Tag: travel

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.

Walk in the Park

It was just another Saturday evening. I lay on the floor of my sweltering room, looking up at the fan swirling without a touch of breeze. I was bored. I had nothing to do. I was tired of sitting indoors all day watching TV series from the 70s. I had done nothing else the whole of that day and I wanted the next day to not be the same.

I messaged my friend and set up a plan to visit the nearest zoological park. And to think I hated zoos and crowds of people! But that’s how desperate I was. The urge to do… something, led me to nod to plan that’d been in discussion for a long time.

I woke up early, and washed my hair.

At about 2.30 pm, we left braving the vegaries of the unusual monsoon heat, with cotton shawls over our heads and swelling anticipation in our hearts.

zoo 1

As we stepped into the first few inches of the spanning 1,490 acres, a chill ran through my spine. It is a large forest; people come here for day trips and picnics. And we had come for just a walk. We started out with a massive crowd hogging its way into the park, but it thinned out as people moved away exploring on their own.

That was the best part of the visit. It wasn’t anything like the school excursions we used to go on. We didn’t have to hold hands with our partners and walk in lines. We didn’t have to split our attention between the trees, animals, and to the teachers lest they made announcements. And we didn’t have to time ourselves so as to leave early.

We could take all the time we needed.

I never liked gawking at animals in a cage. Or pointing a camera, teasing them to turn around and stand still so I could take a picture for my friends to “ooh” and “aah” at later. So we stuck to the pathway not going up to the enclosures. And lucky for us, most people clung to the enclosures, giving us enough space to strut the path.

We walked around with lusciousness looking down at us from every corner. Tiny nectar plants attracted butterflies of all colours. There even was one with a chocolate-coloured coat.

Trees of all kinds and sizes stood by our way, letting through the setting sun, leaves swaying to the breeze, and looming shadows starting to show. Some other trees had begun to stoop realising night coming.

The way was paved well, easy to walk on even for hours along. We roamed about looking around, gaping at heights, pointing out squirrels in bird cages, and catching a glimpse of the white marvel peacock with her sad eyes and drooping head.

zoo 2

Looking up at decade-old tree barks, peeling off skin and sprouting new ones, I realised the value of nature. There was a time when trees, plants, and shrubs just grew every where, unbound. But we now have confined these forests behind stone walls, enclosing animals along with it, naming it a zoo, making a fortune in maintenance fees, and calling it preservation.

Sure, it was a well-kept park. Neat and tidy, with snack parlours and ice cream stores. It was a perfect place for human entertainment. But if we had left them be, unpruned and un-sheared, there would’ve been more.

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

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

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.