I have the unbelievable good fortune of spending a week in Kerala with my extended family. There's 12 of us here, ranging from age twenty to sixty two - the logistics are mind-boggling, but the joy and the madness is amazing. We have traveled across the western border of India in a two day train journey, played endlessly in the Arabian Sea and watched Kathakali dancers on the beach, but like all good things, this one is ending too. I'm writing this post from a verandah where I can see a swimming pool overlooking the sea. My brother and his wife are doing laps in the pool, my baby sister is sleeping in the room, and the rest of the family is off climbing a lighthouse to watch the sunset.
We will pour oil on body and do massage, he said (he pronounced the 'mass' as it is in 'massive' - prophetically as it later turned out). Oil will enter body subcutaneous tissue and remove all toxins from body. When we live in the cities, we take in lot of metallic and non-metallic toxins into body. So regular massage is very important to pull the toxins out (miming an impressive pulling at this point).
We were talking to Dr. Shambhu from the Ayush Ayurveda clinic in Kovalam, and he was giving us an Abhyangam 101. It was a convincing lecture, and five of us signed up for an hour long session each at his clinic. My take on Abhyangam: they slather you with buckets of oil and do something resembling a massage. I give it a 6 on 10. I guess I prefer the Balinese variety.
Interesting as it was, the massage isn't what I want this post to be about.
|My adorable chacha and chachi on the Poovar beach|
And then we go back to the 'real world', to collect some more of the clutter and the 'toxins' (metallic and non metallic) - we wake up to smoggy skies and views of ugly high rises, commute in fear, breathe in smoke, do our jogging in concrete jungles, and eat whatever junk is available quickly and with minimum fuss (I'd like to add 'spend our days doing work that doesn't move us', to this list but that part isn't true for me anymore *Grin*).
But all that is tomorrow. Today, what remains topmost in my being, is the memory of my mother's voice behind me, as our boat floated gently in the green backwaters of Poovar,"It doesn't feel like this is earth, does it?"
It really didn't. Not the earth we're used to.
I have a list of recommendations (you're welcome, universe!) for Things That You Have To Do In Kovalam (order does not indicate the delight I derived from each - that part is very hard to pin down):
|Poovar backwaters, picture courtesy Kanwaljit Kaur|
1. Have breakfast at the German Bakery (Hawah Beach).
2. Go swimming in the infinity pool at the Leela Kovalam and have their brunch.
3. Eat at the Lonely Planet Restaurant (yes, that is the name).
4. Go to the Fusion Restaurant (Eve's beach) and order the pineapple curry with rice.
5. Take a boat through the backwaters of Poovar.
6. Walk on the Poovar Beach.
7. Believe in the magic of post-breakfast siestas.
8. Ditto for post-lunch siestas.
I second the siestas!ReplyDelete
Interestingly, travel to such places makes me believe that the 'real world' is an illusion. Travel makes us intelligent.ReplyDelete
Loved the real world metaphor.
Nicely written, Manjot. Really, the amount of magical beauty that is packed in this tiny state is amazing! And I'm not saying this just because I am a Mallu :-)ReplyDelete
Dear Promod sir - I absolutely agree with you! It was my second time to Kerala, and I'm thankful the entire world and its aunt hasn't yet discovered how lovely the tiny state is. Such a lovely beach, and so wonderfully clean...ReplyDelete
Jealous of you for being a Mallu :)
Loved your article... reminded me of one of my first loves - travel! How easy it was to just pack my bad, buy a reserved sleeper ticket (this bit was not very easy) and just leave with my true companion - the lonely planet...ReplyDelete
Thanks for reminding me about what mattered to me, and what I seem to have berried under the dust of worry and concern about career. Thanks for reminding me about the blueness of the ocean and the delight of a steep climb... Your article stirred me in a kind way, and reminded me of the travel creature that resides inside, nay, that I am.