Kerala – God’s Own Country

In the winter of 2000 we spent our vacations in Kerala and Goa. We start by driving to Delhi and spend most of the next day at the Sarojni Nagar flea market looking for casual clothes and some serious talk and golgappa time. The early morning flight to Trivendrum was commandeered by my first cousin. As a result, we were transferred to business class and soon enjoyed all the bounties denied to lesser mortals. The real thrill was spending most of the flight in the cockpit and watching the clouds change shades and colors. From the cockpit, the takeoff and landing experience is truly unique. After four hours of flight we arrived in Trivendrum where another cousin of mine who is a Doctor in the Air Force was waiting to pick us up. Oh yes, from the air Trivendrum looks like a huge coconut tree. You can barely see the city. The coconut is an essential ingredient of the basic diet, each house has at least four trees. The first night in Kerala was spent on Kovalam beach where of course the kids went crazy in the water and I went crazy looking at the variety of seafood on offer. There are dozens of sophisticated dhabas called shacks displaying various kinds of raw seafood. You can choose what you want to eat and the same is prepared before you. I’d like to have a grilled Kingfish. Prepared with the fiery Keralite masala it was a huge hit.

The next morning we went to the Padmanabhaswami temple which houses the reclining Vishnu and is said to have been erected in the early years of the Kaliyug. That’s 5000 years for you. I’m sure the carbon dating evidence doesn’t match the claim, but the idea of ​​standing in such an old building is nice and sobering. However, the fact is that the construction of the present
The building is about a thousand years old and was made with the help of Chinese workers. His influence is unmistakable in sculpture. The most notable feature was the floor, which is made from vegetable dyes and egg whites and feels like soft rubber. The main entrance to the temple, which is called a gopuram, is made entirely of powdered seashells and features incidents from Hindu mythology in paintings and sculptures.

Kanyakumari was next on the tour plan. We started early, which means 10am, with the kids screaming, lunch being packed, and general chaos everywhere. Lots of fun nonetheless! So we left in the Sumo that we had rented. As soon as we crossed the city it started to rain. In the middle of traffic there was a sudden screech of brakes and an auto rickshaw slammed into the rear of our Sumo. We went downstairs and were confronted by a shy-looking Keralite guy. Unable to speak malyalam I made a gesture with my hands ‘what happened?’ The guy just stuck his tongue out and smiled and it ended there as there wasn’t much damage to either vehicle.

The road to Kanyakumari is dotted with small towns and cities that one crosses so often that one never gets the feeling of being on a highway. The empty spaces are lush green in classic Kerala style. Of course, the cloudy day made the trip pleasant. Our first stop was Padmanabhapuram, the capital of the Travancore kings. The current lineage is from the Verma royalty. The Keralite family system is matriarchal. Therefore, the King (poor thing) is not allowed to marry. But he can have as many concubines as he wants (lucky dog). Then it is the son of the sister who succeeds the King and the sister is considered as the Queen. The King’s palace at Padmanabhapuram is different from the opulent variety of the north. It is the grandeur of the exquisite woodwork, which captures the attention. The floors of some of the rooms have been made as explained above. Even the King’s bed is made of some kind of wooden contraption that has medicinal properties. The tour of the palace over we had a quick lunch of aloo poories and headed off for Kanyakumari.

He had already been to Kanyakumari once in 1984, during one of the training courses while on probation at the Bank. In 16 years the face of the place has changed beyond recognition. What was once a quiet place, lazily receptive to curious visitors, has now become a concrete monster dotted with curio hawkers every step of the way. We quickly make our way to the ferry that takes one to Memorial Rock Island, where Swami Vivekanand is said to have once meditated. Right next to it is another island where a huge statue of the Tamil Perivayoor (hope I got the name right) has been erected. The Rock Memorial has lost some of its exclusivity after the installation of the statue. Fast pilgrimage over we headed back to Trivendrum. A few kilometers away is a place called Suchindran, which according to legend was rediscovered about 500 years ago. It houses a unique temple of multiple deities. The triumvirate of Hindu gods is represented by a single stone figure. There is also a five and a half meter tall statue of Hanuman, which devotees cover with offerings of fresh butter and betel leaves. There is another temple where the rain god, Indra, is believed to come every night to bathe. Why he needs to bathe at night baffles me? The availability of water during the day is probably scarce.

However, the piece de resistance is the pillars outside the sanctum sanctorum. Carved from individual blocks of stone, these pillars are a combination of smaller pillars, which are hollow from the inside. By striking them one by one, the seven basic musical notes can be distinctly heard. In another set are the different sounds of the drums. We arrived in time for the Aarti, so we stayed behind. They had this mechanical contraption that, when turned on, played the drum and cymbals together at a predetermined beat. It was an effective accompaniment to the Vedic chants of the black-robed priests and the blaring of conch shells and flutes. The experience is deeply moving. We went back to Trivendrum singing happily helped with much needed beer.

As per our original plan we were supposed to fly to Cochin but sage advice prevailed and we decided to drive the 500km from Trivendrum covering Kerala in one go. As it turned out, it was an excellent choice, thanks to my cousin’s insistence. The first stop was a place called Varkala Beach. Well, one has to climb a cliff before going down a rocky path to the sea. The wind ruffles your hair and makes these crazy sounds and you have a beautiful view of the sea that goes on for endless miles. Calm and collected…reminiscent of the movie “EK DOOJE KE LIYE”. The last scene where the unlucky lovers die falling from the rocks. Well this place was kind of like that… only I didn’t slip. From there we continue for about 15 kilometers by road and arrive at a fishing village by the sea. There was a small restaurant where we decided to eat. Since we were probably the first customers in the last few weeks, the Matre De grandly announced that the table will be ready in about an hour. Hunger prevailing over anger, we politely asked if a boat could be hired to cover the backwaters (by the way, the backwater is seawater blocked by land due to breaches in the shoreline or high tide spilling water onto the land). The Matre De regally told us that this was just what he had in mind. He blew a whistle and Lo & Behold a long boat arrived to take hungry souls on an hour long journey. I suspect these guys had an arrangement where they would quietly delay arrival if the food wasn’t ready in the allotted time. Anyway, the experience of the backwater was not bad at all.

This particular place was full of the Portuguese Man-of-war, which for the uninitiated is a jellyfish. It is a poisonous creature but beautiful to look at, like half of the weaker sex. So everyone happily sang and photographed themselves and tried to forget their hunger pangs. The hour passed quickly, the Matre De took pity, the boat returned, and the hungry party raided the food, taking no prisoners. Chicken, Dosas, Rice etc. disappeared at an alarming rate. The Matre De looked harassed and panting, running from one side of the kitchen to the other. It served him well! From there to Cochin it was a long drive through lush palm trees and green, green, green everywhere. The place comes to you. We arrive in Cochin in the late afternoon. Arrangements for our stay had been made at the Southern Naval Command headquarters. So everyone crashed after a leisurely Chinese meal in which a lobster was added to my considerable dining repertoire. The next morning we took a quick tour of Cochin, which included a trip out to sea to an island where, in lonely glory, stands the Buggati Palace. This place was built in the 18th century by a Dutch merchant and later taken over by the British who used it as a residence until independence. It is being restored to its former glory and would later be used as a hotel.

On December 29th we beat the clock to get to Cochin airport on time only to find out that the flight was delayed for an hour. So we waited and waited… it was difficult as the anticipation of reaching Goa was strong and any delay was tolerated with irritation and boredom. Anyway, time passed, the plane arrived and we went to paradise. But more of that later.