Bitten by the travel bug... An escapade to Nelliyampathy hills

"I thank you God for this amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky, and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes." - E.E.Cummings

These days I find myself longing to travel more and more, to explore places unseen, and to lose myself in the lap of nature without a care in the world. I want to take a break from my normal, uneventful days and the mundane role that I play in life.

Wise people are of the opinion that we one should never disregard opportunities. And when opportunity came in the form of a simple thought while reading the Sunday newspaper and sipping a hot cup of morning coffee, I didn’t think twice. I grabbed the thought with my entire mind and decided to head straight to Nelliampathy, a quaint little hill station which is barely about 60 Km from Palakkad. Referred to as ‘The poor man’s Ooty’, it certainly sounded like a great escapade for the day. I wasn't wrong.

It is said that a picture is worth more than a thousand words. Hence i choose to record my journey through pictures.

It was a bright, sunny day as we started off  on our journey to  Nelliyampathy hills, which is about 60 km from Palakkad town. 

The road to Nemmara, a small town situated on the base of the Nelliyampathy hills. It was as though we entered another world altogether. The roads were bordered on either side by a thick clump of trees that exuded a magical feel. Perhaps the magic was in our minds.... Nature does have that power on man.

The sleepy town of Vallengi, which we passed enroute. Being a Sunday, the roads were less occupied and the only crowd we saw was in front of the beverages corporation. Guess that is only to be expected in God's own country :)

The Pothundy dam reservoir. A 19th century creation of the British era, this dam was built unconventionally with a mixture of jaggery and quick lime, and it still withstands the test of time. 

A view of the dam and the valley below. Love the clouds above which seem to be having a life of their own.

Why do i get this feeling that they are used to posing for the umpteen cameras which pass this way? It just seemed like a part of life for them. 

Another breathtaking view of the Pothundy reservoir below. Wish i could have stood there, being part of this awesome landscape, till eternity...

Need i say more?

A lovely cottage in the midst of all this greenery in the Poabs estate in Nelliyampathy. I kept thinking as to what life would be for the people who stay here.

The Poabs organic shop selling tea, coffee, cardamom, pepper, ghee, honey, squashes, etc.  I  did buy some tea and honey.  And that's my son, Varun, posing for the camera :)

Just fell head over heels in love with this picture perfect view. This is a place enroute to Seetharkundu, and seemed to be simply out of this world. 

Our destination was Seetharkundu a place which offers an amazing view of the valley down below. Tourists throng this spot where one can  get a breathtaking view of the valley down below. But personally, i enjoyed the drive to Seetharkundu better. After all, as some wise person has said, 'It is the journey which matters and not the destination.' 

Looking forward to more such amazing journeys in this lifetime where i get a chance to become one with nature...

Flight of Freedom

Like all other trees in the neighborhood, the big mango tree standing proud and erect in front of my house too had started shedding its leaves. The fresh green leaves that had been the epitome of life a few months back, had gradually started acquiring a yellow hue and finally one by one, they started to wither and fall off to the hard earth below, under the contemptuous gaze of the young, green leaves basking in the sunlight.

Well… dead leaves need to be cleared away and just the other day, I had embarked upon the particular task. A few swishes with the broom and suddenly it was as though I stumbled upon pure magic! I had inevitably disturbed a whole cluster of ‘appuppan thadis’ (known as Pappus in English which is nowhere as romantic as its Malayalam name). They were till then securely lying under the protective cover of the dry leaves. Thrilled by the first taste of freedom and spurred by the gentle breeze that was on, these charming winged seeds which resemble the long, white beard of a grandfather, started their individual journey towards unfamiliar places…

As I wistfully stood and watched them soar away to invisibility, somewhere I realized my innate desire to fly free like these winged beauties... to travel to lands unknown, to places unseen, to mountains and lakes and forests and valleys… to be one with nature and to drink in its splendor… to embark on a journey to discover myself…to a place called freedom!

