Twilight of Dreams

Few days back the students at my college approached me with an odd request. They wanted me to give them topics for poetry, short story and essay writing competitions to be held at the college in eve of the arts day celebrations. Even us the ones at medical side have arts day where we show cases our literature, dance, music skills among others. In my student life I used to participate in some of them with a bit of success. This time I will not be a participant but a judge. For the poetry writing I gave them the topic ‘Twilight of dreams’. Cliché; still it sounded good in my head. Back at home while I was idling on FB, I thought, well why don’t I write a poem on that topic? After it’s been a while since I flexed my poetry muscle. Well here it is.

Last of the dreams have withered and fallen,

Like the yellow leaves from a desolate oak in fall

Thought the tree hopes for its life back in spring

None is reserved for me after this twilight.

Born from an acorn of lust in the womb of love,

Weaned on the warm milk sweet as nectar

I grew up to stature that made my father proud

Even when I never saw him grow old as I grew strong.

The world was mine oyster which I with sword did open,

My conquests shadowed the little things in life like joy

The man in me died a slow death and was born a spector

An empty being filled with things that coins would buy.

On the crest of my rise I found my fairer half

Who gifted me the crown of fatherhood that swelled my self

I raced and raged to make more shiny bits of silver

Showering on my son missing the scent of tears in them.

With great pride I saw him grow like a nurtured tree

Proud, Strong and sure like myself of the old

As I felt my bones crack while I drifted down the stairs

I saw him swell and smile in the spoils of his victories.

Today as I spy my grand kids play by the falling leaves

Finding joy in things as little as its golden shower in breeze

I wonder what I have missed in my long lost youth

All those memories  just for a bag of dead coins.

 PS: The pics are random ones from the net to create an ambiance, credits the owners. Please done sue me :)

Taming the Mustached Leopard Hill.

All my hiking trips are well organized, planned and prepared ones. My buddies include guys who have more forest and hills under their boots that what the everyman have in his entire lifespan. I am often the baby of the group and depend on them for a safe and comfy trek. But on my recent hike to Meshapulimala, the second highest peak in Kerala, it all changed. This time I am to lead a group of 52 kids with almost zero hiking experience to one of the most challenging routes in Kerala. What could go wrong?

The plan was to start the trip from Munnar to Suryanelli (yes the infamous one) by 6am, cover the 12KM track through low hills and tea plantations in 4x4 jeeps, reach the base camp at Kolukkumala and ascent the final peak by 8am so that we can take our sweet time doing the hike and be back at our resort for a late lunch and a nice rest. As always the plan got blown sky high.

We left Munnar after a light bite of bread (yuck) and biscuits to prevent any visceral projectiles during the rough ride in the 4x4 by 10am. The jeep guys were waiting for us with seven sweet rides and we began our ascent to the base camp. Each jeep held eight people; I was in the lead jeep driven by Mr Ebin. He had been driving this route for the last 24 years and had a lot of stories to tell from the days of the British raj to the present day. As we moved higher, the terrain got more unruly and we were thrown around in the jeep like rags in a washing machine. Ebin seems to get a high out of our screams and did a few tight corners and skids to spice up the ride. My primary concern was not that the jeep may nose dive to 4000 feet below but someone sitting behind me might throw up on me! Sorry kids, I did not trust your guts then.  

                 

           

According to Ebin the hill is actually called Meesha-pullu-mala which means the hill of the mustache grass and was wrongly quoted in the mallu flick Charlie as Meesha-puli-mala, meaning the hill of the mustached leopard. He even went on to claim that he have seen leopards, deer’s, wild tuskers and bison’s run rampage through these grass lands numerous times.  In his wisdom I learned that the tea plantation was established in 1905 and is expected to have a life of 400 years. Out of awe I plucked out a bunch of leaves and was about to chew them and Ebin shouted at me like I have caught a snake.

“No saaar, don’t eat. It’s full of poisonous chemicals they sprayed!!”

