I always felt uncomfortable to look at similar colors in close proximity. Like pink and red, orange and gold, yellow and gold–you get the idea.
But then, during my visit to Nepal, I saw this in an antique shop. It looked to me like a bunch of wall-hangings, and the colors jumped out at me. Under normal circumstances, the entwined warm colors would have thrown me away. But perhaps it’s the subtlety of the material, it looked beautiful.
One thing I love more than coffee is tea. In part because I grew up waking to tea, but more so because I spent my childhood vacations in a Nilgiri tea estate.
I still remember the chill that ran through my spine every morning while I reached my index finger into the bucket of water. Every day I’d dream of bathing in cold water and not falling sick. It felt like an achievement to bear the cold air and the cold water dripping from my temple. I never managed to, though. It was always better to douse myself in lukewarm water and come out for warm tea and breakfast.
All of those memories came rushing back to me as I swayed in the jeep, riding through Thekkady’s tea estates.
I had always taken for granted the beauty of tea plantations. But I hadn’t been in one for about four years. We did visit an estate during my team trip to Darjeeling, but that was no proper estate. It was young and grew on plains!
In my opinion, a proper tea estate lies on a hill, about a hundred years old, still bearing the ghosts of British colonialism. Oh, and I’d trip on my feet every time I tried to climb an area of plantation. That’s how tea estates should be. That’s how Thekkady was.
I’d gawk at tea pluckers who cruise through tea leaves without the least care about the slope. They had become so accustomed to incline walking; it’s like regular walking for them. I still remember their straw baskets resting on their bright red headbands, sometimes matching their green saris or clashing with their pink dhotis.
And I knew I wasn’t the only one reminiscing. My mother sat next to me in the jeep, and she clung to the handle, almost reaching out to the tea that grazed her side. She was born and raised in a tea estate. Her memories were as strong as the tea her family cultivated. There was nothing our guide could show us that she hadn’t seen already. Nevertheless, her eyes sparkled with long lost moments.
But the Thekkady tea estates were much higher and much rougher than the Nilgiri estates I’m used to. When riding in the Nilgiri mountains, we at least remained in our seats, whereas Thekkady made us jump harder than we had expected.
But none of that mattered once we reached the top. That wasn’t our destination, but we had ridden through so much of lusciousness, we had to take a break. What’s more, we could smell the tea drifting through the leaves.
I felt elite, to look at leaves that give us a heart-warming beverage, at being able to inhale it before anyone else.
There is such a thing as too much greenery. I realised this when I stood on top of the Green Mountain. As the name suggests, whether it’s summer or monsoon, the mountain is ever-green.
It’s a high view point located somewhere in the forest regions of Thekkady. The only way to get there? A jeep. Fancy that.
I felt like a forest ranger popping up and down and swaying like a pendulum as we rode through some of the roughest ways I’ve ever seen. I didn’t say roads because there were none. It was all just rocks and mud and monsoon slushes.
We rode higher and higher a mountain without ever knowing our heading. And all along the way, there were plenty of shrubs and long grass. We could also spot a few pepper plants and cardamom pods studded between the rocks. It was hard to say what we smelt, though, because there were so many different scents wafting through. Apart from the spices that went straight to our heads, there was also a strong lemony flavour in the air. And that combined with wet soil, it was some high we got.
Our guide reached out into the shrubs and pulled out some of the lanky grass. He twisted it and handed it to us to smell. And at last, the lemony mystery was solved. There was an abundant growth of lemon grass in those regions. It’s one of the most pricey cooking ingredient and a superior flavour in cleaning agents. And the weird part: They shrouded this forest like overgrown weeds in an un-mowed lawn. Amazing what the absence of human interference does to nature.
We reached the top of the mountain, and all around me was green. Green hill tops, green grass sheen, green trees, a green valley below — so much green that I couldn’t help but wonder if global warming was a myth.
How could one part of the world have so much natural beauty while the flip side parched? It seemed so unfair, yet it felt so good to stand there as if in a chroma key video shoot.
When I had drunk enough air, I looked behind and saw our guide holding out a pair of binoculars. “Look there,” he said, “elephants!” I looked; a mass of grey giants loomed inches from me. The elephant herd kept moving from one mountain to another faster than I could adjust my focus.
All of a sudden our guide shouted from the other side. He had spotted a herd of deer.
And all the while, my father stood facing another direction altogether with a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes. I approached him, and he looked at me his eyes sparkling. “Look at that waterfall.” And I stood transfixed until the guide had to usher me.
We had more views to drop our jaws at.
I’m a loner, a solo player
who’s surrounded by none.
Cross-legged I sit and stare
perched on my pedestal above
There I sleep, eat, drink, and live
‘Cos I’m a loner, sailing solo
And my bed is my island.
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you I’m in Thekkady
That I’m basking in the lawn
While trying to stifle a yawn
— –
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you I’ll write about it
Make some posts, take snaps
Even about me taking naps
— –
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you how great it is
To sip steamy chai, to gaze
and make a hoopla for a thepla
— –
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you I’m in Thekkady
That I see it’s god’s own country.
Or that I had scheduled this post.
The Chaos Within 