A Lazy Weekend

It was yet another uneventful Sunday morning with my cousins. Having nothing to do in particular, we zipped towards the local pool of water carved out by the canal that transports water from Kuttiyadi dam to Punoor River, stretching itself over a fair distance. It was when a cousin of mine dropped out a crazy Idea.

“We’ll take a Saturday off and vanish into some ataraxic location with the whole family”

He said as he dropped himself off the ledge into the deepest part of the fast flowing stream. I then postponed the idea of diving in for a few minutes and contemplated on this spark of thought.

“Well that would work, and let it be Wayanad”

I said, as I took the flight downwards off the narrow bridge towards the same spot where he left the water fazed. And the plan was waved a white flag unanimously by everyone under the roof.

The ghat roads of Thamarassery acts domicile for motley varieties of ‘Cercopithecidae’ (Don’t get hysterical, that’s the scientific name for monkeys). The famous dialogue of Kuthiravattom Pappu; “Thaamarassaery choram…” echoed from almost every car on the road. The roads and hairpin bends towards the top were enjoying a sauna bath in mist. Rising early and the ‘porotta-beef’ combo for the breakfast made a few of us yawn with moist eyes while the vehicles were trying to tackle the parody of lunar craters near Kalpetta.

A right turn few kilometers prior to Sulthan Bathery leads to Edakkal Caves, which are known for the pictorial writings carved out six thousand years prior to Virgin Mary getting impregnated with her child. Few hundred meters down that road you’ll get intruded by a 6x3 feet board painted in black with white letters H, T, D and C that are arranged in a circle that leaves you bewildered on where to start reading. A detailed description just below the letters exposes the secret with its bold and crisp letters: “THE HILL DISTRICT CLUB”. And we were welcomed to the club, as the board typified. Overtaking the Mahindra load king zoom parked aside on that constringed road was a tough task, but we managed to do so; and the result was fruitful.

It appeared in front of us, a modest yet luxurious structure carved out well and it fit into its surroundings pretty well too. We were welcomed by an energetic lad who introduced himself as Arvind Dev, the BDM of Monogram Resort. As soon as we entered the campus, I felt a strange vibration on my right thigh. Wait a sec; that was my phone ringing. Mr. Vinod on the other end welcomed me to The Hill District Club with a word of advice that the welcome drink they’ve prepared there in the club may get wild if we were to make it wait for a few more minutes. Word taken, we hastened towards the club.

Confused? I know you are. The Club, The Resort; well, they are siblings under the same roof. Laid on a common ground, they cocktails the campus spread over four acres of land. While the younger sibling named Monogram Resorts was the first one we came across, whose duty is to accommodate the guests while the second one seduces you from a long distance with its charms and curves. Ten minutes it was, and we were on the vast parking ground of The Hill District Club. Mr. Vinod, Manager of the club was an energetic young man at his heart with grey beard trimmed in synchronization with his face. He took me for an abbreviated walk around the campus with a perfectly blended mocktail of garden fresh carrot and lemon in a zombie glass.

We came across the campus kitchen, with images perfectly painted head to toe. The painter, a friend of Vinod, made the whole kitchen structure his canvas. The painting scripted a story from right to left - From the tribesmen era rich in greenery and peace of mind, to the polluted and chaotic tourism era of Wayanad. We then crossed the fishing pond on the other end over a logged bridge and headed straight towards an old fig tree which was courteous enough to treat the guests with a few sweet figs.

It was then followed by a drenched hour in the swimming pool in which diving was out of question as it was just four feet deep. However, Vinod did say with a wink: “Well, if you’re confident enough on your swimming skills, you may use the natural pool beside the artificial one, for diving purposes”. Me, and a cousin of mine tried them a couple of times by the way. Almost every member of the family including my little Zainab who just turned 30 months old that month, dipped themselves in the cold water. Although Zainab was frightened by the crocodile statue on a corner of the pool at the first look, it was then she who tried frightening the statue.

The staffs in charge took a mental note when I mentioned the lunch time, and the food was steaming fresh exactly five minutes prior to the schedule. The Dining area is a well-built tent with iron poles as pillars and roofing tiles paved on the roof. The biggest of those tents where we took positions could accommodate forty two platters a time. The bearers took their positions behind the table with serving pans after lighting up its buttocks. The pans opened one by one revealing what it has in store. A traditional Kerala lunch with almost all its dishes along with crispy chicken fried in small pieces were washed out in a matter of few minutes. The lip smacking feast was topped up with delicious kheer (or we call it payasam). Loud burps were followed by eye moisting yawns. We decided to embrace the younger sibling. It welcomed us with cozy beds and a slight drizzle played orchestra for the lullaby and in no time the snoring session commenced.

