The writer explores more of Palakkad. He is on his way to Silent Valley, er..no… he takes a deviation on the way.
I don’t exactly remember who suggested to me this route: Mannarkadu-Agali- Anakkati-Coimbatore route. But all the while I was driving, I was thanking him profusely. The roads were all bathed in thick white mist. I drove very slowly down through the unexplored villages and strange places which would be etched in mind for a very long time.
It was 9am. The hamlet was still at peace sleeping. Should I follow this bus, or take a detour through this dirt road to see where a road-we-don’t-take-often leads to?
Suddenly I saw something, I pulled over the car to one side, and got out. Over there I saw a bridge, no, half-abridge, a bridge suspended in the air, the other half disappearing into thick mist.
The bridge to heaven.
I don’t know the name of the river now. Strangely I didn’t want to know. I stood there on the bridge for almost an hour to see the frigid water moving lethargically deep below.
Is that a bird or something that the mind creates with help of the mist?
After Mannarkadu the hairpin curves began. I pulled over my car at a certain turning when I heard the sound of a cataract.
A tiny rivulet on the roadside falling from misty heights.
A tractor with its one eye burning rumbled past me, negotiating that turn, and disappearing into mist again. Silence again.
Then a KSRTC bus. It is so romantic to see our red state bus, pierceing through the white mist – some visual treat opened by the movie ‘Ordinary.’
VN:F [1.9.20_1166]A journey like a dream,