A Blog of One's Own

Some journeys unexpectedly curve, turning you inward; taking you back to the womb, to the very conception of life.    In the midst of a hectic study tour in Kannur district in North Kerala, writer K.M Venugopalan, our companion during this journey, took us to Chengal wherein resides Shri. Kallen Pokkudan, lovingly called as Kandal (mangrove) Pokkudan – the man who grew mangrove forests along the Pazhayangadi River.      Exhausted as we were in the afternoon, we reached the house of Shri. Pokkudan, the tireless crusader for the restoration of the lost heritage of mangrove forests in the coastal region. What he began with a strong individual conviction in his home district, in Kannur in the 1980s, soon became a mass effort and countless mangroves have been planted in almost all parts of Kerala over the years. Kallen Pokkudan He was struggling with his lunch kept on the table, unable to eat, as sobs choked his throat in remembrance of his life partner, Meenakshi, who had

"I trust your Garden was willing to die ... I do not think that mine was—it perished with beautiful reluctance, like an evening star—" Emily Dickinson, in a letter to her Aunt Katie Sweetser, 1880 I stand perplexed, not knowing what to do with the few plants I had on the terrace of this house where I lived for some years now. So few, they somehow grew so beautifully in their respective containers without any special care. After a period of winter hibernation, most of them have come back with full vigor. During my short trips out of the city, some inevitably faded while others survived with incredible spirit. Time to leave the place once again, this time for a long time, may be. I say ‘may be’ because every time when I shifted out of this city in a definitive tone, I returned to it with equal speed. The city which saw more than half of my life’s doings…So, let me suffix it with a ‘may be’ this time, in all humility.  There were gardens always, wherever I lived. On