Reflecting in Kerala
Are we moving too fast? or fast enough? I had this brainworm sneak into my head on my recent trip to Kerala.
Kerala — God’s own country. It’s sheer injustice to not follow the name by those three words. Serene lands, glistening waters, skies that are either a charming blue or seized greedily by the bright and bold sun. The farmers, the fishermen, the tourists — it’s like nature has spread her arms around this land and cocooned it protectively.
My trip last December took me to four different places in Kerala. Munnar was my first stop and it definitely had as many honeymooning couples as the number of tea estates. I think its the climate that suits them both!
Then there was Thekkady, where this brainworm had its origin.
We attended a Kathakali routine. There are one of those few times when you feel truly proud of your rich heritage irrespective of whats flashing on your news channels. To hell with all that. This is India too. There was a man playing a woman’s role so beautifully,with such elegance, no man or woman in the room could help but be captivated.
The next routine has left me awed beyond words. Kalaripayattu — dance and martial arts infused into one enchanting art form. I was shocked in the most pleasant way. There were men jumping through fire, sword fighting and combating with long sticks and knives. The music, the arena, the fire, the determination in their eyes, the swift and synchronized movements — I can play it all over again in my head. Its like they had conquered fear and were now just being condescending. As we drove back to our hotel, I was completely silent. Partially because the act had hypnotized me and mostly because I felt stupid to have not known of this art form before. Was I ignorant or was it not getting the publicity it deserved? Apparently there are few people now who can perform Kalari.
I still pondered upon the thought of why it did not have many practitioners. One being ofcourse, it’s tough. Needs one to conquer his mind, body and soul and then tastefully play with them all together. It takes one years to even get close to performing it. Two, interest. It’s lessened over time. Will my future generations ever get to watch this? It freaked me out to think what if they don’t. What if all this just becomes a part of a museum someday. Are we moving too fast? or fast enough?
In spite of all the vivacity Kerala has, it has one thing in common as a state — stillness. As I look out from my boat house in Allepey, I see people going about their daily routines, rowing boats, setting out baits for the naive fishes, a group happily swimming together in the lake. The lakes here aren’t the cleanest and yet you somehow find yourself ignoring that flaw. As I walk around the streets of Kerala I see groups of people smoking beedis, sharing banana fries and speaking their mellow language.They don’t look like they want anything to change.They seem so content. What needs to go and what needs to stay on? Who decides? Too many unanswered questions and my brainworm has happily nested in, considering its not going anywhere for a while
Are we moving too fast? or fast enough? The answer I think lies between those lines…
Originally published at http://icenspice.wordpress.com on January 19, 2017.
