Crack ...

A crack on earth’s chest
gaping open,
allowing the hot fumes of fury
surge up.

Like puss oozing out from a wound,
raw, gawking,
flinging out rotten dejected memories
from a fatigued body.

A heart, slit
and an ugly visible gash;
a hope, torn
and the stench of dead dreams;
tossing away permanence
that keeps changing every second.

distance ...

Without me the sky is lonely.
I loved him
I nurtured him
with my glow.
I embraced him into my soul,
and clasped him onto my chest.
I kissed his eyebrow
and woke him at dawn,
I sang him a lullaby and
put him to sleep, easing his frown.
I pampered his every whim
with indulgence,
and held his tears in my palm
with reverence.
I wore his laughter on my psyche,
caressing his scowl with my warmth.
I draped his smile over me heart,
cuddling his anger
in the cocoon of my arms.
This moment of separation
is like a string of music snapping,
cutting us with its silken thread,
making us bleed.
Without me, my sky
is a still, placid lake,
with no ripple nor reflection.

Without me my sky is alone.
He weeps.
Without me my sky is lost.
He cries.

celestial attitude!

The following is no poetry but an ego trip on an attitude carriage. Meri Marzi ... have I asked anyone to read this? :P


I am Moon; I am a being high and mighty
I bear blemishes yet
people pledge on my beauty
I change, I transform, I die
Yet I rise and this world I defy
I remain a lover’s dream
And a poet’s sigh
A child’s fantasy and
A mystic’s cry.
You can feel on you my soothing beam
You can touch my softness in your dream
You can have me beside you when you are lonely
But your fascination of me gonna be your lover’s envy.
I can hypnotize and tranquilize you on a full moon night
I can make you long for me and heave a sorrowful sigh
But you can never reach me, I am unattainable
Just think of me from a-far and be tranquil.



I am nameless
I am just an essence.  

I am in the absence around you
I am the echoing silence that torments you
I am the heart of an angel's innocence
I am the soul of an artist's persistence
I am the rhythm of a dancer’s swirl
I am the melody of a singer’s choir
I sail along the traveling waves in frenzy
I fly with the passionate breeze being crazy

Every night I sleep to dream a dream
And wake up to another day of being supreme!

Seeking Sleep ....

I lie awake
counting the silence
that keeps dripping
in bits and pieces,
caressing the crumpled
creases of the covering,
waiting ...
longing ...
for sleep.
I touch the hours
with my finger tips
as they pass by,
following the patterns
of some moist memory
that falls like a monotonous
monsoon rain.
I lie awake
searching for sleep.
I seek sleep
for him to embrace my soul,
I beg the velvet darkness
to take me in his lap,
I plead the night stars
to enshrine my eyes and
intoxicate or haze my sight.
As the dusk reconciles
like a gloom over a forlorn cityscape
and grief settles on my soul,
I begin to rummage
for sleep all over again,
like every other night.
And then the silence whispers
into my ears,
saying the search is in vain.
It is pointless to wait
as I would have to walk alone.
There would only be
a few footprints
of nostalgia to accompany.


If only I had those arms to rest in ….
If only I had that chest to lean on!

Predicament ...

Doesn’t matter how much I try
a life would always remain a life,
full of weeping and sobbing
with the bumps
of trials and tribulations!
And you can’t even complaint, for
they would say – that’s what life is, fight!
My limbs ache, my head throb,
my knees bend, my eyes blur.
Yet they command me to hold on.
I try; with new shades and fragrance.
But
there is always a
a screaming sun,
a withered tree,
a forlorn kite,
a barren sky
and a mirthless never-ending space,
along with all the
‘why’, ‘where to’, ‘for whom’.
The day rushes
wrapped in dins and bustle,
hoot and rattle,
fatigued and frazzled.
Then night comes
to rake over
all the wounds
and sores of the day.
I am tired.
I want to rest.
But I can’t even go away,
for they will call me an escapist!

Relationships ...

Sometimes,
in the night
you kindle a sun ray
with blazing bright hue
and by morning
there will be insipid, grey ashes
strewn and scattered all around.

At times, you will weave
a patchwork cloth
hemming pieces
myriad and intense.
You will Join lose ends,
smoothing rough edges
wrapping weft, tying broken threads.
Yet forlornly the knot and the loop
would keep jutting out.