Escape into the wild - A travel narrative through the eyes of an 18-year old

College life is often referred to as one of the most enjoyable days in our life. This is what i get to hear from most people and i think today, on 10^th January 2014, I exactly got to know why…

Let me introduce you to two of my friends who are going to be the other characters in this narration.. Meet Bimal, one of the most mature and well behaved characters I have ever seen in my 18 years. My other buddy is Jason about whom I am at a loss of words. He is just one of a kind... totally unique.

It all started a week ago when Bimal invited us to his home at Mannarkad for the weekend, since it was the occasion of their yearly church fete. It didn’t take more than a moment for us to voice our assent, much to his surprise. Definitely, it seemed like a welcome deviation from our usual routine on a weekend, which was primarily to stay put on the couch, watching movies.

The wait for Friday seemed endless and finally, the three of us boarded the bus to Palakkad – the pit stop being my home, for refreshments and a change into my Jeans. (ain’t it comfy)! Late in the evening, mom dropped us in the bus stand where we eagerly squeezed into a crowded bus to Mannarkad, to reach our destination an hour later.

To be very frank, upon reaching Bimal’s home, which was a 5 minute walk from the bus stop, we were dumbfounded. It was huge and really very beautiful and fascinating as well. I just fell for the beautiful garden filled with birds. I also got to speak to a parrot… an arrogant one at that because it never bothered to reply to my questions!

We were accorded a warm welcome by his father, mother and sister and very soon, we found ourselves in front of a royal feast prepared specially for us. Bimal’s mother’s yummy tandoori chicken, chicken biriyani and various other delicacies, not to mention the delicious homemade pudding... my mouth waters just thinking of it. I still have a guilty feeling about the manner in which Jason and I shamelessly ate everything they offered us! A late night movie and long past 1 am, we finally made it to bed! It was an early morning start for us the next day and the idea of driving through the area, and seeing the rubber plantation bimal’s family owns sounded fabulous. Without any second thoughts, we set out on a journey into the wild…

The three of us got into a classic Mahendra jeep with Bimal at the wheel. Mannarkad is basically a hilly area, and very soon, we were going uphill and winding roads and felt more like a high range drive. The road actually would have taken us to picturesque Siruvani dam, but since it was a little too far, we opted to visit the outskirts of the Kanjirapuzha dam about 7 to 8 kilometers away.

Nothing prepared me for the awesome sight ahead! Bimal took us to the catchment area behind the reservoir which was a really beautiful, undisturbed habitat. Totally wonderstruck by the incredible treasure trove that Mother Nature offered us, both Jason and I lavishly feasted on it. The beautiful mountains.., the majestic lake, the tall and imposing thickly growing trees with the sunlight filtering through the leaves producing what is known as the ‘Tyndal effect’, the carpet of dried leaves on the rocky ground, the birds and their melodious birdcalls…it was a sight worth dying for and we made the most of it, clicking away like mad and having a whale of a time!

As we explored further, Jason managed to convince me to climb down the steep, dense incline that would take us to the water. I was like ‘there isn’t any path! How am I going to climb up.. And more importantly, will I be able to climb back? I was actually a bit scared and frankly wished I were more athletic and a little braver. One only knows in such situations as to how brave they are. Nevertheless, I took the leap of faith to a world unknown to me. Believe me, it felt as though we were in a forest. For the first time I understood the reason why it was important to go on adventures in groups. We were holding hands at certain places, pulling each other up, and supporting one another. After all, what are friends for!

After a steep downhill we got to the reservoir’s water area. It was truly unbelievable. I understood what peace is. It was so very quiet that you could literally hear your own hearbeat! We didn’t attempt getting in the water since both Jason and Bimal didn’t know swimming but it was wholesome fun the whole time and we had an awesome time.  I truly understood the meaning of ‘feeling one with nature’.

