Well...here's the post about my Kerala trip...hope you enjoy!
THE CHARACTERS:
Malu:- my best friend
Mickey:- the other maharashtrian friend accompanying us
Amma:- Malu's mother
Achchama:- Malu's grandmother (father's mother)
Ammuma:- Malu's grandmother (mother's mother)
Vellyama:- Malu's aunt (mother's elder sister)
Chechi:- Malu's cousin (Vellyama's daughter)
Kerala. One of India's smallest, pushed to the south-western corner of the map of the country. The only factual thing I knew about tht state was that it had 91% literacy rate and a favourable sex ratio. It also happened to be where my best friend was from.
They were a Malayali family settled in Pune for the time being. Malu and her parents would make a yearly trip to Kerala to visit the rest of their family; cousins, aunts, grandparents living there. And this year, they decided to take along me and Mickey.
That's not her name, of course, but as per their family tradition, everybody was assigned a nickname by birth, and since neither of us had had the honour of this ceremony, we felt it right to come up with our own. Of course, it was no compulsion, but somehow, nicknames appealed to our liking.
Once that business was settled, we took a plane from Bombay to the city of Kochin. The flight was two hours long, and a visible difference could be seen between the view of both terminals from above. Once the flight pushed off of Maharashtrian ground, one could see acres of flat grey rooftops huddled together as if cringing away from the surrounding grandeur. Large patches of one of the world's biggest slum areas were visible even from thousands of feet off the ground, rather, only from thousands of feet off the ground. The industrial city of Bombay has many colours, mostly grey from the smoke. Tiny cars, the size of ants, zoomed below us on the one centimeter wide roads.
Emerging from the clouds an hour and a half later, one could immediately tell the starking difference in ladnscape. Miles and miles of green canopy carpeted the earth. Trees, mainly coconut trees, stretched on as far as the eye could see. Contrary to the flat precision of Bombay ground, this place had largely undulating topography; a vast stretch of hills and mountains covered in dappled green that reflected the crystalline rays of the sun. It was quite a site to see, and I half wondered whether the flight had accidentally taken a detour to the amazon. Not a square of dirt ground could be seen below. As we glided downwards dipping into the thicket of trees for the landing, Malu turned to look at me with her eyes beaming with pride.
"Welcome to Kerala..."
Kochin was one of the nearest thing Kerala has to a metropolitan, yet the trees and not been compromised. Greenery seemed to be an intricate part of the people's lives. We loaded ourselves into a spluttering Sumo; Malu, her mother, her achchama, Mickey and I. The driver drove us through the pleasantly bumby roads, away from the city bustle, through the small villages in the midst of, you guessed it, trees. Lying in the seat with my head resting on Malu's shoulder, I watched the large houses and coconut trees speed by. I remember admiring the scenes flickering before my eyes, before surrending to the clutches of exhausted sleep.
It took us two or three hours to reach our base city, Thrissur. We first stopped by at a cousin's place, where I first saw what the houses there were meant to look like. It was a small one storey bungalow, with a front porch and about two bedrooms. A garden sprawled before it. I admit, at first sight, I immediately took a liking to it. I didn't do much there though, except toss grapes in the air and catch them in my mouth. I had somewhat perfected that art after having done it for hours on end during the swine-flu leave.
Next we moved on to her achchama's house. Achchama was a quiet lady, dainty and composed, with a serene smile on her face, and a religious gleam in her eyes. Coupled with a beaming face, she had a generally holy look about her altogether. Her house was similar to the first place we'd been, except that it had an upstairs and no garden. I liked that house too. Malu explained that she and her cousins would play football on the front cemented yard. Occasionally they would knock over a flowerpot and the maid would come flying in a frenzy to scream at the lot of them.
After we dropped her beaming grandmother there, we proceeded to go to her other grandmother's place. It was definitely a bit bigger, and more ancient, and in the heart of the city. But it had a very woody, homely feel to it. We entered through the back door and had our first sight of our base camp, with Ammuma standing at the doorway to complete the picture.
Ammuma was quite a personality. She was on the shorter side, with her hair tied in a bun behind her. Her eyes had a mischevious sparkle to them, as if she had something up her sleeve that she would through on you once you turned your back away. Her face had a childish expression owing to the wide grin on her face, not unlike that of a small girl. Spirited, lively, yet short-tempered, Ammuma was the life and soul of the house.
