The Perks of Being a Teacher & a Trekker.

Travel has always been a passion for me and like many other passions, it had been on the backburner due to other commitments like work and time constrains. But when a bunch of students approached me to join them for their study trip, I just couldn’t refuse them due to these reasons.

 1)  http://acynictalks.blogspot.com/2016/10/a-throwback-to-college-days.html

2)    http://acynictalks.blogspot.com/2016/10/taming-mustached-leopard-hill.html

The main difference from the previous adventure was that this time I was joined by my colleague Mathew Sir, my wife Mintu ma’am & Sid the kid.

We kicked off on a beautiful evening with 49 screaming students from the college towards our first destination of Chikmagalur in Karnataka. I have heard that the place is a heaven for hikers and looked forward to experience it. The Kerala – Karnataka roads were severely damaged and it took us forever to reach the place. Finally after a quick brunch, we set off to our first destination, a shooting point. Most of the route was covered in jeeps, so we could make time for some other spots also. The place had some spectacular views when we went up the nearest summit. Mintu & Sid stayed at the base and they didn’t want to climb the steep region. 

In my mind I was wondering if they would miss all the places due, but they had different plans! Next we stopped at Honnamma falls, a small cascade upstream to the famed Jhari falls. It was a disappointment at least for me as I subconsciously compare every falls to our beloved Athriapally and Miss Honnamma just didn’t make it. The students enjoyed the place and so did Mintu & Sid. By this time, Sid has started to shed his shyness towards the students and started interacting with them. He found Anitta, a student much to his liking and named her Friend Chechi.

We then drove to a place called ‘Z Point’ and I have no idea why it is called so. The place offered beautiful views and everyone went snapping pictures. Mathew sir had taken up the role of Mr Nishchal with his DSLR. There was a bit of walk to the top point and both Mintu & Sid walked up before I reached there ! On the way back to our jeeps, the driver told us about a sub-terrain cave mosque/temple complex in the area and before I could say anything, half the guys were off to the place. And it would have been a great loss if we missed it. Beautiful relics of the past complete with dripping ceilings and cold floors; with roof so low that I graced my dome a couple times even after bending low. Unfortunately photography was prohibited and I didn’t risk taking any. 

Our final stop was almost an hour’s journey with the last kilometer offering good off-roading. Mullayanagiri, the highest peak in the state welcomed us with a beautiful sunset and there too we had to climb a bit to the summit. On our way back we encountered some cows running up the slope to spend the night on top of the hill where there is a small temple. Not a very pretty experience when you try to go down a slope while cows charge upwards.

The second day was a long bus day. The only thing of note was the food from a Punjabi dhaba. I had a butter roti that actually had butter on it and paneer curry so rich in paneer that there weren’t much curry. We reached the second destination Dandeli, at the northern tip of the state by evening and checked into a jungle resort. I don’t want to waste words on that place as it was so horrible and will not be staying there ever again even if you pay me to do so. Google Dandeli Simba Jungle Resort and check for reviews if you want to know the place.

The third day kicked off by us escaping from that place after a short walk through a plantation and visiting the banks of a river. We then wandered around searching for the Hornbill adventure park where we booked some watersports. The place was on the banks of the mighty, beautiful Kali River and was a well managed place. We did a bit of kayaking (me after a lot of encouragement from the students to conquer my aquaphobia), river rafting and natural Jacuzzi bath. The last thing is just lying on the rocks while white water gushes past you. Wonderful stuff. Mintu & Sid could not join for the rafting as the guides took safety pretty seriously but they were kind enough to arrange a separate free boating for us. The goons at the jungle resort could learn a thing or two from these fellows about hospitality.

In our original plan, we were to proceed to Malpe for a trip to St Mary’s island in the Arabian Sea but we got word that the sea is pretty rough and the boat services are suspended. After a bit of brainstorming, we picked up Kodachadri (Kudajadri), a mountain peak with dense forests in the Western Ghats in Shivamogga Dist. I was a bit worried as the trekking path up the summit is a bit steep and when I visited the place ten years ago as an obese drunk, I couldn’t walk up the entire path. Well here is my shot at redemption.

After a quick morning visit to the famed Mookambika temple with the faithful, we went out for our second jeep ride of the tour. This off-roading is said to be the most thrilling one available in south India and I must say, that statement don’t do justice to the place. As Ashiq put it, travelling in the 4x4 jeeps, it was like being in a grinder on the gravel roads and in a washing machine on the off-roads. Sid was the one who enjoyed the ride most while some of the students threw up and the others teased them for throwing up. Me on the other had was wondering what to do with Mintu and Sid when we start the hike.

