Tag: kerala

Posted on

N.28 Of bafflements, ignorance and bliss

And so, being the author of my own story, a clean page stares back at me with a playful attitude. There is a palpable energy in the air, I can feel it. The far across the world travels are over for now but the call for adventure still resonates within my heart.

Quite naively, I had envisioned travelling as being a grand transformative experience of fireworks and jawdropping moments. Only to discover that these kinds of stories only came as a spice. A little sprinkle here and there, no more, no less.

What truly took me by surprise is the regular non-spectacular daily life that seemed to be on full throttle everywhere I went.

The local people living their lives were not that different from my travelling day to day.
In a strange way, before my travels, I had been all over the place but while being out there in person, I quietly came back to the only place there will ever be: right here, right now.

I guess you could say it either bubbled up from within or that it hit me in the face;
the undeniability of the truth. No matter where I ramble on to, I am here, now.

You could venture out on saying that my travels ended right there.
Or you could say they just began.
Both are the same, really.

I find language to be confusing when it comes time to share what is of the whole ‘’one’’ life domain. An intellectual dissection of the matter is far from adequate and the wisdom of the heart can only be expressed by imagery or meaningful simplicity.

In the past, I’ve truly enjoyed the zen approach to story telling.
Simple tales, profound meaning.

‘’The black coffee is warm. The cup is white’’

They make no sense if you gloss over them while trying to understand the meaning.
There is no meaning.
Intellectual understanding is overrated.

Life is so mind boggingly vast, interconnected, synchronistic and rich, never shall it fit into a box. Pardon my language but to hell with the boxes. Throw that ol’ dried up shit into the garbage and embrace the infinity of being alive.

I’ve dedicated my life to music and if the need arises, I can explain the nooks and crannies of why I do it. But this only came as a response to the age old question: ‘’what’s your real job?’’

I’ve learned to compassionately respond to a human baffled by the fact that someone may dedicate his or her life to something other than money.

Ignorance is to be handled with care and a great amount of tact. We can either help it blossom into wisdom or it can turn rabid and bite back quite aggressively.

Ignorance is like a wounded, scared and stressed out animal looking to survive.
Compassion trumps all other avenues.

All this to say that, in truth, Music is such a mystery to me, I am beyond clueless about all of it. At this point in my journey, Music and Life are one and the same.
And boy, ain’t that river deep and wide!

Well, I’ll quit my ramblings for now.
I’m sure you’ve got places to be.

Bobcat ‘’The clueless’’ reporting for duty

Posted on

N.23 ”A new Life”


As my time in Kerala comes to a close, I breathe in the moment.
Perched atop my home for the last three months, surrounded by jungle, blanketed by the bright blue sky above and the sounds of the sea in the distance, here I am once more.

Oh, how a place can change you.
I come here every morning and evening these days. There’s a silence here that nourishes me deeply. Somehow, the grandiosity of my surroundings helps me gain a fresh perspective.

I could never have known or planned my stay here. It seems to have happened by virtue of fate. When Life mingles with your affairs and sets a course tailored just for you, it may be the right time to throw away your petty plans and hop on that ride.

Who knows who you shall be coming out the other end?

As for myself, my old stories are now dead. My old self has been buried in Kerala. From my experience, there is no mistaking it: a new life’s beginning.

It’s hard to put into words what is so intimate and visceral. Birthed out of silence, I am left wordless in the face of the immensity of living.

I’ve had the privilege to make lifelong friendships. I now breathe more deeply and my walk is tall and proud. I’ve found great dignity in the company of my new brother Abdul. Both the poorest and the richest man I’ve ever encountered.

The sometimes confusing ways of Indian culture has left me more accepting of what is. I do not feel the need to label things anymore. It all seems so petty to try to catch a morsel of the river of life going full throttle in order to give it a name, therefore feeling safe in return.

In a short time, I’ll be on a plane bound for Sri Lanka. I’ve been longing to swim in the sea ever since my stay in Mexico, a few months back.