The next few hours went in a blurr. I remember sitting at the dining table as Ammuma taught me to say "vellyama" which meant older mother. It was what malu called her aunt. I remember talking to Chechi, Malu's cousin sister. I remember peeping out the forbidden window which, at that moment, I had not known was forbidden. Then I remember falling into deep slumber.
The next day we geared ourselves up for the first day in Kerala. We were to go to a waterfall that day, which was definitely fun, seeing that we got to go into waist deep. On our right was an endless river cutting through forestland. On our left, a few yards in front, was a waterfall.
I remember that day, getting news that the wedding was off, due to the unavoidable fact that the groom was stuck in London because of a volcano that blew in Iceland. I sumhow never imagined myself saying something like that. Malu was looking pretty muderous, Mickey was quite expressionless, well, she always is, and I, though a bit disappointed, shrugged it off with a smile. We'd still have fun, right?
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Amu, Malu's other cousin, came over for dinner. She was quiet, but sweet, and happened to be taller than us. She was in sixth grade. I felt suitably dwarfish.
Malu was quite preoccupied in trying to reach her sister, the one I had talked over the phone with. She called her chechi, which meant didi, and so did I, at first in a respectful way, but later, she truly became an elder sister to me. She was to come sometime today.
In the evening we went to the back to wash our clothes. The clothes washin session turned into a water war, and ended with me sitting on the compound wall, saluting Malu who was bellowing out the nation anthem on top of the washing stone. It was a comic sight to behold, especially when Malu, with a sudden scream scampered to the door nearly knocking me over mid-salute.
A tall, slender, fair girl walked in on our proceedings, laughing musically as Malu crashed into her embrace. Both of them jumped up and down in joy, speaking rapidly in malayalam leaving me and Mickey watching curiously. Sensing that we would be called forth to be introduced, we walked over to them dutifully. The girl, who was about twenty, smiled kindly at us and we immediately took a liking towards her. Malu introduced her as her Chechi.
Vellyama was a nice lady as well, very beautiful even in her age. We all went out for dinner at their favourite restaurant, Elite. Malu had the urge to sit at a specific table; there were reasons, and pretty good ones, but on the race to claim it, another man, unfortunately the same one we had exchanged greetings with outside the hotel beat us too it. A fuming Malu spent the next half an hour devising plan revolving around chainsaws and deflated car tyres and fueled her anger into ripping apart paper napkins. It earned her glares from her Vellyama and the waiter alike.
---X end of diary entry 1 X---
The next day the whole lot of us piled into the Sumo at four in the morning on our religious quest across the temples of Kerala. Feeling nice and comfy in our slawar kameez, we yawned our way through the first half an hour in the trunk of the car and stumbled sleepily across temple steps. I doubt the gods were much pleased with our half-hearted mutterings. By afternoon, we all felt suitable holy, and exasperated at Chechi's enthusiasm and unexplainable love for forget-me-nots she would find outside on the lawns. Temple-visiting somehow got Malu high and she started bellowing out a Malayalam nursery rhyme that literally translated into a story of a man who got his dhoti pulled off in public. A half horrified, half amused Chechi plonked her hand tightly over Malu's mouth while the rest of us ungrateful folks blatantly ignored her.
Next that day we visited her ancestoral house. It was ancient and grey, but suitable ancestoral. Chechi showed us around the place, pointing at the grainery inside and the place were cattle used to graze. I spent a good fifteen minutes gawking at their family tree which was framed and hung neatly in the living room. We met a whole bunch of realtives there too, and later lay sprawled on the four poster bed in one of the interior rooms.
When it was getting time to leave, we walked the area around the house which was covered with dry grass and trees. I stared wistfully at the trees though, feeling a deep urge to clamber up their trunks, but I somehow thought that might not pass very well with her relatives. We stomped out way through the grass behind. Chechi kept stopping and squealing to point at a stray touch-me-not and giggling as it shrivelled at the touch of her foot. We marched towards the spot where her grandfather and another relative had been buried. Humbled by this piece of knowledge, Mickey and I stood politely nearby while Vellyama, Amma and Malu prayed with their eyes shut. Chechi stopped mid-giggle and abandoned her activity of pointing out touch-me-nots, taking up an angelic, humbled pose to pray with the rest of her family. As Vellyama and Amma opened their eyes amidst the peaceful silence and made to leave, Chechi whirled around destroying whatever mourning atmosphere that may have still lingered and screamed "look, another touch-me-not!" Vellyama and Amma glared ruefully. Malu burst out laughing. Mickey and I stared at her with polite alarm, not sure whether succumbing to hysteric laughing would be sinful to the rested spirits of those who lay buried in front of us.
