Being a Woman
She’s a temptress, confident in her beauty, beguiling the unwary traveller. She’s sensual and mysterious, whispering about adventure, and secrets waiting to be unlocked. She’s playful. She’s a seductress. She’s my Kerala, drenched in rains and revelling in gay abandon.
Kerala is my home state, yet during the monsoon she leaves me breathless with her beauty. Dear traveller, don’t linger among the dust and chaos of the cities or big towns, venture further into the land. Into the villages and small lil towns where each bend in the road opens new vistas. Swollen rivers gush through the verdant greenery, pausing only to dally with the sloping branch of a tree or a defiant rock. Tiny stone bridges dare to form pathways across the playful waters. Nature runs amok and there’s green wherever you turn. There’re so many shades of green that even an artist would be befuddled by the array. Kerala in the rains is spectacular !
As you drive down you’ll find tall trees bordering slick black roads, with the blue grey sky forming a stunning backdrop to the brooding trees. There’s an explosion of green wherever the eye travels. Rambunctious wild plants clamber up walls and trees, trying to tumble out of the boundaries set by man. Mossy green walls look cool and inviting and I’m beset by a strange longing to rest my cheeks against the smooth velvety surface and forget all my worries. Adding to my lethargic mood is the bluish grey woodsmoke lazily curling up from blackened brick chimneys. As we move on, with the only sounds coming from the swish of the wipers and the murmur of the rain, I feel at peace, with myself and with the world.
The Earth exults in the embrace of the rain and all around me is a celebration of Nature. Flowers spill out of pots. Beautiful red hibiscus , tiny white jasmine and golden yellow marigold smothering each other with an abundance of love. Every where I look, the flora refuses to remain within borders. It’s as if the greenery has come out to play. It’s difficult not to let the mind exult and leap at these sights. The emerald hued fields sway to the soundless melodies carried by the winds. The red muddy ground begs to be trampled upon and I can almost feel the squishiness of the warm gooey mud squelching between my toes. Slender coconut trees stand guard over this lush land which has after all, been named after them.
As I travel further, the wet black road stretches ahead like a satin ribbon holding the unruly greenery at bay. The rains have washed away the dirt and grime and everything looks amazingly fresh. The colourful houses of Kerala look happy and bright. They remind me of building blocks thrown haphazardly into the greenery making their presence felt by the improbable colours they sport. Almost like shining pieces of candy in a green velvet bag. I tip my head out of the car and breathe in deep lungfuls of freshness, a combination of the fresh air and crushed leaves.
This is one journey where I don’t want to reach my destination. The rains in Kerala have worked their magic on me. There’s a sense of expectancy in the rain soaked air, a feeling that something special is about to happen; a feeling that I’m special; a deep sense of belonging which settles over me. Kerala has once again cast a spell on me. I’m truly and totally besotted !