Now’s the time to satisfy that desire.

I do not know where this adventure will bring me but here I am, firmly rooted in the present with an open heart and mind.

Let’s see what happens next, shall we?

Posted on

N.22 Onam with the Locals


Engulfed in a sea of Keralites, the procession seems to be neverending. Dancing kalari warriors, old ladies with painted faces, muscled up teenagers, 12 feet tall puppets, marching bands, electric cars carrying a whole array of paper constructions on their backs, military personnel and the occasional guy that looks as if he’s just here for the money: he’s tired and waiting for his check so he can go home.

In Thiruvananthapuram, the whole avenue from Kankakounè palace to the east port is blocked by authorities. There’s thousands upon thousands of people of all ages on the side of the street. They are all here to celebrate the closing ceremony of the ten day Onam festival.

Traditionally, it is a celebration of the harvest season, when the food is plentiful and the sun is shining high for all.

Historically, the festival began a long time ago, when king Mavelli ruled over Kerala. It is believed to have been a time of peace and prosperity for everyone. In these times, there was no cast system and everyone lived together as one with great joy.

When the king died, the keralites decided to honor him once a year with the the famous Onam festival. It is believed that the soul of Mavelli comes back to Kerala every year to check up on his people. Therefore, in homage to him, the locals come together to build flower arrangements, dress up in style and prepare special meals to share with the whole family. It is a time a well awaited celebration for the citizens.

A local told me that even if you are poor, even if you are miserable, you owe it to yourself that at least one day in a year, you walk on this earth as a king. That’s what Onam is all about.

For my first time in India, I’ve been very fortunate to make friends amongst the local people. What was supposed to be a three weeks stay in Kerala turned into three months.

I’ve been lucky enough to stumble upon Abdul, a man of many surprising talents, early on in my travels. As an old ayurvédic doctor, he made me experience the Karkala month the ayurveda way: a 30 days of thorough cleansing. Ideally coming out the other end stronger and more vital.

Once Onam came, he offered me my very own Onam dress. I then became an official Kerala man. Having learned many Malayalam words, I can now confidently express myself shakily in the local language. As always, the ‘’thank you’s,’ and the ‘’how are you’s’’ are the first to be used.

I have been welcomed as a brother. I have been added to the family as one of their own. I am a fortunate man in a land filled with kind and generous people. Being out here in Kerala has truly been a lesson on the art of welcoming. My three months here raised the bar on what it means to be a graceful host.

The first Onam day, the flower arranging begins. Groups of guys pool their resources and buy as much flower as they can afford and then go on building flower altars. You can walk around the village and see for yourself.

As each day passes, the altar grows bigger and more splendid, ultimately reaching its zenith on the 10th day. Then, a ritual takes place where the whole creation is ripped apart by a man possessed by a spirit entranced in the loud music that’s being blasted full force out of the six 4 by 4 speakers sitting in the back.

During Onam, the special meal is named Sadhya. Traditionally served on a banana leaf, there is an array of curries served with rice. Many stages uncover themselves over the course of the meal, leaving you with a belly full of delicious food and a strong desire for a nap.

As it seems to be ‘’the way life is’’ in my case, I am invited to the best place in the neighborhood to enjoy a sadhya meal: The Oyster Marris Homestay.

Not only is the food worthy of a five stars rating but the hosts also teach you about the history and cultural ways of the keralites. The place is truly a must for those passing by the Thiruvananthapuram area.

Going for a walk after a meal fit for an overweight king, I keep stumbling over my dhoti, the traditional cloth worn around the waist by the people of Kerala. Although the style is like no other, as a westerner, I am more fit to wear pants.

As my time in Kerala comes to a close, I give thanks for all the gifts that came my way, all the friends I’ve made and all the adventures that have happened.

This year has been my first Onam with the locals and If I get a say in the matter,
it won’t be my last.

