Chittar Dam: The word that paints a thousand pictures!

(Click on images to enlarge)

It was the last day of May. The Pre-monsoon showers that heralded the mango season had left. The South-West monsoons were to be expected anytime soon. The Sun was up in the sky, though acting coy most of the time. The weather was perfect. The heart yearned to travel, explore and discover!

So, Sankar and I got together and decided to throw ourselves into the wilderness. With our travel base being Trivandrum, we were naturally spoilt for choice! A word of explanation is in order here: When one looks at a map of the town and adjoining districts..and reads between the lines latitudes, one learns that Trivandrum sits pretty at the centre of a circle, hemmed in by country getaways on all sides: Hills, waterfalls, streams/rivulets, dams, lakes, beaches and lagoons..all of them pegged onto the map within a 60 km radius of the town.

Our gaze turned south-east, and we set off to Chittar Dam on Sankar's Activa at eight in the morning. We careened along the serpentine curves of NH47, weaving our way through the morning highway traffic. At Marthandam town, we took a left turn and took the route that takes one to Thiruparappu Waterfalls and Pechiparai Dam.

In no time, Sankar's camera, which had hitherto been hiding in his bag, crept out excitedly and started going about its business. Paddy fields, village ponds and rubber plantations sat up, suddenly alert and full of life, and posed for the lens, as the shutter merrily clicked away. The distant hills and the clouds, it seemed, wanted to get into the frame too.

We reached Pechiparai dam, yet another dam built during the time of the Maharajahs to cater to the needs of the region known as 'the ricebowl of Travancore.' A very picturesque place. Pardon the cliche, but it did look like it was right out of a picture postcard! At that time, we weren't permitted to cross the dam to the other side, which we would doubtless have loved to. We moved on, wishing we'd spent more time there. Since the bridge over the spillway of the dam was still under construction, we took a fun detour: Rode down the sides of the bank, across the bed of the stream, up the other bank and back to the road!

Now, there are two dams at Chittar: Chittar dam-1 and Chittar dam-2 (as if you wouldn't have guessed!)
The road from Pechiparai to Chittar-1 has plenty of sights to offer. At one point, we even got off from the scooter and trespassed into a very inviting rubber estate, drinking in all the greenery and pandering to the camera's demands.

Chittar-1 is the smaller of the two. The low wall of the dam abuts the road. The reservoir was not full at the time, enabling us to climb over the dam and into the terra firma that led up to the waterfront. The view was magnificent! A thick carpet of grass spread itself from the inner wall of the dam all the way to the lake. The unassuming hills on the opposite bank of the lake, the shade of the sky and a soothing breeze, taken together, had the effect of casting a spell on us, holding us bewitched for several minutes. It was the camera, obviously cross for being momentarily neglected, that tapped  us on our shoulders and took us out of the trance. About a hundred feet to our right, a man was bathing his cows in the lake, singing to them. Everyday routine for him, sigh!

It was past noon by now. Of course, there were no restaurants in sight! We sped off to Chittar-2. There was this particular stretch of road, very narrow, that cut across through rubber estates on either side. Had here been a fog, it would've looked really spooky; and really romantic! We paused our journey and stretched out for a bit- right in the middle of the road! The canopy was enchanting, and the sunlight could filter through the leaves only if it made a bit of an effort.

Finally, we reached Chittar-2. We were given to understand that this was the place where a part of the movie, 'Rithu', was shot. The dam here is much larger. We parked the scooter on the road and walked towards the dam. Gulmohars in full bloom greeted us at the start of the walkway. Half a kilometre later, we reached the reservoir. It was a most beautiful spectacle. The lake, the mountains and the clouds played visual accomplice, while the breeze robbed us of all the reserve in our manner. I'd heard the expression, 'to throw caution to the wind' before; got to experience it first-hand there! It's very difficult to abstain from dancing when Ecstasy ripples across your soul. The spine goes a -tingle, the heart a-flutter and the spirit a-twitter! We suddenly felt a burning envy for all the winged creatures on the planet! What was more, there was not a soul in sight!

