In God's Own Country
A light drizzle, wet grass and ground, the lone drop from the big banyan tree; and in the midst of all this, the gloriously mighty sun peeping out as if it was shy of revealing itself fully to the wonderful people... these fascinating sights greet us as we step out of the railway station at Kottayam town,
Kerala.
Few things in the world can actually provide joy; the joy that comes from watching Rahul Dravid play an exquistive cover drive, the joy that builds up when you read a Sidney Sheldon or a Michael Crichton novel. As soul-filling as these may be, they dwarf in comparison to the joy that Nature provides. For example, the sight of an old man sitting outside his home at Kottayam and reading the morning paper, in one of the most beautiful mornings I've ever seen. I sure envy that man - sitting behind a
where-did-he-get-it-from gorgeous gate, finely cut grass, magnificient steps leading to a pretty house, wonderful weather, the smell of fresh flowers and a crisp newspaper. This is happiness, This is joy. Maybe I'll do it one day.
As we finish our work at Kottayam, some people suggest that we go to Allepey by ferry and add that the ride is scenic (unlike the bus ride, which, they say, is very tiring). The Kodimatta Jetty is the place we head to and a big motor boat, full of people, greets us. You could have heard and read tales about the luscious backwaters of Kerala, but no description can match the actual feeling of being there. Small waves hit the noisy boat, which stops at regular intervals at 'boat stops'. The three-hour ride is a scenic one; a Shakespeare would have fumbled for words to describe it! One can see lots of houseboats on the way.
A houseboat, as the name suggests, is a house on a boat. With furniture, rooms, a kitchen, the houseboat is a favourite with honeymoon couples. I saw a girl lying on her guy's lap, who was gently stroking her hair and whispering something into her ear - all these romantic mushy-mushy things on a boat overlooking wonderful water, trees and grass - it should have been the happiest moment of their lives. I'll pay a million bucks to spend some days with my sweetheart on one of these romantic houseboats; only, I don't have a million bucks and nor do I have a sweetheart!
Allepey looks a bigger place than the pretty Kottayam, and has all the characteristics we associate with a Madurai or a Thanjavur. People can be seen brushing their teeth a eleven o clock in the morning, minimal transport marks the side roads and a lot of hustle-bustle is present on the main roads. 'Chai' seems to be more preferred than the customary coffee. The bus conductors do not wield the whistle, instead they use a bell with a long rope.
One thing that amazes me about Allepey is the number of exclusive umbrella shops - I counted ten! Umbrellas of various shapes and sizes, design and colour, are sold at these shops. What is more amazing than the existence of exclusive umbrella shops is the crowd inside them, all this on a hot, bright afternoon! Allepey has a clean beach where the waves rise higher and are bigger than their cousins here at Marina and Elliots. Locals say that the beach is the most favourite evening outing.
Ernakulam is bigger, much bigger than Allepey and Kottayam. The morning rush, symbolised by crowded buses and jam-packed trains, are a daily sight. It has all the characteristics of a metropolis - hundreds of office-goers scurrying past you, vegetable shops doing brisk business with housewives on a shopping spree. Buses and autorickshaws sound the horn loudly. An irritated policeman, an idle-so-helpful shopkeeper, an ever-talking autorikshaman, an eager door-to-door salesman, a software professional talking on his 6600 mobile - you can find them all here.
The Marine Drive in Ernakulam is a beautiful stretch along the backwaters; it, essentially, is a beach without sand! Huge trees providing ample shade and space, bright flowers from which a lovely smell emanates, a constant good breeze and some 'kadalai' shops make this place a must visit for anyone going to Ernakulam. I earn Rs 100 a day here and much more during the weekends, says the 10-something kadalai seller with a face and a smile that would have instantly fetched him a place as a model for any CRY advertisement.
"I believe in God, only I spell it Nature," said someone. He was Wright.
God's Own Country. That's
Kerala.
Srinivasa Ramanujam