HAPPY HOURS

A trip to home town can knock down the barricades that block your memories. I experienced a similar feeling nearly a month ago when I visited my ancestral town, the beautiful Palakkad (Palghat for some) in Northern Kerala.

It's one of the areas where you can witness the pristine beauty of Kerala (see some of the pictures my dear VK Gopakumar mailed me), and some lovely people. I had reached Cochin, my parents live in that City now, after a nearly 10-hour drive from Bangalore with my wife, and after spending two days there we left for Palakkad. The journey till Palakkad, though, presented not many pleasant monents thanks to narrow roads and KSRTC (Kerala State Road Transport Corporation) buses that behaved more like drunken monkeys on the road.

However, once we reached there it was a trip back to the olden days. The change has gripped Palakkad like a glacier, gradual yet inexorable, but thankfully not like a flash flood that alter everything in a jiffy. Hopefully, it will remain the same.

The sight of my ancestral home was exciting and a clear river of memories began to flow in my brain once I stepped onto the rosewood-laden veranda. For a moment, I heard the sounds of my beloved grandpa, who passed away nearly two decades ago, calling me with a lot of affection from the far corner. Once wriggled out of the halucinatory moments, it was time to exchange plesantries to the relatives and of course, for a yummy lunch. The taste of lunch was doubled courtesy two pegs of Royal Salute given by Jai (my cousin brother). Thanks a ton buddy.

After good two hours of sleep, I decided to catch up with some old pals who made my childhood days memorable. Five of us (Jayan, Jagadeesh, Srijith Ambi and yours truly) met near the Kota grounds, reflecting on the days when we played there with not a care for the world and nourished some big ambitions. Those Kota days and evening tryst with cricket have helped me to develop love for that game in me, though never I thought of becoming a journalist then.

Jayos now runs his travel agency -- a far shot from his dream of becoming an MBA graduate and work in a MNC.

Jags owns two car show rooms in Palakkad and Thrissur, and he wanted to enter Civil Services!!!

Sri is now a film and serial producer, and his dream was to join police. No wonder he insists that most of the heroes in his movies and serials should be cops.

Ambi is in Gulf (Swamy was on leave) working as a CA, and never for once he had expressed any ambitions for future during our Kota days.

None of them still believe that I write on cricket and get a reasonable amount every month in my account. In fact, Swamy even asked to show him my pass book.

Sadly, the session lasted just two hours, as I had to make my way back to Cochin. But those two hours gave me immense joy, and that soothing feeling that there are people who care for me -- always.