At 3 we were supposed to wake up. At 3 I woke up.
This time, I couldn't wake Hari up though. He locked his door.
Brilliant.
Probably it was for the better. Better to reach late than not at all. After all did we have pretty crazy couple of weeks with non-stop action. That's why I decided to surrender control and let him sleep.
Seems like we both needed it:
3 hours later he woke me up.
Then, at 6, we started and actually... this was my Goodbye to Kerala. For this time.
We were on the way to the neighbouring state. Tamil Nadu. As legends say, according to every single Tamil person there is, they inherited the oldest language of the planet. That sounds to me worthwhile to check out. If, by any chance, there is a language professor amongst you that has more insight on this, I'd be happy to hear more.
One cultural insight Vichu and Hari had.
Keralites are best at showing off. They will have big cars, bright homes but nothing on their bank account. Maybe even minus.
Tamil people will appear like beggars but have millions of INR on their accounts.
Remember when I said I didn't understand why Prabhu thought it was hot in Kerala?
I started to understand. Just from the looks of it, even though the place we went to was just 250 km away, was completely different. Completely.
What was green. Became brown.
Houses built for rain. Became houses built for dryness.
And once we got out of the car I fully understood what Prabhu meant with "its hotter in Kerala". Because even though it was supposed to be something well above 30 degree Celsius, it was okay for me. Because it was dry.
Prabhu surely didn't expect Hari to be punctual. But 3 hour delay? Not even Prabhu could have expected that. Inside he was surely disappointed, after all we couldn't take a look at some cool places, only I would get the privilege later. Although, I was so exhausted, just sleeping would have been also nice for me.
Here Hari said goodbye, and with him gone it was now time to relax and take a nap. But not in India. When you're here you're being shown around until you cannot stand anymore. And when you cannot sit anymore you'll be shown so long around until you cannot sit anymore. That's how it goes. And so on and so forth. People love their homes and want to show as much as possible.
Whatever follows, one of the most touching moments was to meet Dinesh. Prabhu's brother. The reason why Prabhu is still alive. Papa would have loved him too. Although we didn't understand each other it was a blessing. From getting a tutorial on how TV remotes work, to eating food together, to dancing together, to getting advice about what really matters:
When you're back, you gotta take good care of Mama and Papa. Okay?
Sure, my brother! I am doing my very best.
Then there were some places we explored.
For example the local washing machine. Or bathroom. Or swimming pool. Or anything you can imagine doing in running water. It's a canal.
Or the nearby mountains with a dam.
Or the parents of his friends.
Or the houses of his friends. Videocalling their families. Et cetera, et cetera.
Remember what Hari and Vichu said about Tamil people? About people seeming normal but earning quite well? The friends you see in the image are good examples, one of them has a T-Shirt factory, multiple farmlands, a modern house with solar and even a swimming pool, something I haven't seen here before, sending his daughter to a better school, etc.
Calming Down, Flying Far
I saved you the images but man was I done. And I already started to get a little bit cold. So I tried declining heavy food but that was futile. Again... eating can be work.
Everything I was offered I was offered in love and out of worry I might be hungry. Everything I was shown I was shown out of worry of me being bored.
And then, at night. After aligning with their plan, I booked my flight tickets to Ladakh. Tomorrow evening I'd start. Monday morning I'd arrive. Before that though something important was waiting. The palm leaf library.
And at night, we shared really cool family time. With the star of the day - even though I didn't really mention her.
Aadvhika, warm welcome and all the best to you!
Palm Leaf Library here we go!