We walked along the dam, intoxicated by the sheer charisma of the place. At the other end of the dam, there is a dead tree that stands out on the edge of the lake. A round boat was drawn up to the shore near the tree. A herd of plump goats grazing in the grass nearby stared at us in pure astonishment, as though wondering what in the name of Chittar's-Greenest-Grass were these two human beings doing in this part of the world!

An abandoned shed lay further up, frozen in time. Weeds that were a golden-yellow shade and almost two-feet tall swayed gently, enslaving themselves to the whims of the winds that playfully sashayed over this placid paradise.

We left the place by around 3 in the afternoon. Took a different route on the way back, a shorter one. Entered the highway at Kuzhithurai jn. and dug in into lunch. The trip sort of imparted a whole new meaning to the term 'rejuvenation'. A perfect picnic spot, far, far away from the madding crowds. A photographer's holy altar. An idyllic retreat best suited for soul-searching. To top it all, a stone's throw away from Trivandrum!

To dot the ice and cross the tees

We've all heard the immortal and wise saying, 'Half a loaf-er is better than none'.. Inspired by the pith of this celebrated adage, and with a sudden urge to better myself, i promptly decided to loaf around.. and so, @tuxerman and yours truly started tweeting a few one-liners.. twisting a proverb here, contorting an idiom there.. We dedicate these twisted nuggets to Narendra Shenoy, who loves making up long, winding stories around punny one-liners.. which, by the way, are now popularly called 'shenoys'! :)

[Ye shall find sriram's tweets here]

Alrighty then.. setting my hand to plough.. :)

When osama's men crashed on the World Trade Centre, they cut a long storey short

It's when u write ur lab record that u realise that the graph is greener on the other side

Leopards in the zoo never move about. They sit in a corner all day. And y is that? Because a leopard can never change its spot(s)

When u've nothing to do on a lazy day, u realise that all roads lead to Roam

Believe me, there are a lot of people who care abt the environment. They consume cartloads of spinach for dinner, wake up early in the morning and start their day by Going Green.

Samsung LCD displays sell because they ain't afraid to show their true colours

Jayan picked up his lightener and lit his cigarette. After he was done smoking with one, he stood in the same place and contemplated a second cigarette. He flashed his lightener. Didn't work.. because Lighten-er never strikes twice in the same place, duh!

Did u see his new sportscar? It's the torque of the town..

If Fate turned Thakur (of sholay) adrift on the streets , he would probably go begging for arms first, and alms later

The whole town plunged into darkness, when in a fit of rage, two electric lines decided to meet phase-to-phase

MNS leaders can't stand north indians living in maharashtra. They're always on the lookout for hindi-bashing opportunities. And we know that Raj Thackeray wears glasses. So, it's true what they say: Hind(i)sight is always twenty-twenty

If a child is born obese, it's mother is forced to give a wide birth to it.

If Nandan Nilekani, the brain behind the Unique Identification Authority, were to suddenly turn into an insane wreck, he would have taken leave of his census.

The juice-shop owner has had a great business this season: his story has been of profets and sheikhs!

If there's a heavy rush outside public toilets, people waiting for their turn tend to get all irate and restless. Really, they ought to mind their Pee's and Queue's!

Jharkhand has not registered much growth, despite being a state with Iron mines all over the place. I guess that's what they call an Irony!

(click here): 'Jintian Company is one that produces yarn-dyed fabric, cowherd's professional factory...' Positive proof to show that 'Cowherds dye many times before their death' :P

Well, all's swell that ends swell!

Intruder in Wonderland

I do not know where it was. I cannot recollect when it happened.

Oddly enough, a part of me is happy that I do not remember the details. Another part of me is trying hard to guess them.

