Small Talk

Adoring the wind, fighting the mosquitoes and typing this post, here I am on the Kochi port watching ships race past each other. I should admit, the plan for the day wasn't an article on the blog, but an in-depth photography session. I guess sooner than later , even my camera will shy away from photographing things that I actually consider worth capturing. Can't help it. The breeze is perfect for nothing but thinking. I believe, had I been brought up somewhere near the coastline, I'd have been much better at intellectualism.

I don't have a topic for the day but I still plan to murmur. The things that I really want to talk about, aren't fit for an audience, and the things I'd rather say, are irrelevant . So, if at all you're reading this, you know what you're exposing yourself to ; irrelevance. Life is always such an irony. There's always something to think about, rack your brain for. Things can never be perfect, can they? But come to think of it, what fun would it be if at all it was perfect ? I think , I'd come to pity such an individual, an individual whose life is " just perfect " , I meant.

If there was one thing that I could take back from people in Kerala, it's got to be their simplicity. Kerala; a land where the richest of blokes, prefer to wear a dhoti on marine drive. The most fashionable couples, celebrate romance, over a cup of coffee and rice plate. There is an essence in their broken english. It's such a mystery too. What would have taken a 17 word sentence, they're able to both convey and get, in six entirely unrelated words. Autos; As compared to their counterparts in Delhi, they're bliss.

I don't want to be rude, but I can't help generalizing women in Kerala to be fat. That said, they're much soft spoken. Not a trait I admire or abhor, but again there's an invisible piousness surrounding them. They head out from their homes, anointed beautifully and variedly on the forehead, to their respective places of work. Call it personal opinion, but the sight is just feel-good. It's like a caricature of India's progress , minus the frill. The more youthful women though , are dressed as normally as women in Delhi, minus, again, the frill. A simple kurta, a jeans to compliment it, neat hair, a fragrance which is anything but artificial, and you'll come to draw a mental portrait of the architypical Keralite woman . 


Kerala, God's own country as they call it.