Picture-perfect?

I had been going click-happy for some days now. And some of my experiments, obviously, had to spill over to the blog. So, here's an assortment.

the fragrant flowers

the river by the cemetery

the deepavali diya

wild grass

weary legs

the baoli

Of course, there are stories associated with each of these photos. But, those I save for another day.

Here and there

• The view of sea in the rains is an awesome sight – huge waves crash rhythmically on the sandy beach, the horizon is blurred with dark mass of ominous looking clouds, and the strong gale hits the face carrying hint of salt. It’s beautiful, yet you cannot miss the underlying fierceness of Nature on display. We just sit on the sand, looking at this splendour and hear the roar of the sea, as it rains all around.

• At night, in the more trendy part of the beach, inside a few winding lanes, the clubs, pubs, and discos come alive. Live music, karaoke, and general noise floats in air. Huge swarms of people throng for fun and there is a festive bustle all around. For a few moments, it is possible to get so overwhelmed with the goings on around you that the sea, which is just a stone’s throw away, is almost forgotten. It could as well be a Saturday night in a city pub.

• At the cathedral, despite the sizeable number of crowd, it’s surprisingly quiet. People sitting on pews – newlyweds, families, backpackers, nuns – all look around the huge hall and the altar in front. Among the group of mostly elderly nuns I spot a young one, almost a teenager, who looks a bit lost. She looks around at the surrounding grandeur in awe, looking much like a young girl who has caught a glimpse of some film star.

• At the seaside fort, it’s all noise and crowd and cameras. It’s difficult to imagine how this place might have served as a watering hole for Portuguese sailors who landed here after months of travel on high seas. Walking around, I hear a Bengali father talk to his little son. Both of them seem to be unimpressed with the fort. The father says, “After watching Agra fort, all other forts seem quite run-down and not-so-grand, isn’t it son?” The son nods his little head in quiet agreement.

• In search of some quieter beaches, we move down south on our last day of stay. Incidentally, it turns out to be an extremely pleasant drive. It’s a sunny day and the roadsides look impossibly green as we pass by paddy fields, ponds, coconut groves, and lovely little villages with quaint churches of all sizes. Our tour culminates with a sumptuous lunch we have at a quiet wayside restaurant. We gorge on the food, talk inanities, and mostly savour the salubrious air of sea.