Tag: favourites

Peeping Through

It was one of the best days of my life. I had crossed the border and into Nepal. I took off alone to explore while my team devoured on souvenirs in the shopping zone.

It was a cold evening, and I was all covered up in a sweater and heavy boots. As I went on, I came across a Hannuman temple. It looked rich, golden, and deserted. I wasn’t sure if I could go in, so I lingered walking around the vicinity taking photos.

The temple was guarded by a huge metal gate, walking to it, I saw a narrow opening through which I saw Hanuman standing in all glory.

hanuman-temple-pasupatinagar

Drama Queen

Some say the world will end in fire
some say in ice
some call him a poet,
some call him lunatic
consulting he thinks he does
pissing people off as he goes
he’d seem so stern
and make you yearn
he’d tread smooth as shadow
but looks more like a strut
he’s a bot, a robot, a heartless wretch
just give him his violin to shut him up
he’d pull his collar up sans reason
show off his scarf whatever season
stands straight the slender snowman
scoffs at the opinions of other men
he’d play with criminal minds
break hearts as the game goes
The friend calls him drama queen
it’s Sherlock, obviously, he’s mean.

There’s a Lake in Kodaikkanal

When I sat waiting for my tea in a restaurant by the Kodaikanal lake, I didn’t know the lake staring at me was artificial.

I later learnt that most tourists assumed the lake was a natural phenomenon, when in fact, it was created during the British reign by the Collector of Kodaikkanal, Sir Vere Henry Levinge.

kodaikkanal lake

I’ve seen a lot of lakes since, larger and more natural lakes than that one, but the thought of it still amazes me. It was like Coleridge said,

“Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink.”

And just then, it started to rain. It was the monsoon season, and rain would come and go as she pleased. It was cold enough already, and the rain made me turn towards the kitchen to see if my tea was ready yet.

My tea and samosa arrived, and I welcomed the puff of steamy air that blurred my glasses. I sipped my tea and bit into the samosa. And some of the spiciest and heartening mashed potato masala landed in my mouth. I took a second sip of my tea and warmed up me from the inside as it trickled down my throat.

I looked at the lake, watching drops of water scattering ripples through the surface. It wasn’t a heavy rain, and I could see a few boats rippling through the lake.

Kodaikanal is a famous honeymoon spot, and sure enough, there were couples paddling away, while thousands of tiny fish surfaced for seaweed and breadcrumbs.

A few others – the restaurant folks, by the look of them — threw nets into the lake, trying to catch fish. The kitchens seemed to have run out of fish pretty fast.

I finished my snack and we retraced our way to the hotel. We had to drive around the lake for at least half hour. It was a centre hub, around which countless locals went about their chores while tourists shopped for fancy bead chains and souvenirs.

The lake spans 60 acres. As we drove on, we reached a part of the lake that seemed dented in one place. Somehow, the people who created the lake didn’t like flawless ovals.

The entire lake seemed like a giant’s idea of a puddle, and as if someone had made an awful lot of mess in one corner.

By the time I reached the hotel, I had been among such serenity that I felt satiated; eyes, soul, stomach, and all.

The Unexpected

I’ve spent many a night waiting for the sun to rise. I’ve always wanted to be the first one to welcome the sun as it discarded its canopy of black velvet, reaching out to the skies.

It was a treat well worth the wait. I’d wake up earlier than the earliest birds and head to the terrace to watch the glory unfold in front if my eyes. I would be happy just looking at the sky turning from deep blue to purple to pink and then orange and then a deeper shade of orange until the sun was all out.

But then one day, I got a little more than I had asked for. I caught the moon lingering just before the sun was set to take over. It had been a full moon the previous night, and it’s one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. I had asked for the ice cream but got a surprise cherry first.

cherry

Boating in Cochin

I once visited Cochin during school. It was a hazy three-day trip of which I only recall hot days and cold nights.

Oh, and the boat ride.

Like most tourists in Kerala, we took a boat ride too. And the best part of it is that we had to walk through numerous boats to get to the one we’d ride in. We stepped onto the first boat in the lake, and from there onto another, and another, and then another. After walking through about 6 or 7 boats, our teacher called out saying we had found our boat at last.

It was the largest mass of wood I had seen that floated on water. And on it was a hood-like structure that kept the rain and sun away. As soon as we embarked the boat, it began to rain. We filed into the “hood,” and saw our jaws drop. There were about 50 chairs placed around the interior of the boat, with glass windows to make us feel like an island.

A little adventurous, I stepped out of the hood and onto the dock. There were some wooden poles to hold on to, and the cold monsoon breeze kissed my face. I peered down from the boat, to see clear water in some places, and muddy patches in some other places. Little islands of seaweed flowed here and there, breaking the vast, rippling water.

And as our boat thrust forward, concentrated salt water gushed from the boat’s edges like swimmers racing in opposite directions.

I leaned in with my camera to get a better shot at the flowing water when another, much smaller boat made its way toward us. Two men stood on that boat, one of them handling the sail while the other blew his shrill whistle signalling to our guide.

They seemed to me like challengers daring us to race them. And I was all game before I saw the print on the boat: Coast Guard.

Huh?

We heard it later: According to government rules, every passenger on the boat should have a life jacket, and none of us adhered. We were just a bunch of over-excited school kids being kids. Besides, what’s the point of taking “security measures” when you’re at the mercy of nature?