Kerla at last.

I did get my beauty sleep. And talking of exotic foods in Southern India; I had five kinds of wadas. Let’s see Mendu (the one with the hole), Banana wada (if you have it once in your life that’s enough) which was seething in oil, Onion, Dal and Bonda. And the winner is Bonda in Calicut. Bonda has an edge over potato wada it has a dry onion, garlic currie in it.
The crescent moon was still winking at me when Kerala came. And suddenly the landscape opened up with rivers and coconut trees everywhere. That’s what KERAL (in local language) means; The land of coconuts.

The lady in the next compartment, who I had mistaken for spice was actually a pain. Her cacophony in top treble kept life moving and other people’s conversation stagnant. The Eunuchs could not scare me into giving money.
Anyway forget her. Kerala is here.

Cooler because of a cold wave in the North, which has Bombay shivering; I hear. The dawn shadows of coconut tree right out of a James Bond movie namely Dr. No have given way to a morning filled with all tshades of green. And I mean all shades. Even Corel Draw would not have done a better job. The gold is there in the skies and will be pilfered by the afternoon. The clouds are gray and then the green like a multi-spendour dream broken by occasional red flowers. And grey fences. The fisherman are early birding for the fish. The storks or are those crane, are flying in elegant grace.
Let’s be fair to Panvel and the Konkan. It is equally green there but Coconut tree are curiously different from the palms.

There is a variety of green at display. Vineyards, red contrasting yellow and green. There’s smoke on the distant hills and water every 3 minutes. I can be in a pond forever. I can eat curd rice with minute slices of green mango spicy pickle forever. The small tar roads with cyclist and lungi clad people romping the ramp. Mossy stone walls. Big old bridges; small old bridges. Man with kids wearing red caps. Mountains and a stretch that goes on and on punctuated by coconut trees.

Daytime Scenery

Daytime Train to Kerala: The journey continues

Konkan Railway is a new addition to the world’s largest network in India. The British can be thanked for installing the network, if one is in the mood. Last time I had crossed this terrain I had mentioned a million tunnels. But I think I was slightly mistaken. There are 200 odd. Land slides are common and the rocks are tied by net wires like huge sharks (and just as menacing. However, I was in a gay mood. No pun there. and found myself singing Dire Straits out of the blue. The tunnels do inspire Rock. Pun there.
And then the beggars came. An emotional attack on the heart. But luckily I have none. The Chicken Biryani and thought of going to Kerala made my Indian trip worthwhile. The Diva Mountain reminded of a time when I had tracked to Haji Malang from Ambernath, a mere 50 km affair. Also in the same trip I had climbed the temple in Diva. The Thana Bridge reminded me of how we had scaled Bhimashankar heights: 7 hours to the top. Train brings a certain nostalgia and turns you into a 12 year old. Gapping at tunnels, waving at people: feeling sorry for them, thinking of Mario Miranda’s cartoons. The picnic to Vasai fort. Trivandrum during Murali’s wedding and Padmanabhan temple. The king of Kerala and how I was stopped from jangling the bell because it is the temple of sleeping Vishnu. How Umesh came to my rescue in Tamil. That white lungi. I like the way Emma pronounces it. Last time I had passed this place there were coastal, misty waterfalls and before that Mrs. Iyer had brought the Curd-Rice with small mango pickle. All of a sudden we are in Konkan.
On the way back I will be toying with the idea of buying a house in Chiplun because there is so much water. For now I will be recharging Vishy’s mobile at Chiplun and Ratnagiri in tea stalls and station master’s office.
Travel has its moments. My first foreign trip was to Bangkok in 89 and I remember how the 11 o clock sunshine seemed golden.
Last time Sam and I had bought lungis in Ernakulam. I brought it along just in case. Last night I slept in peace thanks to an antihistamine. My work on the web has been so addictive that I have forgotten to sleep. That’s the thing about my life. If don’t do something for 3 days, I forget about it. Someday I may rediscover it.
The Barren yellow, yellow, light green landscape has started. The cacti have made their presence. I buy some bottled coconut water. Can you beat that? Yeah… Cacti are at times nicer than flowers. They store water and are hard outside soft insides. Appealing eh? These coastal people are same everywhere. I’m thinking Samoans. They have their coconuts and their colored floral luva luva. Their love for straw furniture and typical green colored walls.
The train is bellowing smoke. Even that pollution is romantic. Crazy aye? I romance places. They remain etched in my mind. The small lanes of Bulsar. The heat of Ahmedabad and cricket in cobbled streets. The farmers follow the scorch earth policy to prevent soil from turning lifeless. This was first brought to my notice in Matheran, where I had biked with Mohan. He pointed out the distant plains from one tree hill. The nature is everywhere.
Sheep and shepherds. Trees with roots hanging out. Sounds bizarre but looks awesome. Yellow cream rural office houses. Red post boxes. Well there is no camera so you will have to do with words for now.
Luckily Vishy’s mobile is roaming so called mom twice. The waters are becoming cleaner. The palms are here. Did you know Bombay was an island once? Then the waters were clean. Now the waters are gutters.
It’s night and sleep is evading my shiny eyes. A line from one of my poems. The police are up and about checking for liquor bottles. So they can have some. It’s 4.30 and I’m in Mangalore. Reminds me of Reshma. A rare beauty. Udipi. This is where all those south Indian restaurant cooks come from. They train in a temple in Udipi, Mangalore and get their spice right. I think I will sleep.