Kerala Chronicles - 4

As I write the concluding part of the memoirs of out trip to Kerala, I'll eschew the humourous and at times flippant tone for a while and put down my thoughts and feelings as they were at the conclusion of that trip and as of now, after more than 6 months from the time that we returned. Having stayed in the state for only 7 days, I can't say that I have become a sociological expert about the state, but still I can put down a few thoughts, in the vein of an amateur travelogue writer, about the impressions that the state and its society left on me. For what it's worth, I think I may have a few interesting observations to offer from the perspective of an outsider, a North Indian, a student and whatever other tags of identity I carry with me.
Every few months, some newspaper or the other invariably comes up with a story about a 'happiness index' study conducted by researchers from some obscure university that even more invariably places countries like Bhutan and Surinam on top and places the US at somewhere around 150. I don't know how much credibility should be reposed in such studies but frankly there might be some truth to the conclusion that material progress does not imply a good quality of life or happiness. I surmise that if such a study were to be conducted within India, Kerala would come out on top in terms of gross national happiness. Appearances can be deceptive but I did get a feeling that most Malayalis were pretty content with their lives and content with living quiet, sedate lives in their beautiful state. Of course one might counter by saying that what 'attachment' is one talking of, considering that the state has probably the largest expatriate community of among all Indians, with people leaving Kerala in droves not just for the Gulf but also to other states. And the state that has the one of the highest rates of suicides in the country can hardly be one whose people are content with their lives. The staggeringly impressive social and health indicators are sought to be nullified by the below average performance of the state in economic development. Still, there is a conspicuous absence of feudal conflcits, the bane of societies all across the rest of India. In the cow belt, disputes over land and property masquerade as caste feuds (which foreign correspondents gleefully report as a relgious anomaly of Hinduism, rather than a pure class conflict), in the south too, states like Andhra and Tamil Nadu have seen a number of feudal conflicts between various communities, all of which goes to make India's countryside (where the vast majority of our people live), a perpetually bubbling cauldron of violence. However, such violent community altercations are rare in Kerala and that is something from which the rest of the country can draw a lesson. The education levels are high, however the sad part is that the brightest rarely choose to live in Kerala. In days gone past, they would go to the civil services and be posted outside the state or become engineers, doctors and nurses in the Gulf. Today too, the majority of educated Malayalis would never seriously consider having a career in their home state. There are no thriving industries or IT company hubs (at least not for the moment and it will take some time for Thiruvananthapuram or Cochin to rival Bangalore and Hyderabad as a viable location for the software industry). In short, the state has been surviving through 'pro-bono' measures, much of their income is dependent on sources not at all in their control, whether it is the remittances from the Gulf and other areas or tourism, and hence is always at risk. Kerala is known as God's own country, but God seems to have exhibited a rather dry sense of humour in creating a territroy which is a paradise to live in, but where it is impossible to make a living.
Despite a rather bleak economic past, Kerala seems to have defiantly chosen its own path towards progress, many a time cocking a snook at other states. It reminds one of those movies about two friends or brothers, where one is a hippy and lives hand to mouth and the other is a successful businessman with all the money in the world yet it is the former who is truly happy with his life. Indeed if one were to put Gujarat alongside Kerala for comparison, the analogy might seem to take a life of its own. Gujarat, another state I absolutely love, having spent two phenomenal years there, is India's shining economic success story, with one of the highest per capita incomes of the nation and with corporates and foreigners stumbling over each other to set up industries there. Yet the state has seen a wretched past few years, earthquakes, riots, floods and its almost as if it attracts all the bad luck in the world. I guess if you put all the diamonds polished in Surat together, their value would exceed kerala's GDP, yet still it is Kerala which has been able to give its people a much better quality of life and addressed inequalities in income and prosperity (the cynics would say they have done that by ensuring there is no prosperity anywhere). I am no bleeding heart Luddite but I can't help but admire the way Kerala has avoided the social problems that are attendant with economic development, there is no large scale exploitation of environment, indeed the cities have more vegetation than most of the forests up north, violent crime is low and there are no class exploitations. Today whenever I hear of resource rich states like Jharkhand and Chhatisgarh struggling with problems of Naxalism, income inequalities, destruction of natural habitats and chronic under-development, I wonder if it would make sense for them to follow the Kerala model of rooting out social ills before undertaking development, rather than hoping that trickle-down effects of wealth will reform society. Today Kerala may be a gigantic honeymoon suite/retirement home but it preserves the bonds between the lives of its people and their surroundings much better than many other states manage too. I hope Kerala progresses materially, however I hope it is not at the cost of preserving its natural splendour and the quality and security of life (if not livelihood) that offers its residents.

