We had to dish out Rs. 2000 for the trip to Kottayam where we were welcomed by animals and elephants in particular. It was Rs.2000 because the driver could speak incoherent English in his thick Malayalam accent.

He picked up the ways underneath the lashing monsoon and somehow between slippery roads and whizzing lorries he brought us to the zoo. As we were going to get off from the white Ambassador car, gentle steps mingled with clinging bells could be heard.

A horde of elephants arrived with their young ones. Some of the young ones where forced to move ahead which was done with yanking and lashing with thick sticks but the cruel lashing and the yanking didn't break the innocent beauty in their eyes.

They were taken to the river and we were told by the driver that we could follow them to help them take a bath. Our attempt, however, to rejoice which was augmented by innocent triumph was doomed after we noticed the scowling and stern faces of the mahouts.

As we were relentless so we had the opportunity to walk behind the baby elephants till the zoo. My lady being an animal activist whined over the conditions of the animals. She didn't agree with the imprisonment of wild animals to entertain people like us while they stood unable to utter a word about their loss of freedom.

Why did she agree to go at the first place, though? Well, what is fair?

First we enslaved our own kind and eventually we developed the idea of selling of human to advantageous others so why people in the world would be bothered by the imprisonment of the wild animals who can't utter a coherent word?

The torrential rain was a hindrance to our desire to travel within Kerala for few days instead we pondered over the possible trip to Kanyakumari in Tamil Nadu.

There were text messages and phone calls from our friend, Varun, asking us when we would be able to visit him in Delhi. We yielded to his callings and booked the train tickets to get to Delhi. It said 42 hours but spent 62 hours owing to certain inexpressible reason allowing some ticket less local goons to board the train to pester the long distant travelers.

When we reached Delhi it was almost midnight and we still had to find Varun's place which was executed by a smart auto rickshaw driver.

When we were together in university Varun talked quite a lot about the chauffeurs and servants so we were a bit apprehensive about how things would be like at his place. It was just an attached house in a crammed location.

Two cars parked in front of the small house which left no space to walk. You can cheat a stranger and get away with it but to cheat a person who knows you inside out would be a naïve thing.

The arrival was announced by the persistent barking of his diminutive dog and there was Varun rubbing his eyes and staring at us. We kicked off of our shoes and settled down waiting for his words.

As the pet proved relentless it was not possible for anybody in the family to get a sound sleep. A while later his mother showed up with a warm smile asking us to sit at the table to for late night Paranthas. Well-fed and stuffed like turkeys we went up to Varun's bedroom.

We were sleepy but Varun kept on talking which went on for sometimes. After a hot shower we slipped into slumber land.

I didn't hear any knock but there was someone in the bedroom staring at us in astonishment and willing to exit from the place right away. The expression that I read was scornful and fathomable on our part.

An unmarried but matured couple sleeping together under a roof is illegal but that is something that most people don't admit despite their experience since it is the society on which they hold on and to be ostracized is to be isolated from mankind.

When that anachronistic society dictates terms everyone is expected to submit to it albeit it could be living in a state of denial.

Varun's mother was downstairs preparing breakfast and he was in his study reading a thick marketing book while his father's presence could be felt with the blaring noise of TV.

There was no mood or indication of spending sometimes together with them instead she jabbered about the beauty of the must see places. We took our leave and wandered around Delhi and went shopping around Connaught place which helped us exercise our bargaining power. It's an art to be able to halve the price of anything that you can see in the market.

We loathed Varun's place but we had to spend one more night. Varun was in front of the gate walking his dog when we came back with a bouquet for his mother to express our reluctant appreciation. He was well-dressed and spoke about his inclination to take us to a disco in the suburb of Delhi. He drove us to the place in his grey Indica car.

We dropped in at a bar which looked rather fancy where no lady bartenders could be seen. We ordered some Kingfisher beer and responded to Bangra music. Tipsy after downing couple of bottles he drove us around his nostalgic lanes but he was going fast, infuriating my lady.

He showed us the jogging track where he had been jogging with his supposedly healthy mates and the gymnasium where he had been working out but he looked fatter, though. I was on the verge to say 'bullock.' At some points we all have to resort to some fabricated things to grasp other's attention. By the time we got to his place we announced about our plan to leave Delhi the following day for Simla.

Early morning when we were packed up and dressed and waiting for his parents everybody in the family came down to bid us farewell, even his dog became a friend.

We left his place early just to escape from the creepy feeling that had been residing within us and that left us with plenty of time to meet some of my old dudes from the university days. When I phoned them up they were home and invited us to come down for lunch.

Theirs was through a curvy alley with expensive privacy which they managed by pulling down a thick curtain. The hard-earned silence was shattered every now and then by the hollering of street hawkers. Nancy was already put off after having been to the bathroom.

What mattered and what we valued was the nostalgic conversation and good home-cooked food. Nostalgia is what some tries to avoid, it is also something that some tries to revisit. Certainly the colour of it varies.

My friends sounded like bunch of disgruntled strangers stranded in a place where they were struggling to embrace it as theirs. There was the petty talk of this girl and that girl and also girls who had been prostituting.



To be continued ...