Posted on

N.21 My Own Legend

Out here in Kerala, the Onam festival is in full swing. There are lights everywhere, it feels like Christmas, floral arrangements adorn every street corner, and it’s the perfect opportunity to go into town and buy yourself a new dress.

In my case, I invited my friend and his children to go to the circus.
“The Great Bombay Circus,” as they say.

It was like stepping back in time to the carnivals of yesteryear: clowns who weren’t very funny, dwarfs who clearly just wanted to go outside and smoke cigarettes, some really cool acrobatics, and aggressive marketing on the food and drink side.

A real business lesson for the whole family!

The other day, I had a profound realization. I’ll try to put it into words for you, my dear reader.

It’s morning. I’ve just finished my yoga session on the roof of the house where I’ve chosen to live. The view is breathtaking. You can see the sea at the bottom of the mountain, and I’m surrounded by coconut trees and birds flying overhead. The sky envelops everything brilliantly.

I open my eyes and in front of me is a brown plastic chair.
I start thinking, “Damn, that chair ruins the view,” and I feel slightly frustrated.

And then suddenly, in a split second, I realize how absurd the situation is: I am in a paradise, the wind is caressing my body, and the smell of the sea is filling my nostrils. It is completely absurd to think that a simple plastic chair could “spoil” the experience.

The apparent absurdity of concluding that the view is diminished because of a chair suddenly makes me laugh out loud.

I realize that imposing a story on the reality of the moment is a personal choice, and that I have chosen the mediocre story of the chair spoiling the magnificent experience of being alive in paradise. I laugh at the pettiness of my mind.

Life follows its course. The story we attribute to it is 100% optional.

Basically, my journey has been a reconsideration of the story I tell myself at every moment.
I stumbled upon some old, dusty tales that needed cleaning up, so I’m rewriting my own legend in a more conscious way.

In any case, my friend, I hope your legend is beautiful and surprising!

See you soon!

Posted on

n.19 ”The surprising virtues of a poor muslim man with the heart bigger than the indian ocean”


We met at a street corner quite by accident about two months ago. So many circumstances had to come together for the stars to align for us to be at the same place, at the same time. Chance had nothing to do with it.

It was destiny. I am sure of it.

Our friendship deepens each day that passes. In his company, I agin in dignity and personal sovereignty. Abdul, an old ayurvédic doctor as poor as an old rusty nail at the bottom of a drawer but such richness emanates from this man, I am perpetually taken aback by it.

A smile going up all the way to his eyes. Constantly benevolent there’s no other like him.

Everyone from around here knows him. They all say he’s an honorable man with a good heart. Always happy to be of service. A mala in hand, prayer is never far from his lips. He’s got such a devotion towards his god, it’s contagious.

We throw at each other an endless amount of ‘’Inshallah’’ and ‘’Devam anygrèykète at each occasion. (To the rhythm of God and God bless you)

Last week, he showed me around the neighborhood. The first day, we walked for 7 hours straight. At last some exercise worth mentioning. I’ve been waiting for that one.

Once at Kovalam beach, a prayer of mine got answered: a true double espresso.
It’s hard to describe the effect of a double espresso in a body that hasn’t seen any real coffee in over 3 months. It’s as if my body and mind fused perfectly whilst being jolted by 35 000 volts of lightning.

I could not hold myself. I whipped out my banjo and played ravenously for an hour and a half straight without stopping. All that in front of a magnificent beach, tenderly cradled by sea winds and the sound of waves.

Paradise.

Abdul’s sister, Fatima, is the owner of a house on a mountain overlooking the ocean. It never got finished due to lack of funding and left to itself. Me and Abdul we’ll build a bathroom, a shower and a bedroom. The house shall be mine for my time here.

There are encounters that change us, that won’t allow us to remain the old and pushes us towards another level of personal freedom. My meeting with Abdul is one of those.

The kindness, generosity and unconditional love is contagious. I am now infected and for sure will propagate this fever to all those who cross my path.