave that place, a new name: Heaven.

On our way back to the vehicle, I said, “Arpita, I would love to come back to this place, with my would-be girlfriend.” Sounder jokingly commented, “A girlfriend would go to the pizza-hut, not a dam.” Srijith completed the sentence, “And the last thing we want is a pizza-hut near this dam.”

The Hotel

Our next destination: a hotel at Kalpetta town. In the vehicle, I declared, “My Kerala trip is a success. Even if we do not see any other place, I’d be happy.” Srijith said, “This dam does not find a mention on the website or on the tourism map of Kerala.” I said, “We should be thankful to the government, for ignoring this place. We found nature in its raw form, without a touch of commercialization. Or else, we would have found a pizza-hut here!”

We entered Kalpetta town. It was time to search for a decent hotel. Before setting out for this trip, our mantra was comfort, not luxury. We could not manage even a single room, after trying in quite a few hotels, thanks to the Onam festival! Finally, we settled for a good hotel: Affas. We got two rooms on the second floor: one for the Karmakars, and the other for “the three gods”, as we called ourselves. The room-rents were quite ok: Rs 675 for their room, and Rs 275 for ours.

After taking rest for some time, and refreshing our tired limbs, we went downstairs to the hotel’s in-house restaurant for dinner. I was not very hopeful about Kerala dishes, so decided to go for chicken. Arpita joined in chorus. Interestingly, they served hot (read it lukewarm) water. Even the water-jug was hot. Upon interrogation, Srijith revealed, “That’s unique about Kerala hotels. You need to specify that you want ‘cold’ water.” He was quick to add, “Don’t ask me why!”

So, the day one ended on a hot note!


3 September 2006 Sunday: Day Two

By eight in the morning, we were in the Tata Sumo. We had breakfast at our own Affas Hotel. The plan for the day was ready. First, we would go to Pookot Lake; from there we would head towards the Edekkal caves followed by any nearby waterfall. And we would love to end the day at the Karrapuzha dam.

Pookot Lake

The way to the lake reminded me of my own country: the beautiful North-East of India. Tea gardens on the slopes on both the sides of the road. Srijith, who spent his childhood at Calicut in Kerala, was very excited to see the gardens. “Oh, look at this… look at that,” is how he was responding to the beauty of nature. Sounder was busy with his world of philosophy, observing nature with a smooth silence, introspecting and realizing the truth of life. Arpita was taking photographs from inside the moving vehicle. Swapan was showing her the sights.

At around 9 am, we reached Pookot lake. Srijith collected the gate-passes. It was a very beautiful lake. I looked and looked. The water was pure, and it was surrounded by trees, bushes. I did not know how to swim, but water, in all its forms and shapes, has always attracted and fascinated me. I took two snaps.
Boating was a unanimous decision. Swapan was an exception, though. He suggested, “You all take a four-sitter boat. I’ll enjoy from here.” Arpita wanted, but failed to convince him.

Srijith collected the boat tickets. We learned that it would take another 20-25 minutes for them to ready the boats. Srijith proposed, “Why don’t we take a walk along the circumference of the lake?” It was a rusty road, but had its own charm. On our left was the lake, and on the right, it was a jungle. It was so quiet, we could hear only our footwear’s sound. On the left, we saw a few trees and plants, and some of the branches were half-immersed into the water. Some of the branches attracted Arpita. She wanted to stand on them, above the water. Interestingly, the only person who knew how to swim was the local god, Srijith. He volunteered for this stunt. He stood on the bent body of a tree, and posed for a photograph. The next person to walk the ramp was Swapan’s better half. Srijith did not have to show his swimming skills. Thankfully!

We resumed our walk. I told Arpita, “Imagine an Anaconda emerging from within the water; or a Python hanging from the branches of a tree!” Arpita was excited, “Wow, that would be simply marvelous.”
I was enjoying my walk so much, that I spread my hands, and declared, “Oh, after so many years of my existence, today, I realized how beautiful my mother, my nature mother is. Life is beautiful. It indeed is.”

