To Munnar (BH:D65)

October 7, 2011

I am seated in the balcony of our room, number 806, at the Ayur County resort in Munnar. Actually, 20 km away from Munnar town. It is 7pm. A misty cloud has engulfed the area. I can hear voices coming from the other balconies. In the private road below, between the resort's buildings, some Tamilians are discussing when to go for dinner. Some Kannadigas are trying to back their car into a better spot. Ghostly figures gesticulate in the headlights of the car. In this mist, only voices prevail. Sounds survive. And touch too. A world blinded by the invisible mist, intangible like love. May be this is why hill stations are great for honeymoons.

Our day started very early. Quick rickshaw ride to the railway station. A copy of the Hindu and Malayala Manorama, a bottle of water and onto the Jan Shatabdi express. The Shatabdi trains started in 1988 to mark the birth cetenary of Nehru. The "Jan" version is people's version that has both AC and non-AC compartments. The one we took goes to Kozhikode via Alapuzha and Kochi and return the same day to Thiruvananthapuram as Shatabdis are meant to do.

The journey to Kochi via Alapuzha takes 3.5 hours which is much shorter than the route via Kottayam that takes longer and halts more. That longer journey of 5 hours manages to get the distinct metallic train smell onto the body. Like an eminently forgettable one night stand, this odor takes a couple of showers with scrubbing to get rid of. The shorter trip does not leave its scent.

Our seats were in the very first bogie. Ringside seating for the engine drivers musical inclinations. I had wrongly assumed that train drivers are free from the great Indian habit of perpetual honking. The entire journey had the train horn jazz background score which somehow fit the landscape in the morning.

Minutes away from Thiruvananthapuram central, the train roars through the Kochu Veli station. I don't know why the 'kochu' (small, little, baby etc) has been added to the station near Veli (marriage) lake. Kochu Veli can be directly translated as Child Marriage, I guess.

The route remains just as scenic as it was in the 90s. Greenery. A thousand little ponds, scores of lakes and a handful of lagoons in which lie fragments of the fallen blue sky. In these reflections, Kerala indeed becomes god's own country. Slices of heaven captured in the watery mirrors. 

Passing through Kazhakoottam at 6:15 am: an old woman squatting on the cement floor encircling her home's well, brushing her teeth with her right hand fingers and the Umikarri (charcoal from paddy husk) in her left palm. In Kalayamkulam at 7:45 am, a man watches the passing train with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth. We're still in the same time zone. 

Smell of dried fish as we near Alapuzha station. Tethered goats scared by the train running in circles. Unimpressed buffaloes barely move. Ducks form their own aquatic quacking train.

At Alapuzha station, a brown bitch sleeping in the shade is woken up by the train. She performs yoga as soon as she wakes up. Thus inadvertently impressing a gentleman dog who was passing by. He proposes. This Malayalam month of Kanni is known for dog mating season. Malayalees prefer to get married in the previous month of Chingam.

A bunch of school kids practice march past, complete with salute, on an abandoned railway track in the station. The boy with the whistle is very particular about the posture of others. May be he will grow a Hitler mustache in ten years.

Time for bread omlette from the railway pantry. "Saya venno Seta?" (Want tea, brother), asks the Tamilian tea boy. 

I was sitting between my parents. No botox, no anti-ageing routine, no wrinkle removing cream can come even remotely close to the psychological rejuvenation of sitting between your parents. I felt decades younger.

As the train slows down to enter the new bridge across Vembanad lake, the new skyline of Kochi emerges in the distant. Abundance of buildings. Short and stocky: a Malayalee skyline. Choice Towers with 38 storeys is currently the tallest building in Kerala. I was told later that a 50 storey is coming up in Kozhikode. 

Seats in the first compartment meant that we alighted at the edge of the platform. Adventurous walking across the tracks. Adventurous for me, routine for the people casually walking beside me talking on their cellphones. During the five minute walk in search for an autorickshaw, the handle belt of one of the bag comes apart. Would any journey be complete without this luggage malfunction ritual?!

Kochi is bigger than Thiruvananthapuram. More buildings, more vehicles, more damaged roads. Morning halt at the Reserve Bank of India quarters in Kochi. Introductions to Amma's coworkers. 

Post lunch, onward to Munnar. Murugan, born and brought up in Munnar, as our guide and driver of his spotlessly clean Ford Ikon. St. Peters model basilica under construction at Edapalli. India's fourth largest mall nearing completion near by. Convenient location of gods and goods. 

