Baseless rants, Frivolously Yours, Places

Uphill & Downhill

As per usual, it has been sometime since the last post. I have taken up a new assignment at work and have quite a few things on my plate. I couldn’t find time to write. I haven’t even had enough time to read and my TBR tray has a pretty tall stack.

Talking of books, I had been reading Picadilly Jim sometime back. I was only halfway through it and had lost the book. And somehow mysteriously it has now appeared on my work desk. You are forgiven, penitent thief.

A couple of weeks back I went uphill to Kotagiri for a short holiday. It was a sweltering summer in my town. The mind ached for a cool place and the body faltered to the Nilgiris. It was a refreshing change going from 33 – 35 degrees to 14-15 in a matter of 8 hours. I went with the family and we stayed in a cozy cottage in the middle of a tea plantation. It was the perfect place to unwind. Misty mornings, filtered sunlight with generous downpours for a couple of hours in the afternoons. Plus a most beautiful view to wake up to. The world is a beautiful place.

Waking up to this

There is one thing I wanted to write about – Panamarams. I have always liked the routes I take to work. One of my older jobs had me take the East Coast Road everyday, and I would travel around 3-4 hours overlooking the sea. Yes crowded buses, sweaty passengers who assume they are playing kabaddi – but you could still just somehow become oblivious to all that and just get lost in the beauty of the sea, the sand, the horizon, and those lovely panai marams. Palmyra palm or Borassus or just Pana maram. The blue-brown seascape & the pana marams would seem like the ever present backdrop and the towns would be the foreground frames that kept changing. Everyday on the ECR was like watching a bioscope show.

I think I can boast of a decent memory, and I have seen a fair share of panamarams pretty much everywhere in the state. Tall, dark & handsome. No wonder it is the state tree. There used to be so many of these trees just strewn along the geography of Tamil Nadu. They just grow on their own whims & fancies. The pretty palms. And their nungu fruit!

Palmyra Palms

The road that I take now to work has pana marams too. But I think they are getting lesser in number. I remember there used to be large paddy fields not very far from home. The borders were lined with palms and there used to be so many parrots in those trees. I would wander around those fields on weekends listening to the parrots, hunting bugs & beetles, living life to the fullest.

Now, i can’t remember when I last saw or heard a parrot. I don’t see as many palm trees. And sadly, those paddy fields aren’t there anymore either.

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Baseless rants, Frivolously Yours, Growing pains

That was the fortnight that was

I think That was the week that was would do better as a fortnightly column. For two reasons, 1. Nothing exciting happens in my life in such a short span as 7 days. 2. Barely anything happens in my life in such a short span as 7 days.

So, here I am, at the beginning of March – the days getting longer and the nights less colder. And before you know it, I will be sweating like a pig’s rear. Speaking of which, I actually have no idea how a pig’s rear looks like. Let alone a sweaty one. What we know is a drop, isn’t it?

A week back I saw one of the most beautiful things ever. I was on my way back home on a bus. The sun was pondering on setting and was glowing this beautiful red-orange. The bus passed by a stretch of paddy fields that had just been watered. The plants were young and short and the sun gleamed brilliantly in the water filled row spaces. It was inarguably the prettiest thing I’ve had ever seen. Like alternating strands of green & scintillating orange against a clear blue sky in the background. Beautiful.

I am going to move the post from Jediunderpants to this blog. Centralization measure.

Also, the civil war in Syria has aggravated and there are many innocent people dying everyday – Kids, babies. Gives me a stronger reason to not go back believing in God. Also gives me a stronger reason to hate myself. There are children in agony and pain – and here I am making playlists for the evening commute. God!

I hate that the world is a terrible place.

Frivolously yours,
I remain,
pH.