Standing Still.
If I stand still, two brahminys eagles will sail overhead, talons out to attack each other. The white heads screech out and swoop down over the clear green water.
If I stand still, as the river bends, the golden glow of the setting sun will crawl over the water to reach me. But before it’s piercing rays start their work an idle cloud blows in it’s way & sends crimson across the sky.
If I stand still the sea wind blowing the cloud, dissipates the heat of 12 kms of kayaking up river. Palm trees rustle in the wind and sway shadows in the water.
I am kayaking in the Chaliyar river in Kerala & everything here is crimson, green, blue & yellow. As I explore Kerala, the way I know best, I ponder on my love for things swift. Racing, with the wind in your face, is my rush. Still & I aren’t found in the same pincode. And yet, Kerala has brought that out in me. Locals call you over to their boat, or the riverside to simply chat with you. The language barrier melts as I explain the speed of my kayak to a fisherman in his colourful boat.
Another 3 kms on, a father & son are standing still in the middle of the river. The young one translates for us when his father enquires about the price of my kayak. He seems unfazed by the cost, but the fact that you can only fit one person in it puts him off the purchase. After a fair back-and-forth, he reaches into a plastic bag and holds up a green back crab. His son smiles. Dinner.
A bridge emerges & brings me back to civilisation. I hasten to avoid it, but as I draw close, it dawns on me. I stand still to reflect on the realisation that I am invisible to civilsation. Up on the bridge, in buses packed to the brim, or in the silver Audi working it’s air conditioning over time, one lone kayaker 30 feet below in a meandering quiet river is so insignificant, that it’s both heartening and sad. A well spent moment taking it in.
I realise soon that it’s a busy river. I meet children jumping off of rock cliffs. I spot elders smoking on the side of a river, fishing lines out, underneath a billboard ushering in new-age products these people never asked for. Everything is in juxtaposition here. I turn around and head back, picking up the pace. I’m cruising when I spot a youth nestled in shrubbery, his house hidden from clear view. I smile thinking, atleast the young ones are the same; busy texting a girl far from the prying eyes of a conservative family. Before the smile reaches it’s edges, he looks up, and with one swift motion flings out the bait he’s been meticulously rigging on the end of a thing fishing line.
It is evening in Kerala. And I am standing still.