Most of my precious moments, most of my energy have been spent to quench that inner thirst, but the fire still glows vigorously, more than ever. From my early days itself I had an aspiration, to search for the truth. I also had a dream of traveling along the foothills of the Himalayas, to the abode of Indian philosophy. I never thought it would happen; but it happened. The following is a sort of travelogue; some from the sporadic notes I made, some from my memory, but you can ‘t express it in the real form, you have to experience it yourself. The information given may contain errors, am not intending to give any wonderful geographical info or any philosophic adventures or any literature. I just wrote it down so that it may be inspiring and useful for people of similar dreams; it may good knowing how another person took such a road. This story is not a closed one, and don ‘t expect anything particular.

[If you are looking for geographical info on India, better read Lonely Planet: India; if you are keen on Indian philosophy and the mysticism around it, the best book I would recommend is 'Search in secret India ' by Paul Brunton; you are just interested in some adventures in life or philosophy, read Richard Bach; for simple but revolutionary and stimulating thoughts, read Osho; for tibetan philosphic adventures mixed with logic and some science, acceptable to even those i_dont_understand_so_i_dont_believe people, read T. Lobsang Rampa. If you really wanna know life, read yourself].

am not adorning the costumes of a philosopher or a sannyasin (or a writer ). me give myself to the passions of this world, give myself to my hormones; me don ‘t differentiate what good or bad is (everything is co-existent. your definitions are relative (you say ‘apekshikam ‘ for that in Malayalam)); I live to my heart ’s truth. but I believe that the life you live ought to have some meaning, something other than the routine style of eating, studying, sleeping, having a job, a family, children, dying… something off the usual cycle of events.

My passion for a journey got engraved in my heart and by the time I was doing my masters, I wanted to work it out somehow, I didn ‘t care whether the outcome would be fruitful or not. So our summer holidays were arriving, after our second semester exams and I thought this was the best chance. I went to the cusat library every day to collect some info on the roads I ‘ve to take, went through the maps on those dusty books, searched on google, wrote down some plans…

One day I bluntly told daddy that am going north, that I ‘ve booked the train ticket up to Delhi for 09.06.2001. He was like his mouth going O. He never gave me the consent.

I didn ‘t plan a lavish trip, as it would annihilate the fundamental cause of my journey. I had some sort of money saved from my pocket money; it was a meager amount, less than 3000 Indian rupees which is a small amount for a journey. Priya send me a money order of around 1600/- or something. 2 days before, daddy called from home and gave me 1000/- more. So after taking the to and fro tickets to Delhi (train to delhi and baaki travel by other means) and buying some essentials for the journey, I was left with something like 5000/-

I took the return ticket also so that I don ‘t have to find money for that later, whatever expenses I encounter; also I could plan my days wisely by setting a particular date for departure.

My friends were too much worried, they don ‘t know what to say, whether to encourage me or discourage me. Priya always tried to show a good face (in spite of all the worries she carried, she knew I have to go), she tried to be happy and helping before me in all the possible ways. And there were my seniors, bijoy, manoj, rajesh, sabu and all standing with me.

And you know what, few days before when I left from home to hostel; I wrote a letter saying I loved them (people at home) a lot and bla blah and abt mickey and put it in my cupboard so that they could read if I don ‘t come back.

So on 09.06.2001 at around 6 pm I was at the central railway station, ernakulam. Prem and rajesh was with me, they stood there till my train left. The train whistled at 6.25 pm and I was out to where_the_hell_am_going,_I_donno. As I sat by my window, I felt emotionless then; I think that was better than sitting worried. I don ‘t know where I was going; I don ‘t know what will happen to me. I had a vague idea of where I had to go. I just wanted to go. I knew my legs would lead me where I ought to go.

Pages: 1 2 3

Sept 28, 2002

mickey died, june 2004. i cudnt be with him in his last days and cud only cry from here.now am growing  a feeling that hez always with me, playing around me

classroom notes, 05.12.2000 2.25 p.m

sitting in the class
when physical oceanography is going on…

he talks about deep sea
when i’m falling into deep sleep

he talks about estuaries
when i’m away from all those worries

he draws some T-S curves
when i dream about some other curves

into the ocean of love
am i diving

rather sitting with blank eyes
and listening to meaningless words

classroom notes, 15.11.2000

did i say anything?

sanathana hostel, cusat, 21.02.2000 night

01.10.2002

dedicated to Priya [29.08.1979 - 13.08.2002]

It takes time and pain for me
to disappear myself
and then appear before you
Then i don’t know
how i would come out
befor your eyes
Afraid i would show myself
as a bird or a butterfly
or a tree or an ant
or just green
or as a blade of grass
with whom i usually identify myself
And then how would i get your attention?
Pecking your nose with my beaks
displaying my colors to you
dropping a fruit for you
climbing your arms,
getting inside your brassiere
and biting on your breasts
being just green
being soft to your feet
And if you would notice me
and kiss me
and hug me
I’ll be ever with you
as a bird, as a butterfly
as an ant, as a tree
as green grass
I’ll be ever with you
for you—
disappearing I am, disappearing
legs gone, head gone
hands alone writing this story
going…
coming…

santathana hostel, cusat, 02.05.01

when love happens again after a long time.. and you are out of SOBS,, 
SOBS ~ Society Of Broken heartS, Sanathana Hostel

we used to pen anonymous letters, custom in my class. atmospheric science guy (wind) used to chat with her (shawl) always; sea (oceanography) disliked.

I was mistaken
In reading your eyes
They betrayed me
When the wind blows
And take away that brown shawl
Don’t hesitate
Go with the wind
The wind you admire
Because I’m not the wind
I am only the sea
And try not
To flutter with the wind
Over the sea
As the calm sea
May enrage and foam up
Taking the shawl with the waves
Into the depths ~ to no escape
And your wind will be alone
Alone and alone as I am

the sea

17.11.2000 2.20 p.m.