ELEPHANT AND VARKLE

Today was an auspicious day and shocked me out of my Varkalan Funk. Its been a wierd few days being stuck here in solitary confinement with yoga-on-the beach, dread-locked Westerners in an identi-kit beach resort which could be in Greece or Turkey for all its lack of character. Being so sunburnt that you couldn't go out for most of the day didn't help either. And being all alone in such an environment wasn't great either. As you may have sensed, I have been feeling very out of touch with myself, mentally back in Europe will physically, nominally at least, still in India, although not really India at all. Had all that has gone before really happened? Who knows.

Trying to read books didn't help. I had a go at a series of short stories by Nobel-winner Rabindranath Tagore, the 20th Century giant of Indian literature which really put the country on the map. I had read some of his poetry, which is utterly wonderful, but this selection of short stories was like opting to be persuaded about the efficacies of voluntary euthanasia. Entitled SHE, they were about the plight of women in India in the late 19th-early 20th Century. After the fourth story in which some poor woman ended up dead thanks to feckless or unpleasant men/in-laws I realised the selection made Thomas Hardy look like Captain Upbeat or Mr Blobby on helium. About to start the next story I thought 'Will there be any point in sympathising with the heroine? Will she die?' and lo and behold, she did. Not great, really.

I then tried R K Narayan's retelling of the Mahabarata but when it turned out to be a kind of Readers Digest version I left that too. Ah well.

But as I say, everything changed today. Yesterday, in an effort to get some money put on my mobile so I could book my next hotels, I had bumped into a Nordic-sounding gentleman who had been trying to find the local Temple for a little spiritual nourishment. I asked him if he had found the Temple and he told me he had, that it was wonderful, and that another festival event was happening nearby soon. I searched for the Temple myself and got lost, so opted to just sort out my mobile. As I was wandering on the sea-front a little later a man appeared and shoved a leaflet in my hand about an Elephant Festival going on the next day. For the price of only three pounds the local tour group was bussing people out there. I decided to give it a try. Serendipity and all that...

And thank God I did because it was amazing and reconnected me to why I was here - India. I realised that the thing that was making me miserable was suddenly being cut off from the adrenalin and energy of India, which had been pulsing through me up until now.

I got into a cramped, boiling bus with a load of other trippers, largely from Finland this time, with one guy who looked like a sweating Jose Ferrar (perhaps he was Jose Ferrar? Who knows? Or is Jose dead? Shouldn't be an obstacle in India) and we chuntered through more Keralan villages until we arrived at this little town nearby. A guide walked us up the street and down some alleys and then told me and two others (God knows what had happened to everyone else!) that we would regroup at 7.30 by the bus before disappearing himself into the crowd. The town didn't look promising and having got out of the habit of India I clutched my bag and mobile phone to my breast (idiotic I know but that's the effect of scary stories we all get told about crowds out here!). I needn't have worried because, as ever, the Indians, or the Keralans, were wonderful.

As I looked up, the whole area was milling with people, families with their kids, street sellers etc. A large blue Temple was in the middle with strange, plaster Gods all around it with people perambulating its grounds. Next to it was a small shrine with women outside it playing musical instruments in honour of two Lingams (phallic symbols, basically) within it. And flanking everyone was an array of elephants with white-garbed riders and golden-headdresses waiting for the ceremony.

We were all stood behind barriers as groups of drummers began to strike up the ritual sound. It was rather like STOMP, with the most astonishing energy and rythmn to the drumming. It was so intense that you could feel your heart and ribs vibrating to the sound. Someone let me through the barrier and I was able to wander around, taking pictures and drink it all in. The aromatic stench of elephant poo filled the air. All around me the beasts themselves were flapping their ears to keep themselves cool. It was good to know that even elephants get hot out here sometimes! Reassuring as I stood there doused in sweat looking pink and overheated.

The drumming in my area stopped and gave way to even more intense drumming by the three main elephants, each of which had two or three drivers carrying elaborate fans that they did choreogpraphy with as the day wore on. The drummers danced, sang, chanted, played cymbals and sweated with the intensity. They were dressed in traditional clothes and one wondered how old the ceremony was. They were amazing to behold. One also wondered what they did when they weren't drumming. Builders? Postmen? Plumbers perhaps? But at this moment they were something special, drummers for the elephant God.

After about an hour the drumming stopped and the procession began. The elephants filed off with the drummers before them. It was marvellous to behold and reminded me of country events I had attended in Suffolk and such places. The atmosphere was incredibly friendly and warm. Once the procession had circled the area once or twice and set off into the street the festival seemed to suddenly empty. I wandered around a bit, drinking in the vibe and then started to make my way back to the bus as best I could.

Then auspicious things started to happen. I had damaged my watch earlier in the day in the pool (I should have guessed that the word 'Water Resistant' actually meant 'NOT Water Resistant) and had been fretting about how I was going to get another one when I saw a stall selling them for 100 Rs (that's about 1 pound thirty). This may sound petty but it had the effect on me of making me feel things that had been broken were being put right. THe warmth I experienced all around me made me very happy. Children smiled and waved, a man appeared out of the melee to shake my hand, a father tried to get his son to say hello and do the same (he was too shy to do so!), a group of children on a fence all called me over for a wave as I walked by. Everywhere you felt that same egalitarian spirit I have mentioned before on these boards. I have spoken about the Caste system in Karnataka. Well here everyone was just milling around together. It was great.

I allowed myself to be carried along on the wave and found myself coming out onto the main street where the bus was. When we had arrived it was dead. Coming back to me it was like a full scale carnival was in swing. Neon lights were everywhere, tacky plastic images of Hindu Gods were moving around like funfair rides. There was Durga killing the Buffalo Demon with hilarious recorded sounds of agony, there was a baby Krishna being caught red-handed stealing butter by a baby Radha. THe streets were just filled with people laughing, walking and having fun. Once again what you were struck by was the sheer exuberance and the COLOURS. Not just saris but everything else - lights, shops, stalls, cars, buses, everything. It was an incredible experience and I just stood there drinking it in, once again trying to remember it for posterity. Indians know how to enjoy themselves...

We got back quite late and, energised again, I went and had some dinner. I realised what had been making me low - disconnection. When you are connected in this country, the mind stops grinding with thoughts and just goes with it. Varkala, for all its comforts, had cut me off. I was pining. But now I know its still out there, and I will be with it again soon...

So things are buzzing again. I would like to say a quick thank you to everyone who has written to me in concern about my brief funk. Its wonderful to know people care! We are all human, however, and its funny the way the mind can trap you when you are not looking. It was an interesting decision to share my state of mind on this Blog all those weeks back when I mentioned the Dark Night Of The Soul. I could have just kept all that quiet and pretended everything was hunky dorey, but I decided 'Fuck it. We are all to ashamed of our feelings in the UK. We spend so much time pretending there aren't problems when there are.' This Blog, nay this trip, is a life journey - or part of it - so why not share what life is like?

This is not to say I want everyone to share my every up and down, but if anything I have said has made anyone feel less alone, then that is a good thing as far as I am concerned.

So no doubt now. Onwards and what the future brings, the future brings. A few more days chilling here, then Tamil Nadu and after that, northern India, which holds untold secrets and challenges. Madurai, Thanjuvar, Pondicherry and others... Wish me luck and love to you all, amigos!