Bonding over Smirnoff and tales from the woods

 Every journey, apparently, begins with a phone call.

The original plan was a trek to any forest where there is no 'mobile range.' It was initially Santosh (hereafter referred to as Puni) and yours truly, planning out our annual 'green pilgrimage' that we have been meticulously upkeeping for the past seven odd years.

 In the past, we have trekked down Silent Valley; gaped at Malliswaran Mudi which inspired Malayatoor Ramakrishnan; traced back on river Periyar; explored the heart of the Chalakudy River; braved a really angry elephant on course to Valparai (where Upman, Bobby and Sanjai gave us the warmest of welcomes); did the Chembra in Wayanad; and had many a philosophical discourse over stale rum at a Pattambi bar, and then, en route to the daily grind, watched the hill where Naranath Bhranthan taught us the futility of it all.

For us, every journey was a discovery; part-self, part the rhythm of nature. I believe that we have learnt a lot  more than we ordinarily would have, simply because the silence of the forests took us in wholly and unconditionally.

I remember the absolute stillness of the Pookode Lake, and the sheer steep of the Chembra Peak, which Puni skipped halfway through due to personal reasons.

There were these moments when it was just you, the blue or overcast sky  -as the day turns out to be - and the always untarnished, unblemished greenery.

I also learnt while scaling up Chembra that no matter where you go, if your heart is not at peace, if you harbour even the slightest of resentment against anyone, anything - any paradise can be hellish.

Any journey, truly, is a journey into your self; it digs up dirt that you perhaps never realised existed in you, and perhaps cleanses you – a little by little.      
                               
This year, the call of the wild, once again, was the starting point. The surprise factor came from Sunil and Sudeep (both doing some amazing trapeze acts involving family and work to join us).

There was a point when we all back-pedalled - except Puni. Even before we started, the chicken for our dinner was being arranged to be transported to where we were to stay - right in the middle of nowhere. Moral of the story: When you plan a trip with Puni, consider it done.

We drove from Alwaye, where Sudeep had come; picked up Puni from Angamaly and drove to Nedumbassery where Sunil joined us, and off we headed. A veg breakfast of steaming hot idli from Annapoorna Perumbavoor, and straight to Adimali, where it was whiskey time. The little store that sold us glasses had dates from Saudi Arabia - the woman's husband apparently works in Jeddah.

Munnar is an over-written travel destination. Of course, nature here stuns you with its splendour. But I have always felt that Munnar is a town on libido - the mist that envelopes it, hides the passion brewing beneath the bedsheets inside its slope-roofed hotels.

All hill stations, I believe, have a common identity. There is also peculiar air of brisk business-like arrogance for every town that is the last stop before you embark on the hillstation climb. Take Mettupalayam. Or Adivaram. Or Adimali. Or Agali.

Then the hill stations almost always descend on you with rash suddenness - people in their sweaters and shawls; carrots by the roadside; the ironically hectic pace that everyone seems to have to get to their homes before darkness that descends early.

Like in all journeys with Puni, our travels start where the popular tourist destinations end.

Munnar was only the starting point for us; The Eravikulam National Park  and wayside waterfalls- other tourist attractions - again just necessary distractions.

This detour from the beaten path takes us to unexpected sights and experiences. That is how we ended up meeting 'Padayappa' - the lonely elephant, who doesn't have a history of violence, but comes down to human settlements, does some mandatory grazing and pushes off with unchallenged majesty. His trademark - a gracefully long tusk.

We drove through it all to our nest - a small hut, built in 1941, set around the hills and tea plantations. Here, over coffee flavoured Smirnoff, freshly made scrambled eggs, chicken curry and cigars, we laughed through the night.

Some journeys must be made to re-discover the magic of friendship.


ENDS