I was trotting up the mountain path. The mist was gliding along, hugging the luxuriant slopes in its heavenward gait. I found myself fluxed by the mist: 'practically inside a cloud', i fancied... In a matter of seconds, the whole valley disappeared from view...

Looking around in the mist, I couldn't discern much from the faint silhouettes shimmering a few yards away. They appeared to be signalling something. Directions, perhaps. I took them to be either shrubs or rocks, and kept walking. It felt insanely satisfying. Tiny droplets of water be-dewed me as i ambled along.

Mists are true travelers. They do not plan ahead. Nor do they know of their destination. They listen to the Wind when it grows powerful. They hover around mountains, at times making them look beautiful. This mist, in particular, was in no obvious hurry. Not wanting to miss out on any more views of the valley, I decided to halt and reclined upon a smooth rock. I closed my eyes and felt myself dissolving into the mist.

Percussion.. Rhythmic strokes.. Somewhere in the distance. I stirred slowly from sleep. The rhythmic strokes started again: the sound that a sharp beak makes when it caves in into a hardwood tree. Ah! I'd woken up to the melody of a woodpecker at its day's work. I opened my eyes and scanned the place. The mist had sailed on.

There was not even a suggestion of the mountain path anywhere in the vicinity. I must've strayed off a long way. I discovered that I was near the edge of a mountain. Obviously intrigued, i walked towards the edge and peered down.

If i describe what met my eyes as merely hair-raising, heart-stopping or spine-tingling, I should be punished. It was nothing less than spiritually uplifting!

Flowers: Hundreds and Thousands of them!

Theme: Fragrance and Colour!

Artist: He who created the World.. who left this part of it unknown to Man.. and who momentarily lost vigil: when a man wandered into His finest piece of art, hiding under a cloak in the shape of a mist.

The mist had left pearls on their merry petals. These flowers had seen nothing of the world.. and the world had seen nothing of them.. If ignorance was bliss, it was only theirs.. The ponderer somewhere in me felt troubled.. For whom do these flowers blossom everyday? Apart from the mist, wind and rain, who appreciates their beauty? Why did God even create them, only to keep them a secret unknown to the world? For years and years, the flowers must've bloomed everyday, not knowing how wonderfully charming they are, not knowing that a world of men exists, that a few of these men would admire them endlessly. Why did God have to rob us both of what we deserve?

Thomas Gray's legendary lines came to my mind:

'Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.'

Perhaps He did it for a reason. Midas, as we know, turned everything he touched into gold. Maybe Midas is none other than Man himself.. and just like Midas' own daughter who turned to gold upon his touch.. he ends up losing even those things he holds close to his heart, for Gold.. for materialistic gain and a queer pleasure only Man can identify with..

Perhaps many more such valleys exist, unknown to us.. The more unknown they are, the better..

A tough pill to swallow

Who says brave men do not know fear? At the core, a brave man is also a human being, and there’s bound to be Something that inspires fear in him... Something that sends a shiver down his spine; something that reminds him of his weakness, and strike him down, knocking him off his bearings.


And when that terrible Something happens, his celebrated bravery gets thwarted. Speaking of brave men, Achilles seemed to have had a rather notorious problem with his heel. Closer home, the author of this post, also widely considered to be brave, has a rather nasty problem with swallowing pills.

The very idea of having to swallow a pill causes me to writhe uneasily like an old table fan, fidgeting where to turn next. 
And I know exactly why. It does not take a psychiatrist to uncover the scars of my childhood experiences with pills and tablets to track down the cause of this fear. 

It all started when i was in the 4th grade.

One day, without prior notice, a giant lollipop decided to get ensconced in my throat. Just like that. Now, I used to think of myself as a curious kid open to new experiences, which included sampling candies & lollipops among other things. But this time, it looked like the giant lollipop had plans to overstay its welcome and intended to settle there forever. So I refused to be humoured anymore. I simply couldn't bring myself to pander to lousy lollipops and their unreasonable whims.

