The Sunny June 25th. I guess I packed my bag properly. But I was never satisfied with packing my bags for a trip. Always I would forget something. This time was not an exception. The trip was to Eraviputhenthurai, Kanyakumari District. A Journey of 737 kms to the Southern tip of India. I was like Going down and down. Just to face disappointments first. Things eventually got better. But there was something about this place I visited that disturbed me throughout the trip and even after I got home. To brief it up, God owns the place, but to an extent the Government disowned it.
I decided to bring to words whatever I felt about this Journey. The Happy and the Ugly Side. For this place has given me so much love, I repay the love with these words. I try not to be serious in my posts but at some points it is inevitable. We got off our train at the Nagerkoil Junction. And from there we realized that the rest of the trip was broken into segments. The third part was the most aching. We were forced to the last row of the bus which had one of the coolest driver I had ever seen. The roads that the bus travelled were not wider than my streets. It was like the roads were exactly measured after letting a bus pass through. Most of the time the wheels were on the side sands of the road. It was a thrilling ride to the destination. The beautiful sights on both sides of the road decreased the pain a little. All the houses resembled the descriptions in “The God of Small Things” book. I had that expectation before the trip began and Ms.Arundhati Roy had portrayed the place perfectly. A 10 on 10 perfect description.
Talking about the food in the place, I was very uneasy with it first. But when I got to know that’s the resident’s style I got used to it. But still on the 2nd night they served us Idli. It’s the traditional food back at home. I was like filled with Tears of Joy seriously!! The food was good for the rest of the trip. Though I did not fill my tummy every meal, it was good.
Few incidents in this journey were the greatest learning experiences for me. More than all the Tech Stuff they (Not me!) discussed, few discussions I had with the residents hit me hard. A friendly cricket match was organized within the campmates. I had no interest in playing. So I stood out. A guy came over to me and a light conversation sparked up. He asked about us. I told that we were all from different colleges of the south. He asked me if I knew all MY campmates. I told I knew only 10 among the 90. Then he told me to go and talk freely to all my campmates. He also asked about the girls at the camp. I shaked my head and he smiled. I teased the players for their funny game along with those kids. I remember 3 of the pack Sugilan and the twins Zinadine and Zidane. Zinadine got my mobile from me and started using it freely. I had no stuff to hide, so I let him use it. After seeing some random photos. He got my friend’s mobile and opened the gallery. He did not react much, but my friend did (Explanations not needed for this). We took a group pic and after the game we went into the beach.
A beach was located very close to our stay, like a 5 minutes’ walk.
But the beach was not a happy experience. It was broken into fragments throughout the stretch. The water was unclean. Never have I seen such big waves continuously even at Marina (Which is a beach back home). The water has greatly moved in and deaths and mishaps due to the giant waves are common at the place. Yeah! I mean it. A resident who talked so freely to us about the village and showed so much love to us explained us the case. The people have never slept peacefully as the sound of the waves keeps them awake. The fear of being washed away rises during the monsoon. Though the waves looked beautiful for selfies and photography after hearing about the plight of the people it was a disturbing sight all the trip. The only solution, but a really complicated one would be to provide alternate housing conditions. But it is not easy as it sounds!
On our way back home from the trip. I asked the auto rickshaw driver about the condition of the roads. He told us that the roads were laid long back and the potholes are patched only during the election campaign days and the politicians use it as a tool to ask votes. This is the dirty side of Indian Politics that stops every Indian Youth from entering it. The truth that they want to see in the scenario is only present in their manifestos and never in their actions.
There are three things that unites this village Christianity, Brotherhood and Football. You heard it right. Many youngsters from this village represent the state in Santosh Trophy National Football Tournaments. Football is their pastime, their symbol and their identity. I was really surprised by a thing about the village there was a chapel at an interval of ten houses approximately and every Chapel was a big, crafted one.
The sole purpose for which I chose this trip was to get experiences and I got a fair share of it. Oh! Wait. I also got some beautiful photos taken by me in my mobile which I will treasure a lot. This is how I wanted this this particular travel post to be. A picture of the village that means a lot to me.
P.s.- For more photos of the trip check out my Instagram Account- just_barath
The first page of my travel diaries – The link Page 1