 Reluctantly, we left the place sometime later and Bimal took us to their rubber plantation which was situated in a place called Payapullu, about a few kilometers from Palakkayam.  The sight of hundreds of trees planted in a hill looked breathtaking and lots of questions popped up in my mind… stupid ones, silly ones, perhaps, but then I realized that there is a lot more in life which I have to experience and see.

We never knew how time flew... The three of us had to leave the serene environment where we had landed and had to head back to civilization because we could smell something burning... our stomachs! Moreover we knew that our delicious breakfast of aapam and egg curry was waiting for us. ;). Moreover, I had to head back to my home since a few other friends of mine were waiting for me at Palakkad. It was perhaps that thought which motivated us to climb up the hill to reach our Jeep that was parked somewhere far away… I think we reached Bimal’s home faster than we expected. Or perhaps it was the sadness in our hearts at having had to leave this paradise that we discovered, so soon…

In about an hour, after a sumptuous breakfast, we bid Bimal and his family goodbye. Although I felt sad at leaving the serenity of the place, I was happy that I was taking with me innumerable memories and a few pictures, to share with my friends and family, and with these thoughts, we boarded a bus back to Palakkad.

I guess it’s only memories that last forever. I was thinking about it in the bus journey back home. I realize that any journey is a destination in itself. Each one may be different and all the plans we make before, and all the pre determined decisions are all pointless. Is it we who take the trip or is it trip that takes us…? I don’t know.

Anyway, the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. I think I have taken my first step and I certainly look forward to more adventurous trips that will bring me closer to nature… in touch with myself.

One of those experiences...

My decade and a half old, dog eared, falling apart booklet of a driving license needed an urgent lease of life that would transform it into a swanky laminated card and well… the beginning of the year seemed just perfect to implement that much put off task!  Predictably, I was besieged by advices from all quarters. Someone suggested approaching a local driving school to get the job done painlessly. Another friend swore by online services which could save me a whole lot of time, which I thought was an excellent idea.  But once I logged on to the Motor Vehicles Department website I was stopped at the payment gateway which recognized only SBI or SBT cards, both of which I didn’t possess. There ended my online sojourn.

Finally, I decided to go personally to the RTO office and apply for the same directly. RTO offices in Kerala are generally places which are flooded by bored-to-death driving school agents, prospective student drivers with scared faces and timid voices, irritated and articulate vehicle owners who have been waiting to get their documents authorized, important looking men who have nothing better to do than check available fancy numbers of vehicles, and a lot of other people like me who are unsure of whom to approach for getting information. As luck would have it, I foun

d myself in front of the Motor Vehicle Inspector himself, who to me at that time was nothing short of God incarnate!

You know what… he actually asked me to take a seat (unbelievable courtesy in a Govt. office unless you know the officer personally), helped me in making out an application, wrote a note in red ink on the corner of the application directing the person at the counter to give it a ‘fast track’ status, and directed me to the payment counter outside his office in an extremely pleasant manner. Well…with my head held high and with all the rightful attitude of a proud Indian citizen, I walked to the counter and handed out my papers cheerfully to the clerk. There ends the good part of my story.

One nonchalant glance at my papers, (The eyes were focused on the computer in front of her) and she scornfully says that there is no ‘fast track’ facility for this. Being assured of a preferential treatment due to my application being endorsed by her superior, I am a little taken aback and I wonder if she has seen the instructions written in ‘red’. I gingerly mention that I have been directed by the Inspector himself and she emotionlessly asks me to come the next day since payment won’t be accepted after 1:30 PM. (The time was 3:45 pm). Fair enough.

The next day, very determined, I walk into the RTO office with my application onto which my old driving license along with a photo and a copy of my ration card is stapled and goes to the same

counter where another lady clerk is sitting. Yesterday’s lady was nowhere in sight and after waiting for my turn which was easily about 20 minutes later, I have to satisfy her blank stare by explaining matters once again. This time, the lady explains that they don’t accept cash payments and that payment need to be made via Akshaya e-kendra and the payment receipt needs to be attached along with t
he application. So now where can I find an Akshaya e-kendra ? And why on earth didn’t someone mention the fact yesterday???