We started the hike and Sid simply walked up the peak with his mummy and friend chechis like it was a walk in the park. The place was ethereal with a lovely mist, rolling meowed hills and deep gorges. The cave Ganesh temple and the Sarvajna Peeth, a small temple like structure near the peak where Adi Shankara meditated gave the place a spiritual vibe. The entire route was peppered with wild flowers of all colors and the entire atmosphere was akin to a fairy land. All the students easily climbed up and down the hill with ease and the leeches along the way had their full. Mathew sir had a ball of time clicking all those beautiful views and leading the trek up the hill while I stayed behind to leave none stranded. On the way down we were surprised by the temple people who offered us a stupendous vegetarian meal complete with a delicious paysam.

 The return trip was enjoyed with some raving DJish music & dance, couple movies in the bus and a visit to a mall at Manglore. I must confess that this is the best college tour I have ever gone as a student or as a staff and the memories will stay on for a long time.

PS: I thank all the students for inviting us, taking care of Sid, for the well organized trip and for not making a mess !

PSS: The images are from the collection of students, Mathew sir and mine. Haven’t got the DSLR pictures at the time of writing this blog.

PSSS: Without the wonderfully coordinated trip, the experience would not have been so great. I salute the efforts by Anwar, the tour package man, Ajith & Eldho our drivers and the student organizers Shambu, Ashiq, Umesh, Amal, Gokul, Anandhu.…….. and co; and Manu for dropping us back home.

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A few snaps from the trip, will update when I get more pictures.

The great train robbery.

Every Monday morning I take the 7.15AM Sabari express to Kayamkulam for work. Even with the harthal the train was crowded today with many familiar faces. Smartly dressed men and women who commutes to Kollam or Kayamkulam for work. Government servants who could not pull enough strings to get the transfer to hometown but only to a commutable distance. I always watch them talk about everything under the sun from the soap last night on the television to the fascist in Delhi. From adar premam to Antartican ice shelves and about the correct way of conducting a harthal. I like these men and women sharply dressed and ready to serve the public even on this public nuisance holiday.

As the train raced past the long lakes at Kappil I was distracted from my book by a sudden collective movement of bodies in the corridor. An exodus of my friends was happening towards the next compartment. The ones walking past me smiled a smile that my kid does after going potty in his knickers and winking at their colleagues and acquaintances. In reaction the ones sitting stood up and joined the beeline. I was bit hurt that no one winked at me or tried to explain what prompted this movement even when I craned my neck to see what was behind them. A predator is unlikely and snakes on a train will surely involve Samuel Jackson and or Vava Suresh. The trains next stop is at Kollam and it’s still more than thirty minutes away so what caused this march of PSC appointees?

A man in Black coat with an ugly scowl and a cop in tow appeared on the far end of the compartment. He carried his weapon clipped in a plastic folder. A railway ticket checker. The monstrosity that frequents the AC compartment have entered the sleeper coaches to hunt. My good law abiding friends did not want to be caught not abiding the law and decided to bolt. Manu Joseph, myself and the Tamil beggar boy who was shooed off by one the babu with the advice to get some work instead of begging looked open mouthed when last of the robbers walked out of our compartment with a mutter

“ Harthalinu evenokke veetil irinnude?”

A Conversation with the Clerk of Death

Chitraguptan was furious and it was uncharacteristic of him to be so. He felt his rage directed at his lord Yamaraj who he perfectly knew could read his mind. Yamaraj is not a person to be trifled with for he decides who lives on and who ceases to breath. Yet when Chitraguptan looked at his lord, Yamaraj looked away to avoid his gaze.

“My Lord, it is not proper for me, a lowly clerk to visit and collect the departed, I merely keep the numbers. You alone have the authority to release the souls from the prison of human flesh”

“Enough with the arguments Chitragupta, You shall do as I command. You will travel to the land of mortals and visit the Teacher in my place. You will release her from her mortal flesh and accompany her to my palace.” Yamaraj thundered at Chitraguptan keeping his eyes at some distant unseen event.

“Pardon me lord, I have served you from the beginning of time and never have you ordered me or anyone else in this task. It is your face every being that enters the afterlife sees first, it is by your judgment their life is valued. I an ill equipped for this purpose and I fear that I may fail her” Chitaguptan fiddled with his tomes nervously.