Day 5
After the revels of the previous night in Kollam, we woke up early the next morning to take the 8 hour backwaters ferry from the city to Alappuzha, in central Kerala. It is said about the Taj that the world comprises two kinds of people (or in Amitabhspeak, "yeh jo wuldd hai na, ismein do kism ke log hain"), those who have seen the Taj and those who are going to see it. Similarly, I can say at the very outset, that every Indian must take a cruise through the backwaters of Kerala at least once in their lifetime. It is a remarkable testimony to how such a vast stretch of unspoilt scenic beauty can exist among human habitation (or is it the other way round?). It makes you want to believe in the existence of a merciful and benevolent God (as opposed to so much else in this accursed world). To this day I do not know of any other place which allows one to truly get away from it all into a different world, a different way of life altogether, not just in the tourist brochure of this much abused marketing slogan, which serves the sole purpose of allowing tour operators to fleece customers. The city of Venice has become a worldwide toursit hotspot because of the intricate system of canals that function as its streets and I see no reason why Kerala's own backwaters cannot compete with them for the attention of tourists.
Well Cita, Pubii and I arrived at the Kollam jetty to pick up our tickets, priced at 300Rs each, the 8 hour package is an absolute bargain. Having secured our passage, we again had some breakfast at a nearby eatery, picked up some provisions at a store which was just opening (and who's proprietor, like so many we had encountered in the state, spoke Hindi) and made our way to the ferry that was supposed to start its journey at 10am. The ferry had two deck, the top one having a number of chairs lined up for tourists to sit on. Taking a look at our co-passengers, we realized that we were a minority in the small area represented by the upper deck. There were Brits, Americans, Chinese and all sorts of assorted nationalities settling in comfortably to take in the sights. I think there was a lone Indian honey-moon couple otherwise the ferry might well have seceded from the Indian republic. Before the journey started we were again accosted by vendors hawking all sorts of motley souveniers. One of them sold greeting cards which consisted of patterns and pictures fashioned out of dried sticks and leaves. Pubii and I found them sufficiently interesting to purchase one each. As the hour approached ,the pwoerful motor started with a couple of mighty sputters and we were on our way. The waters around the town were teeming with activity, minly giant cantilevered fishing nets being lowered and raised. These nets, originally used by the Chinese, emply a very ingenious principle of scooping up a large quantity of fish in a giant net with minimum of human effort invloved. Apart from that there were a number of small fishing boats being propelled by oarsmen and at times there was a mini-traffic jam on the water. Again, wherever we passed, people on the banks or in the small boats always made it a point to wave, smile or wish us a happy journey. Whoever said Indians are inhospitable to outsiders need only take one of these trips and their perceptions will change. As we carried on along our journeys (and what a thrill it is to be in constant motion, no traffic lights or congestion to contend with), we saw how residents of that part of Kerala have adapted to life in proximity to the water. The most fascinating was a school by the banks, imagine how much fun that would be, a far cry from schools in Delhi which mostly open out into a busy road. All through, there were small homes right next to the water and almost picture perfect green surroundings, with giant palm trees lining the waterways, with their fronds right over the water,so it seems like an entrance to a royal durbar. The whole effect is so therapeutic to be almost surreal. However just as I was settling into this mood, I was brought back down to the earth by the sound of some slogan shouting. Looking ahead, we saw some union members raising slogans against the paper-mill located on the other bank. I guess that's part of the complete Kerala package, can't escape from militant unions or the omnipresent coconut trees. Around noon-time we alighted at a waterside restaurant to have some lunch, which was a welcome break from the cold-drinks and chips we had been consuming all through the morning. The food was simple and quite good, which is just as well otherwise we would have felt drowsy and missed the remainder of the trip.
