Kerela

Before You Sail, Build the Boat and the Vision

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Boats at shore always seem out of place. They aren’t built to sit still—they belong to the waves, the winds, the unknown.

Watching them, ready and restless, just beside the sea, you can almost feel it—the pull of adventure, the promise of distance.

But every long voyage is actually two voyages. The first happens in the mind—where dreams set sail long before the hull touches water. The second, on land—where boats are built strong, crafted well, ready to endure what lies ahead.

Because when the mind doesn’t imagine wide enough, or the boat isn’t built strong enough, voyages don’t happen the way they should.

So, what voyages are you on?
How far have you traveled in your mind?
And most importantly—how strong is your boat?

Perspective Changes Everything: A Reflection from the Hills of Vagamon

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It’s always about the frame. How you frame the problem changes the problem itself.

One moment, I was talking to people, standing beside them, sharing thoughts. Then came the trudge down the rolling hills—a pleasant, happy descent through Vagamon’s stunning landscape.

Thirty minutes later, I turned around.

The people I had just spoken to? Now tiny silhouettes on the horizon. The hill? A mere bump in the distance. The shifting light made them look like mannequins in a store—motionless, almost unreal.

Perspective changes everything. What looks overwhelming up close may seem insignificant from afar. What seems impossible now may, with distance, reveal new possibilities.

Try changing the frame—you might see things in a whole new way.

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He makes it look easy. A tad too easy. There are chains on his body all centred around his chest. At the end of the chain is a ball of fire. He goes on stage and swirls with the fire. The audience lets out a gasp, even as he goes on.

The ball of fire, stemming from his chest acting as his defence. I learn that this is an ancient martial art of Kerela, Kalari. Several centuries old, rich in its tradition and deadly in its techniques.

My mind wanders as the performance continuous. Its not any fault of the performance which is stellar.

It is my own fleeting mind which sees something else.

Anything that comes from deep within you, will be your best weapon. Your ball of fire. When you twirl with passion in whatever domain you choose and keep learning the techniques better, you too are a warrior.

The fire of passion can be the best weapon in the face of severe obstacles. That makes an unstoppable warrior and a sight for the eyes to consume.

May the fires within us keep us moving ahead!

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When it rains it pours. At times you catch the rain because it leaves an imprint on itself. Or at least what was part of of itself.
As the rain pelted the roof with shower, the water ran off from a corner of the roof. A mini waterfall of sorts.

The rain didn’t care or pause. And as one more sharp drop landed on rain water that was running away, it created a small puddle. A dynamic puddle if you will.
#puddle #rain #monsoon #kerela #trivandrum #thiruvananthapuram #travel #travelblogger #blogging #puddle #joy #love #Poovar (at Poovar)

Dialogues.

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Me: You are up early
He : This is regular. Everyday.

Me: Do you catch a lot of fish at this time?
He: I do my best. Sometimes I catch. Sometimes I dont.

Me: You are alone here.
He: In this world we all are. It doesnt matter.

Me: How many children do you have ?
He: Three

Me: What do they do ?
He: They go to the municipal school.

Me: Is it a good school ?
He : I dont know. They go. They come. They are happy. I am happy that they are happy.

Me: Have you considered a big boat ?
He: I have thought about it. I am happy with this. On a good day, I make about Rs.200/-. On a bad, its next to nothing.

Me: You could make much more with a big boat !
He: Your educated mind will tell you so. But I am happy this way. No loans. No folding of hands before some money lender. Just about enough to give the family what it needs.

Pause. Reflective pause. Silence.

He: Just about enough of money. I dont understand you educated people. Running behind money.

Saying so, he lowered the boat into the water and went fishing. I kept looking as his steady rowing took him farther away. Aware that in his matter of speaking, he had brought me closer to myself.

Which is when the phone rang. I had to get back and get ready to participate in the conference. We were to discuss ‘Inclusive growth’ !

