Bengalis are a study in contrast. If I were to write the 'Curious Case of the Middle-class Bhadralok,' I'm afraid that a tome would not suffice. We are good when it comes to packing two things - suitcases and memories. Trains are the best and most comfortable way to travel, felt Bengalis from the time the steam engine billowed smoke in the country for the first time. Soon, the Himalayas (stuff that postcards and intermittent dreams were made of) were theirs, so much so that "no one knows the mountains better than us", claimed many an uncle and para dadas, on countless occasions. Hence, travelling 'down South' is not much of a prospect, with Kodaikanal being the only exception.
So, when my husband and I decided to visit Kerala, our plans were met with responses varying from wonder, to disbelief to even taunts. Some assumed I had sought something from the Lord on my last trip to the place some three years back and was on my way to pay homage as a token of my wish being granted! There were others who minced no words in saying that Bengalis with their limited knowledge of travel were obsessed with word-of-mouth and hence the new-found craze for Kerala.
Brushing aside unsolicited remarks from opinionated uncles, aunts and at least 8 out of 10 people in my family, we were back in Kerala.
Maybe 100 at a first glance...But a closer look assured me that the coconut fronds that sway rhythmically in the balmy breeze are perhaps, countless. So were memories that flooded me the very moment I landed once again for a sojourn in God's Own Country. As our flight glided across the runway at Cochin Airport, the familiar sight of the coconut trees, the verdant greens of the surroundings and the unmistakable freshness of the air welcomed me as I meandered along the Western Ghats. From my last trip, I remembered how every bend in the backwaters throws up an interesting peek into the daily lives of the fisherfolk, who carefully scurry upstream with their fresh catch, sometimes homeward bound, at other times to offer tourists on their way. The green foliage is pleasant when cruising on a sprawling houseboat along the vast stretch of the Vembanad Lake. It is an experience not to be missed. Canoes in backwaters are equivalent to a family car. Only the occasional honk of the houseboat ensures your connect to reality.
Ambling along the bylanes of Fort Kochi, I could visualize myself getting sucked into a time warp, travelling across several centuries to encounter the travails of Vasco da Gama. Looking at tiny specks dotting the ocean, the ships were, to my mind, likened to the mere remnants of the bloody and colourful past of this town when the Portuguese had invaded it through the sea. The winding, cobbled streets in Jew Town exude a charm of a bygone era. A walk past the somber Dutch cemetery and the solitary St. Francis Church, however, did reaffirm my belief that the place had more than meets the eye. I spent a restless night in my beautiful and cozy hotel room, a tad disconcerted by the strange sounds, occasional whistling of the wind and the distant rumbling of thunder. The church and the cemetery were just round the corner and provided enough fodder for my overworked imagination.
The next morning, driving through Ernakulam - once the capital of the Kochi rajas but now a throbbing centre of commerce, all memories of midnight escaped my mind. Once a tiny fishing village, Cochin is now touted as the pulse of Kerala and manages an excellent balancing act by juggling the old and the new with elan. In 1341, due to the flooding of the Periyar River, Cochin was formed, as it had opened up the estuary. Several settlements followed and in 1405, 'Kochi City' became the regional kingdom of Kochi.
My next stop was the majestic Athirapally Falls. Stretches of rubber plantations kept us glued to our seats through the three-hour journey from Cochin. Merging beautifully through thickets, in no time we progressed towards the 80-foot mighty falls, ensconced comfortably in the lap of the neighbouring hills in Thrissur district.
Travelling across from the coast, up the Western Ghats, our date with Munnar turned out to be an affair to remember. Here, in the predominant abode of the lush green tea bushes, time stands still as you merely gape at nature's bounty. The idyllic, sleepy town, which literally means three rivers in Malayalam, is not just any hill station. Locals move at an unhurried pace never asking you to rush into your meals or knocking you out of your stupor as you get busy watching a rare plant or bird species, perching atop one of the tall pine trees. Clouds share an easy camaraderie with the tea plantations. Walking down misty trails, moisture-laden gusts wrap you in their embrace, every now and then. The refreshing scent of tea leaves, the volumes spoken by silence, the continuous chirping of noisy crickets, occasional tolls of distant church bells are enough to keep you company in the dream station. Rain is as regular as breathing here. Downpours come and go but each time manage to drench the surroundings in an unmistakable hue.
