WHYZZZAGGG!!

(travel)

The car rode an abrupt bend and then a rise, and I saw twinkles in the sky; countless; each living only for a jiffy; and passing on the life to its neighbour which would glow to its highest potential taking that generous little... as a zillion more would do that instant; and die; And be followed by an infinity more. The road spanned and inclined only a few meters ahead, after which was a distinct visual end; as if the sky opened from there without a gate. The sun and its shine were glassy. The sky was a strongly spread immense steel blanket and took up more than my eyereach. And the stains still shined.

It was the sea... cleaving the sky with such knack that you just cant make it out. And it was so high adding to the illusion. And they were the tiny aquatic disturbances... spread over every available space in the expanse; and they wanted to be collectively bigger than the sea that held them. They were catching the sun and throwing it on to me in disparate packets. Did they know I was emaciated? But surely, they didn't care.

Next instant, everyone was singing inside the car. It was no more enough to just listen. I don't know if the driver wanted to flout his master's(our host) high standing, but the CD player was speaking English. Nobody was aware the other was singing too... and I sang along "tell me why aint nothing but a mistake...". After a second, a didactic cousin said, "brother, isn't that a chutia song???" and i said "brother, I can even sing 'Hallelujah Stuti Mahima(a tawdry hymn hackneyed to levels transcending discomfort )'... I'm riding beside the sea".

That was how I woke up to Vizag. I yearned for the beach when they told me a month ago. I wanted to count days. During a 15 min supper-break, I stared into the mindless traffic on a broken road, thought of my boss, my stinking job and thanked God for giving me a "beach" to think about. That was before I quit. After I quit, the yearning died down and finally I was just a corpse appending a travelling group with emotionless responsibility. And when the sea presented itself, I woke up and saw this new city Vizag.

I like the city or may be I should say I liked what I saw. It was just 2 days, 3 beaches, 2 childish amusement spots, 1 ropeway, 2 hotels, 1 house, and 1 ride on some hills. The landscape was uneven; roads winded; lanes clean and deserted; apartments spread along sea coasts (and reportedly cost 15-20 lakhs); corporate buildings called for celebration; views from hilltops were comprehensive pictures(one was a postcard) -- ships, docks, factories, metal, green, water, houses, schools, army etc.; a hilltop village raised silly questions; a light house took pride in antiquity; fresh moss on damp walls did nothing and a cousin wanted to join the navy. And the whole thing gave a feel of immense vacancy... of room, waiting to be occupied... of things to be bought, built, initiated, celebrated. Or may be all this was only inside my head.

There was a certain lean lane; which the coconut trees never ceased to flank. The houses sprinkled here and there were hidden under possessive greenery; and were dark and sullen. There were a few more such places... places of contagious purity. Sometimes the clean-ness seeps into you, or hits you with a whack, or gushes through your fabric. It loosens your heart; something which hardens over the years, over each passing tribulation; making you unresponsive to sin, given or taken... and you carry home a wee empathy for brothers... May be that's what they meant by the absolving effect of the Ganges.

The sea was a little un-swimmable. Water a tad too salty and the retreating currents too strong. The waves left behind black soot (presumably industrial) on the sand. But nothing could take away from the feel of standing right under a wave hooded at double your height and lurching forward to take the smack; to lose yourself in a battalion of salty bubbles charging at you; to get swept off the feet and lose sense of direction with the sun being the only confused compass... all u can see.

The mountains were an other thing. Your neck hurts from twisting, but you wont take your eyes off them. Big, Mighty, Solemn, Perennial. Most importantly, they drown you in insidious nostalgia; as if they were your friends, and only yours and were long lost; and they convey a re-affirmation; seem to say "Yes, we are still here... you just got a bit hazy; don't mind the fools, we know it happens". And you take strength in their being Big; that they have been there for numberless years now, and will be; that they sit so lazily and they don't care; and ofcourse, that they are your friends. Natural bodies, the Mammoth ones, are amazing.

I guess I made the best of all that came along, but I realise, I need to still learn the art of visiting places; of being a traveller. After the initial impact, you are sucked into a miry fugue; a certain state from where you cant relate to the past that was till yesterday and also to the immediate surroundings, ie the new place. A traveller knows to hold on tight his life before the travel and to superimpose it against each silly thing and experience of his travel. Not to get carried away, but to contrast his 'yesterday' and 'today' and 'now'. And even if he does get carried away, still do it !

Also this was the second time I was pissed off with my company. Choose your company or expect scum. They constrict and choke you. Eventually, that place becomes a terrible waste of space... wasted forever, unable to find a place in your perception and memory. I said it to myself again --- Next time I go anywhere, I gotta go alone.