Roots.

Kerala. Kerala and this casual remark my mum made while on the airplane. “God is a pretty creative chap na Anchi?”
“Hmm…” It was one of those ‘hmms’ I give people that makes them think I am listening when I am really in a world of my own (Ooops! … apologetic snigger).

But then the thought was immediately yanked back into the deeper layers of my consciousness. Apparently the cerebral cortex saw potential in it… the rest of the brain complied willingly.
As you must have realized I, personally, was left with little choice.

And yes, the ‘hmm’ changed its tenor… it went “Hmmm?” Some part of me obviously wanted to understand that more … ‘fully’? Or is the correct phrase ‘blow it out of proportion’. But then can anything that concerns beauty or creativity or God be talked about enough? The question of blowing out of proportion doesn’t really come up now does it?

Hmm… I was being silly and lazy. I decided to work with the ol’ head on this one. There has to be a point to this.

Before I tell you about the trip my brain and I went on (my heart, the poor over-excitable little wretch that she is, skipped along happily taking delight in the silliest things!) I need to tell you what Kerala was like.

Well, it was beautiful. And green. I’ve probably read way too much poetry and am very tempted like them poets to call the green a shade of emerald or jade or … err… I forget.

BUT NO! I am the inspired radical and shunner of all established doctrine! (Or so I like to kid myself, and you kind reader, will laugh and nod gently PLEASE??)

Therefore if you have suffered your way till here, you may want to suffer your way through my stubbornly original, attempted of what Kerala was like.

Like I said, it was beautiful.

It was mostly about life.

I don’t know which of these two would be the consequence of the other.

There wasn’t a patch of earth where something didn’t grow! Not a spot of soil that didn’t support life.

Once, my brain very critically observed that a patch that seemed particularly rocky had nothing growing on it. My heart knew better though. She quietly whispered to me that, that bit of land had her own share of secrets, her own little treasures buried there. I asked her how she knew. She answered like she always does, “I just do!”
Over time I have learned that this is the one and only true answer she could possibly give. Over time I have also learnt that no other answer would convince me.

We (the heart, brain and I) also spent some time thinking about the whole tourism department's marketing strategy. “Kerala: God’s own country”. A unanimous vote decided that this was ridiculous! Which country isn’t God’s own?!
But a second unanimous vote also decided that if God did have a “Favourite Place List” Kerala would definitely be on it.

Oh yes, the green in Kerala. The Green is constant. The Green is the blood that throbs through the veins of the land. The Green is the life and the Green is the beauty. At least that’s how it seemed to me. All of me.

Towards the end of the week the brain elatedly reported an all time high on its release of endorphins and similar neurotransmitters of the “feel good” genre. The heart smiled at the brain lovingly. I would love to tell you that I was terribly hungry during this momentous exchange, but you would call me trivial and unfocused! Therefore like any self respecting individual who knows when to keep her mouth shut, I shall refrain.

Pebble of wisdom:
Stupidity, like sunrises and sunsets is expected and beautiful. Thou shall not snub it. Merely laugh at it. The louder… the better.

Then there was the deal with the frogs and the crickets and the colour in my cheek. The first were mostly greenish-yellow, the second I never really saw and the third was a deep shade of happy pink.

Its strange how when you splash water on your face and lazily let it dry your cheeks respond with colour. What do they mean “I recognize the water”?

And the butterflies come and flutter by you like they know you... like you're always been there... like you belong to them...as much as the flowers they eventually settle down on... and the dragon flies! Them little show-off devils!

And the froggies… complain all night in loud disgruntled voices about how it’s been a mean summer and how the insecticide gets to the flies before they do... and you try to stay awake and listen but you fall asleep trying. They start again the next night... they don’t mind you falling asleep the gentle dears that they are. They often tell you the same story again… but its all okay, you know?

And the crickets... they are another talkative bunch. But so many of them talk at the same time I never know what they are trying to say. They are adorable though… each one of them. Like little children all too eager to tell you what they did at the fair! You laugh. And you listen. You don’t really understand, but you listen.

Its strange how your heart, brain and intellect respond to a place. Maybe the DNA knows… maybe its those evolutionary artifacts, junk DNA??? I think not. It’s that part of me that understands this is home to some part of me. And therefore we are happy. Therefore we are pink. Therefore we understand the tongues of those who are made of the same mud albeit a different species.

The Green runs in our veins.