As the ferry motored onwards, it was more of the same for a while, more scenes of palm lined roads on the banks, of groups of ducks and other birds waddling in the waters and scurrying as soon as our mini water juggernaut came hurtling along to disturb the tranquility of the water. Towards the end of the trip, one of the best sights was that of the sun setting in the distant horizon, a sight not blurred by any industrial haze or concrete buildings that are the bane of the degenerate cities we live in. Within a few minutes, we had come to the end of our journey and alighted at Alappuzha jetty, having had a great trip, one that we would remember for the rest of our lives. The next task was to take an inter-city bus to Ernakulam town, where we were to stay with Cita's school friend who was posted in that city. The bus depot was quite nearby and we made our way there and were about to search for a bus that would take us there when we decided to buy a cup of coffee each. As we finished that transaction, we noticed a bus about to leave for our destination and hurriedly made our way there. In the ensuing, melee to get into the bus, my cup fell from my hands and spilled on the shirt of someone standing next to me. He then grabbed my shirt for a while and started angrily remonstrating with me and no amount of apologies on my part seemed to soothe him. He gestured me to come with him and I went, more out of curiosity to see what he could do about what was clearly an accident. He made his way to a room which had a board on top saying "XYZ Workers union". It seemed that I was about to get a first hand view of militant unionism. For all my left-liberal leanings and support to the cause of exploited workers th eworld over against the exploitative forces of capitalism, I felt that a bit of action on the lines of the Haryana police against the Honda workers would be rather welcome. Anyway, just as I was trying to remember some of the techniques of collective bargaining that Prof Varkkey used to discuss in the first term HR, course, the other people in the bus station, like the coffee vendor and passers by asked me what the matter was and on hearing of it told me to just walk away rather than deal with an apoplectic madman. Anyway, I decided the safest course would be to stand next to the police post in the bus station and I did just that. In the meanwhile, my accuser had rounded up a policeman and was bringing him towards me. I can only imagine his other worker comrades told him not to make an ass of himself and refused to come out in droves to surround me, I mean it's one thing to lay down your life protesting oppressive working conditions and quite another to make a fuss over a stained shirt. Anyway, as the policeman came towards me, he had the look on his face of a man exasperated with the madmen he meets on the job. He made one effort to try and initiate proceedings by asking me if I speak Malayalam, in which case he would have probably carried on a conversation. After I responded most earnestly that to my eternal misfortune, I had frittered away my youth with out learning to appreciate the finer points of the language of the south Malabar regions, he pretty much gave up, convinced the effort was not worth it and told me to carry on. Finally cleared of the charges, the three of us made our way to the bus and I sat in the last row trying to make myself unconspicuous. Unfortunately from the window I could see the man I had inadvertently assaulted standing and looking aggrieved at the injustice of it all. I feared he might have some kind of nasty surprise up his sleeve and my mind raced back to newspaper reports over the years of miscreants waylaying buses just outside the city limits and proceeding to burn them, only this time there would be one human casualty inside. Hence, it was a very tense 2 hour ride for me, everytime the bus braked or came to a halt my heart would skip a beat. It was only once we were outside city limits that I felt relaxed. By the time we were at the outskirts of Erankulam city I was pretty well confident of taking on any union acitvists alone with my bare hands.
Ernakulam and Kochi are twin cities, Ernakulam being on the mainland and Kochi on an island just off the coast, linked by a system of bridges. Ernakulam was the first true big city in Kerala we were visting on this trip, Thiruvananthapurma being more of a government enclave. The roads were bright, neon hoardings and big shops lined the streets. If not for the money, in terms of appearances, the city was a lot like Ahmedabad, with a dominant and vibrant commercial district. As we rode through the place, we could not help but feel a bit more at home. Once we had reached the home of Cita's friend, we were glad to have a settled place to stay for the next couple of days and the nomadic life, though fun had started to take its toll on us. We left soon to explore the city and have some dinner and almost unanimously we made our way to a swanky Punjabi restaurant where we ate dal makhani and butter chicken to our heart's content after a week of coconut concoctions (no offense to Kerala cuisine or the mighty coconut, but 5 days had taken their toll).

