Of monsoon, love and freedom (Chapter 5)

Staying in a single place for so long offers you a chance to closely observe the livelihood of the natives and practically acknowledge diversity as a bridge that segregates YET links our cultures and unites us as a nation. Kerala is one of those states which is inhabited by less mortals, but abundance of nature. The colour of green is splashed from the palate of the creator and mother earth has merrily submerged and surrendered herself to it. I would love to allocate a long vacation at some probable point of time in my life to squander around the state and re-plug to the part of my heart I’ve lost there.

Finally, you would be reading none of this now and I will not be revisiting this after years if I hadn’t come across one person – Mrs. Lyla B. Das ma’am; our much esteemed, highly acclaimed and deeply endeared faculty in-charge. The woman has lived such an illustrious career and had an exceptional influence on the existence of hundreds of her students, of which I was fortunate enough to be one (officially the last intern she’d be mentoring attributing to her retirement a year after). Sitting and discussing things along with her, we were awestruck by her personality and couldn’t stop admiring her, increasingly by the end of the internship period.

In order to spend especial time with her, we proposed to her for a lunch, which to our delight she uncoupled time from her schedule and agreed to. So, on our last Friday in Calicut, she drove together with us to a restaurant in Mukkam, a town further ahead of Kattangal. Relishing a tasty lunch (which we were pranked to pay for), we discussed a wide spectrum of subjects encircling literature, cinema, food, politics, careers, relationships, places, and so on. We pointed her our domicile state on the political and described the north-south contrast; on which she disclosed the gap between north and south Kerala. We mentioned the generation gaps which she defied and quoted Socrates. I recommended her to watch Dead Poets Society while she animated Adam Robert from Baby’s Day Out. 

Not for a second, it occurred as if we were seated opposite such a reputed professor. She’s always been like that friend we love to gossip heart-to-heart with! A perfect epitome to why age is just a mere number (she was 64 then and is retired now), she’s here to keep deceiving people on that. Will always be grateful to her for being so considerate, kind, friendly and cool!

It was certainly tough bidding her goodbye on the last day in her office. It’s not every day that you get to come across people who bestow upon you lots of life lessons, transforming it to an extent. Since you’re reading this ma’am, I only wish to see you again someday, perhaps when our ages cross!

NIT Calicut has been intimating to me in just two months which apparently my own college has not come close to. We left the campus at 04:30 on the early morning of 5^th July amidst heavy rainfall of every drop resembling the one which first greeted us 59 days ago. This marked the completion of the beautiful circle of two-sided eternal love for the place. Couldn’t have asked for a better farewell! It was an unusual moment of penetrating emotions with KK’s Alvida and Arijit’s Chhana Mereya playing in Thakur’s speaker en route to the station.

Here's a short poem I eventually penned as a summary of my love for Kozhikode and its amazing inhabitants -

I've brought back tales
From a land far far away
God's own country they say!

Of people so considerate
Innocent and cheerful as their trait

Of monsoon like no other
and freedom that outstretched further...

Running unbound to the seashore
and the heart infiltrated
by appeasing downpour

Bus rides to Palayam
in conjunction with songs Malyalam

Evening walks to Kattangal
Pleasing cafes to sit and mull

Turned misfits at Sarovaram Biopark
But the panoramic view from
Karoonji Mala surely left a mark

Perched by rocks in
the beach Beypore
till the sun vanished into the horizon...

Sinked this all in
scenes I had never seen heretofore

A place that was my abode
The kaleidoscopic Kozhikode

What was it that kept me anchored so insanely? It was the fact that without conscience, duty or concern for the future, everything about the 2 months spoke of enjoyment, abandonment and attention to the inner solace of the self. I was having the best time of my life then and I’m glad I squeezed, slurped and digested every drop of the journey as if it was the ultimate chance for me to jump into a window of hedonism. It all felt like I was bolting freely in a route leading nowhere but as I turned back, it was as if every mile hitchhiked was turning unforgettable.

Sure as I'm breathing

Sure as I'm sad

I'll keep this wisdom in my flesh

I leave here believing more than I had

This Love has got

No ceiling

AFTERWORD –

We spent a day wandering around Kochi on 5^th July and finally headed back home on 6^th. We went to the grand St. George Forane Church to kneel down before Jesus; exhausted ourselves in the country's largest Lulu International shopping mall and took a stroll in the Marine drive. To celebrate our last night in Kerala, we gulped down a decent amount of beer and searched for a stay. Yet again, we were caught up in the OYO scam but this time, were high and infuriated enough to involve the cops! To our disbelief, they literally made it within 7 minutes. After half an hour of dispute with the staff and OYO customer care, we sobered down and surrendered to pay some extra bucks to finally retire. Hence, that’s how our finale episode of the Kerala story will stay indelible.

I initiated to pen all this down in Calicut sitting by the window of my hostel room open to the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops over banana leaves. That was when we had three or four of our last days there while I managed to compile around two meagre pages of word file. 

Writing, as I have personally come across, is 99% procrastination and 1% being willing to rebel against going back to the desk. It’s about waiting for the push and the immediacy to fuel you up. It may come around in the form of a paragraph in a book or an inspiring scene from a movie or drops of rain. And in this case, it has been a consolidation of the rain outside my window in my place and the plight of not being able to dig out such essential luxury hereafter and the advent of my new journey away from this homely ceiling which by the time you’re reading this, I’m already living.

Until we meet again..

Auf Wiedersehen!