The Mount.

The vivid images of our visit to Kerala were still so crisp in memory. I found myself reminiscing as I lazily made my way to college. My cell phone screen lit up as I got a text message notifying me that classes stood cancelled as a result of the recent down-pour. And just then, when I was about to make my way back home, Nanda cajoled me into meeting up at college.

We both sat at Ragavender's room, enjoying a movie. Suhail got a phone call from his girl and so he decided to part with us (Good riddance!).

Movies weren't really doing justice to the marvelous climate that loomed overhead, so we decided to take a walk. We had a little snack at the canteen and then bought the Record-Notebooks that Ragavendar needed (It was already the end of semester). As we strode back, Ragavendar exclaimed 'Semma climate da! Trekking pona super ah irkum'. He has always been the one to come up with such fascinating ideas. We readily agreed. We were on our way to St. Thomas mount.

We bought our train tickets and the travelling turned out to be a total bliss. The cool breeze buffing against our faces had our legs afloat. We disembarked and had to cover some ground before we could reach the hills. I wouldn't say the stroll was pleasant in anyway, but Ragavendar ought to have had a wonderful time, after all, walking is second nature to him, he could walk as easy as he could breathe, he could walk all day without shedding so much as a drop of sweat. 

St Thomas mount happens to be a hill that stands overlooking my primary school. As I strolled through the streets with the well acquainted buildings on either side, I was hit by a nostalgic vibe, I felt like a child again. Ragavendar, who was guiding us to our destination up until then, seemingly ran out of directions. But I knew that place like the back of my hand. We had no troubles reaching the hill. Though I couldn't help noticing how everything around me had shrunk since the last time I laid eyes upon them. Maybe it was just me who grew bigger.

Climbing the footpath to the hill-top was no easy task (except for Ragavendar of course). We were dowsed in sweat by the time we made it. But it was all worth it. The view from the top was nothing less than spectacular. We moved to a spot where we could let the winds invade every nook and cranny of ours. We took a couple of pictures of ourselves (maybe a few more!) and then went on to rest our butts on a grassy slope which held a Runway in sight. We had already had a fair share of seeing Air-crafts take off and land, so we didn't really give them much notice. We hardly carried any money, so buying anything whatsoever was a clear red sign. We had no need for it any-ways, we already felt as if we had all the luxury in the world. Ragavendar handed me his Record-notebooks and asked me to put a cross on it (If you don't already know what it is, you will shortly). If he were to get the records signed this late in the semester, he obviously needed a lot of blessings, and what better place is there to seek it, than in a church? 

Then came this time when Nanda asked Ragavendar to take a picture of him as he ran, but Ragavendar was so horrible with a camera that the picture he snapped caught Nanda in the most awkward of all positions. It was a good laugh, but Ragavendar continued to torment us with his photography skills. There was only so much we could tolerate. We finally made a decision to never opt him to be the one behind the camera, ever, unless of course, we were left with no other choice. We spent a couple of hours idling away in peace and then it was time to leave. 

Walking down hill was a real pain as well. Gravity was no friend of ours. But Nanda came up with an idea that we later called 'The breaking system'. We arched our spine backwards as we walked down the slope. This way we got the leverage required to keep us from speeding out of control. The only down-side of this technique is that it made us look like pregnant women. Oh well..!

The train ride back was a breeze as well. It was over-all a perfect day.