God's own country

God’s own country – they call it as, less known to myself too that its mine also. The place where I belong to but more than a decade of zero contacts made me forget a lot of things about her. Just few dreamy incidents is what I can picture within me. Green and blue is what she symbolizes in every nook and cranny of hers. I received the tickets for my trip to kerala unlike other times I cant say a lame reason to avoid it and have to accompany mom. Bit excited to find out what’s new to be found in her. A wonderful opportunity to refresh my memories also keeping myself open to accept any change in what I’ve felt for her till now.

The agenda:

Questions ( I ask myself) and answers ( we’ll no one ever answered me so I do it myself)

Why am I here ?

On a pilgrimage.

Aim ?

To visit as many temples as possible in two days.

Limitations?

To use the most economic modes of transport.

Company?

My mom, Good( I don’t find any reasons why ); Bad she sleeps a lot and I can’t, I’m a insomniac .

Expectations?

Not too many , fine weather, bad food and lots of arguments with mom for sure.

Unexpected?

Funny why I ask myself this?

The journey:

We had anticipated the slow moving traffic of our town and the two hour journey to the station felt longer than the overnight journey t o kerala itself. The so called students making havoc at every signal was irritating me too much, all the noise just to get a few glimpses of those girls in the same slow moving vehicle.

Of all those things that which can turn a man into a poet, I stood in the only Man Made reason that has been able to change more people into poets or writers “the railway station”. The Brit’s legacy still stands tall and welcomes anyone who steps in this city where I dwell. Soon I found myself in the herculean task of selecting one book from the pile of favorites in a book shop. Half hearted I left the place with one book that’s gonna accompany me in my journey.

Things in the train were more ridiculous, and made me wonder where the actual authority lies. Here I was traveling with a bunch of guys actually 7 in number who were travelling in three tickets. The TTE was least bothered to check them or even penalize them. The night felt more longer as they looked more like robbers than passengers. While my mom had a splendid sleep I had to burn my midnight oil. It was not that we were carrying a fortune with us but something in me kept me awake. Even imagined situations of how to tackle 7 guys in an event of a robbery. I was awake the whole night for no reason and the moment my heavy eyes fell down it was the place I had to get down.

The touch down:

The place was still asleep when i got down from my train. The first sight I saw was a person carrying an idiot box which was distributed free all over T.N by the Ex-ruling party. Both the news and the free TV seems to have travelled places, soon to be in this state to speak Malayalam for the days to come I saw the TV being carried away, with a smile. The first thing I heard was a mobile phone singing a tamil song- long live tamil least in its neighboring states and countries. The bus stand just like the small town was asleep and we got into a bus which hardly had 10 people. The cool breeze and the misty air was a relief to my all smoked up lungs. I took deep breaths to try and clean up my lungs so that I can smoke a little more when I’m back in my place. But the chillness in the air was something which I’m not used to in my place. Hiding my shivers I try to enjoy the scenes which passed me by.

The mission:

The temple situated in a square plot , being bad in maths and the fact that I didn’t carry a measuring tape with me I cant give the data of how big the place is, I really wonder at few writers who give an accurate measurement of things do they carry a measuring tape? Or, do they Google the data? Or just the confidence that no one is going to check his data/ read his book? Neither did I carry a compass with me but thanks to the sign board, it let us know we were entering the west gate of the place.

A gym freaks paradise:

Its evident in my looks that I’ve never been to the place called gym. Pieces metal work better as car engines and to sweat in Chennai you don’t need a work out just 2 min walk even in the midnight sun will make you sweat. One of the odd things in temples here in God’s own country is that the devotees have to be top-less, now keep that dirty mind of yours silent, the Indian law of equality in sex holds no good here only males are supposed to expose their torso. Any gym freak will feel happy to remove his shirt and I being no Salman Khan or with the kind of hair on my body I was quite in an awkward situation, but with no options other than to comply I took it off and stood with my bear ( NO it ain’t a typo I meant the animal only) chest. Few min into the act I found it was fun, no not the topless part but the kind of beauty what the eyes get to see. But my hands were very busy trying to hold on to my dhoti as it refused to stay around my waist. Another law which anyone has to abide by while entering a temple here. With all the rules to be abided by inside the temple above my head, still it was a wonderful experience, like a travel back in time, people looked more pleasant in traditional wears, more presentable. No weird ringtones to disturb or electronic gizmo to be seen nearby all present was a divinity in the air.