So, with all the lung power I could muster, I volleyed to evict the rascal out of his cosy new-found home. I coughed and splattered about all over the place, to no avail. Hell, I even tried new-age yoga techniques for rapid air-expulsion. Several attempts later, I gave up, defeated and subdued, my famed bravery and confidence shattered.

After this ghastly accident, every time I had to see a doctor, the cruel memory came knocking on my door, trying to haunt me with a lollipop the size of a fully blown balloon. I developed a particular dislike for doctors who prescribed pills.

For good old traditional wisdom says, "Eat fruits, drink water and do exercises. By all means, shun pills!", for a healthy lifestyle.

But in order to remain in the pink of health, I was forced to take pills from time to time, no matter what. So I came up with an ingenious solution to end my pill-swallowing woes.

Step 1) take a glass of water.

Step 2) place the pill on a flat surface, such as a dining table. Pick up a heavy object. Mercilessly crush the tablet to powder.

Step 3) Gloat over the crushed pill and let out an evil laugh for added effect.

Step 4) Dissolve the powder in the water and sip in style

The easiest, entirely hassle-free road to the radiant glow of health had just been discovered.

One day in summer, a rather nosy neighbour of mine (for I regret to say such people exist, who have their noses buried in the lives of others), found out about my Operation Kill Pill.
Within hours, the whole colony was talking about The Boy Who Couldn't Swallow Pills. The neighbour-in-question was a formidable lady with big, round eyes and a towering stature, unofficially known as the Gossip Queen (G.Q.) of the neighbourhood. Whenever she spotted something interesting, her eyes popped out like tadpoles jumping out of a well, before her excitement spread in all directions. Needless to say, the mimicry of amphibian life on her inquisitive face terrified children in the neighbourhood.

But they say, "Always stand up to your fears"...and I was a brave boy for my age. That summer, I took it up as a challenge to learn how to swallow pills, and choke my fears instead of myself. I picked up a carton of Cadbury's Gems, took out a Gem, sat out on the open terrace, relaxed my throat and summoned up my courage. Taking a deep breath, I placed the Gem far back on my tongue, took a sip of water and tried to swallow the Gem...and it worked! I was elated, overjoyed! What a gem this Gem truly was! 
There was a surge of confidence in me. The feeling of triumph in overcoming an irrational fear! Not really daunted by the summer heat of the afternoon, I wanted to try it again, to practise, to overcome the fear once and for all!

I picked up another Gem and readied myself...and then, events started unfolding in quick succession.

As I sipped some water, there was a sudden commotion behind me. Halfway through the process, with face turned skywards and not in the most elegant of positions, I turned around to the source of the noise.

G.Q. and her clique of girls stood on the terrace next door, glowing in their element, transfixed by the promise of new inflammatory material for gossip, watching The Boy Who Couldn't Swallow Pills make headlines.

Gossipmate#1 pointed and gasped, "Look, Vasumati! he's swallowing a pill!"

G.Q.'s eyes popped out as was customary in such occasions.

My throat suddenly gagged up and I started choking on the Gem stuck in my throat. The nasty memory of the lollipop flashed before my eyes again.

Gossipmate#2 pointed and gasped, "Look, Vasumati! he's choking!"
Even as a young boy gasping for air to survive on that summer afternoon, I thought the quality of live commentary was banal and sub-standard.

As a paralysed fear began to consume me, my vocal chords loosened up by reflex and I coughed decisively, launching the Gem in the general direction of the spectators. It was expelled, though not quite in style.

More pointing and gasping followed with dull commentary as the Gem ricocheted off the parapet wall of the terrace and escaped into the alleys of the neighbourhood. 
Sensing that the show was over and there remained nothing else to do, G.Q. and her brigade broke away disappointed. No new developments to report, the boy still couldn't swallow that summer.