“What ? Are these not fresh leaves from the highest tea plantation in the world?”

“Yes saaar, but the real organic ones are fully exported. They sell the sprayed ones in India”

How reassuring. We kicked out the British to handle these plantations to the MNC’s. The workers here still break their back for a day’s pay; we drink the toxic tea while the foreigners enjoys organic cuppa. I marveled at our progress and freedom.

We reached the base camp at 12.15Pm and I quickly instructed the kids to travel in groups and never alone. Further I selected few boys of able mind and body with a sense of responsibility to be our rear guard. Their duty was to make sure that they were the last ones and no one lags behind them, while I would be the guide and travel ahead. As we started I had the feeling that we would soon split into many groups but I was not worried as I had faith in the guys behind. A group of around 10 girls were on my heels and we quickly covered the first one kilometer only to know that the others have already lagged much behind. Unfazed we walked on as the climb and the chance to slip began to get steeper. Slowly the kids in our group stared to drop to catch their breath and join the main body while we labored our way ahead.  

Half way into the hike, I was left with three girls while Shamaz sir decided to quit the climb and rest his legs. The path ahead was very steep and the soil crumbled below our feet threatening to roll us down. Anisha threw away her sandals and stared to go barefoot for a better grip. I was skeptical of this move but the few foreigners who we met on the ascent clapped and looked at her in awe. Slowly we inched and rested our way up on to that lofty mountain. I kept on motivating the kids with stories of bravery and determination and pointed out how awesome they are to attempt this hike. I pointed out that we haven’t seen a single girl on this trek yet other than them and they were truly pioneers.

Ascending a particularly steep slope and an acute turn, I spied the peak what was around 100m away. I turned and told Anisha and Devika, 

“ So who is going to be the Edmund Hillary of SSDC?”

Both of them increased their speed and managed to reached the peak in a matter of minutes. I have climbed many hills and I always felt elated when I touch the peak but this time it was different. A sense of achievement in me reflected the grit of these first time hikers who did the impossible.

After a few minutes a few more kids joined us on the peak. The fourth person on the peak was a Akshay while the podium positions were taken by the girls. Few selfies later we began our descent and on the way we met the rest of the group in various stages of ascent. I encouraged them to keep going and advised them to stick together. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had an uneasy feeling that I may have to climb back here again but I ignored it. 

We took a detour through some thick jute forests to avoid a slippery climb and got back to the base camp without incident by 4.30pm. In my calculation the rest of the group were around 1hour behind us and should reach back by 5.30Pm.

Minutes and hours tricked by so did the black tea in my cup (hopefully not the toxic one). It was now past 5.30 and there was no sign of anyone. The shadows grew long in the fading light of the dusk as did my worries. When the sun was about to exchange his position with the stars, I could no longer wait and I decided to head back into the mountain.  My first climb was systematic with a stick for hiking pole, knee braces to minimize the impact and safe threading on the uneven terrain to avoid injuries but this time I was in a mad dash to get back to my kids up there.

“Saar don’t go alone in the dark up there. There was a leopard sighting last week”.

Now what I felt was a different kind of fear. It was a battle between fear of myself being alone in the dark probably staked by a leopard against the thought of my students afraid and lost in that mountain. I picked up a stick for support, lighted up my mobiles flash and ran for it. In the darkness I saw many shadows stalking, some slithered as I almost stepped on them while a distant howl sent a primal chill down my spine. I don’t know if all these were real or tricks played by my troubled mind, but at that moment they were all real for me. I shouted the names of the students as I ran panting and out of breath. I watched in awe as the moon rose in all his glory and the silhouette of the mountains gave the perfect foreground for the splash of stars which we called the Milky Way.  I spied a shooting star cruise and disappear behind the dark giants and I made my wish for the safety of my kids.

Somewhere far off I heard someone shout my name and I saw multiple flickering lights coming towards me. I hurried up the rocks and tripped on a root landing face down; luckily the only thing injured was my pride. Brushing up and collecting the stick and my mobile, I ran up the last ledge and there to my immense relief found the kids scared but super excited.

