Sights and Seasons of Paradise: The Beginning

 Sometimes you have to let go of the picture that you have thought it would be like and learn to find joy in the story you are actually living.

-        Rachel Marie Martin       

Life, as John Lennon said, is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans. My plans got unsettled in a very poetic way this year. I was gazing at Cleopatra’s pool at Pamukkale, Turkiye on 12th September and the alignment of stars changed somewhere for me.

Cut to scene two. It was mid-October, and I was in “God’s own country”. Thousands of miles away in a part of the country where I have not been for last twenty years and language and ways of which I was blissfully ignorant of. Well, the common wisdom says that mortals have no control on the invitation from Gods. It is supposed to be sudden and so it was. But again, can a mere mortal resist the invite- I could not and so here I was- in the city of Padmanabh Swami. A city which has seen an amazing milieu of history. A city where at different points of time – artists, traders and intellectuals took refuge and got settled. Also a city, where you come and leave only with the divine will.

It did not take me long to get lured by the sights spread out before me. The colourful floral tributes outside temples for Navratri puja, tall trees of jackfruit, coconut and more, the heritage buildings with their wooden roof and ex-royal emblem – they were all very inviting and I gaped like a tourist. It rained every now and then and the weather was warm. The entire scene was so unlike north that on some nights I got up just pining for the familiar sounds, tastes and sights.

My welcome was amazing and the gestures for help- a plenty. Yet it took me time to push back the fear of unknown from my mind. Once in routine, my mind wandered on what I would like to fill my days with. Luckily, it was just then the state festival started. Criticized by some and attended by all, it was a crash course of state culture and mindset for me. I was floored with the variety of events and exhibitions, discussions, and debates. But first impressions barely give you the full picture. The depth of the issue often hits you much later. My introduction to Kathakali masks, for example, came in the most unusual way.

Building of Fine Arts College, Trivandrum

It was just an art exhibition at the Fine Arts College. I went there just for curiosity and to admire the college building. I saw some strange exhibits (as usual) and some good ones. But what I found most creative was a re-creation of Da Vinci’s The Last Supper, with Kathakali artists. 

I marveled at the art and creativity of the photographer (Vivek Vilasini), took and shared pictures of it with friends. It was only the day after, when a learned acquaintance pointed this out that I realized what these masks actually represented! The photograph was not only creative, but it was also provocative as Jesus and his apostles were wearing masks meant for negative characters. It was an interesting first introduction to city’s love for breaching the line of social sensibilities and rules in all aspects of life. Well, I guess, that is how they are a city of thinking people. Where classical arts and radical Marxism thrive side by side. Where, as a colleague pointed out to me – even Christian and Muslim communities have a Vidyarambha ceremony and the child is supposed to write” Om shree ganapataye namah”, where all communities happily enjoy dishes made out of beef (while rest of the country can’t dream of that) and where Virgin Mary in some village churches merrily dons traditional Kerala cream saree with golden border.

Arattu Procession on the Runway

But then, I should not be surprised about the contradictions and incredibility of things in this state. Certainly not after I came to know of Arattu procession, which happened just days after my coming here. The day when international airport suspended services to give way to a temple procession. Well, I have seen enough number of Mazars and temples inside public institutions, but this was a first for an international airport. As it turned out, twice every year, the beloved deities of Padmanabha temple of Trivandrum, take their ritual bath or Arattu . The idols are taken from temple to the Shangumugham beach for this purpose, following an ancient path. This is going on for last few centuries as per record. Now in 1932, when the airport was to be constructed and the runway design fell on the traditional route of this procession. The land belonged to the temple through the Royal Family of Travancore. Temple happily gave the land ( you see, Indian Gods are never in the way of progress and modern ways) but the condition was -  twice every year, planes will halt to give way to the Gods. Even now this continues. This, for me was very symbolic of the soul of this city and this land of Gods. Always open to progress and new ways and yet deeply rooted in the traditions of history.

So that is how it began, I in the divine land. Much like the fabled ships of King Solomon landed in a port called Ophir (now Poovar) in Thiruvananthapuram in 1036 BCE, my ship has landed here. The thought of chronicling the experience came couple of days back while enjoying a golden sunrise surrounded by lush green tea gardens of Munnar- but more on that in a separate post. Hopefully I will try to capture the sights and seasons of this amazing place regularly for a year.