Kerala is also a place where dollops of mythology are served fresh. Legend has it that when evil overwhelms good, Lord Vishnu awakens from his celestial sleep. He takes on an incarnation on earth, vowing to set things right. Parasurama was one such avatar. A Brahmin, it is believed that his mission was to rid the earth of the arrogant Kshatriyas. By the time Parasurama was done with his work, some 21 generations of Kshatriyas had been annihilated and the soil soaked in blood. The land had been smeared with years of gore which finally led Parasurama to fling his axe into the ocean in a bid to atone for his sins. As soon as the hatchet touched the sea, the waters receded and gave rise to a pure, unblemished land. This was Parasurama Kshetra - a land comprising Tulunadu and Keralam. These were gifted to Brahmins and were asked to make them into their new homes.
Even before we could call God's Own Country our own, the long and enduring path of fables continued to hold sway. When I asked my driver to take us to Papanasam Beach, whose waters are believed to wash away one's sins, he nonchalantly replied: "Yeh dekha na? (referring to the beach at Kovalam) Yahan sab beach same hai." (You have seen this beach right? Well, all the beaches are alike here). Thus, with a heavy heart, I had to silently let go off the chance to wash away my accumulated sins!
While many tourists throng Kovalam, few actually know of Varkala. Our reluctant driver, however, blatantly refused to take us there and also charged a ridiculously high fare for a 70 km-odd ride from Kovalam. So, I had to make do with tales which I had heard from a few acquaintances at the hotel. The Kappil beach is a magnificent spot here where the backwaters meet the ocean. An uninhabited islet floating in the backwaters, this is the spot where Travancore queens are said to have hidden their jewellery!
My journey ended just two days before Onam - the biggest festival of Kerala. I wasn't, however, deprived of the chance to catch a glimpse of the lavish preparations at Thiruvananthapuram. Women made a beeline for temples in the run-up to the festival. Draped in white sarees with golden borders, they prepare earthen mounds on this day and decorate floral carpets to give a befitting welcome to Mahabali - the mighty king of the demons.
Thiruvananthapuram, the abode of Lord Vishnu, is now in safe hands of the Travancore kings. The Padmanabha dasas (as they are also referred to as) guide and look after the temples. The fact that Kerala dons many a hat of being the only state in India with the highest literacy rate is already well known. This is also the state that has the highest male-female ratio. Christians and Muslims account for nearly a quarter of the population. Colourful mosques stand guard at important landmarks. Majestic churches along highways and various street corners look completely at ease, sometimes modestly showcasing intricate architecture dating back to ancient times. One thing that is striking here is the peaceful and harmonious co-mingling of all castes. Our Muslim driver categorically told us that while entering the Shree Padmanabhaswamy temple, men have to wear dhotis while women were allowed only in sarees. Our spirits were dampened on reaching the place, where serpentine queues greeted us at the spot where dhotis and sarees to be worn inside, were being distributed. Our driver was absolutely shocked to know that we had given up so easily, he insisted that we did darshan.
Once home, inquisitive friends and family prodded me for photographs. Now, one must know that we are a very sentimental race when it comes to photographs. Whether yellowed or tawny, we never fail to pay pictorial tributes to one and all. Appreciative sighs and a smattering of questions later, my folks were happy to know that eight percent of the country's tea was produced in the estates of Kerala and about a quarter of India's coffee is grown there as well.
Some say, Romans arrived there as early as 52 AD and teak from Nilambur made its way to Solomon's boat! I could not help being amused when many exchanged looks of wonder and started asking for an itinerary to visit a wonder down south - Kerala!
Things that help:
1. Though friendly, most people like to keep to themselves. This must not be misconstrued as a sign of arrogance. If you have questions, ask, they are happy to help.
2. Food is interesting, a Tandoori Surmai and Fried Karimeen are highly recommended. Also try the Non-veg Biriyani at local eateries dotting the main marketplace in Munnar. Those who love spicy food will simply devour it. Don't go overboard while ordering fish, especially those who are not okay with coconut oil as a cooking medium. It's better to ask before ordering Fish Moily, so as to check on the medium. The home-made chocolates in Munnar are a must-try.
3. Not all massage parlours are good...especially the ones near the Lighthouse Beach at Kovalam. Try the Mayura Spa at Munnar - it's clean, reasonable and good.
4. Shopping is easy, affordable and fun in Kerala. Don't forget to bargain. The silver shops lining the Lighthouse Beach at Kovalam are quite a steal and offer eclectic stuff.
5. Overnight stay on a houseboat is not recommended, as the boat stops plying post dusk and starts again in the morning. Spending a humid and mosquito-infested night along a paddy field may not be the best option around! It's better if you spend an entire day on a houseboat and retire to your hotel room in the evening.
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