“Sir, we had the greatest time of our lives.  It was so scary and the risks were huge. Some of us slipped and fell couple of times and we all helped each other “

“This is the most memorable day of our life. It was so adventurous and we never felt so close to each other ever”

“Sir, this is how life is to be lived. So huge risks, but our guts and the force of our friendship helped us to do this”

My god, they were so excited. Sacred, yes but even more happy. Some sported small cuts and bruises but the grin on their faces was even more evident. The sense of achievement of conquering the second highest mountain in Kerala, trekking through the highest tea plantation in the word under a star lit sky while stalked by an imaginary(?) leopard; well how else can you feel alive than this?

On reaching the base camp I once again counted the grinning faces to ensure that none are missing and proceeded to the jeeps waiting to take us to our dinner and a warm bed. My rearguard guys have done their job well. They took care of their friends in my absence in the most admirable way. On our way back rocking in the 4x4 I looked at the gem splattered sky and wondered that how lucky we were to enjoy this pristine land. I asked Ebin, how do the people survive here with no electricity or medical help and in constant fear of animal attacks?

“Saar, the spirit of the mountain look after the ones who comes to him.”

Probably it was Ebin’s spirit who looked after us after all.

PS: Its been a few days, and this is how I remember the day. Okay, maybe I have dramatized it a bit, but the story remains the same. This is the greatest hike that I ever had.

A Throwback to College Days

When I was requested to accompany the first year students for a six day trip I was surprised, skeptical, excited, terrified and responsible, rightly in that order. Surprised since I haven't even seen these kids ever, skeptical as I am not the best of roll models out there, excited as we will be scaling Meesahpulimala, terrified as its a crowd of 52 kids and two of us and responsible as the parents started calling me. 

In my write up I will be referring the students as kids not because they are little kids but that is how I thought of them and of course that will make me feel big and wise ! They were a heterogeneous group composed of instantly likable ones, the ones who run the show, the cool gangs, the ones with too cool to school attitude etc. The key point from my perspective is to keep a straight face while screaming internally or laughing my ass off to keep the kids in line. I could be super friendly with them but then at some point I will have to shout at the unlucky one who takes it too far and that spoils the day. Better keep the illusion of fear than that. Now kids, you know why I kept my distance.

The trip began with DJ Snake and Dillon Francis screaming the roof off the bus while the bus rocked by the dance moves and I was like 'It its hardy six minutes and I have to endure six days of this'. Day one at Waynadu began with a disappointing breakfast and an even more disappointing morning as Idakkal caves, our first destination was closed due to some reason. We backtracked and went to Meenmutti falls where the kids had a real blast while I preached on a high rock to keep an eye on them. For me water bodies and youthful enthusiasm is always a bad combination. The lunch was messed up as our timings were behind the schedule and the tour operators could not fix it. I had to step in to usher the kids into a hotel and get them seated as each seats got vacated. I must appreciate the cooks on the marvelous dish they had. Every thing from boiled rice to fish fry had the same bland neutral taste. The rest of the day was spent roaming around Banasurasahgar dam and then to bed at a not so bad hotel after a good dinner.

The right snack to be had, anywhere, anytime

The second days plan was to start at 5 am and we did so by around 8 am and Ooty felt so far yet so close when in the highrange roads. After a tedious trip full of hairpin bends and vomiting kids and the movie 'Kali' we checked into Needle view point, the Shooting point, some crap restaurant that served food that was probably sourced from some college mess and finally the Lake. I requested the other staff Shamaz sir to accompany them to boating while I stayed back with the kids who were too weak from throwing up in the bus. Around six packed up and stared to Munnar. And there was a surprise, a camp fire out of nowhere. Half heart-ed dances and a few dumb songs later we hogged down the food that was actually good for a change and continued to Munnar.

Camp fire fiasco !