After the round-trip was over, we got ready for the boat-ride. Sounder felt that the laws of buoyancy would not permit Srijith to save all three of us, in case of a boat-capsize. And to have love for one’s life was no sin. So, our man got a colorful life-jacket, and chose me to help him wear it. I tried, and failed. Sounder finally took it off. Like a man would, anyway! Before that I had noticed a girl, who was looking at me. I felt, even to help someone wear a life-jacket, was against the dignity of a man!

We, minus Swapan, got into an orange color paddle boat. Sounder and Srijith sat on one end. Arpita and I were balancing the boat from the other end. It was quite an interesting ride. I kept touching the water. After half an hour of paddling exercise, we came back to Swapan. We spent some time at an open-space cafeteria.

Though the lake was a bit commercialized, nature was present in almost its entirety.

The Edakkal Caves

Next destination: the caves, the Edakkal caves. I was advised that ‘Edakkal’ in Malayalam meant ‘a rock in between’.

On the way to the caves, we stopped the vehicle at some places, for photo-shoots. The Karmakars were almost done with their camera roll (yeah, none of us had a digital camera!), so they had to buy a new one. I was very excited about seeing the caves. Would I find a long underground tunnel, with ancient scripts scribbled on the walls? My imagination was at play!

At around 11:15 am, we had to park our vehicle. The caves were at the top of a hill, and they would not allow our vehicle to scale the height. There was the choice of a Jeep-ride though. The million dollar question was, “Arpita, can you walk till the summit, or shall we hire a Jeep?” The iron lady silenced her critics with a beaming confidence, “Walk.”

It was a rusty zigzag road, and a little steep. The three gods were marching forward, forming a human chain, at times. Sounder definitely was not a born athlete. But he was trying to make it up with enthusiasm. Swapan and Arpita were following us, from a distance. As we approached the caves, Arpita’s steps started getting tired. We asked, “Shall we take a Jeep?” She refused, “No, I can manage. It’s so much fun, you know!” It is not often that you find this sporty spirit in the fairer sex. “Hats off to you lady”, I said, silently. Swapan was at his supportive best, giving her reasons to laugh, with his pranks.
The scorching sun was challenging us.

At a road-side open air stall, we sat for 10 minutes. My friends had lime juice. The owner of the stall and his colleagues were extremely polite, and their hospitality swept me off my feet. How beautiful human beings could be! They portrayed an image of timeless happiness. When was the last time I had seen this happiness on the face of Bangalore?

At long last, we reached the entrance to the caves. There was a ticket counter, in between some big rocks. They were charging Rs 25 per camera. We decided to enter the caves with only Swapan’s camera – his being the best in terms of performance. Interestingly, cameras were costlier than humans, at the ticket counter!

We entered the caves. It was like a hall, with big rocks, and a very thin stream of rain-water running across the hall. I realized it was not the typical ‘one-tunnel’ cave that we see in movies, or read in detective novels. It was going to be a cave with a difference – a cave that was the result of accumulation of hundreds of mammoth rocks, on and around a hill. And after evolution for thousands of years, the caves had taken that unusual shape. We could see the sky through a triangular hole on the roof. They had installed some artificial stairs to help people climb. The climb started for us.

For Swapan, the physical dimension of an adventure was not a very important quotient. His better half was more excited than anyone else. And he, like a good husband, was helping her climb the rocks, and the stairs. I cracked a joke, “Behind every successful woman, there is a man; and the name of the man is Swapan Karmakar.” Srijith predominantly was leading the gang. Sounder was not very confident physically, but his mental toughness compensated for that. We reached a plane base where Swapan and Sounder decided to call it quits. The spirit of adventure was more than alive in Srijith and me; and of course in Arpita. Swapan, however, succeeded in persuading her not to climb any further. She gave in.

