On an unforgettable day, the skies of Palakkad were pregnant with the promise of a downpour, a staggering 16 centimeters forecasted by the weatherman. It was a chapter from my youth, a time when I cruised the winding roads astride my Suzuki bike, accompanied by my cousin on a quest to visit his friend in Kollengode, nestled on the far side of the Palghat Pass, amidst the majestic Western Ghats. His abode awaited near Thamarapadam, a name whispered by the wind.
Cloaked in rain gear, we embarked on our journey, a venture unaided by the guiding hand of GPS or the convenience of Google Maps. Our path unfurled before us like a secret whispered by the earth herself, revealing vistas of verdant paddy fields stretching endlessly on either side. It was a tableau of rustic charm, adorned with the bustle of buses and the bustle of rural life, where farmers transported their bounty.
In the gentle light of dawn, the sun struggled to pierce through the relentless curtain of rain, rendering its presence a mere suggestion. And then, as if by magic, the mountains emerged, cloaked in a veil of countless waterfalls cascading down their rugged slopes. Each rivulet, a testament to the raw power and beauty of nature, a sight that etched itself indelibly into the fabric of memory.
Upon reaching our destination, our friend led us to a vantage point where the mountains unveiled their splendor, their peaks kissed by clouds, their flanks adorned with the glistening threads of waterfalls. Here, amidst the backdrop of this breathtaking panorama, we indulged in the simple pleasures of life—a feast of freshly made dosai and chutney, washed down with steaming cups of strong tea.
As we savored the warmth of both food and camaraderie, a cool breeze danced through the air, a gentle reminder of the ephemeral nature of moments such as these. And when the time came to bid farewell to our mountain refuge, we embarked on the homeward journey, our bikes slicing through the rain-soaked air, tracing a path back to the familiar confines of the Palghat Pass, where the journey's end was but a prelude to the next adventure awaiting in the folds of time.
I had similarly a fantastic experience at the same place where I stayed the night, sleeping in the outdoors under the stars, all fully visible unhindered by urban lighting; and early morning attending to nature calls in the open field near a pond, like what humans have been doing for eons before toilets were constructed. A very original experience. Organic food, bathing in a spring. At the very foothills of the mighty western ghats.
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