For me the day at Munnar was the most exciting one as we are attempting to hike the second highest peak in Kerala. The experience is too great and warrants a whole blog which will follow up shortly.

On the fourth day the kids were super excited to be at Wonderla because Duh! they are kids. I wandered around planning my blogs to come, enjoyed the water rides and the wave pool. 

My opinion on amusement parks !

By evening I could sense the sadness creep into the otherwise lit faces of the students as they realized their week at heaven is about to be over. The day was finally summarized with a visit to Lulu mall and the movie Oppam at PVR, which I must say, I enjoyed and by the next day morning we were back home.

From the view point of a staff, I think the trip could have improved a lot in planning and execution. A bit more care in selecting the itinerary, promptness in timings and most importantly the booking of hotels, food etc would have made the trip even better.

Visit by Jinu at Ooty with his Bullet

From my personal perspective, I enjoyed the trip a lot. It reminded me of the college days of the old. Those jubilant days that I thought was lost forever was gifted to me by these unknown students. I made a lot of new friends, met one old one (Jinu I am looking at you and your bullet bro) and reconnected with the joy of watching Mallu movies. I enjoyed all that were screened -  Kali, Aadu, 2 Countries, Happy wedding and Oppam. I was in touch with the new-gen and their way of selfie taking, chunkkz calling, tagging everyone in the world in FB... life and I felt truly alive and in time. 

Thank you guys for that.

I too had a selfie spree :)

To Be A Kid Again

Rivulets of sweat drained down my forehead burning my eyes, the lungs were screaming out of protest, the legs have long gone into automatic mode where they just keep moving irrespective of my wishes. I wonder if that increasing tud tud tud was from my furious heart or from the shinkarimelam guys at the half way point. The mile marker says 10 kilometers which means I still have another 11 kilomeres to run to finish my half marathon and I am already out of juice. The intoxicating scents from the Kochi’s spice market keeps my senses sharp so does the increasingly catchy beat of the chendas. Gathering my strength or what was left of it, I focused on short term goals like reaching the next water station, catching up with that lady running ahead of me (my ego !), reaching that telephone post or even managing to put the next foot forward. Running into the ground suddenly I am greeted with a huge cheer from the onlookers and the marathon volunteers pushing energy drinks to me, I wonder why they cheer for someone who probably is the 100^th person to reach the turnaround point in a 300 strong race. I reached the chenda guys where I find couple of the runners dancing to the beat and I couldn’t help myself from joining them. This is what running is all about, the joy, the togetherness, the sense of accomplishment, the ability to reach that point between ecstasy and serenity while the health benefits are just the byproducts.

I was always a couch potato, the kid who is picked into a team at school the last. I was the one who used to pant after climbing a flight or stairs, the one who would rather wait for an hour at the stop than run a few steps to catch that bus. I used to consider eating a heap of junk food and scoring a century on the weighing scale a great achievement. I was a legitimate idiot preparing myself to embrace the so called life style disease and stepping into the mundane life of the everyday man. I often used to see people cycling and running early in the morning and often in the evening and wondered if they haven’t got anything better to do until one day I decided to do that myself. No they don’t have anything better to do. They are not suffering when running a marathon or cycling hundred kilometers or even hiking up a mountain, they are enjoying every minute of it.

Humans are the only animals who swapped their natural ability to run, maintain extreme endurance for everyday pleasures like a swing of drink and the comfort of a couch. We are all born with the ability to lead a very active life style and if we could just maintain that, most of the so called lifestyle diseases like diabetes, hypertension, obesity, joint/back pains can be kept at bay. 

When we were kids, we never stopped for anything. Even before we would walk like an adult, we started running, we explored things and we smiled a lot. We were happy for the simplest pleasure of life that we could run around, the first taste of freedom. Then somewhere in the journey to adulthood, someone told us to sit down and not to move around. Someone told us it not proper to run but to walk. Running is for athletes and medals and not for the common man. We lost the joy of movement, the thrill of exploration and the happiness we inherently had took a back seat, and we smiled less. As a result a few diseases joined us carving away a little bit of our health every day.