Every so often, you wonder,
whom do you call your soul mate?
Someone who is
holding your hand
sharing your joy and sorrow
or the one who keeps drizzling
in your memory incessantly,
effortlessly with a humming sound
like a continuous falling rain?

Now and then, you will continue
because it is an easy pattern,
a habit, to keep trying
to draw lines and
urging them to meet
either in a circle or in a square;
yet they will keep running
parallel with certain moments
that would be stuck
in your throat like a fish bone
or would be a thorn wedged
below your finger nail
smooth from outside but
hurting each time
brushed against.

Occasionally, you will
nourish and nurture
a green plant
in your garden.
One fine morning
you decide to cut it;
for it will not bear flowers or fruits,
it will not grow into a tree.
Yet you get surprised
while cutting,
for its roots have spread
all over and all around!

At times, it will be like
a favorite painting
on your wall
ever bright and ever prominent.
So much so that after a while
when you would wish to remove it,
a square-like impression
on the wall will remain
undying, like an
unchanging nimbus.

Desire ...

I have a desire
to fly a kite
up above the dense cloud,
running in frenzy along with,
yelling and screaming in joy;
my hair flying in hysteria,
cutting the mountain breeze
in an untamed frenzy.

I have a desire
to be a rhythm
and stream along a river,
still thirsty and searching
for a destination;
yet flowing in a whirling passion,
traveling every nook and corner,
carrying a few sticks, a drop of tear
and some sighs.

I have a desire
to float a boat
in the torrent of my tears,
making it bounce in passion.
My boat will break the sand dunes,
carry a lump of earth in it,
like those merciless memories,
yet surge with the same gusto
like a pealing echoing laughter.

In these desires I see another sky
lurking behind this one.
In these desires I see another Sun
waiting with open arms.
In these desires I see myself.

Dreams ..

Dreams die very easily.
No one knows where they go after they die!
Later, you won’t even have
an epitaph or a sepulcher
to put a flower in front or cry beside!

Silence, please echo softly.
Your resonance shouldn’t be shrill.
My dreams are fragile and flimsy.
They may die if the noise collide!

Thought, please come alone.
If you bring a mob, you may smother.
My dreams are fragile and flimsy.
They may die if breath is denied!

Day, please love and kiss tenderly.
do not scorch, you will cause blister.
My dreams are fragile and flimsy.
They may die when they burn inside!

Sleep, please tread gently.
Your footfalls shouldn’t be harsh.
My dreams are fragile and flimsy.
They may die if they wake up or subside!

MOON ....

Tonight again the Moon is pale and yellow,
tonight again the Moon is opaque green,
tonight again her hands are crying hollow,
tonight again her voice is moist and thin,
tonight again her blemishes are bright and purple,
tonight again her forehead is full of fret,
tonight again she is burnt in the scary dark,
tonight again she is lost in the whirlwind.
Tonight again she is at a cross road
from where the road goes every way!
Tonight again she falls on the garden
trying to hide the screaming Sun-ray.

Tonight again the Moon will have to stay awake.
Tonight again she will have to wait!

Velvete touch ...

It is 6 am now and I have been waiting for last one hour in front of my open window yet morning hasn't come. It is drizzling and there is a strange gloomy darkness all around. I know how the sun rays have tried to pierce the thick dense black cloud but fail, almost like my dreams; an aborted and discarded effort. I desperately try to shake off this feeling but the rain has fetched a strange subtle stench of betrayal and it is persisting. I also hear sounds. A weird humming resonance of the falling rain and it is peculiarly getting mixed with a jingling shattering sound of glass breaking; as if my hopes and my dreams are cracking and the splinters have fallen on the ground. Broken glasses have always reminded me of broken relationships. The more you try to collect and arrange the fragments the more you bleed and hurt yourself.

I am smiling now. For, I know that today it would be the day of my poetry. Those verses will keep drifting in my breath, run in my blood and get stuck in my throat like a fish bone and I would neither be able to swallow or throw it out. But I am thankful to them. All those verses with green sparkling eyes and a promising smile, sometimes blinding me with their glitter like a flash of sun on a silver mirror, and at times like a soothing shine of rainwater on banana leaves, will save me always. They don’t allow me to shed tears incoherently or laugh too much as before. They drive away depression that used to shroud me in the past so easily, sticking to my psyche like a bubble gum. Now my poetry helps me live. They have made me human. They help me breathe. I am not alone anymore, till I merge.

