Everyone's busy worrying about the economic crisis - to the extent that i've rarely heard a cracker burst, today being Diwali. For the past two days, it's been a quiet time out here at home in Cochin - no television, no radio and no newspaper. It's as if I were in a different world altogether.
Kerala has always seemed different. As I rounded the bend that leads to the Kerala border outside Coimbatore, the sight in front of me took my breath away. The road slopes down to the bridge that splits Tamil Nadu from Kerala. A small sleepy lake lies still on the left. Ahead, lies the massive wall of the Western Ghats. Storm clouds are forming above. A table cloth obscures the top of the nearest hill. The only sore spot in this serene landscape towers above the thick greenery of the forest - the monstrous chimneys of a cement factory, that billows white smoke.
As you cross the bridge, a huge hoarding catches your attention: "Public Works Department of Kerala welcomes you" - it is an apt sign, for after the smooth roads that lead out of Coimbatore, the moment you cross over to Walayar, the roads are full of gigantic potholes - a fine welcome carpet from the PWD.
The Walayar Checkpost is usually a bustle of activity. You can barely squeeze through the maze of trucks standing here. But today, it was strangely empty. I was the only person on the road, making me wonder whether i had entered the state on the wrong day - what if there was a hartal today?
Strangely, it was never raining in Tamil Nadu, but the moment i entered Kerala, i knew that it was going to pour down. And soon, it did! It has not stopped raining ever since.
