TRIP TO VENICE (of Kerala)

As a child I always dreamt of leaving my house and staying at far away places for studies. The main reason for such a wild dreams is due to the fact that I was never able to visit anywhere (at that time I never realized I was a home sick person). I was never allowed to go to my friend’s house or my relative’s places for an overnight stay or beach or film theatre (defect of having an over protective father). Not that I was in jail, it’s just that there was no one to take me to these places as my father was always busy and I didn’t have much of such close relatives.

The only place I was allowed to visit was my cousin brother’s place (my mom’s sister’s place). I remember my stay back at their house with my second cousins or third (I still don’t have any idea). We used to sit on the front porch of the house at evenings and chat and also sometimes play antakshari. These sittings were usually called upon during load sheddings which quite increased the beauty of our gathering. There is a small temple in front of this house and also a huge Banyan tree and we could hear chants vibrating (I don’t think any other words will suit) from the temple. Also there is a railway cross after the temple adding on to the atmosphere around the temple. How I loved those days.

I was never allowed to visit a friends house and I still remember my fight with my father over this and he used to say u can go anywhere when u r old enough. I kinda waited for that day to come but it never did. Then for my studies first I had to go to Pala, Kottayam and then to Ernakulam. Still I was not old enough.

After third semester, we (me with ma friendz) were doing internship in an office in Ernakulam. One morning, I was arguing with my father for something (don’t remember wat) and he got angry and scolded me very badly. Later that day one of my friends invited me to her house and I called up my father to ask permission. Since he was trying to make good for the incident in the morning he told me to ask my mom and if she allows I can go (I reckon he was hoping mamma will say no). But fortunately mamma allowed and there I was packing my bag for my first trip to a friend’s house.

The journey itself was very funny. We somehow got into and occupied two seats in a transport bus and we were off to “ALLEPPEY” Venice of KERALA. We started out after 5 pm. Owing to the beautiful traffic of Ernakulum city, we were still in Ernakulum after 6.30 pm. Even though our parents started worrying, we were in truth enjoying the moment. We talked all the way and my friend was telling me a story she read in readers digest and it was fun.

We reached Alleppey around 8.30 and my friend’s parents were waiting for us in bus stand. There was some kind of festival in the temple and her parents took us through the decorated streets of the Alleppey. I still don’t have words to explain the beauty of that place and our excitement. We bought (if truth be told, we bargained) small earrings and some small things from the shop and I put “mehendi” in my hands and I also bought that soap water thingy from which bubbles came out when we blow. Her parents took us to a wonderful restaurant and we had (believe me) too much food and ice cream. Only thing which destroyed our enjoyment was the fact that battery of my mobile was down and we could not take any photographs to make it ever lasting.

After all this we went to her home. First thing we notice about the house is that it is a traditionally built Kerala house and inside of the house was decorated with bright colours. She showed me her room adorned with quotes she wrote herself on the walls. Her room has a balcony attached to it from where we can see a temple (a beautiful one too) surrounded by trees and the ground is filed with white small sand grains. This sight made me remember my old days at my cousin’s place. A kind of echo from past to this stunning and unbelievable present a dream fulfilled.

My journey only ended after an adventurous tour to Alleppey beach in the morning and a small talk with the local police about our art on the sand. And i returned home with an ever lasting memoryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…………………………..

A wondrous sight this snow in June

With perfume falling blooms caress my soul.

This heavy heart is lightened and I sing

Intoxicated by the rush of spring--------------------- Kadapaad

www.mikesjournal.com/June%202006/White%20Flow...

Blooming of my December mist

When I think back to those times passed I realize that what I remember most are just flashes, intriguing smells and stupid dreams (day dreams). There is nothing which can be “referred” as a memory. Nothing which has a starting and an end. Oh for god’s sake I can’t even remember a small conversation. My memories are flashes of some moments in my life (my walk past classrooms, trees which are decorations of my first school and of course faces of old friends)

One of my memories is about my first ever school. “Little flower”, name of a saint who is well known for her spirit and her generous loving nature, is the name of my first school. I always considered this school to be my only true school where I existed, where life began (though I been to two other schools). There used to be a tree in the front porch of the school and it formed significant part of the school. I still remember anxiously waiting for the bell to ring so that we could hurry to the tree and pick up the fruit falling from it during its blooming seasons

Its curious and illogical but I do have the capacity to remember certain unique smells. I can recognize some smells and connect it to my past. Smell of soil during first rains always take me back to my life as a little girl stuck inside house due to heavy raining and my little games with my sister. Other smell which I can identify are smell of jasmine flower and certain others which I can’t even name. Other part of my life was always filled with dreams and my imaginary world (really stupid I can say now).

To be truthful, a memory (image) which holds a definite and considerable part in my life is that of a plant, a creeper which grows near our front gate and covers up to the top of the shop near our gate. A special feature of this plant is that it blooms (small white flowers) only once in every year. When blooms, it gives the effect of snow resting on leaves after heavy snow fall. It always invites adoring looks from all passers by. I once saw a bus full of people staring at these flowers (Okay a little exaggeration but true in essence) but why this plant has so much effect on my life is that it blooms only on December (my birthday month). My parents usually made a great deal of my birthday. So as a child, I used to (still I do) start counting backwards from 1st of December And I used to consider (and truly) that these flowers were my birthday gifts from God and I wait for these flowers to bloom. I still remember my mother waking me up early morning to show me the wonderful sight of these flowers. It never failed me and I thank God every year when it flowers. I never missed the sight of these flowers from the window of the front room. I remember me and my mother going near this plant and shake it slightly so that some flowers fall and make a carpet of white flowers on the floor. I used to call the flowers “December poovu” (December flower) which later became December mist when one of my friends suggested this name.

My personal flower and a sweet memory still never fails to bloom and it awaits (as I consider) my return to my home on December for my birthday