The phase two started for Srijith and me. That was a little difficult climb because there were no man-made stairs. There came a very low shade, and we had to crawl like babies. When we stood up, and looked straight, it was beauty unfolded, unplugged. We were standing at a great height, and we could see beyond the line of horizon. We could see green fields. We could see hills. It was the feeling of having risen above time when nothing except what was in front of our eyes mattered to us. I saw life through a prism never known to me! Srijith asked, “Shall we reach the top of the hill?” It was a romantic idea, but I said, “Even I want to climb. But we need to climb down too. So, it would be double the distance.” We decided to come back. Some things are better left unexplored. Or else, there wouldn’t be a ‘next time’!

Arpita was enthusiastic to know, “Hey how was it? How was the view?” I tried to make her feel jealous, “Oh, you won’t believe… It was out of the world.” There was a man next to us offering a binocular view to tourists. I was interested and looked through his mammoth binocular. I saw an unbelievable horizon as he kept explaining (though in Malayalam!) about things that eluded the naked eye. “Look at that… the Phantom Rock… the Karrapuzha dam…” Oh, the Karrapuzha dam, the ‘heaven’. We would have to go there as well.

To our left was a big iron-gate. I asked,” Do you guys want to go inside?” Swapan informed, “We’ve already covered that… when you two were climbing up.” Srijith and I entered through the gate. It was a cave. We looked at the walls that had a lot of pictures all over them. I could not resist my temptation of touching history. The touch of timelessness!

“Please don’t touch the walls”, came a caution. It was a bearded middle aged man, wearing blue jeans, and a cap. He looked like an official at the caves. “Let me show”, he continued, “look at this. It is the leader of the village; this is a woman; a dog; a deer; an elephant; the sun; a flower…” Oh, it was so beautiful. I instantly traveled thousands of years backward. I found myself amongst all these – a village leader, his wife, his animals, his garden. Oh, how satisfying the journey against time was!
There were some ancient scripts also. I asked Srijith, “Do you find any similarity with the Malayalam script?” “No” was his answer. I said, “Imagine, thousands of years ago, humans used to live here, to protect themselves from all dangers. And today, we are standing here.” I looked at the top, and saw the catchiest scene. It was a mammoth rock right on top, which had got stuck in between the walls of the cave. It was an absolute beauty. I tried to explain, to myself, this phenomenon. In the last thousands of years, we have had many earthquakes, and other geological transformations. This giant rock, one day, had been somewhere else, might be on top of the hill, if at all the hill existed that time. Then the rock started rolling down, and down, and finally got stuck. I told Srijith, “Imagine, another one thousand years down the lane, another batch of people might stand beneath this rock, and wonder about this giant. Oh mother nature…”

Later, Sounder explained why this place was called Edakkal: ‘a rock in between’.

Srijith had a cramp in his leg. “But I can manage a walk,” declared the wounded soldier, “it’s a matter of 15-20 minutes, I’d be just fine.” I offered him, my shoulders. We pampered ourselves with some much-needed rest at the same open-air stall. My friends enjoyed another round of lime juice. On the way back to our Tata Sumo, I said, “Arpita, I want to thank you for being such a lovely trip-partner. Before meeting you, I had certain elements of fear in me. The fear was: what if Swapan’s wife did not cooperate with our adventurous spirit?  Now I know, the fear was baseless. Thank you.” She smiled. Swapan said, “We’ve traveled a lot of places, and she has always been a tough lady.”

At the base of the hill, where our vehicle had been parked, there were two emporium shops. Arpita and Sounder purchased a few items.

In the vehicle, we realized, the chances of making it to the Karrapuzha dam, were looking very slim. Time was not on our side. Still we did not lose hope. The plan was: after lunch, we would go to Soojipara waterfall. If we found it interesting, we would sacrifice the dam.

Before all this, I need to talk a little about the lunch. I am sure, Sounder would be the last person to forget that lunch!