This is not an irreversible change. You could always reclaim your lost ability, your vigor and your happiness; all it takes is a little time from your busy day and an even little effort. It is easy to get fit if you truly wish it to happen. You can always begin by walking for a couple of days, and then increase your pace into a brisk walk then to a slow jog and with a few weeks you would be running. Not only the weighing scales goes down, your belt size shrinks and soon enough you would have bigger plans in your mind, like say that marathon in a few months.

Step out of the comfort of your home and walk to the market instead of taking the car. Take the stairs instead of the elevators, and the next time when your kid runs, do not stop him but run with him. Stay active, stay healthy and stay happy.

Perseverance, thy name is O Rajagopal

One particular memory etched into my mind from the moral science class in primary school is the story of King Bruce and the spider. The king got his ass kicked in multiple battles and sought refuge in a dark cave to let the weather clear. In that damp dim den he spent time watching a spider weaving its web. This non radioactive spider was unable to make one particularly difficult jump to latch his thread to the wall. He tried unsuccessfully for nine times (according to Sister Mary) and fourteen (according to Sister Janet) until in that one superhero leap he managed to reach the wall and finish his web. That was dinner time for the spidey and revelation time for His Highness Bruce. Fired up Bruce gathered his men and  attacked with wit and war hammer until his foes bent their knee or lost their heads. The moral was perseverance is the key to victory.

I was always a fan of medieval stories of war and warlocks and found this tale very interesting though none of the morals rubbed on me. Around twenty years later when I saw the election result of Nemom where the first lotus bloomed in Kerala, Bruce and his spider came to my mind. I must confess the story of O Rajagopal and his victory after fifteen defeats trumps Bruce and his dumb spider any day and I insists that all moral science classes to have a chapter on him. 

Sri Rajgopal fondly called as Rajettan is a veteran BJP leader who served in various party positions from the days of Jana Sangh to the present day saffron alliance. He had held the office of state president, All India secretary and was a two time Rajya sabha member and minister for state during NDA rule under Prime Minister Vajpayee. 

What puts him apart is not that he broke the glass ceiling for BJP in Kerala which was so far a forbidden territory but his continued will to fight until victory. I am not a history nor political buff, but I am fairly certain that is no man who kept his chin up for half a century to taste victory. Rajettan's electoral debut was at Palakkad in 1965, fifty years and sixteen elections (Malayala Manorama May 20, 2016) later he soundly defeated LDF strongman V Sivankutty and some random dude put forward by the UDF to ensure that the lotus bloomed.

You may now throw away Bruce and his cobwebs for we now have a new hero to look up for inspiration. Even if you against BJP, dislikes Rajettan or is just a dumb rock in secret you can admire the man and look up to him for that bit of inspiration to nudge you to success in life.

Psssss..... This is not a political essay applauding the rise of BJP, that will come later. So chill and enjoy the read. Kudos !

A 30 Year Old Eulogy

I have now traveled 28200 million Kilometers or to be more exact I have traveled thirty times round the Sun as of today.  To the non-geeks who haven't got it yet, yes today is my 30th birthday. Happy birthday to me and thanks to all those guys who wished me the same in FB, Watsapp, calls and in my face, I love you all. Well not all of you but some :)

When I was googling for inspiration to blog about this very ordinary day, I found many quotes like dirty thirty, thirty and fabulous, 30 is the new 20, flirty thirty etc etc but the one that stood out was 'Now I am XXX'. Bless the Romans. Being thirty is just like any other day, you wake up grumpy and get on with your day and go back to bed grumpy but as this is a round figure and the conclusion of three decades on this decaying planet let me take a breather and introspect. 

First question, Is this where I imagined myself in my teens or twenties? In my teens my imagination was more about , well you know what (duh!) and in my early twenties, honestly I don't remember much. The late twenties was mostly trying to act like an adult and according to dear wife, failing every time.