A piece of my poem helps me breathe.
It floats in my blood the whole day;
It hovers in my thoughts
It hangs from my eyelash
It hides in my smile
It cuts me, bruises me, injures me at times
It loves me, kisses me, spoils me at times
A piece of my poem kindles me live.
A piece of my poem helps me breathe.

Paint me in color ...

Painter, would you paint me
today in all my natural hue?
Would you paint me as I am,
with my imperfections and blemishes true?
Load your brush with colors sundry
and make that first pure sweep
across the virgin canvas, hungry.
Paint me as I stand
with my love and my desire,
blurring the edges
with my regrets and my mental gyre,
in a youthful innocent deep forest green
streaked with a brittle brown of time passing.
Paint me in sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg and the indigo moon.
Paint me as I stand
a woman in her plight
paint me as I stand
a woman in all her might.
Paint me in the optimistic silver of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise of the bygone.
paint me in sky blue
O Painter! but add a dash of yellow too.


Paint me in a new template
merging all the colors of your palette.
Smudge black white and grey
Make me a rainbow in a rainy day.
Paint me tall so that I stand loftier than a mountain
paint me as a little bird with soft feathers silken.
Paint me as a violin so that I can sing your solitary tune
paint me as a poem with song and melody in a cocoon.
paint me as a dream that rises with a steady upbeat flight
tint me as a fluttering of a beautiful butterfly.
Portray me as courage and endurance in color so bold and bright
do not hesitate to depict my mind in profound fuchsia and white.
When you would paint my loss and my sorrow
use the color that you would borrow,
for your palette may seem empty
in search of a shade so bloody.
When you will adorn my heart and my love
remember to use the color
of the cloud and the rain above;
yet you may use any shade of your fancy
but do not forget to have the crack within
in a tinge of xanthene.
My passion and my spirit
will have a crimson red hint
my remorse and my regret
will reflect an ink blue print.

paint me as I am O painter!
Paint me as I.

Faces ...

I have faces many more,
many diverse faces
veiled in mine.
I am one in many
yet many in one entwine.


I walk with my head held high,
I laugh aloud at the inky-blue sky.


I toil and effort with eyes cold and fiery,
lips complex withdrawn yet strangely flowery.


Sometimes the days would be hurried, hassled and faded,
still I will brave all struggles with passion wild and naked.


I dance and sing in ecstasy and mirth plenty,
at a falling rain, a bird’s tweet or at nature’s bounty.


I transact, bargain, co operate and compromise,
I haggle and quibble yet  flutter like a butterfly.


I stand taller on my toes, tear apart the Sun and peep within,
I love like a passionate storm, like a soft dew drop, every combat I win.


Yet alone in the solitude of the night I cry,
hiding my face among so many sobs and sighs.


I have faces many more,
many diverse faces
veiled in mine.
I am one in many
yet many in one entwine.

understanding ..

If love is your life then 'understanding' is the oxygen to live your life .......

The day yawns and stretches impatiently
in its await to connect with the night.
Her hidden passion and anxious trepidation
pulsating bright through the sun rays,
dancing from side to side
among the green leaves.
Soon she would be losing herself drop by drop
in her much coveted union.
Will she lose her identity?
Will she mislay her own shadow?
Is it her collapse or meeting an end?
Then the steel dome of the night sky
turns leisurely to embrace her
to make her his own,
rocking her in a velvet darkness.
She perceives fruition,
a new beginning, a never-ending.
And in this passionate twilight
a moment was born torn from time;
a moment of understanding
beyond words, beyond faces,
greater than love.

I love to talk - 8

Sonata of soul:

You had a beautiful soul, fresh and pious when you were born to this Earth. Years of experiences left several blotches like a collage imprint on your mind yet your soul has remained intact unscathed and you are amazed to find out that the day it is freed from your body it is still the same innocent pious soul that you were born with, ready to take shelter in heavenly abode, near God.

So why can’t you give your soul the same divine dwelling even while on Earth? Now, wouldn’t you want to give your soul a body without blemishes, without scratches, just as beautiful as the soul itself? Wouldn’t you want your soul to dress in a body that is like a fresh dew drop of a virgin dawn? Shouldn’t you strengthen it against the scorching Sun or the winter frost bite? Shouldn’t you like to protect it from the deadly chemicals and other hazards of civilization?