Murugan was pleasantly talkative. It is pretty good when you have a driver who has read parts of the Talmud. "Njan kurachokke athu vayichittund, " (I have read parts of it) he clarified just in case we thought he had picked up the info from the numerous Israeli tourists he takes to Munnar. 

A little into the journey, I am greeted with two great sights like the Buddha's three. On the highway, a privately run public bus comes opposite to us. As we near it, out comes a head from its last window with the neck and part of the shoulders of its owner.And out from that head comes a shower of yellow vomit. Murugan swerves to avoid the half digested blessing. Few meters down the road, we see earlier editions of the emissions, already beginning to dry in the afternoon sun. Secondly, a jeep parked by the side of the road. A man in white mundu and shirt, squatting and vomitting. His wife rubs his back. The rest of the family keeping a respectful distance. The message was clear for me. My first trip involving plenty of outside food after returning from the US. Gluttony caution! I stuck to sweet, mountain bananas for the rest of the drive.

After crossing river Periyar at Neriyamangalam, Murugan begins to narrate the history of Munnar. He frequently uses the word 'set-up'. Almost everything is a good 'set up' for him. And his favorite response to any of our comments is "Athanne" (that's it) delivered with the typical Kochi accent. Murugan talked about the 'sayip' (sahib=sir=british colonial master) who came exploring Munnar for plantation possibilities. The local tribe of 'Thevars' helped him and he was assisted by a Malayalee. According to Murugan, this Malayalee was called Kannan and from the combination of Kanan and Thevar, Kannan Thevan plantations were born which later became Kannan Devan. According to online history, the name of the head of the Thevar tribe was Kannan Thevar. Anyways, there are very few boards of "Kannan" Devan anymore. After Tata Tea bought stake in the plantation, Kannan has lost an n to become Kanan, much like Dhanalakshmi bank becoming Dhanlaxmi recently.

The National Highway 49 that climbs to Munnar connects Kochi to Madurai. It is just wide enough for two cars, but every few meters, slightly wider sections are provided to work around bus created gridlock. The van called Force Traveller seems to be the Indian version of RVs. Plenty of them running "tourist packages" through out the route. 

Murugan excitedly points to us the cardamom and cocoa plants on the estates on either side of the road. He becomes talkative about the 'Malaria' tree. "Sayip kondu vannu vachathanu. Ithinte poovu karanam kothuku varilla." (the Britishers planted these tree. Their flowers get rid of mosquitoes) he says. The tree is 'Flame-of-the forest' or 'Tree tulip'. It's bark and leaves have anti-malarial properties. The fully flowered trees made me nostalgic because we used to have one in our school campus. It was fun squirting the clear liquid from its bud at each other especially finicky ones!

We stopped for tea at a shop which had a board announcing its toilet facilities. Absolutely wretched 'set-up' as Murugan would say. No water and clogged drains. We came out just as quickly as we went in. Right across from that shop, another tea stall that specifically announced "clean toilet here". We took the risk. We had to climb down uneven and tall cement steps to get there. But extremely well maintained toilet. The maintanence cost is added as service tax to the tea and bananas. As we got ready to leave, a bus from Andhra with "excursion" school kids halted at the shop. Dozens of kids in different states of wakefulness and bursting bladders filed out. We got lucky with the timing.

Munnar was under the king of Poonjar who is connected to the Travancore royal family. So the road we were on was yet another contribution from Padmanabha Swamy's devotees. Murugan explained that before humans walked and drove on these roads, they were marked out as great routes by elephants. 

A misty cloud was ascending up the valley by 6pm as we neared the resort. My cellphone display said that BSNL tower of Suryanelli was servicing that area. Suryanelli is now infamous for one of the worst underage sex scandals of Kerala. 

Before getting to Chinnacanal which is the official place name of the resort's location, we passed through a small junction. It used to be called Chekuthanmukku (Devil's or Satan's junction). But after a 'Misty Mountain' luxury resort came up there, the owners of the resort couldn't bear the thought of advertising their location as Satan's own junction in God's own country. So they changed the name to HMC junction. 

"Hindu Muslim Christian Junction," Murugan laughed.

He mentally charted a route for our sightseeing tomorrow. The resort offers drivers accommodation in a dorm like 'set-up'. The interior of the room offers ample clues that the owners had ran out of money towards the end of construction. None of the wood is polished. But the rooms are spacious. It could also be from the fear of demolition by the government which has been cracking down on resorts built by encroaching forest lands. 

Of all the places mentioned for prospective visits tomorrow, I am most excited about Muniyara, the pre-historic dolemens near by.