Second question, What do I regard of my achievement? This is a trick question. The concept of achievement differs from person to person, someones achievement may feel like a trivial thing for me while mine may look like an impossible fete for some one else (LOL). Jokes aside, I think passing my graduation and post graduation in time with no back papers was pretty impressive with the very little effort that was invested in it. Juggling clinic, college and consultations - my three breadwinners is quite good, getting from flab to fit was awesome, all those running, biking, hiking and this blogging puts a smile on my face but my sunshine is my crazy wife and my awesome son.

Third question, Am I satisfied with my life? Hmmm. Am I? I have absolutely no idea on that question. I am happy most of the time, but pissed off to a point of depression at times. Sometimes I feel there must be more to life that the mundane chores it offer like travelling the world, then the reality hammers me in with a few bills to pay. Maybe I will comeback to that question after ten more years.

Fourth, What are my plans for the exciting times ahead?

Yes I asked that question only to reply with that meme :D

Fifth. Regrets? Life is like the game of Mario, do you regret playing it just because you fell down the sewage pipe and landed in shit? Of course not, you pick yourself up and battle on. Every fall is a lesson and the answer to that is to get up stronger and get cracking.

What a time to be alive !
I had waited 25 years to see this !!

Enough with the questions, I am happy for the last thirty years and grateful to everyone in that who made it whole. To my family and friends, I am thankful for putting up with all my bullshit and to my enemies and villains (this is my story so I am the hero and you are the villain) I thank you for being there to make my day colorful, because with out your meddling it will just be another day in 365 but you made those days that I will not forget. I look forward to more mundane life, adult responsibilities and of course more adventures ahead. 

Happy Birthday to Me !

A Tale of Neanderthals - Book Review

I am a lover of historical fiction. I devour them like an elephant in a cane field; though I haven't seen one (an elephant in a cane field) I assume it is an orgy of feeding. My arguments on my love for this genre is exhibited by the collection of Igguldens, Cornwells, Ghosh's in my library and  the fact that I always roll back to one book if this type whenever I hit the readers block. Yes there is such a thing called readers block when you want to read but you cannot. My love for this genre must have stemmed from my childhood love of all those Balarama Amarchitrakathas. Whenever I scour the secondhand stalls or the online stores my target is to get at least one book of historical fiction and many times I have came across the name Jean Auel and her Clan of the Cave Bear. 

The Book

It is definitely not a work of historical fiction but one of pre-historic fiction. The first book of the Earth's Children series was published back in 1980, adapted into a movie in 1986. The book was followed by five more books which I am yet to procure and devour. Clan of the Cave Bear (CCB) is set in prehistorical times when our precursors Cro-magnon man and the Neanderthals meet. Just like we dislike to an edge of homophobia of anything that makes us uncomfortable like race, religion and cast, the Neanderthals (called the Clan) was wary of the Cro-magnon (called the others). I find the name 'Others' used to describe the fair, blonde race of people from the snowy North too close for a coincidence to be used by GRR Martin to describe his Northern Ice Zombies. May be he too liked the CCB pretty much and decided to pay homage.

Movie poster based on the book

We follow the life of a 5 year old Cro-magnon girl named Ayala who was orphaned by an earthquake, attacked by a cave lion and finally rescued by a band of Neanderthals. Iza, the medicine woman in the Clan adopts Ayala as her daughter and the rest of the story follows Ayala's attempt to fit into the Clan despite her different origin, looks, method of thinking, abilities etc. The book is not unique in the sense of the plot or even the characters but because of the settings and how well we can relate the speculative history 25,000 years ago to the modern day. There is a male centered society with one leader, a second in command and a group trying to usurp them; there are prejudices about the unknown, the sense of oneness in the Clan, the high position enjoyed by the religious men, the orchestration of people who think different or do not follow the traditional ways, the brash youngsters, wise elders, disciplining of women by violence including rape. Apparently we haven't progressed much since the day we were hunting mammoth and grinding sticks to make fire wearing the fur of the lynx. 