So here are a few tips (self practiced) to make the temple of your soul sparkling and sanctimonious; a stride towards confidence and healthy living: (I do not have copy right for the following)

Morning exercise : SURYA NAMASKAR (copied from a website and you can even check out you tube for demonstrations)

Step 1: (prayer pose)- Stand erect with your chest out, feet together, knees pulled up and thighs tight. Bring your hands forward, in front of your chest as if in prayer, elbows straight and not drooping.

Step 2: (raised arms pose)- On inhale, stretch your arms up over your head, palms still together. Then arching back as far as you can go, stretch with your arms apart for next pose.

Step 3: (standing forward bend pose)- While exhaling, swing down from the hips keeping your upper body and torso straight. Without bending the knees place your hands on either sides of your feet flat on the mat, head as close to your knees as possible.

Step 4: (equestrian pose)- Inhale bring the right foot to the back of the mat on the toes like a lunge. Use your finger tips for support and keep the left leg at a right angle and then start bending the extended leg at the knee towards the floor and look up.

Step 5: (plank pose) - Retain your breath and extend your left leg back on your toes side by side your right without moving the position of your hands and leg at all. Palms flat on the mat, keep your spine straight and elbows locked. Do not let your head or hips drop. It should look like you are about to do a push up.

Step 6: (Salute with 8 limbs pose)- Exhale, bending your elbows towards your body and going down as low as you can at the shoulders while keeping the rest of your body perfectly stiff exactly like a push up. Once down near the floor, bend and drop your knees, chest and forehead to the ground lightly touching in that order. Your hips and pelvic should still be raised. Eight points should be touching the floor in this step- forehead, chest, and two palms, both knees and both feet.

Step 7: (cobra pose)- Inhale, while swinging your body forwards, straightening your arms, stretching your shoulders upwards and lowering your hips down to the ground. Lift your chest upward and arch your back and look up towards the ceiling.

Step 8:(downward facing dog pose)- Exhale and without moving your hands and feet, tuck your toes and raise your hips and backside up. Elongate the spine and straighten the knees, spreading the fingers evenly push down from your forearms and try to put your heels down to the ground pushing back the thighs. Let your head hang and try lowering your shoulder blades to broaden the collarbone.

Step 9: (equestrian pose) - Lunge forward while inhaling and bring your right leg in between your hands repeating the position in Step: 4

Step 10: (standing forward bend pose)- On exhale, bring the left foot forward next to the right and forward bend into (Step:3).

Step 11:(raised arms pose)- Straighten the back and raise your arms above your head, palms joined and repeat Step:2

Step 12: (prayer pose)- Lower your hands in down to your chest as in Step:1.


................................................................................................................................................................................

Some healthy food to pamper your taste bud: Salads ((Copied from net, try out several different kinds available as per your taste)

1. Salad recipe

Ingredients:

· 0.5 lb boneless chicken cut into small slices.

· 1/2 cup red cabbage, thinly sliced

· 1 medium sized red onion, chopped

· 1/2 cup carrot, peeled & grated

· 1/4 cup green bell pepper, thinly sliced

· 1/4 cup red bell pepper, thinly sliced

· 1/2 cup lettuce, chopped

· 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

· 1 1/2 tbsp roasted peanuts, crushed

· 1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds

· 1 tbsp roasted almond flakes

· Salt & black pepper as per taste

· Canola oil / sesame oil / peanut oil

Dressing:

· 2 tbsp soy sauce

· 2 tbsp olive oil / canola oil / sesame oil

· 1 tbsp minced garlic

· 2 tbsp rice vinegar

· 1 tsp sugar

· 1 tsp fresh grated ginger

· 1 tsp crushed red chili pepper

Method:
First step is to cook chicken. Heat a nonstick skillet over medium heat and spoon in 2 tbsp oil. When oil is hot, add chicken slices. Sprinkle some salt and black pepper on the chicken and mix it well. Then add little amount of water and cover the pan. After two minutes, stir the chicken and cover it again. cook the chicken thoroughly by stirring it often. once chicken is cooked, drain it and keep aside. Cooking chicken will take approx. 5-8 minutes.

Take a large salad bowl and drop vinegar into it. Add garlic and ginger to the vinegar and keep it for 5-10 minutes. Add rest of the dressing ingredients into vinegar and whisk together. Now add the chicken and all other salad ingredients to the dressing and mix them well.