Poovar in pictures

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River commerce

The closest I had come to this word was an ‘actuary’. The actuaries that I knew were brilliant folks working on subjects which only they and their ilk could comprehend. I mean, I didn’t understand much of what they did and consequently was perpetually perplexed at the big bucks that they were rumoured to take home at the end of every month.

But this was called an ‘Estuary’. An estuary, I learnt, is an area where there is inflow of both river and sea water. In Poovar, the river Neyyar flows freely. Beyond which is a strip of beach. Beyond which is the mighty Arabian sea !

It was sight to savour. Ofcourse, it is not so often that the only avenue of commute to a place that I stay in, is by boat ! Nor do I come across such verdant green interspersed with fervent blue of a quiet river bordered by clean yellow sand holding a restive sea at bay !


Floating cottages on a river. Do you see the wisp of a beach afar ?



‘Floating cottages’ that are moored to land, that get mildly rocked by ripples from every passing boat. A mild sort of a rocking, that could make you think of a giant rocking chair !

Ripples in the river


faraway fishermen, pulling their net from the Arabian sea, while their shadows dance in the river

The scene and surrounding gives many an opportunity for picture postcards clicks. These obviously aren’t the best of pictures. The professionals were at it. These were the best I could manage.


boat jetty

Of the several places that were there, the boat jetty was the picturesque. In my humble opinion. Regular readers perhaps notice that for some odd reason I find these transitory places very attractive. Railway stations. Airports. Bus stands. Now, boat jetties. Perhaps its got something to hop on and hop off.


This place is, as a colleague put it, “is ‘infested’ with honey mooners!” I recall a couple which kept staring at me. They would, wouldn’t they. Who wouldn’t. If they see a madcap photographing the bench at the boat jetty for half an hour!

For all you may care, they wouldn’t have noticed me nor the boat jetty nor the river beyond, the Arabian sea or whatever. For they were absorbed in each other. Rightfully so. I think.


All that is besides the point. If you need some peace and quiet, well, head to Poovar. Its a small coastal place close to Thiruvananthapuram. If not for anything else, you’ll learn a new word : estuary !

I promise you, the word does not convey a fraction of the beauty the place holds.


Earlier post on this trip is here

K for…

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Rarely do I feel impressed with my amateurish dabbling with the camera. This moment was one such.

Kalarippayattu. That’s an ancient martial art form of the south. Kerala to be specific. It’s a fetching sight to see these fighters with bodies of gymnasts move with such agility and panache. With just a dash of imagination and a sprinkling of a story, any onlooker could well imagine how revered and soakingly absorbing a duel would have been just a few hundred years ago.

Oh, not to say a modern duel isn’t a sight to stop, hold your breath and stare in semi open mouthed awe, long enough for a few large mosquitoes to conduct a few sorties down the alimentary canal. More often than not, such goose bump causing art forms remain in the obscure confines of the past.

A trip to Kerala and a stay in a hotel at ‘attractive prices per night’ (which would be equivalent to what your father would have paid to buy the entire property, when he was your age), usually throw in a cultural performance or two.

Even better when the Company that pays your salary also pays for the trip and the room, in the name of a conference, harbouring extravagant hopes that such investments will pay off. In such cases, a hotel gladly throwing in ‘exposure to culture’ performances is de rigueur.

Kalari quite a popular performance. There are jumps. Fights with bare hands. Sticks. Fire. And several else. These are new techniques for the coporate types who are used to used to one martial art form called ‘Powerpoint’. Which ofcourse comes loaded with ‘bullet’ points! If the bullets don’t get you, boredom will.

In such Kalari performances though, young men spar on stage. Synchronised movement, overflowing with synergy. With swords, shields, some kind of a flexible sword, sticks, daggers and such else, with seamless movement. Like in the snap above, a fire bush at the end of the a rope fastened to the chest is used as weapon. Artfully swinging and moving about.