The books description of the life in a cave and the survival in the forest is so splendid that you could see the bison stampeding, the ground trembling while the hunters prowl the grassland. In the end the book leaves you with a sense of awe and you wonder how brilliantly had the author created in her mind a world so strange to you but eerily familiar too. Well the answer to that question lies in those 470 pages.

The Lady who wrote it

To read list

Neanderthals according to Google

Google's Cro-magnon

                                                                       

Pssss... This is my first attempt in reviving a book, pardon the mistakes and do criticize you critical scum !

Pssss 2.... According to the knowledgeable goddess wiki, The Earths Children is being made into a TV series, rejoice !

Chasing Ghosts & Running Trails - A Travelouge

To Infinity & beyond

I know its a bit late to brag about my latest adventure but in my defense, I was super busy making up for those days wandering the lost land of ghosts or sweating and struggling in the trails in the City of Dawn. You know, I still have to make money for the next item in the pipeline. 

As always this adventure to began with an idea of doing something that the mediocre men find absurd, a true athlete finds trivial while myself feels fun. Auroville at Pondicherry hosts an annual marathon with the one twist - There are no roads, you run through unpaved tracks, trails under the foliage, avoiding rocks and get roasted under the unforgiving Tamilian sun if you don't twist your ankle in between. Fun right? One downside of this event is that they do not give you a medal and being a trophy hunter, that put me off initially. Out of the blue Simham, came up with this brilliant idea, 'Why don't we drive to Pondi, via Dhanushkodi?' 

The Pamban Bridge

As expected there were no counter questions or discussions and we ('Poland' Praveen, 'Simham' Vijayaraj, Sujit 'The Kid' and myself) pulled into the check post in Poland's Safari (Cliche-led called as the Beast) past Rameshwram by around 3.30PM on 12  Feb. There is a new road constructed from the check post to the Dhanushkodi ruins but as some dumb politrickian had not yet found time to come and inaugurate, the road remains closed to public. The friendly folks around there have made a livelihood by transporting the tourist/pilgrims to the ruins in rusty old vans and jeeps since long. We negotiated with the dude there and he told he would take 15 of us in his van for 150 per head. The HR skills in us rose to the occasion and within minutes we had 15 people lined to board the bus. 

Rusty vans that ply the salt marsh

'I will not go without 18 people.'

'But you told you need 15 only'

'No. 18 people or no go. Else I want 2500RS'.

'How far is this ruins from here?'

'Far, 5 Km up and 5Km down. 10Km total, very far.'

This moron wants to squeeze in 18 people into his rusty 14 people carrier and now he insulted the ego of four would be marathon runners with a 'very far 10Kms'. 

Quickly setting up our Garmins and Strava apps (without which we are incapable of doing anything that involves sweating) we stared off in a chill pace. We will take 45 minutes up, 15 minutes at the ruins and 45 minutes back so by around 6PM we can be at the hotel carbloading for the marathon. So I thought.

Ruins of Dhanushkodu

We hardly broke a sweat reaching the ruins and was wondering why all these people pay so much money to these idiots when they could walk easily till here. This part of the walk is mostly unremarkable though the landscape is a unique one. Sea on both sides, fresh tarmac under the feet, turtle rescue shelters, wild horses (i kid you not) and remains of old buildings dotting the sandy expanse. The town of Dhanushkodi offered no surprises as we were all familiar about the place through blogs, movies and friends who already been there. It was like a paradise of cliche's. Ruined railway station, ruined school, ruined post office, ruined church, ruined land and ruined people throwing their trash all over the place. We clicked a few memoirs and while having a lemon soda, I fought off a hawker trying to rob me with his 'floating stone' from Ramsetu. 

Dhanushkodu cliche !'

Were is the lands end?'

'We are there'

'But there is land on all sides, this is not the end  of land. it must be a bit far.'

I consulted the hawker. ' A little more Saar'

'Okey its pointless(pun intended) not to see the end point of the land. Lets walk till there.'