The Akshaya e-kendra which was about a kilometer away is manned by two ladies, who are beleaguered by questions from impatient people waiting for their turn. But I must say that inspite of the hectic work schedule the lady who attended to me was extremely helpful and when she learnt that I required an address change in the new license as well, she opined that I need apply only for the same by paying a fee of Rs. 250 instead of the Rs.550 that was prescribed for a duplicate license. It made sense to me and I obtained the receipt. I got back hurriedly to stand behind a long queue and when my turn came, I triumphantly handed over the documents to the lady behind the counter. She scans through it again and tells me that I have to pay Rs. 550 and not the reduced amount. She is not ready to listen to my logic and dismisses me with a vacant expression. So I am back to the helpful lady of the Akshaya e-kendra who has learnt something new through my experience. So have I. 

The next day finds me again at the RTO’s office, predictably facing another clerk, this time a physically challenged middle aged man with a pleasant smile. When my turn comes, he glances through the papers and finds out that the copy of my ration card which is attached to the application requires an attestation and directs me to the employment office nearby.  I have no other option as I rush to the savior who is going to decorate the copy of my ration card with his green signature. A wait of 15 minutes outside the director’s office (he is on the phone) and I am informed curtly that he is too busy to attest in the mornings. If I want, I could come in the afternoon. But nonetheless,

the obliging person directs me to the agricultural office on the first floor where he claimed sarcastically that there were about 4 to 5 practically jobless officers who could help me out.  I thank him for his guidance and not bothering with the agricultural office, I take my chance with the nearby economic and statistical department whose accommodating director helped me out without any qualms. (Bless him)!

Thankfully the RTO clerk had no other ways to torment me and the rest of the procedure was speedy.  I don’t know why, but surprisingly instead of feeling angry and irritated at the time consuming process where in I had to forego my three days of productivity, I am left with a greater feeling that I have achieved something great on my own!!! 

Hartals @ Kerala

It is a pity that we are allowing unscrupulous people masquerading in the guise of politicians and party workers to run our lives, to rule it and to ruin it in whatever way they please. All these hartals and related inconveniavces that we Malayalees are facing is the result of just that... our magnanimous and tolerant attitude!

Sad to read about the forest office in wynad which was attacked by miscreants yesterday (dont know if I need to call them party workers) and set on fire in protest against the Kasturirangan report. What an ideal way of registering protests!

All this and much more inspite of the fact that the CM has assured people that he is initiating discussions with the Centre in this regard and that he would not let anyone be evicted from their homelands. I guess the only people who need worry is the huge land and mining mafia who are making illegal profits from our protected and eco-sensitive areas. And I particularly dont feel the need to stand up for their selfish causes especially by bringing Kerala to a grinding halt or by tolerating violence of any sort.

Hartals have been so misused in Kerala that I am sure most of us do not even consider it a means of peaceful protest anymore. Instead it is more in the line of violating the democratic rights of citizens by holding their freedom at gun point. Is there any instance in recent years where a hartal has achieved its purpose other than fostering a few egos?

I dont know if the CM will be able to convince the opposition to back out from tomorrows hartal;  in case the hartal is on, I dont know just how many unlucky people are going to be stranded on the roads, how many KSRTC buses are going to be destroyed and how many more govt offices are going to be razed, and life and property destroyed.

Dont get me wrong. I am just a peace loving ordinary citizen of this land who still believes in the power of behaving in a civilized manner.

Amar Chitra Kathas and Childhood

 

My love affair with the Amar Chitra Katha series started from a very early age.