2. Chicken Salad Recipe

Ingredients :

1/2 cup lettuce leaves

1/4 kg Chicken (boneless and cooked)

1/2 tsp garlic powder or fresh crushed garlic

3 tsp onion (grated)

1/2 tsp pepper powder

Salt to taste

Method :

Mix garlic powder, grated onions, pepper and salt for dressing. Blend lettuce leaves and make a fine paste. Place chicken pieces on a flat dish and pour blended lettuce leaves over it. Now sprinkle the dressing over it. You can add chilly sauce to it for better taste.

3. Breakfast salad

Ingredients

150g Baby Leaf Spinach

1 Medium Egg

2 Medium Tomatoes

2 Slices Extra Lean Ham

Method

1. Rinse spinach and leave to drain.
2. Turn on grill.
3. Bring pan of water to boil and poach egg.
4. Slice tomatoes in half and place under grill.
5. While egg and tomatoes are cooking, slice ham to your preference.
6. Arrange spinach leaves on plate, and sprinkle chopped ham on top.
7. Place cooked egg and tomatoes on bed of spinach and enjoy!

.......................................................................................................................................

Now Its all about giving a breathing spa to your skin. Homemade Orange peel scrub

Ingredients:
1 cup dried orange peels
2 tbsp dry roasted blackgram dal/urad dal/minappapu
1 tbsp dry roasted red gram dal/toor dal/kandi pappu
2 tsp semolina/rava
1 dried rose petals
1 tbps sandal powder/chandan powder

Method:
Make the powder of dried citrus peels until smooth (but little coarse) in advance. Mix all the above ingredients and grind till it attains coarse powder texture. Store it in an air-tight container and ready to use.

Usage:
When you want to ex-foliate your skin, mix above scrub with warm milk, honey and a hint of rose-water to make a coarse paste. Before a bath, rub this all over. Use rough circular motions as you go along to ex-foliate the dead skin cells.

For face take the same mixture and dilute with few drops of warm water. Gently scrub in circular motion and rinse with warm water. It's a wonderful scrub and so easy to make and the effects are immediately visible. For dry skin use full cream or homemade butter instead of milk.

SEASONS' GREETINGS TO YOU ALL :-)

shades of love ...

When I think of you
my words begin to travel the
warm alley and
the embryo of thoughts are formed;
my poetry begins to grow
in the womb and becomes life.
nouns, verbs, metaphors and
alliterations start kicking against the wall,
the weight increases and
my verse for you take birth.
My humorous haiku, passionate pastoral,
my sensuous sonnet, beautiful ballad
and my obedient ode
mingle and merge
with your cry and your laughter.

Will I be able to shield you, my love
from the putrid scent and rancid sweat of humanity?
Behind that deep love in your searching eyes
and that crack of a glittering smile,
I have witnessed the emptiness,
the vast void and the chill;
a lonely being struggling to sketch
a perfect circle he fancies.
An agonizing strange pain wells up from my naval,
an uncanny urge to nurture and guide you
not to buckle and bend,
to kick and thrive
and to stay.
Come my love, I will take you to a fresh rain
and an innocent drizzle once more,
washing away the silhouettes of your past
keeping you away from mankind’s dreg and drudgery.
You have been caught and baffled in an
unnamed cough, a paranoid, a palsy,
an anonymous wheezing
and a vague panting.
Let me now open the window of innocence for you
and let a fresh fragrant dawn in
with all its mellifluous morning glory and dew.
Let me keep you foetus-coiled
and secured in my heart just one more time,
wrapped in the warmth of amniotic fluid of my soul,
tied to my essence with an invisible umbilical cord,
feeling your pulsating vein
as the light heartbeat against my womb.
Earlier I let you be
in this world
to survive and stand
on top of mountains, to surmount the seas,
search the plains and climb the trees.
But now, again at the end of the dusk
when you are tired and seeking love
I would take you within
the warmth of my being
and protect you
from the top of your head
to the tip of your toe, with love and feeling.

Come love .. there are many miles to cross now
many sunsets to observe.
I will be your vast sky
and you be a bird and fly above and high,
for you, I would be a serene river
where you can float your hopes and dreams.
Life is too filled and
we will wish upon the falling star tonight
to sing life fully
in its symphony, in its theme.

