Ode to Kerala

Kerala, God’s own country. That’s what the state billed as its tagline when it launched the Kerala tourism campaign many, many years ago. A better description of oneself I have yet to see.

Come to Kerala, any part of the state, and within minutes, you will sense that this just might be what God had in mind originally.

Everywhere, lush palm trees stand abreast of each other, in full numbers across the landscape. The green fronds carry erect, finely carved blades with assurance. Look up to the neck of any palm tree and you will see 20 or 30 coconuts cradled lovingly. Some are fully developed, about to drop while others are mere buds, tender and raw. Cocooned, they grow unhurriedly.

Or maybe it’s the plump yellow and red bananas, happily nestled with other fat compatriots on a banana stem, waiting patiently to be plucked and savoured for their untainted sweetness.

The clean beaches get kissed softly by playful sea waves, over and over. Birds titter, undrowned by the cacophony of crows. The crows are, in fact, strangely quiet. They feel less stressed, less competitive to the others to stake their place in this wide, generous world.

Everything and everyone has a place under the sun in Kerala. Nothing feels forced. People and Nature flow synchronously, at their own unhurried, assured pace. There is a quiet confidence that there is nowhere else to go, nothing else to be.

I feel myself relax like I haven’t been able to for months. I guess that’s what happens when you visit God’s own country.



About Archana

I'm Indian and Canadian, and many other countries in between. I read comics every morning and believe the world could do with slowing down.
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