Go To Kerala

On 24th April, 2011, my cousins and I left for Kerala. 

To visit God's own country. My native land.

The trip had been planned and eagerly awaited for over a month and promised to refresh us in the midst of my dreadful second year.

An impossibly bumpy ride through a seemingly never ending forest and a night of sleeplessness brought our arrival to Calicut. 

(enroute Calicut)

We were irritated and sleepy, steadily cursing the bus driver under our breaths.

I had a blue bump on my forehead from the number of times it had hit the window of the bus during the night.

But the next few days showed us beauty that dimmed the memory of that bus ride to quite a degree.

If there is one thing I can call Kerala, it is beautiful.

There are many things that I've brought back from there in my mind. 

The image of vast stretches of just untouched green.

The taste of fried fish.

The smell of coconut oil.

The sight of liquor shops everywhere.

(that means liquor :P)

The jokes about Mallu accents.

And an unforgettable feeling of regret, and shame.

On our way from Cochin to Trivandrum, we stopped at Alleppey for a boat ride in the backwaters.

This part of the trip was one we'd especially looked forward to. 

We watched the intricately made wooden houseboats glide by us.

Noticed every resort with its architectural details.

Reveled in the poetry of simply floating.

The boat took us to an island where we were served food. Possibly our best meal in those 10 days.

We ate while sitting at the edge of the island, watched the fish grab the rice grains we threw in.

And when we were done eating, the boat owners collected all the used plates and cups, and then threw the leftover food and all our trash into the water.

While we stared helplessly on.

During the ride back to the mainland, I borrowed a piece of paper to scribble this:

"We watched as our fellow beings destroyed the nature we had come so far to ogle at.

We saw them take a step closer to destroying their treasure.

We were all just a bit too late.

Too late to save the very thing we talk each day about protecting.

Hesitancy on our faces. Scared to care too much about the endangered beauty.

And then slowly, even our temporary concerns are replaced by our permanent indifference.

Our hypocrisy.

Slowly our minds drift towards other things.

We listen to fraud music. Make naked, empty jokes. 

Move on.

Meanwhile the massacre of innocent species continues.

The oceans fill with trash.

The lands get covered with rubbish. With slimy bullshit.

The promises of the commercial world. This corporate world.

We go back to our foolish teachers. Ensembles of deception, lies, bullshit.

Didactic preachers of that which they know nothing of.

A world they hesitated to care about.

And we think we are responsible, educated, civil, enlightened. Cool.

The fish die.

The air stinks.

The mosquitoes multiply.

The music gets worse.

Wanna be my Chammak Challo?

The world goes on sale.

And we write about it. Records of the show.

The gig we payed for with our souls."

Go to Kerala. It's lovely.

But please carry a garbage bag with you. :)

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Maybe this won’t qualify as an Incredible but rather an incredulous story. But it was still worth a share. J

This has been written as part of the “Incredible Stories Contest” on Indiblogger.