 Like most other children of the early 70’s, my life too was made immensely colorful by the umpteen stories that revolved around invincible Gods and Godesses, devas, asuras, rishis, national heroes, and brave warriors. Thanks to my parents, I had steadily built up a solid collection of these treasured books and I would eagerly lap them up on hot summer afternoons, reclining on the walls of the cool corridor of our small ancestral village house. Siesta time for the elders, It was reading time for me since there seldom were other children to play with. So the various characters in the books, especially the mythological ones like Krishna, Rama, Draupadi, Sudama, Sita, Parashurama, Drona, Karna, etc became alive in my own special imaginary childhood world.

My subsequent journey through life took me away from that simple old house overlooking a big pond, where I had entrusted the small leather trunk filled with my precious books in the care of my grandmother. Every time I got a chance to visit my grandmother, the first thing I would do was to rush to the trunk which was kept on top of a stone ledge in a room upstairs. The whole ritual of opening the box with a rapidly beating heart, taking a quick inventory of the books stacked neatly, turning the pages slowly, and drinking in the damp, musty smell which could possibly have been a mix of evaporated naphthalene balls and old paper, gave me a sense of pure bliss and I would revel in it for as long as possible. But during one of my periodic visits, I was heartbroken and inconsolable to discover my cherished Amar Chitra Katha comics totally destroyed by termites.

Over the years, my interest in Indian mythology and history deepened and I got to know more about my favorite topics and more through other authoritative books. But surprisingly, even today, when I think of a character in the Puranas, I automatically associate it with the small but precise illustrations in the Amar Chitra Katha which had so influenced my childhood days.

This morning as I was cleaning up my bookshelf, I came across an old issue of Amar Chitra Katha which I had brought a long time back for my son, that being the reason for this pleasurable trip through memory lane…

 

Victim Speak

Just recently I was reading about Rahul Gandhi’s speech in Rajastan where he has referred  to the assassinations of his grandmother and father, and also the possibility of his being killed in the same manner.  First of all, let me clarify that I am not a political critic, but being a person who is still able to empathize, I certainly feel sorry for the person who definitely would have undergone a lot of trauma from a young age.

In no way am I referring to his oratorical or management skills or his credibility or financial assets or love affairs or even his current job as a Congress leader. Like a lot of my fellow Indians, I agree that there is much more he needs to do to prove his mettle politically, and win the trust of the people. But seeing him verbally assaulted in this manner and brought down to the level of a ‘buddhu’ or ‘pappu’, I certainly feel sorry for the person that is Rahul Gandhi , who seems to be a victim of circumstances. True, he has lived in the lap of luxury lifelong and is part of a political dynasty that may not be digested by many, but all that comes to my mind when I think of him is the phrase, ‘poor little rich boy’.

Speaking about victims, my dears, it certainly looks like we Indians are a sadistic lot when it comes to victimizing victims.  Mind you, I am not just talking about those unfortunate people who are victims of major physical crimes. I am also referring to people like you and me who may be victimized emotionally and psychologically for a word or action taken unwittingly.  We could be victims at school, at the work place, in the bus, at a public gathering, or even in our own houses.

But irrespective of the degree of victimization, what I feel is that we belong to a peculiar culture that has generated our own effective ways of dealing with the sufferings of victims.  We believe in taunting, demoralizing and demeaning them thoroughly mostly using weapons of words which force them to remain victims throughout their lives.  Never mind the age, gender, or sex of a victim; never mind the magnitude of their sorrows or troubles; never mind their circumstances or reasons as to why they were victimized; we are proficient in offering them not just our generous sympathies, but we also make sure to judge, criticize, condemn, warn, taunt, moralize, sermonize, and watch over them all their lives just to make sure that they never ever forget the fact that they are victims.

Coming back to Rahul Gandhi, as a young politician, he may or may not be able to survive this massive onslaught by over eager Indians belonging to various political categories and idealism, but as an individual who i feel is ‘more sinned against than sinning’, i hope he finds his peace sometime in life...