Tag: kerala

Stranger Things

On my first trip to Kerala, I stayed awake all night. I stood at the door of the bus, clutching to the frame and watching the dark sky lighten.

It was three years ago, on a school trip. But the memories still linger, as if just yesterday I stood at the footstep, nibbling chocolate chip cookies at 4 am.

We started out at around 10 pm the previous day, and just like any trip with friends, we talked, and sang, and danced well into the night. But as darkness fell, most of my classmates started to doze off. I sat down next to a friend who fell asleep in an instant, making me howl with jealousy. I plugged in my earphones, instead, and sat up straight wondering what to do in a bus full of sleeping classmates with only the driver to talk to.

And then I got bored. The wind blew harder with every mile we passed. The cold October breeze stung through the open windows. Pulling my cap over my ears, I walked over to the entrance of the bus. Unlike the usual full-length, the door was about my height so I could look out without reaching out.

I put my head through the door, and a warning call came from behind. The driver’s companion (who’d take the wheel when the other driver needed a break) yelled at me to stop being a fool. I flashed a sheepish grin and assured him I wouldn’t hang out the door or rest too hard on it. It was a secure door, I knew but you can never be too careful.

And so I stood there, gazing at trees passing us at 45 miles per hour. From swaying green monsters, I saw them transition to black ghosts. As the night moved onto early morning, a blueish hue appeared over the horizon, and lights popped up at every corner I turned to.

My stomach growled. I pulled out a packet of cookies and went back to my lair. A friend on a seat nearby jerked awake and joined me. We stared out at the tents that lined the highway, lights within them illuminating creepy silhouettes with butcher knives. We passed a few more tents and noticed large bodies hanging on the entrance of the tents.

It took us more than one chilling moment to recognize what it was. Kerala is famous for dark meat, and with the rest of the country dabbling in holy cow controversies, it wasn’t so obvious to us that the beef dealers started their day early. Once we understood that, we smiled at ourselves and began pointing out gory silhouettes.

It was the closest we could ever get to being in a thriller a movie. We basked in the sensation, and a while later, the sun peeked from pink clouds, cast them away, and walked out in full glory. More of my classmates began to stir, ready to explore the wonderful land of Kerala.

While they chattered away, I traced my way back to my seat. My adventure had come to an end, and staying up all night had given me a headache.

Monkey Mouth

It’s a weird idea, fun. No two people have the same perspective of fun. And I didn’t have any photos that are even close to what someone else might consider fun. Except, perhaps, this one.

monkey

I took this photo at a crafts shop in Thekkady. I’m not the kind who loves to buy and accumulate stuff in my home, but I like appreciating interesting-looking things. And this monkey caught my eye right away. It was amusing, putting in so much handwork to create something almost ugly. And I couldn’t resist a close-up shot of that big mouth.

I was trying to get different angles when the owner of the store “reminded” me photos weren’t allowed. He made no effort whatsoever to hide his irritation at us. Guess we weren’t the first over-enthusiastic tourists at his shop that day.

Waking Up

It doesn’t always look like this, but there’s always tea in my mornings. It’s more than a ritual; it’s passion that makes me reach out to that cup letting off slow steam and steady scent.

I took this photo during a holiday in Thekkady a few months ago. I woke up to the little light seeping through my bedside window, illuminating my cup of tea and my soul.

tea

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?

A Closer Look

details

I had read fiction where the hero would lie on soft green moss after a long tired day of battle. I had even seen a lot of moss, sure. But I never thought them beautiful. How could something that grew in dark and damp clusters look nice?

But then I went to Thekkady, Kerala. I was roaming around in the Periyar Tiger Reserve when I saw the true beauty in moss. It was the first time I had seen a sheen of green I couldn’t look away from. I had to get a closer look. And a photo. Because I do that now.