Days 6 and 7
The last two days passed off at a more relazed pace, primarily because we were not covering distances of 300 km anymore. When we woke upto our first morning in Ernakulam, we decided to make our way to the Jewish settlement and Dutch museum of Kochi. We took an auto and crossed over the bridge that links the two cities and entered the settlement of Kochi. As we alighted from the auto, the driver demanded a fare of Rs 100 for covering 6 kms, saying that it is customary to charge two-way fare between the two cities. Having been sufficiently emboldened by the experiences of confrontation with the working classes, we marched straight off to the nearest police station, refusing to sit in the auto and walking on foot while the embarassed driver followed us. We reached Mattanchery polcie station and narrated our problems to the group of police officers on duty, who had the same exasperated expression on their faces as their comrade in Alappuzha mentioned earlier. Having no idea of how to deal with such a matter, there ensued some hectic discussions between them in Malayalam, of which we caught words like "city limits" and "meter reading". Eventually, they went inside their records room and extricated a xerox copy of some governemnt of Kerala rules which defined the rules of charging fare within the municipal limits of Ernakulam and Kochi. At the end of it all, during which most of the policemen were laughing and were generally amused, the senior police officer asked us to pay Rs 60 for the meter reading of 40. At this, Pubiii added another complication by saying that he suspected the meter was rigged. The top brass had enough at this point and asked us to give any amount that we felt right and go away and not take an auto on the way back. We decided to be generous and gave the driver Rs 50. To be fair to the guy, he took it and went away without saying a harsh word, if something like this had happened in Delhi or UP, we would have been told in no uncertain terms how characterless out mothers and sisters were.
After this dramatic interlude, we went to see the sights of the town. As we made our way to the Jewish synagogue, we passed by a number of Jewish cemeteries. Considering the low profile that the community keeps and its rapidly dwindling numbers, it comes as a surprise to many Indians that there are any Jews at all in India. However it is a fact that India has for centuries been a port of refuge and commerce for Jews escaping persecution in their homeland. In fact, there is a tribe in Manipur that has been certified by Israel as being one of the Ten lost tribes of Judaism and they are encouraged to migrate to their homeland. Personally being a pro-Israel sympathizer, the Jews are a community for whom I have a lot of respect and admiration. A lot of that goes back to my exchange student days in America where a number of my closest friends were Jews. Reading about their history and the persecution they have suffered has made me admire their society and its values. They value education very highly and apart from commercial pursuits also follow intellectual careers in great numbers. A number of the greatest scientists and professionals of the world are Jews and they have made probably the greatest positive contribution to human society among all races. Israel is unfairly blamed today for much of the wars and strife of the world, particularly in the Middle East, which is most unfair considering that not a single Arab-Israeli conflict has ever been started by them. However, unfairness is something the Jews are used to encountering and I guess they do not expect the present to be any different from the past.