Missing you ...

I miss
those lazy legs
entwined ...
I miss
those cozy fingers
confined ...
I miss
the mint-leaves feel of hair
disheveled ...
I miss
the rose petal scent on pillows
entangled ...
I miss
that arm over my chest
carelessly lying ...
I miss
the shimmering skin
sweating and beaming ...
I miss
that lazy slumber
and those drunken smiling eyes ...
I miss
those pulsating heartbeats
heaving against my sighs ...

I miss
that promising sunrise
and the beckoning sunset,
patchwork of memories in golden hue,
fights and quarrels in envelope, a few,
trinkets of laughter,
a basket full of whispers,
some sweet nothings in a small pouch,
a few yawning afternoons on the couch,
the evening coffee cups
and a stroll together,
a small dimple and
a black mole to entice forever ...

I miss
them all ... and life ...
A time that has hastened by!

I love to talk - 7

tender travelogue

Last monsoon we went to a hill station named WAYANAD situated in Kerala, God's own land. The hill station of Wayanad in the north of Kerala is breathtakingly beautiful without being at all overrun by tourists. The winding road up the Southern Ghats to Wayanad is particularly remarkable with its astounding views all the way to the sea over the Deccan Plateau. It is as if God was relaxing with a canvas and a painting palette and was very happy. He kept on stroking the canvas with an extravaganza of green and blue pouring out all his divine imagination and the result was Wayanad!

Wayanad’s altitudes of 750-2100m are covered with spice plantations, paddy fields and moss green forests. It is mainly populated by tribal people whose originality and simplicity can be felt prominent. Wayanad’s plantations are reputed to produce the best pepper in the world. The magnificent landscape of the place offers ample opportunities for forgetting yourself and all your worries. The waterfalls are as if a direct descent from the heights of heaven.

We started from Mysore around 7 am in the morning and with a few tea and coffee breaks in between, reached Wayanad around 2pm. The tall bamboo and saal trees formed a natural tunnel on the highway and the journey by car was stunningly spectacular. By the time we reached our destination the surrounding was enveloped in a mysterious mist. This was a pleasant surprise. The entire landscape looked heavenly. From a distance the occasional trumpeting of an elephant was being heard, giving us a real raw jungle thrill. All in all, I realized it was indeed God’s Own Country.

The place we stayed at is Misty Heights and it was a real Home-stay. Misty Heights is located just west of Vythiri in tea country. The property is situated beside a small brook in the mountains cultivated in tea, coffee and arecanuts. As the website proclaims, it is really "A Natural Paradise, away in the lap of nature. A totally dedicated eco-homestay built on a hilly area with all basic facilities..You can view the surrounding hills and valleys covered with Ever Green Tropical Rain Forests in different hues of green ...."

The quiet calm rustic life of Vythiri, the cool oxygen fresh, mint-scented mountain air, the lush green landscape, the birds' twitter and the tranquility of the place easily transported me in a state where all the usual mundane worries seemed really trivial and meaningless.

The host couple at Misty Heights was welcoming and warm. You might not get room service at your beck and call but the moment you would go downstairs you were received with a warm smile and your need for food and otherwise, would be taken care of lovingly. Breakfast was with warm cuppa tea or coffee and soft hot Kerala appam which was so very tasty that you gonna crave for it even later at home. You could have fresh vegetables and hot chicken curry for lunch or dinner, all from their own fresh garden and farm. The adjacent brook was an attraction in itself and sitting beside it you could spot huge fish all around as they would create a lot of bubbles if some fish food was being thrown and the owner with his pleasant smile would inform you that the fish you had for lunch was from this stream. For my son the utmost attraction of this home-stay was the beautiful birds and the ducks and chickens quacking and chirping all over the courtyard and the huge Labrador with its two one-month old puppies, a Dalmatian and Labrador hybrid.

Night would be a quiet affair as a pitch inky darkness would engulf everything and all you would be left with is the sound of rainfall nonstop yet sonorous, the whispers of drizzle on the quiet leaves, the cricket call and a strange suppressed humming noise that only jungle can produce. But if you are a loner like me you would instantly fall in love with nature's own ethereal sound.

On the whole Wayanad with its aroma of spices and verdant mountains sharply outlined against a clear blue sky, often shrouded in an atmospheric low mist would be a stay worth a life time.