“We have all failed her in life, and I cannot fail her in death now. I fear I am inadequate in judging this soul. I fear her gaze may burn me and the weight of her sorrows is a burden that I am unable to vanquish. I ask you Chitragupta, not as your Lord and the God of Death but as friend, do me this favor and please visit the Lady” This time Yamaraj looked blankly at Chitraguptan.

“At once my Lord” Chitarguptan stood up, bowed low and walked towards the door. He held the handle, took a deep breath and opened it to enter into the room of the small nursing center where the Teacher waited for him.

A frail woman lay on a green cot covered by a green bed sheet. The bed itself made of equal parts iron and rust was a wonder by itself by not collapsing. Maybe the woman is so light that the bed did not realize that someone was lying on it. She had a wrinkled face deep with furrows of sorrow than of age, her grey and white hair tangled and spread on the pillow. She wore a pale blue hospital gown that settled on her body showing the bones that poke through her skin. A pungent odor of disinfectant, a sweet sickly smell of putrefaction and faint whiff of urine hung in the air. The single window on the wall was shut and spiders have made a permanent residence on the bars. A rusty fan did its best to complete every rotation while the new tube light illuminated every corner of the room. An old yellow ceramic flower vase held three plastic flowers coated with a layer of dust and specked with fat mosquitoes resting after draining what little blood the woman had. A half empty plastic bottle was on the small table next to the vase on which a glass was kept. The whole room looked like a cell of despair where people decide to move on to better things than life.

Chitraguptan looked around unsure of what he must do. He suppressed his urge to smack the mosquito that landed on the woman’s leathery hand and prepared to have its fill. It is not in his place to disturb the natural order of things, Chitraguptan remembered his Lords voice. He was startled when the woman lifted her other hand to shoo off the mosquito. Her eyes were still closed but he could see her lips mumble inaudibly.

‘….hmmm Teacher!’ Unsure of how to address his ward, Chitraguptan used the title his Lord mentioned.

The woman opened her milky hollow eyes and searched for the source of the voice. Chitraguptan did not have his Lords ability to read the mind of humans or to form a manifestation that would make them understand and follow him. He do not even have a prior experience in guiding a soul in afterlife, he is just a clerk to the God of Death.

  

‘Who is there? Is that you Kanna? Have you come to see me?’

The mere mention of the name sent Chitraguptan the keeper of records of everyone dead or alive in the planet searching for the person. Even though Chitraguptan is seen behind huge tomes of records, anyone who is close to the clerk knew that all the records are kept in his mind and the books are only a backup in case the keeper of the dead dies someday.

A sharp piercing pain was felt in his heart when he found the person of interest in the lands of the dead. It was a small boy sitting on the floor next to a bottomless bucket. His clothes were drenched and his hair pasted to his head likes a wet rag. Chitraguptan saw a younger version of the woman offering puja to some unseen idols with her back turned to the child. He was waving his hands frantically attempting to attract her attention and tried to call out. As he opened his mouth, water flowed out like an upturned tumbler. The image faded before his eyes and as the dripping child vanished, Chitraguptan saw that the woman’s eyes were fixed on him.

“You are not the one who I expected to see today. Where is he? Lord Dharmaraja, the dispenser of justice?’

“He will not come. I am Chitragupta, his voice and the keeper of records. I have come in his place to guide you in afterlife.’

“Even in death the Gods forsake me” Sadness crept in her voice, the milky eyes glistened with tears and her lips trembled. “Tell me O clerk, the keeper of all records, the one who sees all, am I so much of a cursed soul that even death himself have forsaken me? I had wished for his visit many times in this wretched life but he ignored me. Now this body fails me and rots within and I know that my time has come, yet here I am discarded by the living and the dead”

“It is not in my place to judge you ….Devi. I merely keep the records and my Lord himself will see you when we reach his abode” Chitraguptan did not want to enter into a conversation with the woman. His analytical mind must not show emotions of any kind, for him every action, a sin or otherwise is just a number on a balance sheet. He does not dwell or do well on unaccountable debates of any nature.

“Yes it is not in your place to judge me. Neither you, nor all your Lords shall be. I have lived a virtuous life, I am devoted to the Gods, prayed to them all my life and my rewards are a dead husband, a dead son, and a family that shunned me like a leper.” The sadness in the voice dispensed and her voice steeled. “I prayed not for wealth, not for health or comfort, I prayed for peace and the joy of motherhood, and what have you given me oh Lords?’

