Ooty and the nature of human bonding

I fail to notice the obvious most of the times, perhaps because the situation is too sloppy to grant it my gracious attention. Last time, I went to ooty, I had been bestowed with the finest details of human bonding, so much that I relished in it, that I just had to repose my conscience and embrace tightly the rewards of comprehending the human bonding forthcoming in the way.

The early morning fog was still creeping heavily through the thick forests on to the road we were on. It was a mini bus with four seats on either side on which two people could sit with foot room barely sufficient. Workers were laying the road at regular intervals along the way; it was a bumpy ride with the vehicle pushing the shock force on to its passengers thanks to the absence of shock absorbers or the futility of their presence. Whichever it was, we were all obliging the vehicular inter spatial forces with admirable conscience by slightly lifting our bodies above the seat, weighing up on the knees when we noticed a bump ahead, quite an awkward position it was to maintain for a long time. We tried not to fall into repose for too long, for the road was full of surprises. The forest spread on both sides of the road flaunting its versatility; tall trees with branches perched on the top so small that they barely managed to force the center of gravity on to the lean stem below. The road was littered with dry leaves that were moist and quite understandably as the vehicle zipped past them, over them, they barely rattled. The road side was punctured occasionally by the houses on both sides.

one moment we are speeding through the dark interiors of a forgotten never-never forest land with the insects making numbing sounds that dimmed every one's senses and the branches obfuscating the road way by tugging onto the ones from the opposite side forming an arch of tree branches above us. So dim and dark was the road way that we could not make out if a bump was awaiting our vehicle to tread on it so it would scream with the pleasure of vengeance, for we deceptively avoided its cousins on the way. The next moment, we were in the broad day light with houses on both sides with the fog stealing its way through a roof top here and around a raised chimney there. The man behind the steering wheel appeared barely conscious of the beauty that was imploring our attention. Then we were driven to a hill top and as we got down, the picturesque beauty of the tall trees that between them bosomed fog was impossible to ignore, so I went closer, and the numbness in my hands and feet, the chilled morning breeze that now filled my lungs was encumbered by a cold energy that suffused through my body, for I felt attracted and drawn closely to the cold energy's prime mover, the forest.

The insects' sound which was sporadic on the road side now got multiplied a hundredfold or a thousand fold as I got closer to the forest; suddenly I felt a harmony between the trees that were heaving the fog out and blowing the mist melodiously through the unseen branches that were perched above the fog's shield. It was dark inside with intensity at once unapproachable; it was as if the trees were bonded together by a force that was alive elsewhere. It occurred to me that the forest acted as a giant organism with the trees that I was presently admiring in awe upon as tentacles of a squid, and through these tentacles –trees- the giant organism could feed, breathe, heave, sneeze and cry.


We got into the mini bus again and I noticed that I was sandwiched between two couples; one sitting before me and the other sitting behind me in last seat in the bus. The couple sitting before me appeared tranquil and at ease, both of them were in their early twenties. The lady had an incredibly fair complexion, so fair that the golden chain on her neck looked sort of a blemish on an otherwise immaculately sculpted mannequin. The gentleman was holding her hand; every now and then he carefully caressed her smooth palms with his. He would point out a wonder here and a wonder there for her to admire through the window. They both rejoiced when an object of beauty presented itself and were calm on other occasions holding hands, gently caressing. As she looked out of the window embracing the morning fog, he felt ecstatic with her presence and exploded in joy at once with even a slight indication of smile on her lips.

And there was this couple sitting in the back. In their late twenties, the gentleman was sporting a bald head and a pot belly, his shirt un-ironed, un-bottened, shoes dirty, face unshaven. The lady had more rouge on her cheeks than the forest had fog, more lipstick on her lips that the forest had mist. She had more flab than the gentleman she was with. If by some miraculous and ingenious method, doctors should find a way to lower the gentleman’s flab round his belly one step below on to the hips, even then he could not match to that of the lady’s. They were both poking at each other all the time and they were in violent spasms of laughter throughout the trip. They never ceased to talk, to express their feelings in public, the gentleman took particular pleasure in making short remarks about the pleasurable time that they had since they got there. he made the wildest innuendos I ever heard before, not that he was making an effort at concealing the true identity of the remarks, but his irresistible laughter sometimes made it impossible for the couple sitting in the front to ignore them. The lady was palpitating with the lesser levels of oxygen intake that she managed to inhale between the pokes, nudges and wild guffaws that she was put through.

There I was between the two extremes of human behavior, one subtle and elegant, other audacious and vivacious.

I was later to find out that the couple sitting in the back was having an extra marital affair while the couple sitting in the front was just married.