Every trip to Kerala is like a visit to a critically-ailing friend. It leaves me feeling sad and helpless.
I flee from the city to my hometown in search of a connect with life. But i don't seem to find it anymore. Garbage mounds, increasing number of concrete buildings, commercialization, changing cultural ethos, and other disturbing changes make me uncomfortable. I no longer get to see the flora i associated with my village visits. Barren plots & dream homes have usurped the position of trees & paddy fields. Palatial houses and grotesque commercial complexes dot the landscape; there was a time when gigantic trees and bamboo groves were ubiquitous. The poverty of the land and people's mind is embarrassing as well as infuriating.
When you witness 'a thing of beauty' gradually fading away, you are privy to the cruelty of time and disagree with Keats that it is 'a joy for ever'. Like Keats i could live in the past and revel in the beauty that existed or be realistic and rue over the ugliness I see.
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