The Lunch

It was a reasonably decent restaurant in Kalpetta town. Srijith, Arpita and I ordered chilli chicken. Sounder, a pure vegetarian since birth, ordered 'meal'. So did Swapan. Food was served. I started enjoying the chicken pieces. All of a sudden, Sounder expressed his willingness to land into the virgin territory. "I want to taste chicken." This ambitious wish took us by surprise. I was delighted, though. As an ardent chicken lover, I felt duty-bound to help the non-veg family grow. Sounder picked up a tiny chunk from my plate. All four of us looked at him. Sounder all of a sudden was in the limelight. As if we were all journalists and lensmen, who had gathered to witness and capture, history being made. As the piece of chicken approached his confused yet ambitious lips, his face looked like a canvas. A canvas of dream, of disgust, of freedom, of recklessness. Finally, record books were re-written. Sounder Rajan became an instant non-vegetarian hero. He lost his proud virginity! How often do you get an audience to witness this feat?

It was time for a great discovery. The hero, this time, was Swapan. He found a piece of chicken in what was believed to be a veg dish. Swapan, apparently, had quit meat consumption, a year ago. Arpita tasted, and her verdict was clear, "This definitely is meat." Sounder, who was enjoying the gravy part of that dish, froze. We lodged a complaint. The supervisor, however, enlightened us and that made us believe we were mere tiny particles in the universe not knowing any damn facts and figures. First, it was sea-fish, not meat. Second, 'meal' in those restaurants meant 'fish-meal', and we would have to specify 'veg-meal' to get what we wanted.

In ways more than one, that lunch was quite memorable!

Soojipara Waterfall

In the morning, Swapan had asked us to carry extra clothes. Taking a splash or a bath was in our mind. A splash in (not necessarily under) the waterfall!

The ride to the Soojipara waterfall was a delight. Tea estates on both the sides; interesting gossip inside the vehicle; some brilliant Hindi songs from the music player. I rendered my voice to make the solo songs sound like duets. It was a slightly steep road, and we were reaching the top of a hill. To our disappointment, a giant bus was spotted stuck on the narrow road, the road that was to lead us to the waterfall. We waited for some time, because it was too narrow a road for our Tata Sumo to overtake the bus. We eventually decided to take a walk, asked Manjunath to move up once the bus was rescued, and to pick us up on the way. He was explained in two languages-- Tamil and English.

We started walking, with small bags carrying our clothes. After a while, the bus seemed to have been rescued as we spotted Manjunath coming from behind. But surprisingly, he did not stop by our side! He fast disappeared, leaving us screaming behind. We wondered, "How can that stupid fellow be so stupid? Did he not understand our words?" We had to walk for another ten minutes, which was enough for Arpita, to launch an assault on Manjunath. We found him at the parking zone, on top of the hill. We realized that Manjunath the great speaker was a poor listener.

We wanted to rest for a quick while and enjoy some fruit juice at a stall. It was 5 pm. As we started walking towards the waterfall, we again found the rhythm of nature, untouched by governments, and by advertising agencies. The road was a little rusty. On the right, was a valley, almost eclipsed by green trees. Our philosophy talks reached the peak. The philosophy of life, the truth of life! I said, "Srijith, you are not very philosophic, not at least theoretically. But it's strange how you find Sounder and me interesting." Srijith said, "Yes, that's true. Initially, even I used to wonder.” I said, "I might have the answer, I guess. Once upon a time, I used to read a lot, and Sounder reads even today. So, our theory part was strong very early in our life. For you, it was the opposite. You did not read any such books as a kid, but you always had a thinking mind. You had the courage to say 'no'. After meeting us, you've found your voice in us. All these years, you had the thoughts, but not the words." Srijith said, "Yes, this definitely is the reason why I like the company of you two."

Very soon, philosophy made way for the roaring sound of the waterfall. I told Arpita, "The sound reminds me of the movie Anaconda."

Finally, we reached our destination. It was a very furious waterfall, jumping from a great height, with a menacing flow, and then making its way downwards, playing with the rocks. How appealing nature could be! The waterfall did not try to tempt me; it did not go any extra mile to attract me. It was simply busy with its daily activities. Still I fell for it. I removed my t shirt and decided to climb down the slippery rocks, till the base of the waterfall, and do a little bit of adventure. Srijith was ready to join me in action. Sounder was a little doubtful about the adventure part of it. As a citizen of this democratic country, Arpita had the right to expression. She exercised her right. But unfortunately for her, Swapan too was an Indian national. He expressed his unwillingness to take part in the adventure. He told Arpita, "It's extremely dangerous. Try to understand. We'll enjoy the view from here." She was not interested in Swapan's philosophy though!