Anyway, as we made our way to Jewtown, we were surprised to find streets empty, many shops closed and no tourists around. We soon found out that the reason for that was that Friday is a holiday in those parts. Apparently, Sabbath is one day early here. We took a few pics of the synagouge from the outside and made our way to the Dutch museum. That too unfortunately was closed and the day seemed to be hurtling towards being a complete washout. However the church of St.Francis was open and we made our way towards it. Located close to the beach, we walked towards it refreshed by a cool breeze (plus the fact that we were sure we had been blacklisted by all the autodrivers of Mattanchery). The church is pretty big and impressive and was built by the Dutch some 300 odd years ago and it functioned as a place of worship as well as a cemetery for those Dutch soldiers who having undertaken a long journey to India had to undertake an even longer journey somewhere else. There was an interesting collection of artifacts of Dutch heritage and some tombstones bearing inscriptions located inside the premises, which for some reason were completely deserted when we went in. Coming out of the church, we then loitered around the beach for a while, looking at abandoned dredgers, more cantilevered fishing nets and fish hawkers displaying their wares. Having spent sufficiently long there, we then decided to return to mainland India by taking a ferry to Ernakulam, which functions as a giant community taxi in these parts. In the evening, we decided to take a boat cruise around the Cochin port, which allowed us to look at the huge naval and commercial ships lining the harbour. We were in a decent sized boat ourselves, however, we were practically dwarfed by the huge vessels that we saw. The tankers carrying oil and other merchandize in the containers were huge as were the impressive ships of the Indian navy. Landing ashore, we spent some time walking further around the city sampling some coconut water, which inexplicably cost as much as it would in Delhi pr Ahmedabad, which was surprising considering everywhere we looked there was a coconut mountain to greet our eyes. To while away more time, we decided to go in for a first day show of Neal and Nikki at Shreedhar theatre. Suffice to say, it was a decision we have regretted ever since. The movie was an absolute disaster and we would have been better off with our initial plan to watch a Malayalam movie instead. The theatre was somewhat different from the ones I've seen in other cities, primarily in the fact that just adjacent to the screen were two giant pillars carved with the images of a couple engaged in some erotic poses. That ties up so well with the observations I made previously about the extent of sexual permissiveness in Malayalam society. Anyway, what that movie proved was that we are now witnessing the rise of a new pan-Indian phenomenon, one called Abhishek Bachchan, his cameo appearance in this damp squib was the only time the audience clapped and roared its approval. Other than that, the only time this movie made the audience happy was when it got over. Truly, the day had been one of wasted opportunities and the movie only exemplified that.
The next day was the last of this amazing trip and as it often happens, there were a few pangs of separation from the place which in just a week had become a mini-home for us, which we had traversed so extensively in such a small period of time and which had treated us to such amazing sights, experiences and hospitality. By this time, all of us were thoroughly exhausted of the tourist routine and so decided to minimize our movements. Hence we decided to take in lunch at a nearby dosa joint and go in for another movie, albeit this time in a different theatre so that we could truthfully claim that we had seen a new part of the state this time. We first sauntered into have a bruch at a South Indian restaurant and this time around I had a sense of achievement as far as my Malayalam was concerned. At one point, Cita told the waiter attending us for "two bottles of Coca Cola", a phrase which the poor chap obviously struggled with, so Cita repeated it two or three more times but the two of them were no closer to reaching a common ground when I stepped in and confidently announced "rand Coca Cola", at which the waiter's eyes brightened as though he had recieved heavenely enlightenment and within a few moments he had materialized with two - no more, no less- bottles of the pseudo-pesticide. With this gesture I had buried the trauma of the past. However, we didn't dwell too much longer on this success and sauntered into a hall called Mymoon to watch the afternoon show of "Ek Ajnabee". Well the movie was marginally better than the one we had seen last night and once again, the pan-Indian popularity of Abhishek Bachchan was proved when the audience once again went into raptures with his guest appearance in this movie too. Having whiled away the afternoon, there was very little left for us to do except pack up and say goodbye to this beautiful state and go back to Ahmedabad. The past 7 days had seen us crisscross the entire state, landing up on beaches,in forests, in hills and in police stations, we had encountered genial shopkeepers, sympathetic locals, helpful policemen and firebrand union workers, in short, the entire spectrum of Malayalam society and it had been an enriching experience for us, it was a mixture of adventure and relaxation and the impressions that were left on our minds I'm sure will last for a long time. I hardly guess that there is a moral to any travelogue, but the one thing that I definitely learnt from my 7 days was that we spend most of our lives in such a stifling insular world these days that everything is peripheral to us. Our country is broad, not just in physical expanse but also in cultures, in lifestyles and at the same time has numerous threads of unity running through it to not make one feel like an outsider. The stereotypes that we build up about each other, in most cases just as a joke and benign, should not become accepted truths. I think we would all be richer for that.


PS Kerala Police rocks!!