The evening activities had to be planned. Me, and a cousin ventured out to hunt for a few prizes to be distributed skipping the noon slumber. The mall and shops of Sulthan Bathery were raided in hunt of few weird goods that were later enshrouded in gift wraps and distributed amongst the winners of the evening games. Atop, a cake too was added to the menu for the day. Two hours later, all were gathered at the hall near the bonfire area for games. A few games, squalls and appraisals echoed the moods of the inhabitants. Crispy ‘pakodas’ accompanied the tea that followed. The sun was beginning to fade away by the time. The setting sun behind the ‘Elephant Rock’ glowed in its glorious yellow shade but the cloud and the downpour played its villain part forbidding the view to kiss the 35mm sensor of my Nikon D750.

Outdoor games were next on the list. Basketball was our preference, so the arrangements were made.      After the darkness took over, we gathered in a small open courtyard where we cut the cake and distributed even amongst the staffs of the club. Microphone and speakers were arranged happily on request. A few games continued and the prizes were given away. Dinner was waiting us as we climbed down the stairs. Unfortunately, we were kept away from camp fire due to the rain. What followed was a surprise for the newlywed. The Room was decorated with rose petals on bed. A shot of grape drink with along with a strawberry cupcake and wishes made their day.  

          It was somewhere around four in the morning. A creepy noise from one of the mobile phones snatched away my precious slumber. Devoid of sleep, I took a crisp walk out of the room. The temperature was low with lightest of drizzle. With the remains of sleep still dancing between eye lids, I was in no mood of noticing or appreciating the ambience. My Kindle paper white in association with Dan Brown entertained me for the next hour. After the morning prayers, I sat down outside the room contemplating on what to do. Then it thought – “why plan something? Let the things happen”. In no time I took my place behind the steering wheel. The four wheels took me to nearby town - kolagappara.

          The uncle at the tea shack transferred his one meter long tea into the travel mug I had with me, which then travelled with me right till the club. I took out a diary which is a constant companion of mine nowadays and walked towards the small tent near to the fishing pond, crushing the dew dripping grass blades. It was a modest structure with a small table and two chairs arranged accordingly. A few climbing perch fishes popped out their heads out to check on me- whether I have an angling rod with me. Relieved, they backed away sighting me with nothing alarming. The two White Peking ducks with a cute duckling climbed over the logged bridge and came walking towards me. The temperature was chilly and there was ample sunlight by now. Mist was nowhere in sight, yet the temperature and the greenery around gave me a heavenly feeling.

I took my seat on one of the chairs, opened my diary and started scribbling the first chapter of my debut book. Word’s came flowing. The flow got uninterrupted. The words got dramatically deep and the emotions overflow. By the time breakfast was all set, I could emphasize how the book would look like.

          Breakfast was a combination of American and South Indian cuisine. “So we are almost done” I said gulping down the grape juice. Every one attentively turned towards me with sharp ears. The Immediate actions were explained. After an hour in the pool with a softball, we were done with the activities in the club. Few more hours were spent within the compound and we were off on the open road. Traditional Thali meals with Fish curry was ordered at a restaurant on the way named in a strange fashion - ‘Nest N Mist’. The food could have been better as in terms with the ambience. What followed was a visit to one of our relative. The hurly-burly prepared homely snacks were delicious; with which my favorite beverage – Sulaimani reserved a space in my belly. Talking a walk around the house located in midst of coffee and rubber plantations was a unique experience in itself. Altogether we shared a few family affairs and jokes. Spending a long relaxed hour there was bliss.

The next destination on the list was Soochippara waterfalls and the next event was an overheated engine on the way. We tried every possible way to cool it down, parking aside the road. After twenty minutes of rest, Water was carefully transferred down the tube of the radiator. Alas! The tube has lost its connection with the radiator somewhere down the engine. Helping hands were extended for nearby homes. Another glassful of ‘Sulaimani’ was an extreme act of hospitality by Mr. Mayin, a neighbor to our breakdown site. Mr. Mujeeb, son in law to the other neighbor went a step ahead and got his hand greasy and successfully connected the tube to the radiator. The engine cooled down as we left the pit-stop. It was just a three hour drive home but the road blocks and mad traffic forced us to proceed in a relaxed yet frustrated pace. The odometer refused to climb above 30kmph on the ghat roads. A lavish dinner followed and we were home as the hour needle took a minute step forward and landed on XI.

          At the end of the day, it was indeed a relaxing weekend, a warm welcome for the new member in the family, and a few memories to cherish. And I was left with two things – A newly conceived book and a phone that shattered into pieces during an orgasmic moment of games the day before.

This was what I left at the feedback book of the Resort

Serenity,

if it is to be concluded in a single breath.

The misty hills were kind enough,

To shower its charm all upon us.

The Rain, the mist, the chilly breeze,

Joining hands with the luxuries up here.

The words fail to flow,

My pen fail to express.

Wondering how heaven would be,

If in this world, this it would be.