From: NAMBIAR_DHANA@tandem.com
Newsgroups: alt.culture.kerala
Subject: Ack: Why I love kerala.....
Date: 25 Jan 1993 19:49:25 -0600
Organization: UTexas Mail-to-News Gateway
NNTP-Posting-Host: cs.utexas.edu

Hi,
  I would like to share my love and sentiments about Kerala with all of you.
  Some of you out there may be able to relate to this literature. I am
  breaking my experiences into parts. I would like to apologize if any
  remark/view in my article is offensive to any of my readers.

                                                            Dhana

                            PART I

------------   REPLY ATTACHMENT   --------
SENT 01-25-93 FROM NAMBIAR_DHANA

Kerala is one of the most beautiful places I have seen. Its lush green
fields, swaying coconut trees, the small houses hidden inside these
vegetation. Houses so typical, yet so different. Kerala brings back
nostalgic memories to me.

I am part of a family that has been for two generations settled away
from Kerala. Our only interaction with the state were the school
vacations.  When all our friends would be planning about the fun they
would have at Simla/Darjeeling..., we would default to Kerala. My
grand parents and tons of aunts/uncles stay in Kerala. Although we
would go once a year the excitement of the visit would build up from
the time the train tickets were booked. Then the day of travel would
be a count down for us, before which mundane things like EXAMS, new
uniforms to be tailored ... will have to be done.

The train journey in itself was an interesting experience. Getting up
at unearthly hours like 3 in the morning and having milk/biscuits at
the station, being banned from acting like a trapeze artist, swinging
between the top berths (jee I remember the terms!!). Ofcourse as we
grew older other incidents amused us more.

The way most of the folks as they approached the NATIVE PLACE would
start lining for the bathroom. This would start from 3 - 4 in the
morning. The folks would line up to take a bath!! In that 2ft/2ft
bathroom they would freshen into ironed shirts/sarees, oiled hair
combed, Cuticura Talcum Powder fragrance (or odour) hanging like a
huge clowd, mixed with the cigarette/bidi smoke and ofcourse the smell
of the uncleaned bathroom.

As the stations approached their would be shouts of glee from
relatives running along with the train as it slows down, along with
shouts of recognition of the folks within. In whiff of
chetaan/ethan/mole....  one gang of tin boxes/jute bags/dubai returned
tag bags will leave the compartment. The compartment will feel a
little less stuffy now. Then there will be anxious look on fathers
face, the same look seen on the folks that just alighted. My mother
would ask us to at least wash our face, so that we could be
distinguished from the urchins come to clean the train. Our
explanation for not washing would be that our skirts/pants were more
colourful than the urchins, so she would have no problem finding us.
All the card playing uncles would tug at our cheek or smile to wish us
a pleasant vacation. The aunts would talk of meeting again, when we
get back.

As the station approachs my father/mother would herd us along with the
bags to the door. There would be some bachelors also waiting to
alight.  They would politely move their bags behind to let the family
get down first.  At the station we would see familiar faces at which
their would be shouts from us and relieved smiles on our parents face.

After all the bags and we were counted, we would wave at the brethren
in the train that we met.  Train would then chug slowly away, when my
mother would remember that she left the thermoflask on the wash basin,
or we left the bath towel on the hook near the seat. My father would
make the familiar crumpled forehead/nod from side to side. My uncle
will console my mom, or save us from some scolding. We would now move
towards the taxi stand. The smile fixed on our faces, never to leave,
till the day of comming to this station again, after our vacation..

After we are stuffed into the cars, we would gear ourselves for a
bumpy drive along the NH (National Highway, the only roads in the
Malabar area of kerala I suppose!!) and the panchayat roads. After
some breath taking speed and turns we screech to a stop at my mothers
house and dash into our grandmothers arms.Now the vacation starts ...
Newsgroups: alt.culture.kerala