Its day 3 of the honeymoon. Or may be I should pretentiously call it 'post wedding holiday'. Life isn't half bad when you're sitting on the side berth, typing in to the Air, listening to Love Mera Hit Hit. Of course, I'm sharing the side berth with Peepu, who has been a little less of a husband since the holiday started, like just not, asking me to turn down the volume on my ipod. Boo! I'm hoping he reads this post sooner than later. He did please me with the conversation on China and Communism this morning. He's now nudging me for attention, which I ain't going to give him.
Just a week back I was on a vastly distant time zone, about to fly 12,000 kms to get back to Delhi from Boston. Now I'm in on a train- from Trivandrum to Cochin. The emotion is similar. It feels like the heart is getting wider, opening up more, increasingly I spend more time in transit. The heart breaks its boundaries. Its sees more feels more, introspects much more given the time spent alone, and frees itself from all the constraints one feared might emerge with age. The music in the ears contributes intensely to the feeling.
We spent two days in Kovalam. We were here last year too, and this time was much quieter since it was just us as opposed to the whole firm here last year. We stayed at the gorgeous Leela, in one of the beach facing villas. The rooms were outstanding. Earthy, and large enough. The bathrooms had these mini tubs, which are way more romantic than the standard tubs. As once steps out of the bed room, you can see the expanse of the Arabian Sea, with the wavs crashing against the rocks, making a sound which still lingers somewhere in the back of my head. We didn't spend all our time in the resort. As much as I like to tell myself that I want to relax, I'm often restless after the first few hours. We were quick to step out to the local beaches and the restaurants on the promenade. We headed straight to Malabar Cafe, where the patron recognized me from last year, and recognized that I was the visitor who took a ton of pics. He then brought over what we went for: Beer in coffee mugs (in the absence of a bar license), Butter Garlic Prawns and Beef Masala. What followed was an evening and night of heart burn. But for a good cause. We went back again the next night.
This time we hired a Bullet and biked over to the backwaters too. When it comes to the backwaters, believe the hype. We hired a boat from the backwaters for two hours. Our boatee, he took us through the waters, with beautiful little channels, pockets of bird life, villagers bathing and children dancing (obviously to assume the travelers) along the way. There was a restaurant on the way where we stopped for coffee and Onion pakodas. Once we got back on to the boat, our man steered us towards the point where the river meets the sea. This was the loneliest part of the country I have been to. May have been something to do with the season, but there wasn't a soul on the beach. the waves were wild, and especially prominent against the mild sunset. I was personally fascinated with the narrow channel that links the river to the sea. It was about 3 feet wide, and noticeable deeper than the rest of the beach. The sea water on either side of the channel was cold but the river water in the channel, comfortably warm. On looking up, all I would see was Peepu against the expanse. I hadn't seen something like it before and was glad we made the trip. We biked back to get our second round of Beef Masala and Beer in coffee mugs.
We're on our way to Cochin now. We'll spend day there before we fly off to foreign shores. Foreign shores, I just said. Foreign no longer means what it used to, I realize. Earlier, there was novelty associated with traveling to outside India. It was an opportunity to see a world less accessible to most of one's friends and family. We would be fascinated by their unique coffee machines, variety of beer, sophisticated and high quality outfits, colorful lip balms and overall their push button life. We would meet other travelers and exchange stories. We would take trains and scrimp on food in order to stay within a really hard budget. We would gather experiences and stories to tell our folks back at home. Back home, we would fall in love with well traveled folks. It has changed now, hasn't it? Our stories are no longer unique, and it doesn't fascinate to see how many cities one has pinned their flag on. Online travel meters have been done to death. No one cares. 3 passports pasted against each other with valid visas in each is common place. In a way, we're in a great place. We can now do what we want. And exactly that. No norms to follow. No stories to advertise on facebook. No flags to pin.
I'm listening to Amy MacDonald. I love every line in this song, especially the one that goes "where you gonna sleep tonight?"
