It is good to get lost at Edapally junction
in that sea of people in the bus bay in front of emmanaul silks
to be exact, I could get lost in any part of kerala
it is the same to me ,kozhikode, thrissur or cochin
I am a foreigner
And i have adapted.
why ?
Why ,you may ask
why this indifference to one's own mother
simply because you cannot abandon your mother though you grew up in an orphanage
So goes for these places
I did not choose my mother
nor did I choose my native land
and I cannot orphan them
can I ?
I am familiar with some places now
As new memories are made
I remember places now
I remember fort kochi for the lanes sloshed in whisky and dreams
i remember vypin for small truths
I remember vytilla for heartbreak and pain
I remember wellington for incessant talk and friends
I remember calicut for numerous crossroads and junctions and restrooms
I remember thrissur for art and molestation
i do remember places now for each memory made
it was not like this for the place I grew
I know the temple and the paddy field
and the people in each house
like the woman on Google maps announcing each turn and curve
I would say this where I smashed the neatly piled red bricks with my lady bird bicycle
or take a turn in that alley and say this where I buy coloured glass bangles
Or take a left here ,this is where I light lamps filled with ghee fasting and in obeisance to devi
It is all vivid ,perfect with no doubts
and everything is doubtful in my own land
And then ,I decided to get lost at Edapally
sorry if I am geographically wrong
I stopped my car at the highway
Amongst the water logged fields
Overgrown with white lilies
my driver looked displeased
how could one waste travel and money
until then I had counted minutes and seconds
Of anticipated moments of security boarding and baggage
and now I stopped here at angamali a nowhere
and watched my flight overhead
What now he looked anxiously
let's take a detour
I said
and yelled at the plane
"I don't care "
I want to get lost
And switched off all accountability
He dropped me at Edapally junction
And i stood still in that movement
a flood of people
fear engulfed me
the airconditioned air filled my mind
a fake cherry tree with cotton and red glitter paper stood staring
People moved in with money and came out with loads
sweat, dreams, monotony, laughter expectations ,new hopes and hopes dangling in the bus bay
some comfort now ,I stood hugging my Adidas coat
I did not know where to look and was whirling around in small circles
when I felt being pulled
Your lanky arm
I was here trying to get lost
And here you were pulling me back
I walked with big steps trying to dodge you and hoping to disapper
And then it started to pour
I did not know which was louder
the rain or your anger
your knuckles white
is this why they call white with fury
even the rain seemed white
the cotton hung wet and the cherry Tree seemed drained
but language seemed fine
you drove
I walked
and it rained
it was perfect to get lost