Karela- God's Own Bitter Gourd

Kerala is one of the strangest places I've been to. I haven't quite decided what I am to make of it. Other matters aside, it's the only place where I've seen reservation for the fairer sex to such an extent that even eating joints have a 'ladies' section with high translucent sliding walls to give them their privacy while they devour rasam rice. Most joints don't have menus either, and you pretty much have to resign yourself to a 'meal'. Where there ARE menus, the only thing actually available are the meals again, more often than not. One of the biggest delights is buses stopping randomly whenever you hail them, a little like the mountains.

I'd been warned that the Lungi bearers like to stare a lot. I don't know why that is any different from a lot of other places. Ok, so instead of thrice, they'd turn around a fourth time. But can it be helped if some people like to satiate their curiosity a little more than the rest? It doesn't quite change the thought behind it. Jaded from the unnecessary attention, heat, queries and fixed meals , I longed for God's Own Country. Whatever happened to the palm-lined beaches, coconut groves and boats on backwaters? Either the entire thing was a hoax, or I was plain in the wrong places.

The day I reached Cliff Land, I realised the latter was true. It was the only time that I was actually smiling through a temperature and a weird rash I'd developed overnight. For it was here that I had my first tryst with the hospitable side of Lungi Land, and menu cards with Puttu and Appams alongside the eaten-to-death meals. Post a Kathakali performance to top the cliche I'd been subconsciously dying for, I knew I'd arrived, finally, to the land of the postcards and the promotion campaign. A trip down to the Cape, and then to the tea hills of Kerala, and I finally like the place somewhat. I'm not sure if it IS God's own country- I've been to places far more beautiful and friendlier- but I can call it God's own backyard that maybe needs a little weeding and pruning.