My Experiments with Time

Today we are having the last jackfruit of the season, the aroma of the over-ripe jackfruit permeated the air. This officially marks the end of summer, the end of chakka-kaalam and maambazha-kaalam (jackfruit season and mango season). For Keralaites, and specifically non-resident Keralaites- NRKs (a coin termed by my friend for Mallus who live elsewhere), jackfruits and mangoes are a nostalgia. It reminds us of our grandparents and cousins, summer vacations and monsoon weddings.   After having spent fifteen months in Kerala, my longest time here, I can definitely say the summer that culminates in the monsoon (April-July) is the best season to live here. The mangoes and jackfruits are the only solace during the scorching summers. They silently tell us that by the time you consume all of us, the monsoon will be here. So dutifully we devour all the jackfruits and mangoes not just in their raw and ripe forms, but in their multiple avatars of chakka kandal, chakka varatti, chakka a...

It was a breezy Sunday morning in July. The monsoon must have pitied us poor human beings and decided to stay on for a while. The rains had just stopped; and the sun seemed to be unsure if it should make its presence felt. The magnificent panaroma of lush green trees adorned with droplets of water against the clear blue sky was soul soothing.  A dozen or more coconut trees spread across the stretch of land with plantains- in-between barely allowed a view of the neighbour's house. To my right were a pair of large mango trees, water drooping from its leaves. Our backyard was filled with a mix of jackfruit and coconut trees. It was no dream, I was in God's own country! It's been five months since I moved in, and this blog is long overdue. It was a hard choice to move from the bustling city of Chennai, which I call my hometown to Pallikara, a beautiful town beside the sparkling green Thejaswini river. But Covid, with its updated versions being released faster than Samsung and A...