“Krishna”- every girl loves him:

The legend says Lord Krishna was loved by all the girls in his period and I here I stand in a place where I see it happen and I believe it. There were more beautiful girls than men. My eyes started doing a marathon, a marathon to catch as many beautiful girls as it can in a blink. The wet and long hair, the traditional wear, the makeup less beauty, the sandal wood paste on the forehead I was observing them all ignoring my mom who was asking me to stand in a queue to collect some prsadham. Yes girls loved him then, the girls love him even now and in the future too. My heart was whining why si that I have to endure this every time, I get no girls when I travel in a train or no beautiful girl sits near me even if its vacant. All the beautiful girl ends up to be in another compartment or least a few Km away from where I’m placed, why is that lord can’t spare me a few or least one for that matter?

What a hotel- what a mess?

Our tummies were aching for food as we had to skip our breakfast standing in that long queue’s. We stroll down the market road in search of a good hotel as I’m well aware of the kinda food available. I was not that into Mallu style food so this big banner which said “continental, Chinese, tandoori, north and south Indian foods” attracted me what really attracted me is the fact that the word “kerala style food” was not included in it. The hotel was more like deserted IT park in recession with hardly any guests and a reluctant waiter arrived and gave us the shock that nothing other than a meal is available. My growling tummy surrendered and we made a quick nod, we had walked a long way to this hotel and were in no mood to walk back for another with a empty stomach.

Hotels in Chennai or hotels anywhere for that matter server” hot” food (excluding ice cream and food items that are to be served chill) and “cold” water which tastes “good”, but we were witnessing the contrary of it. The water was Luke warm and food was damn cold and the taste far from good. It’s a customary here I believe, the waiter decides when you finish, they are in tight schedule even when the hotels are empty they walk to your table not more than 4 time. Once to take the order , next to serve the third to walk towards you and announce you his decision that you have had enough and the last thing left for you is a tea/ coffee with a bill. He’s least bothered about his tips too cos he knows you are never gonna return to his hotel again and even if you had the guts to come who cares? He would have left the job and be in some middle-eastern country (which is collectively called as Dubai) for some un-named work.

I stepped out of that hotel with a worried tummy and my eyes staring at the pictures displayed in the banner, my mouth can’t stop watering- food for eyes definitely not for stomach.

Beauty her first name:

Though called as “god’s own country”, even god’s had their places and preferred to be there itself, unlike in the neighboring state where the All Mighty can even be found in a mile stone or an a tree preferably in the middle of a highway. The temples are maintained clean and was surprisingly silent during the peak hours too , the loud speakers were used very little to announce lost items/ people in the place and any special ceremony and was not used to wake up the neighborhood or disturb students. Got used to the noise and commotion in my city, the silence here was deafening me.

The houses were too tempting and wood is an integral part in every construction, the sheer plot size would put any city dweller to envy, large enough to accommodate a hundred trees with a river flowing in the rear side of the plot. All we know is ten sq feet of ground we call as our hall and similar sizes we make them as kitchen bedroom and other rooms. For six months we pray for rain standing in unending ques for water, the next six months trying to keep ourselves dry in floods. Never do we think of rainwater harvesting or maintaining the balance of nature. For once I had to break the rule of sticking to the cheapest mode of transport and was travelling in an auto rickshaw enjoying the sights of the Green God around me. The auto rickshaw didn’t shake much, the road was pretty comfortable. Lost in my past something really woke me up. “Her” father too was building a house somewhere in Kerala before we broke up. It must have been completed now and suddenly ever new built house looked like her’s. She would be somewhere, may be here near me. One of the top priority things which I wish to forget only to end up thinking more of it. The most vivid thing what I saw was the girl with those beautiful eyes, she kept starring at me till my auto sailed passed her. The kajal in her eyes still vivid in my memory, wondering what made her look at me. Was I smart enough to impress her or just that something was stuck to my face and I didn’t notice it.

The return:

With few more splendid temples and dumb hours in every mode of transport we reached the station. I came here to repay for my fulfilled prayers but end up returning with more prayers to be fulfilled by him. With the usual swift that comes to anyone who sees the approaching train we too got into our train and the busy day was showing its signs on me I got up only to find myself back in this place where I belong. Happy to be back in Chennai.