As for me, I was back where I started, giving up after just one successful attempt, and psyched about the social interest that followed the failure of the next.

Perhaps that's why they say - "One swallow does not make a summer"

The crows-connection

Windows and balconies were invented just so that Man could gaze at the world outside and ponder.

Electrical lines and cables were invented just so that birds could perch on them and ponder.

If either of the aforementioned species has the company of another member of the same species, the pondering turns into conversation.

I gazed out of the window. A crow was perched on an electrical line. She was obviously pondering. Another crow came flying by and took perch on the adjacent electrical line.

Crow 1: Hey! What's up??
Crow 2: Ah! There you are! Heard u finally got a placement on top of Burj Dubai...Congratulations! (offers handshake/wingshake)
Crow 1: Wha...backoff! Wingshake? You out of your senses? We're sitting on electrical lines of different phase voltages; if u touched me, we'd form a circuit with a voltage difference that would kill bo.....
Crow 2: Okay, okay..gotcha! Damn those humans! Knives and fire everywhere!
Crow 1: Hehe...T hanks, by the way.. yeah, the Burj is indeed spectacular. But i wonder what humans are really after...
Crow 2: Er...what do u mean?
Crow 1: Look at us ; we're such a peaceful lot. And look at them...they're so restless...
Crow 2: Hmm... Evolution has been cruel to them, you say?
Crow 1: Well, you could put it that way. They've evolved too much for their own good. Now every man wants to be better than the next.
Crow 2: Hmm... Maybe you're right. Chronic restlessness...the insurmountable itch to 'progress'...
Crow 1: Yeah, and I'm not really comfortable with their definition of 'progress' either...it's got a lot to do with brute force and brute reason!!
Crow 2: It's like, where one man gains, another has to lose. It's like an endless, perpetual see-saw.
Crow 1: Believe me, this see-saw is incidentally what keeps the world going.
Crow 2: Eh? What do u mean? That inequality and imperfection are the hands that run the world?
Crow 1: Not really. Let's presume that man is ultimately selfish. Their world, unlike ours, will never become perfect. There will always exist differences that'll bother man to insanity; and these differences keep the see-saw in motion...and Evolution in action.
Crow 2: Hmm..alright...and what abt us?
Crow 1: Well, we are different..and way better off.. our happiness is absolute. If I get my supper and you get yours, we're both happy. As for man, it's a very complicated relative matrix of needs, passions and emotions that are forever trying to balance each other.
Crow 2: ...and the fact that 'it's all relative' makes things as they are?
Crow 1: Exactly! Their world needs as fuel - jealousy, anger, lethargy, fear, folly, hatred and imperfection; otherwise it would crumble down and mankind would fall...
Crow 2: Er...didn't get you there..
Crow 1: If every man were happy, then civilization would fall. If every man were contended, his life wouldn't be different from ours - all he would have to do is, what, eat and sleep?
Crow 2: Eat and sleep and ponder*
Crow 1: Hehe... So in such a world, there would be no disease, no crime, no hunger.. Necessity would be a non-existent concept.. Man wouldn't evolve.. he would stay put.. he wouldn't budge.. no art, no culture, no sophistication.. the world would be a very predictable, boring place..
Crow 2: So true.. and it all wonderfully connects! 'All the world's a stage, all the men and women merely players, and all of us crows merely spectators!'
Crow 1: Ha! Shakespeare, in all his hurry, left out the last bit.. poor bloke probably thought we crows wouldn't know of it!
Crow 2: Yeah! So much for all the entertainment! Man ought to live! Manwatching is a glorious pastime..
Crow 1: Hehe. Anyway, I'm gonna take off now. It's been great talking to u. Caw-caw!
Crow 2: Caw-caw!

Pic: The Global Ponderers' Summit

(P.S: Unless you feel guilty abt Not Blogging for 2 months at a stretch, never ever listen to a conversation between crows! Caw-caw!)