From here on, it was a hike through sand, more sand and even more sand. And being the arrogant scum we were, we didn't think it will be smart to buy a bottle of drinking water. The landscape changed into a thin strip of sand boarded by the calm waters of Bay of Bengal and the screaming sea of Indian ocean. We found turtle tracks from the sea where the mummy comes to lay her eggs, we found trash thrown back by the sea which we threw into it, we found thousands of shells, conch, seaweeds, a lone communication tower, we even found a broken idol of some long lost deity by the beach. 

Sujit trying to find signs of civilization

Among all  one thing was the most pleasurable and most scary. We didn't encounter another living soul since we left the ruins. The thin strip of land got thinner by minutes but so did the sun starting to sink in the vast ocean to our right.

         

           'There. I see it. The end of land'

Now we began a race against the darkness that creeps in to reach the Lands end. We clicked a few pics and pissed while Simham got a 'Welcome to SriLanka' message in this mobile service provider. The first time anyone is getting a mobile signal since starting from the check point. By now the sun was gone and the illumination was provided by a million stars banded together in the heaven in form of the Milky-way and a small slice of Moon. It would have been an idea romantic walk - By the beach with your sweetheart in the moon light next to your honeymoon cottage. But no; here my company was three sweaty guys far from the nearest habitation in a ribbon of land that could easily be swallowed by a good wave. The return hike was a quick one, no pauses, no breathers and no photographs. Even in that hectic stride, I could not but look around in awe at the rugged but breathtakingly serine beauty of this lost beach. 

By 8.30PM, we sagged back to Poland's Safari and drove off to find the nearest watering hole. A quick dinner, a swish of beer and a soft bed curtained the day.

The second day of the trip was unremarkable except for the lesson that I learned not to jump into a canal bed however dry it may look. We saw salt fields on both sides of the road and was intrigued to have a closer look and when we stopped for a break, I ran off to find one. The choice was either to walk around to get closer or simply cross the parched dry canal and I jumped into the latter. 'Thugggsss..." I was knee deep into black mud that clinked to my feet like tar and I could not pull myself free due to the suction it caused. I was literately planted on that canal. It took me a few minutes to pull myself out of that mess and even more time washing off the black slush in one of the flooded salt field. Great experience, but one is enough for a lifetime.

We reached Pondi by dusk, met the rest of the TRAc's, fooled around in the pool, had beer, ate food, had more beer and ate even more food and slept. The next day we went to Auroville and ran the damn half marathon. That makes it two half marathons in two days and still all of us managed to improve our timings with myself finishing in 2.35 from the 2.50 last time. Simham as usual was the best clocking a sub-2 at 1.50 and soon had to suffer the consequence of treating us at a CCD. 




We returned to the pool, checked out of the hotel (Ananda Inn, awesome place) and bid farewell to our running buddies and began the long drive home by 1PM. 

Biriyani, chicken65, omelettes, junk food, CCD  in between chatting about everything from gravitational waves to exotic places to books to politics to eye candies to meaning of life to TRAc's to TBC, we reached Trivandrum by 11.30PM to conclude what was one of the most intense, insane adventure so far. As I got down from the car, the same question that was in my mind was shouted at me from the car.

'What's Next?'

Pro-Tip - Want to go for an epic road trip? Install Splitwise app (Thanks Poland); its super awesome and helps you splits the bills you pay equally or otherwise. And do have a Android for the purpose, Windows phone sucks (Ask the Kid). 

Pro-Tip2 - Always drive in a Safari, its super awesome in comfort and in scaring the oncoming traffic. Plus always let the driving crazy guys do the driving so that you can chill out in the back.

Pro-Tip3 - You need more than an evening to see Pondi, my only regret is that we couldn't spare a day more to enjoy this incredible town and the spirits it offer.

Pssss.... All the images in the blog are either mine or shamelessly stolen by me from my co-travelers.

The TRAc's clan at Auroville

The Hike

What the road-trip offers