After returning home at our base camp and freshening up, we took off to the hotel where the wedding was supposed to take place. It was a grand, nicely decked up building, and the lights blinking across its roof in the backdrop of a setting sun did nothing more than point at our faces in sadistic glee. We were there to meet the bride and her family, so we were forbidden to laugh, snort into our drinks, or make general sounds of merriment. We arrived there looking suitable mournful, which got easier and easier with the corresponding increase in grandeur and wafts of good food that mocked us as we walked in.
We didn't really keep to the anti-general-merriment rule. We did snort into our drinks, except we stopped when the bride actually entered. She was calm, composed and all smiles for her guests, and we were humbled on seeing the pain behind her soft eyes. We behaved like perfect guests the rest of the time.
After meeting the bride we were to go to dinner at and uncle's place, which was said to be located near a jail. There we were introduced to a super-hyper Dachshund, a few parakeets, and supremely good food. Sadly, Malu and I didn't last till farther then ten-thirty and the adults found the two of us soundly asleep on the bed upstairs with an unperturbed and decidedly unsleepy Mickey.
On the 19th, we left early morning for Coimbatore, where Malu was desparate to meet a cousin of her from Malaysia. It was a three hour drive to the edges of Tamil Nadu, which had an equally stunning scenery to watch out for. The house in Coimbatore was fantastic, in my eyes. It was two-storey, suitably grand with wooden steps, a porch, big bedrooms and a wide seating room on entering the house complete with a family portrait. In front there was a wide area before the main gate at the road, which had a circle covered in lawn. A huge tree loomed over the area in a very picturesque way. We spent our evening hours playing games with the cricket bat and football we found in the house and after we tired of that, we lay on out stomach on the lawn under the tree, enjoying the breeze and clicking pictures.
I lay down on the poky grass, having collected the necessary leaves, twigs and longs strands of grass required for what I was about to do. I recalled how, when I was small, I used to make twig dolls by tying two perpendicular twigs together in a somewhat cross. I'd wrap a big leaf around the top for her hair, and one below the second twig to make her dress. Very crude, but who cared, really. I wasn't going to auction them, was I?
So I sat there, minding my own business, thoroughly engrossed in wrapping a piece of grass around the twig. Mickey sat beside me, staring straight ahead, and looking so thoroughly bored that I swear she would fall asleep in that position. Malu loitered around the road, amiably kicking stones, hands buried in her pocket. She stooped down to pick up a particularly roundish object and tossed it around in her hand, as if considering her next move. I frowned as the piece of grass I was working with broke off.
A sudden disturbance in the air and a faint whizzing noise were the only signs I had, before something round and hard collided with the top of my head. I yelped and looked up in shock, only to see a pair of eyes looking back at me with an equally horrified look. The rest of the face was covered with Malu's hand. For a few seconds, we simply stared at each other. Then, instead of running towards me to ask if I was ok, she scrambled in the opposite direction towards the house. I gaped after her and suddenly became aware at Mickey gaping at me.
"It...it...bounced off your head!"
I stared. "Say what?"
Mihika stared back. "It just, one second she had it in her hand, and then something whizzed past my face, and then, well...bounced off your head!"
She imitated an object hitting my head and then flying back off before falling to the ground. I looked at the ping-pong-ball-sized nut beside me. "So why'd she run to the house?"
Mickey's wide eyes blinked. "I dunno. Maybe she thought you'd run after her with it?"
And then quite suddenly, we both were laughing hard, rolling on the ground, Mickey squealing over the hilarity of what she just witnessed and me chortling over what I imagined seeing had I been her. Malu came back a few minutes later with an ice pack and her Amma in tow, only to find us crying and panting on the lawn.
---X end of diary entry 2 X---
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I shall be leaving the town pretty soon, so I doubt I'll be able to update the diaries for quite some time. So don't be surprised if I finish this post a month later (sheepish grins).
