Tag: travel

The Unwanted

Sometimes, we get so caught up in our own worlds that we miss the little things around us. Like in a flower show, all we see are well-watered flowers, settled in protective enclosures. But there are other stuff around that aren’t as noticeable. Like a broken twig, or a timid squirrel scurrying through dense feet.

It was quite the same when we went on a trip to Kodaikanal.  We stayed in a hotel with bountiful linen, wooden windows, and sumptuous meals enough to make anyone drowsy. And there was also the most beautiful scenery around us. Flowers of all kinds, huddled in bunches, and pruned to perfection. But there were a few extras as well. Little petals peeking through the rocks, braving the gardener’s sharp shears.

They were the unwanted, the ones the world could do without. They were the spares.

spare

The Le Café

I’m quite skeptical when it comes to government institutions, but even I was amazed when I visited the city of Pondicherry.

It’s an infamous French Colony, yes. But it doesn’t end with that. The great thing about the city is Le Cafe, a government-run coffee shop. As for the best part — it’s open 24 hours a day.  le cafe
I would have liked nothing more than to sit on one of the stone benches, stare at the raging sea and cross off the stuff on the menu one thing at a time. But my father woudn’t hear of it, and I had to retreat to our hotel.

Nevertheless, I heard the waves calling and sensed the caffeine luring me. I woke up at six the next morning and went out to the cafe — boy, what a sight.

Le Cafe stood like a rectangular block of mud cake, with another smaller block perched atop. The vintage-looking menu board, and its flowing handwriting, the accolades the cafe had received over the years, and age-old photos framed in clear wood all seemed to testify to one thing: this cafe is the best one out there that an Indian government manages.

It was just after the monsoon, so the weather was cool enough without being chilly, and warm without the heat. And there was plenty of flowers that accommodated the previous night’s dew, reflecting the early morning sun, while looking to the skies for some of the daily bread.

flowering pondy
The first time I had walked into the cafe had been the pervious night. It was half-way through to the full moon day and the entire sky seemed illuminated by the half-moon that only elevated the beach view. But I had missed the little ponds homing fish the size of half my finger and flowers almost as tall as my knee. Those I noticed the following morning.

stone bench
And then there were the stones themselves. I’ve never seen anything so solid, and so inviting at the same time. After the cold night of sea breeze, the benches jarred my teeth as I took my seat.

And all the while I walked around, pointing my camera in random directions, the waiters didn’t bother me at all. I went to one of them and wondered aloud of I could take photographs. He smiled wider than anyone else I had seen there and gestured his approval with wide open arms.

No matter what anyone says, for me, Le Cafe will always be the most important tourist attraction in Pondicherry. Because everything’s better with a good dose of caffeine.

Homesick

I’ve heard people talking about being homesick for someplace you’ve never been to. And now I feel it.

After spending as little as five days away from my routine, I now crave more of it. I liked waking up at three am to watch the sunrise through bamboo trees, I enjoyed trekking up a mountain just so we could look down at the plains, I cherish every moment I spend on road shuffling about my seat as we drove through some of the less paved roads.sunriseAnd then I came back. To waking up early so I could get to the bathroom before my roommates woke up, to trudging along the pavement as cars, lorries, and honking autos rushed past me, and made my hair stand up. I came back to my life in the world of air-conditioned offices, where Ralph Lauren, Louis Vuitton, and Ray-Bans were the casual ensemble. I came back to the world I knew I don’t belong.

As I inhaled the carbon dioxide from the hundreds of vehicles that passed me, it took me back to the day I stood in the middle of a tea estate engulfed in the smell of unpicked tea leaves. I remember the fresh water rivers, so clean and so turquoise. I hadn’t seen (or known of) such pure water before. I was so close to the earth, among flowers that bore the morning dew, amidst frozen lakes, and mountains so rough yet so beautiful.

frozen

I long for that.

I’m homesick for that closeness to nature. I crave for the mountain tops, the warm grassy plains, the chilly winter breeze, and the freezing snow peaks. It’s the kind of view a twelve storey corporate building couldn’t offer.

Big Mother

We don’t think or talk it about it everyday. But when someone mentions it, all we can think about is the earth’s greatness.

That’s how I looked at this topic. Anywhere I go, I’d take photos of everything around me. I’m fascinated by the natural resources that are gone to waste in our selfie society.

It’s amazing how the earth manages to bear all of human vanity, yet give away sights only she can. There is something so pristine about fresh water springs, dew drops on flower buds, unshaven mountain cliffs, and the scent of the first raindrop on parched land. If only we stopped our small talk and turned around to see what we’ve been missing all along.

dew drops

Pondicherry, Unmatched

There’s nothing quite like it: Standing on the sandy shores, sipping warm comfort, and staring at foamy waters crashing into rocks.

pondy

And that’s how I remember the city of Pondicherry. With her manicured streets, fresh-brewed coffee, and a view that demands attention, the city it still one of my all time favourites.

The beach played a major role, of course, but so did the no-vehicles policy. Every evening, the police ensure that no vehicles enter the beach road. That time’s for the tourists to walk along the beach, get a cup of cocoa, or a bite of corn, and retreat to a fancy restaurant for dinner.

 

beach roadThe entire area is built and managed in favour of the visitors. No wonder people love it there. Plus, it helps a lot that Pondicherry is a French colony. The street we stayed in — the Beach road — and a neighbouring streets were all so well furnished.

I stood in the street looking up at the looming concrete. They were unlike any other building I had seen, and it was obvious the government wants to please their tourists.

The infamous Aurobindo ashram is a huge attraction as well. So many Europeans have made the ashram their life, and the city their home. Even the shopping sites in the city seem to favour the their tastes. Wool, cotton, linen, and hand-loomed — it was such a pretty display of material and colours.

Oh, and the food. Since it’s a coastal city, there’s no short of fish, and all things sea food. And, the city’s a bit relaxed in alcohol rules. With the best of both worlds, most restaurants serve alcoholic drinks throughout the day — something the south of India never approves.

food

Pondicherry welcomes modernity in moderation. From where I come, however, people frown even at the idea of drinking in social conditions. It’s sad that folks sometimes look at the city as a bachelor’s haven, a place of mischief and misconduct.

But when I bit into those fish fingers, the sauce tingling my tongue and the steam seeping through my teeth, I stopped caring about what the world says. Pondicherry is a great place. And I’ll never pass an opportunity to go again.