A middle aged man dressed in a white dhoti and shirt lay on a bed not much different than this one appeared before Chitraguptan. His frame was frail with yellow pasty skin and the hairless scalp and face glistened with beads of sweat. Each breath was a torture to him and his eyes pleaded for it to stop. A young woman sat by his bed holding his thin arm. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and the unkempt hair flew in the fans murderous pace. Her lips kept repeating the words ‘please’ again and again. She looked at the man’s face and the straight line displayed in the machines connected to him and finally at Chitraguptan. Her skin wrinkled, hair grayed and the rheumy eyes obscured by cataract. She lay in the green cot staring at him and a very humanly chill passed down the spine of the clerk to the God of death as he could still hear the distant screams of the man in mortal peril

“Teacher, I am not a God and I cannot speak for them. Everything in the universe happens for a reason and sometimes it takes time for mortals to understand the great picture” resorting to the most plain answer avoiding her eyes Chitraguptan dragged the plastic chair from the corner and sat down near the bed.

“What part of the greater picture had to take away my husband after our joyful yet lonely life of two decades? He unlike many never smoked, drank or had any vice yet he suffered horribly with the pain of cancer until your Lords mercy took him away from me”

“I am so sorry that your husband passed away in such a manner but the Lords design is never at fault. Your husband’s time in this world was over and he was needed elsewhere”

“But he need not had to suffer all that pain. There are millions of people who immerse themselves in all the vices this world can offer and they live and die in peace while he died a slow painful death an organ at a time. In the end I secretly wished that he would pass away at the night so that his screams will stop.” Chitraguptan noticed a thin line of blood slowly flow down her nostril and leave a red smear on her cheek when she wiped her eyes with her wrist.

“My torture did not end there. You sent another one to my life with false promise of joy and companionship and yet again failed to answer my prayers. My womb remained barren and all my wish of a baby unfulfilled. In my desperation I even allowed …..’Oh Rama….”

Chitraguptan saw a middle aged man tie the thali to a young woman while the lady who now sported the first lines of grey in her head watched from afar. Her face was gaunt, lips pressed together and eyes severe. The event manager came to her with a bill and she held out a bundle of notes. The new couple walked out of the register office into a car and once inside it, the man rolled down the tinted windows. A little child who had an uncanny resemblance to the lady looked out of it and at her. The car started and went down the lane raising dust and scattering a murder of crows. The lady screamed hysterically with her arms raised above her head and ran behind the car. After a few steps she tripped and fell face first into the road. A cool breeze began to blow and the first drops of the rain hit the parched earth. The lady lay where she fell and sobbed loudly for some time and then she pushed herself up from the ground gazing at the car which was by then a speck in the horizon.

The rain began in earnest and the wind howled its protest against the cruel world. A discarded newspaper fluttered in the wind and got tangled in the folds of her sari. She picked the paper up and looked into it. A smile of gratitude spread on her cracked lips and she looked heavenwards thanking the Gods in the top of her voice and walked away. Chiraguptan noticed the trail of blood she left behind as she walked. The blood droplets hissed as they struck the ground and vaporized into a red mist. He bowed and took the crumbled piece of newspaper that fell from the cold dead hands of the woman in the hospital gown. It was an advertisement of an in vitro fertilization and birth care center, a place where little men play God.

“It is time clerk, let us go meet your Lord” Chitraguptan stared at the vibrant lady who stood beside him. Her face was radiant yet pleasant as the infant sun of the new dawn. She was clad in an ethereal white sari that defined pureness and her feet were hidden among its folds. She glided out of the room with dignity and strength that would shame the Gods. She moved as a maid of purpose and at that moment, Chitraguptan knew why Yamaraj wanted him to be here at this moment. This was the day the Gods lost their last devotee on the mortal world.

Dedicated to the memory of Mrs Bhavani Amma (1941-2017)

Lady, Wife, Mother Extraordinaire.

1) https://www.thequint.com/news/india/bhavani-amma-kerelas-oldest-mom-passes-away-13-years-after-she-gave-birth

2)http://www.sify.com/news/at-66-her-quest-for-motherhood-is-still-on-news-national-jegqBAieefgsi.html

3)http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-kerala/baby-born-through-ivf-drowned/article3177323.ece

4) http://www.thehindu.com/2004/05/05/stories/2004050508360400.htm