But two minutes later, as I touched and immersed my legs into the water, the Karmakars were seen standing right on top. Sitting on the rocks, I tried measuring the depth of the water. My legs reached nowhere near the ground. Srijith and I had to literally shout, to hear each other. Such was the noise of the waterfall. Meanwhile, Sounder also touched the water.

I wanted to go to the other side of the waterfall. So, my investigation started. At the end of all that, I realized I had enough love for myself, and life was too beautiful and precious. I could reach the other side of the waterfall, but a return would be doubtful. The benefit of doubt went in favor of my life. Even Srijith was happy with that wise decision. The three gods came back to a smiling Swapan, and a slightly disheartened Arpita. We started walking back to the vehicle. Arpita was too tired, so we had to stop on the way. Swapan was sharing with us, their experiences of trips to Vaishno Devi and some other dangerous places.

It was 6:45 pm, when we came back to Manjunath's Tata Sumo. Karrapuzha dam was out of focus, though not out of mind.

The journey back to the hotel was an engaging one. It was less philosophy, and more lazy gossip. One marvelous discovery was the ill-effects of TV serials. The finding was: because of TV serials, half the population did not take food on time, which led to an unhealthy population, which in turn resulted in India's poor performance at the Olympics. Srijith said, "The TV serials run for ages." I tried to explain, "It's because of the invincible weapon called plastic surgery." We, however, spared politics. Arpita maintained silence, which made us happy. She had every right to protect the feminine sentiments that are believed to be associated with the daily soaps on TV.

The Karmakars initially had plans to go for shopping, but by the time we reached Kalpetta town, the idea was dropped. We reached our hotel at 8 pm. It was a tired gang of people. Arpita apparently did not like the previous night's dinner. She said, "I don't want to have dinner at the same restaurant. Can we enquire if Affas serves any 'paneer' item?" We checked, and the answer was an emphatic 'yes'. After taking rest for some time, Swapan knocked at our door at 8:45 pm. I decided to skip my dinner, mainly because of the heavy assault I had blown on my stomach, at lunch. Srijith and Sounder planned to get their dinner packed, and have it in the room later. Swapan and Arpita gave company to each other.
Meanwhile, our philosophy talks gathered momentum. For the first time, it was Srijith’s  turn as the speaker. Our discussions continued beyond two in the morning. It was a long night, and the soul-searching innings was a memorable one.

That was to be our last night in Kerala!


4 September 2006 Monday: Day Three

The Voyage Back Home

The inevitable happened. At 6:20 in the morning, our voyage took a U-turn.

With loaded memory-cells, we began our comeback. A comeback that nobody would ever want. After kissing the serenity of nature, it was time to come back to the world of traffic signals and plastic smiles. A world where every morning starts with a new ambition of out-witting a fellow-human; and every sunset is linked to someone's dreams getting shattered because someone else was more ambitious. A world where 'love' is the most talked about, yet the least practiced form of human emotion. Where confusion is the most widely accepted state of mind. Where recklessness is called freedom. Where spontaneity is the last word. Where the humans are like the trees that have lost their roots, but the branches try to reach beyond the known layers of the skies. Where you smile since others want you to; you eat when others feel hungry.

But….

By 12 noon, we came back to Bangalore city. Back to the world we live in. There may be tears, bloodshed, and ruthlessness. But this is the face of our world, our own world. It might be artificial, but we need to learn to live with all this. Nature is present in every artificial entity too!

Like I’ve always believed: escape is an illusion!

The Kerala trip helped me realize the biggest, yet the most neglected truth of life: "I am what I am."
There could possibly be no realization or understanding beyond this point of truth. The truth of life!

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