Me and my gang of men went on a road trip....to pondichery....yea sorry its not a long ass india tour or something but still.....it was special...irrespective of the fact that the gang of men don't differentiate me and them as female and male, i' d like to do that for comfort.....i was excited, a tad bit worried about the trip as my cultivated habit of living it in the thick of things especially in"menly" things had rusted with the years, but not beyond retrieval, once again as years before in college i was subject to conversation that centred around what one could call "below the belt". farting, mastrubating, sodomy...name it....though the discomfort initially shown in all their eyes making me feel a bit guilty for the formality, i had to push it to think that comfort is a zone of interaction one mutually creates overtime...and i can proudly say the levels were more or less crossed....i also learned about my weird nature of being restricted like ass-never-used to becoming someting of a i don't care where my ass is...its always been this way....so i let my hair down to incorporate the jokes that otherwise feminists would cringe at..... cause i know thats how it goes....you can't trace epistemology and power of discourse when it is coming at you at the speed of light or when you are tightly stuck to your seats hoping they will never get comfortable enough to fart on your face...
So we reached the beach side town of mahabs in the eve, a perfect time to chill and after much debate we went to my fave place, the bob marley restaurant, no they don't serve scrumptuous seafood or french/italian cuisine...its chilled beer and whatever they muster from the market made in a style you can call "their-own"...but its a quiant little hut on a the beach in a quiant lil town...has its exotic value that cannot be related...well it didn't take me this long (as the explanation took) to get high within this exotic hut.....conversation was now a steady stream of sweet nothings and holy cussing....i am told at some point i swayed enough to think i was a mermaid...i say good progress from my old status of a fish monger.....that day went in long hours of gulping beer....
our early plan for the next day...which was to hit the road before sunrise to the french colony was disturbed by more snorring.....happy sleep....but to be jolted by a ride to the sea on a boat was worth the wait......in our bright life jackets, a lil to gawky and funny......we faced the waves lashing at us with a might i never fathomed.....the thrill reached its peak when when we were pointed out the submerged temples....soon like kids we wove stories of treasures and of sharks....yea we are a bunch who watched too much of commercial mainstream jump-out-of-your-seats movies.....jumping into water was not as easy as i thought....the sense of drowning , the uncertainity of drowning, the water in your lungs and my specific incapacity to have my feet grounded...for a moment i panicked....i could get lost in the waves or sink in the depths......it took me a while to realise that panic itself was the rock on your feet, it pulls you down...took a moment to meditate, to relax..afterall i am surrounded by belief laden chivalrous men...i can't stray too far...so with an ounce of fear, two cups of love of water....and a bucket of trust in my fate and my companions....i enjoyed every moment of bouyancy in water....like a fish but not with finesse i floated in water...of course my hands gripped the men next to me ....i needed protection too!! these are moment i wish there was neither male nor female...no social inhibition....when clothes become an inhibiting factor but socialising have long acquainted you with the art of being modest...
I thought that was thrilling until i decided to hitch a ride, with an ol friend, as a pillion rider on his bike......now i can't decide which was more life shaping the unknowable expanse of the sea or the whizzing wind threatening to blow me off the bike...my fear of water was cured, my fear of speed was numbed as the bike sped no whizzed within the range of 100-120 kmph.....but hey i conquered....my heart stopped at several junctures but i can't help the head rush of having conquered another fear within the span of two hours.....well not really conquered for life but for now....
Trip got mellower as we crossed to the next town...once again i found myself, someone who is otherwise likely to fall for something of this fashion, cynical about the exclusive settlement of architects at auroville...unnecessarily i realise..... for the philosophy was not unthought of at one point in my life...its probably the cynicism of my stages that make me so cynical about its external manifestation...a world trying to escape the real world...pretending to cut out the noise from the outside...but yes it can be a hub of creativity....if one thinks that the brain can function in a shell ..and creativity is sparred by this exclusivity...ok,ok i don't know what i am talking about. I think theres more to learn from the sea and the beach than from structures...lame but will try to pretend thats personal philosophy that is profound...cause i am sensual enough to enjoy my dip in the water and eternallly conquering that sense of fear....so yes the trip was for me all about breaking thin barriers slowly, as time went by...with friends, with oneself, with the elements....with liquor too...i can't write anymore cause there are too many thoughts that cannot at once be processed to words...or maybe i don't have the thoughts but an urge to think that i have thoughts...
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