The corporate types usually look half in awe. Cheer in slightly inebriated delusion. Bite into the chicken with new found gusto and take a few more swigs of whatever drink their hands reach out to.

The really skilled photographers amongst them find the perfect spot to click. Additionaly, the morose ones aim their cameras from different corners snaps, click vapid snaps and write blogposts beginning ‘Rarely do I feel impressed with my amateurish dabbling with the camera..’

Ofcourse there is the mandatory crowd of American tourists. Their skin standing out amongst the crowd and their hair standing out on their skin. Staring. If I were them, I would wonder what all this fuss with Kalarippayattu and sparring with swords and building bodies and muscles was about. When all it took was a walk down the store and buy a .32 magnum and blow the brains off every living form in the locality.

Incase you are yet to look up Kalari, here is the link.

Incase you still haven’t, it is a martial art form that’s been around for ages.It was banned by the British. At one point in history, it was as common as ‘reading and writing’ and everybody in society was proficient in it.

Incase you are still wondering, what brings this post up now, I am back from another trip to a place that I have been in love with for ages : Kerala. Ofcourse, more posts & pictures follow.

But, boy, am I pleased with this snap!

Rants & pictures !

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They don’t call it Gods own country for no reason. It provided some wonderful opportunities for playing with light and the camera. Here are some snaps from a Kerela trip that happened some time back.

Just as the snaps load up on your screen : My MTNL internet connection is woeful at home choosing to go on strike on a whim. I am hastily pushing through this post, when it has chosen to show me that it ideed can work at top speed and this months bill will include charges for internet !

To compliment that, to blog on such esoteric topics from the workplace, well, err, is not allowed. So, please people, put up with my silence.

In the meantime, I continue to shout out into the world through the twitter accounts and I don’t have a modicum of memory of what all I have shouted out to the world. The chief twitter account I use is @KavisMusings . Well, that’s a subject for another time.

For now, here are the pictures.


Silhouettes have fascinated me since the time I knew they were called ‘silhouettes’. I used to hate the spelling but quite liked the way the word is pronounced. With a twang that has almost an Italian connection !


All these snaps were taken at places somewhere around Kottayam. ‘Panchali Medu‘ is one such. I don’t raise an eyebrow everytime we go far off, deep inside Maharashtra or down into Kerela where there is folklore around the exiled Pandava brothers with Draupadi in tow having lived there for a while. Panchali as Draupadi is better known in the south, has this hill named after her.




She is supposed to have taken bath in the local pond etc etc, details which I omit writing on, and leaving your imagination to do its work.

The modern day ‘medu’ (RTT : raised plateau) has 14 crosses. I wont tell you why. For I don’t know myself. I only know that the place has an extravagance of ‘awesome’. There is an endless breeze, a feast of green for the eye. The clouds rolling over your head and tease you to reach and touch them if you can.

Off Kuttikanum is another green zone : Wagamon. Sometimes spelt with a ‘V’ instead of a W. Whatever, it is , It doesn’t alter green beauty. Green as in GREEN. Meadows. Plateaus. Hills. Throw in some mist. Some people who are ever willing to help. Water bodies that tempt. Well, in sometime, you could have romance brewing in the air.




Value for money romance. For the place is relatively unexplored ! Some unconfirmed news has it that Wagamon is called the ‘Scotland of Asia’. I haven’t seen Scotland. But I can go as far as I can and tell you, Wagamon is a lovely place to go to.

If any of those didn’t get you excited enough to pack your bags and include Kerela a big mindshare for your next travel, here is something that will do the trick. I ooze confidence in stating this.


Chips. Slices of a particular type of plantains. “Plantains” was to give the humble ‘banana’ a twang of fancy. Nevertheless, slices, deep fried in authentic coconut oil. You just cant stop with one or two for that matter. Two minutes on the lips and a lifetime on the hips. For sure.

But those two minutes they are on the lips, they give you a lifetime of yearning for the next time you will head to Kerela !

Earliers posts on the same trip are here, here, here and here !